The film explores the story of the legendary kung fu master, Ip Man. It is a different story spanning the turbulent republican era that followed the fall of the last Chinese dynasty and in times of conflict and dangerous times. It is a time of chaos, division and war that was also the golden age of kungfu art.
It ranks with Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Hero and House of Flying Daggers as one of the most elegant and beautiful martial-arts films to play American screens.
Eventually, the story becomes as much an atmospheric lament about what has been lost, as it is a kinetic celebration of how kung fu adapted to the changing times.
The Grandmaster blends right in with Wong's body of work, a gorgeous meditation on the importance of sorrow and lament. This one just happens to have kung fu, too.
"The Grandmaster" can feel stiff at times, and something is doubtlessly lost in translation. But the precision and magic of Wong Kar Wai's camera is so captivating it doesn't matter.
Kung fu masters kick dents in iron railings. These 'magical' things are artist renditions of the super-normal abilities that can be developed through years of practice.
The narrative structure is a little shaky at times, and it perhaps inhabits too many genres to be fully successful in any of them, but my goodness it's compelling.
