Lady Whirlwind and the Rangers (1974)
Review by Doc Ezra
Film:
DVD:

Directed by Ho Chang
Starring Polly Kuan, Yasuaki Kurata, and Kam Kong

Released by Crash Cinema
Region: 1
Rating: NR, suitable for 13+
Anamorphc: Yes

My advice: Rental for die-hard kung fu enthusiasts. All others pass.

As the 19th century wanes in China, bandits prey heavily on the salt trade. Corruption runs rampant through the ranks of the officials, especially out in the sticks--so for a decent kickback, this raiding of the salt shipments is largely overlooked, and pursuit by the long arm of the law is rare. Some, however, won’t be corrupted or bribed. Thus it is that one particularly nasty bandit leader (Kurata) works a deal with his bribed officials to dispose of a troublesome sheriff.

Not content to merely kill the man, the bandits frame him for smuggling. While they had hoped this would be the end of their troubles, it was their most grave error. The sheriff’s daughter (Kuan), getting wind of this deception and desperate to restore her father’s honor, goes undercover to expose the real culprits and put an end to the bandit gang once and for all. To achieve her deception, she disguises herself as a young man and infiltrates the gang.

Once successfully entrenched, the beatings commence. Polly Kuan was one of the foremost female action stars of the 70s kung fu resurgence, and the film gives her plenty of chances to show off her kung fu. Kurata is a Japanese karate expert, and Kong is a student of Tae Kwon Do (the real thing, not the watered down American cookie-cutter black belt factory stuff from your local USKA dojo). This multiplicity of styles lends the fight sequences a unique quality, which sets the action apart from typical kung fu movie fare.

The disc presents the film in an anamorphic transfer of its original 16mm stock. The film shows serious signs of aging and neglect, with lots of crackles and streaks in the picture and some equally serious muffling and fuzzing of the audio in places. This is likely due as much to the original as the DVD transfer, though, so kudos to Crash for doing the best with what they had. Given that the film was believed lost for some time, it’s nice to just see it hit DVD at all.

Given the obscurity of the film and the probable lack of material on the subject, the lack of features is hardly surprising. A talk with Polly Kuan would have been fascinating, as she was a big female star in a male-dominated genre, which couldn’t have been an “ordinary” experience. The only thing on the disc is an advertisement for a game controller (the “P5” game glove), due to the fact that this DVD (and four others) comprise Crash Cinema’s P5 Collection, a joint venture with the makers of the controller.

Big-time kung fu completists might want to add this one to the rack, but rent it first and make sure it’s your cup of tea. If you like your kung fu served up by the fairer sex, then this one is an excellent addition, and somewhat historic to boot.