“Confucius said; a man in a brothel is nobody’s judge,” San Francisco courtesan, Ay Toy (Olivia Cheng) preaches to Ah Sahm (Andrew Koji), or the “itchy onion” – a scrappy Chinese immigrant fresh off the boat. “Confucius never said that,” he tells her. “This is not China,” she warns, “It’s Chinatown. And our blood is cheap here, so you’d better learn to adapt.”
Based on the writings of Bruce Lee –and overseen by his daughter, Shannon Lee– Cinemax’s mindful and hard-hitting new series, “Warrior,” might not forge new narrative territory, but it impressively encapsulates the feeling of marginalized existence, exploring issues of ethnic identity by tapping into Western formula and injecting its tropes with a raw sense of racial identity. Playing like an action-packed hybrid of “Deadwood” and “Peaky Blinders,” the show (executive produced by Jonathan Tropper, “Banshee” and Justin Lin “Fast & Furious 6”) takes place in 1878, San Francisco, leading up to the historic Tong Wars and perhaps even more infamous Chinese Exclusion Act (which suspended immigration “across the salt” for years).
After displaying his prodigious martial arts prowess and embarrassing some racist Americans, our “itchy onion” is recruited into one of the most powerful Tong factions. Ah Sahm becomes one of their hatchet men, but secretly has traveled to the U.S. in search of his sister, Mai Ling (Dianne Doan), now a protected figure of high importance within the infrastructure of a rival gang. Li Yong (Joe Taslim, “The Raid”) shows off his fighting skills as her favorite go-to Tong lieutenant.
With people losing jobs to others willing to work for less, Deputy Mayor Buckley (Langley Kirkwood) aims to see the proposed Exclusion Act passed. Sergeant “Big Bill” O’Hara (Kieran Bew) is assigned the task of forming a Chinatown squadron. Christian McKay (of “Me and Orson Welles” fame) plays Mayor Blake, a closeted political compliant, seemingly more concerned with his bedroom frustrations than any issue facing San Francisco (his arc perhaps an attempt to parallel the prejudiced anti-immigration nonsense pushed by the aloof elected officials of today).
What separates “Warrior” from the banality of some period series is its commitment to exploring the subjective experience of the exoticized Chinese immigrant, through its bold and unique use of spoken language. Many of the actors speak in three different dialects. When white characters eavesdrop on Chinese immigrants speaking their native tongue, the dialog is subtitled. When talking amongst themselves, Tong brothers and brothel workers chat in English (not all the actors are fluent in Cantonese) and the series pokes fun at the perpetual foreigner stereotype, mocking broken language through performance (it’s indelible watching Koji and co-star Hoon Lee turn one spoken mode off and another one on). The action is a bit choppy in places but impressive, overall, and very well choreographed.
Structurally, “Warrior” sometimes resolves its complications with a single snap-motion. A new obstacle will arise – one foreshadowing potential for an overarching plotline – and it’s often resolved within an episode. Of course, there are several long-term storylines seeded (it’s still television), but the show seems content to take on only or two threads at a time (perhaps to not overwhelm the viewer with its headier political ideas). This approach is jarring in the early episodes, but with some distance, ultimately it becomes refreshing to see a series so content to breathe – not feeling the need to add a half-season of unnecessary padding.
Resolutions sometimes feel too easy and not fully earned, especially considering the subject matter. Yet, by focusing on only a handful of core players and exploring them through distinct character perspective, the series feels sharp even when its standard plotting or forced dialog staggers (the series occasionally tries a bit too hard to sound like David Milch).
“Warrior” is far from a perfect series (it, most certainly, earns the ‘Skinemax’ label that befalls many projects from the network). However, what makes it deserving of a place alongside other modern melodramas is its distinct identity. In a later episode, the show takes a break from its setting for a “The Hateful Eight” style bottle episode. The Western form may be unabashedly familiar, but it is the unique viewpoint that makes all the difference. Capturing the feeling of marginalized cultural existence through a subjective fighting stance is “Warrior’s” top priority, and that alone ends up making the show feel worthy of Bruce Lee’s legacy. [B]