Approaching this critique with a balanced perspective, let's delve into the film's narrative and technical aspects without targeting any particular actor.
Intelligence is not the absence of compassion.
Regarding the script and character development:
A brief overview of the plot: The protagonist, Lin Yao, born into wealth, finds himself embroiled in a series of contrived events set up by his father to dissuade him from martial arts. This includes staged fights and a naive rescue attempt that backfires, involving the heroine Qin Shuang and her accomplices. Eventually, Qin Shuang experiences a change of heart and develops feelings for Lin Yao. The climax reveals Lin Yao's disillusionment with his self-perceived prowess, leading him to earnestly master the art of drunken boxing. The story concludes with a reunion to reclaim their ancestral home, leaving viewers with an ambiguous hint at future developments.
The film's temporal setting is inconsistent and confusing. The death of Lin Yao's mother and the backstory of a character portrayed by Wang Hong, which involves Japanese aggression, seem out of place given the lack of contextual cues in the early part of the film. The inclusion of these elements appears to be a clumsy attempt to evoke national sentiment to justify certain plot points, employing clichéd tropes that make the ending predictable from the outset. Additionally, the inclusion of a gratuitous scene involving violence and prostitution feels unnecessary, considering the hero's supposed invincibility.
The movie's logic is fractured. Lin Yao is portrayed as a bumbling yet self-righteous character who inexplicably falls for Qin Shuang. Her character as a courtesan seems designed to feed his misplaced sense of heroism, rescuing her without ulterior motives. Such a narrative choice is both humorous and unsettling. Moreover, during a scene in the brothel, Lin Yao's display of devotion to Qin Shuang by pushing away another woman is intended as comic relief but falls flat. The entire film evokes the feel of a poorly executed production from a decade ago.
One of the most glaring issues arises when the deceit begins to unravel. Qin Shuang stages a murder, yet Lin Yao remains fixated on her indenture contract. It's baffling why he would still care about such a document when a life has been taken. He then visits a gambling den to secure her freedom, insisting on betting ten thousand taels instead of simply paying the five thousand required. Amidst this, Bai Li Mei reveals the scheme, though she is also part of it, leading to the loss of the family estate. The attempts to explain these inconsistencies only add to the absurdity, culminating in a slapstick moment where Lin Yao's father admits his parenting failures.
It's perplexing that the film doesn't allow Qin Shuang to remain a consistent antagonist. Instead, she inexplicably becomes sympathetic towards Lin Yao. Despite having orchestrated much of the deception herself, she suddenly feels remorse. In this context, she serves primarily as a catalyst for Lin Yao's character growth, rather than a fully realized character in her own right.
During a pivotal scene, Bai Li Mei spares Lin Yao's life when he is vulnerable, choosing not to eliminate him. One wonders if the screenwriter thought this added tension, but it only exacerbates the implausibility of the situation.
Ultimately, the film's shortcomings can largely be attributed to the script. Even with a female screenwriter involved, the female characters—mother, mentor, and heroine—are underdeveloped or reduced to mere plot devices. The romantic subplot is trite, and a potentially interesting character, Zhao Biao, is killed off without much exploration. His subplot regarding his daughter's illness is glossed over hastily.
In terms of cinematography and editing:
It's rare to find a film that fails both narratively and visually. The movie employs transitions reminiscent of amateur video editing software, creating a disjointed viewing experience.
As for the film's thematic core: