#22 — Royal Warriors
This is an illustrated countdown of my 49 1/2 most essential action movies. Last week I talked about Renny Harlin’s best movie about family, friendship, and burning bridges — The Long Kiss Goodnight.
In going through a list like this, there are certain films you anticipate more than others. This is a big one. Michelle Yeoh, playing action cop Michelle Yip. Michael Wong, playing security guard Michael Wong. Hiroyuki Sanada, playing *checks notes* Interpol agent Peter Yamamoto? It’s fine, doesn’t matter. They all fit the bill, even in spite of looking like babies. I thought Sanada had been a rugged 45 his entire life, until I saw him looking like a Japanese James Dean. And Michelle is just radiant. Their youthfulness serves as a nice contrast to the tragic loss they’ll experience, and the violent retribution that will transform them into the titular “warriors”.
This is a perfect representation of 80s Hong Kong action, perhaps the twin sister to Righting Wrongs. I don’t know what a “Royal Warrior” is, maybe it’s an action cop that figuratively gets their wings. OR, maybe it’s what an action cop becomes when their glamorized renegade actions result in a loss of innocence — distorting their concept of justice through a lens of emotional and moral turmoil that we, the audience members, have slowly become enablers of by watching their exploits on home video. Whoa. Maybe after you watch enough action movies, you become a Royal Watcher. I don’t even know if that’s good or bad, but it’s worth thinking about, in my opinion.
The villains in this one form sort of a nega Royal Warrior squad, four in total. They’ve earned trust and loyalty for each other through courage and sacrifice as war veterans. They live by their own code, but they’re also terrorists, so it’s a very flawed code. We’re shown their time together as soldiers through flashback, but never given any further context for their actions or personal history. All we know is they went through some tough times together, which has only strengthened their resolve to evil ends.
The movie opens with Michelle (played by Michelle) at some kind of outdoor festival with live music and performers in the streets. She’s wearing almost all white and is dressed for most of the movie like she’s a Golden Girl. Lots of action movies have some ridiculous opening set-up to show off how tough the main dude is, but rarely do we get to see such an amazing juxtaposition of wholesome joy and furious fisticuffs. She smiles in between punches and kicks, and is generally very pleasant. I don’t know if you’ve ever watched a Michelle Yeoh movie before, but she’s kind of like if one of John Woo’s doves was kissed and transformed into a magical kung fu princess imbued with the power to ward off evil. Forever graceful.
The overall aesthetic of the film captures a retro chic that modern movies often try and fail to replicate. It’s the clothes, the hair, the lighting, the faces — there’s style everywhere. The effervescence of a young Michelle Yeoh doing kung fu can’t be replaced. A leather-clad Hiroyuki Sanada puffs on a cigarette under the moonlight. There’s even a classic night club set piece that seems inspired by Club Tech Noir from The Terminator — still the pinnacle of this type of scene, but always steal from the best. I guess it’s Tic-Tac-Toe themed (maybe that’s the name of the bar), because there’s neon signs featuring the game all over the place. It’s drenched in pink lighting and there’s glass everywhere. You better believe they’re gonna break all of it when the fighting starts. It’s the law.
One of my favorite elements of Royal Warriors is the relationship between Michael and Michelle, and how it serves as the catalyst for her transformation. He plays the goofball of the bunch, trying to win her over with flowers and boyish flirting. He doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation, and eventually crosses a line — leading to a rude awakening that garners some sympathy for a character that had been pretty one-dimensional to this point. It’s common for these movies have some kind of light comic relief third-wheel type (Righting Wrongs also features this dynamic) and sometimes they’re cheaply employed as sacrificial lambs for the typical melodrama of Hong Kong cinema.
I guess this is no different, but maybe it works better because of the flower motif, which they establish early on. The gift of flowers and their symbolic innocence become more significant after a demonstration of heroism and sacrifice sets up the final act. It also gives Michelle Yeoh the opportunity to publicly call out the villain in front of news reporters, sort of like of Steven Seagal’s open invitation to take Senator Trent “to the blood bank”, accept much better because she’s not sitting on her bed in an empty room.
Michelle shows up for the final fight in some kind of armored vehicle, now wearing studded fingerless gloves and a jacket fit for a Patty Smyth music video. I don’t know if this is her darker half, but she’s ready for battle in a way that Activia Commercial Michelle would not be psychologically equipped for. She fights off a chainsaw wielding maniac with a shovel and prevents the desecration of a dear friend’s corpse. You’ll never be the same after you do something like that. She’s now battle-hardened. Maybe this is what it means to be a Royal Warrior. You start off as a daisy and then you become a thorny rose. I’m going with that definition.
