Blades of the Guardians

An amazing piece of Wuxia cinema that lends hope not just for a sequel, but for the future of the genre as a whole…

I’ve been a fan of Xu Xianzhe’s manhua Biaoren (“Bounty Hunters”) since it came out in the 2010s. As a self-confessed zhai (Chinese term for geek), Xu is heavily influenced by videogames (and actually commissioned to write the five-volume Assassin’s Creed: Dynasty manhua). Highly reminiscent of samurai classics such as Lone Wolf and Cub and hyper-violent ‘90s anime like Blade of the Immortal, the story certainly had an appeal. I tried to get into the donghua adaptation, but as a seasoned fan of animation, including the beautiful works of Shanghai Animation Studios, and Studio Mir, I found the corner-cutting of rendered 3D backgrounds jarring. The action itself was almost entirely a show of Fist of the North Star-style muscles and brute strength, which longtime Wuxia fans know, can only carry you so far. It would have taken no less than a master of cinematic kung fu. like Yuen Woo-Ping, bringing their flare and skills to this story, for me to return to it, and Blades of the Guardians: Wind Rises in the Desert, delivers just that.

Set in the sunset years of the Sui Dynasty, amidst the power struggles between crime-lords, ruling clans and the imperial court, the story takes place the Western Regions, with their diverse cultures that have long been, and are still, a source of legends, fascination and mystery for the Chinese. Dao Ma (played by Wu Jing, Wolf Warrior, The Wandering Earth), a bounty hunter, takes a job to escort a fugitive on the long road to the city of Chang’an. His asset Zhi Shi Lang, a masked pacificist with a devout following, has a price on his head so high that every swordsman, clan, thief and faction is after them.

Dao Ma (Wu Jing) with his array of weapons

The film delivers all the cinematic dressings one could hope for from a wuxia tale. The opening long shots of galloping horsemen and gorgeous panoramas of sand dunes, draw the audience into one of the typical backdrops of the genre, the vast deserts of northwest China, where the conventions of Han society are set side. Our protagonist is the jaded badass who travels with a sweet kid in tow. Xiaoqi (Ju Qianlang) is introduced in a fun pun on his name (“Little Seven”), when he’s told to cover his eyes and count to ten while Dao Ma kicks seven shades of brick dust out of a gang of bandits. The first act, following the pair’s bounty-hunting life, culminates in a battle with a warlord, played with languid aggression by superstar Jet Li, setting our hero on his path of obligation and bloodshed.

Ayuya (Chen Lijun)

The journey to Chang’an is of course peppered with conflicts, but along the way we soon meet other reassuring archetypes of the Wuxia fiction. The spirited nüxia Ayuya (Chen Lijun, New Dragon Gate Inn), the wise old clan leader Lao Mo (Tony Ka Fai Leong, The Shadow’s Edge, Ashes of Time), the melting icicle, Yumian Shu (Yoshi Yu, Creation of the Gods Trilogy), the tart with a heart, Yanzi Niang (Li Yunxiao), and of course, Zhi Shi Lang (Sun Yizhou) who fulfills the comedy role of the meek scholar. The foils of our party are equally as dramatic, with a constant stream of mad, bad and dangerous adversaries, all introduced in the perfect wuxia convention, of traditional calligraphy on one side of the frame, just a little too fast to take in. With the characters set, all that remains is an onslaught of set pieces: the tavern brawl, the court yard face-off, the ambush of arrows, the besiegement in enemy camps, and of course a perilous ‘cliff-top battle’ usually reserved for a character’s exit or the final showdown.

This, by no means exhausts the film’s litany of Wuxia tropes, which under a lesser director, may seem like a best of album, or a jukebox fight flick, but under the directorship of the choreographer behind best-selling wuxia blockbusters Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Fearless and The Grandmaster, the fights flow well into the exposition, revealing as much about the characterisation as the sparse moments of dialogue. The combat sequences are bold, and steer a course between nostalgic nods to the ‘90s, and modern fast-cut action, showing a very shrewd grasp of what popular cinema craves. Even the non-combative action demonstrates a magnificent understanding of cinematic history. While there’s nothing new in a fast-paced pursuit of a waggon, on horseback, Yuen Woo-Ping brings an intense sense of urgency to the proceedings, with POV shots from the middle of the pursuers. He evidently takes notes not only from classic westerns like Stagecoach, but contemporary movies such as George Miller’s Fury Road, and has Dao Ma picking off enemies one by one, amplifying the mood with rock notes underlying the soundtrack, a mishmash of tribal costumes, highlighting the savage infighting and competing for spoils.

Di Ting played by Nicolas Tse (Raging Fire), delivering a high kick at his assailant.

The combat was always going to be a little too visceral and brutal for my personal tastes, but I have to say, it is far tamer than the original comic, perhaps down to an awareness that this may not fly with the censors, and also to make the point that violence is not an end in itself. While we see splatters of gore with each thrust and slash, it’s not the fountains of black ink Xu committed to page. Still, the weight and impact of the violence is well carried in the solid choreography, the long lingering shots across the action, relying only occasionally on jump cuts and disguising camera angles. Having action star and martial artist Wu Jing in the lead definitely helps to give it that quality of full, connective combat.

The fighting, is of course the heart of Guardians, but it does still have the soul that makes it a good Wuxia? Amidst all this violence, is a small band of Xia trying to protect their only hope, a charismatic figure who offers the potential for a better future than the tyranny that currently reigns, and an innocent child with a special birthright. On a smaller scale, modern wuxia is always a tale of personal development, this one being the story of a boy and a young woman honouring the memories of fathers who died protecting them, and jaded-bounty hunters, who had lost their faith in the world, finding purpose again in the people around them, (one scene has them literally pulling each other out of the mud). Albeit few and far between, the small reflective moments of the film, such as Nobleman Chang’s conversation with Dao Ma on the difference between the police and a criminal, a Xia and bandit, and the group’s thoughtful conversations in their one safe haven, while Tiehua fireworks bloom over the river, all offer a palate cleanser, and some context to the conflict around them.

For a work that still falls into the Yanggang (“steel macho”) camp of martial arts cinema, I’m relieved to find the few female characters given autonomy and the chance to right the misdeeds they are subjected to, rather than relying on a man with bulging muscles and a white horse to come in and save the day.

While the international posters may not be studded with the star names, the cast gathered for this project is prestigious. Alongside Jet Li’s brief appearance, you’ll also find Shaw Brothers alumni Kara Ying Hung Wai (Wu Xia aka Dragon, My Young Auntie), and viral Yue opera singer Chen Lijun. In fact, so much of this film seems to be about juxtaposing the old and the new. A bold move, when you’re casting kungfu legends like Jet Li, now at the honourable age of 62, in a cameo role, and placing up and coming stars like Ci Sha (The Shadow’s Edge) and Yosh Yu at the forefront, despite limited international exposure. In fact, the whole pairing of Yuen Woo-ping, whose career has almost tracked along with the development of martial arts cinema since works like The Magnificent Butcher and Drunken Master, with the ‘90s born Xu Xianzhe, is no small statement in itself, and something I’ve been hoping to see in Wuxia for a long time.

Blades of the Guardians has felt like the perfect union between one of Wuxia’s best choreographers, and one of China’s best manhua storytellers. Considering that most of the recent blockbusters in the genre have been adaptations of Jin Yong (the ‘godfather of Wuxia’), an 81-year old director of Yuen’s calibre, working with a much younger author, really does signify a shift in the focus of attention to the new generation (something that the stinger states directly, in an exceptionally touching manner).

The film is an amazing piece of Wuxia Cinema, covering just a few volumes of Xu’s original manhua, and its critical acclaim lends hope not just for a sequel, but for the future of Wuxia cinema as a whole. After decades of screen collaborations across Sinophone regions and opportunities to hone their art in Chinese TV, brilliant new directors in the genre have emerged, such as Yin Tao, Guo Hu and Gam-Yuen Ng whose work I have loved, and as the ACG industries flourish in the 21^st century, aided by centralised initiatives of support, new creators are producing some amazing output in terms of story and art. Studios, and their backers are reaping the financial rewards too. Blades has been an absolute hit, grossing over 200 million dollars worldwide since its first release, and its distribution is proving to cinemas, and streaming services that there is plenty to be mined from China’s unique genre fiction, and I hope we’ll see more big-budget adaptations of contemporary Wuxia hitting our screens.

Blades of the Guardians his in UK and IE cinemas from 16 April, and screens as part of Far East Film Festival 2026, where director Yuen Woo-ping will be receive the Golden Mulberry Award for Lifetime Achievement.

About the author

Xueting Ni
Xueting C. Ni is a British Chinese author and literary curator, she has written extensively on Chinese cultures and its place in the Anglophone consciousness, working with major media and organisations, to help improve understanding of Sinophone heritage and innovations. She has contributed to cultural programmes of BBC, BFI and the Confucius Institute. Her non-fiction includes From Kuanyin to Chairman Mao: An Essential Guide to Chinese Deities and Chinese Myths. Her curated fiction in translation includes the anthologies Sinopticon and Sinophagia. Xueting’s co-written book Mahjong Illustrated: the Sound of Sparrows, and new collection China +100, will be out in 2026. She is currently working on a range of projects, including a book on Wuxia storytelling. She lives just outside London with her partner and their cats, all whom are learning Mandarin.
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