A somewhat divisive new release, Once Upon a Time in Shanghai has had its fair share of both positive and negative reviews. Our take falls somewhere in the middle, as the Yuen Woo-Ping helmed martial arts action is good -- but there's not nearly enough of it, especially considering how much time this film spends in exposition scenes. The overtly obvious "arty" nearly black and white mise en scene combined with slightly wooden acting and a retreaded "let's fight the evil Japanese" storyline doesn't help matters, either.

Once Upon a Time in Shanghai is another retelling of the story of folk hero Ma Wing-Jing, whose tale has been brought to the jade screen several times before, most notably with Chang Cheh's Boxer from Shangtung and Corey Yuen's Hero. As with those releases, Once Upon a Time in Shanghai shows Ma (played here by Philip Ng) traveling to Shanghai in the 1920's to find a better life, only to find it an city oppressed not only by criminal elements -- the biggest being Long Qi (Andy On) -- but by the encroaching Japanese. At first morally opposed to Long, Ma ends up working for him, and the two become friends in the battle against the Japanese.

This is a fairly simple premise, but director Wong Ching-Po has never been one to think that less is more, especially when you have a picture written and produced by one of the all-time kings of Hong Kong cinematic excess Wong Jing -- a man that has a fine legacy already in place, but has seemingly been obsessed lately in trying to assert he is not the populist film-maker he has been acting as for the past thirty years -- we're left with something that tries to be both a modern-day "chop socky flick" and a serious meditation upon martial arts, and neither half is left feeling totally satisfied.

Once Upon a Time in Shanghai's best moments occur when it lets itself be the pulpy modern-day Bruceploitation "homage" it was meant to be. Via both moves and mannerisms, Philip Ng channels the Little Dragon quite effectively in what many might term a movie "inspired" (to put it lightly) by Fist of Fury. And Andy On goes to the well of the Michael Fitzgerald Wong school of acting, laughably hamming up his lines while chomping on cigarillos to the point that you have to wonder if that lovable big lug Mikey was actually on the set coaching how to pull off a role where you know fuck all about the native language and look good doing it. But, after getting your ocular sockets fused shut with the sepia tones of wannabe arthouse cinema, what's left is a release that is adrift in where it wants to go.

RATING: 6