Films, like any form of art, are
created in order to evoke a cavalcade of emotions, but there are generally just
three ways in which movies can affect me: entertain, annoy, devastate. And this
week, I experienced all three reactions. Intensely.
Filmmaker Stephen Chow is quite
possibly the result of a drunken threesome involving Jackie Chan, Quentin
Tarantino, and Wile E. Coyote. The latest movie from Hong Kong cinema’s hottest
hyphenate (writer-director-actor) is Kung Fu Hustle, a relentless Acme
anvil of a film that is thoroughly steeped in Hollywood history and is the most
fun you’ll have in the dark with a bucket of popcorn in your lap and surrounded
by strangers. Or maybe not. But I’m really not here to judge you.
Kung
Fu Hustle takes place in Pig Sty Alley, the studio backlot version of a
tenement populated by movie stereotypes (slimy slumlord, his ballbusting wife,
fey tailor) and under the thumb of the nefarious Axe Gang. One day a couple of
strangers roll into town, and these wannabe gangsters unwittingly cause the
wrath of the Axe Gang to rain down on Pig Sty Alley, though its simple denizens
seem to be up to the challenge.
It’s initially hard to tell the good
from the evil here, though I don’t mean to convey that this is some complicated
Flying Daggers-type flick — the
computer-generated effects make no attempt at reality, and the cartoony bits
are just that, complete with an oversized, snake-bitten kisser and a Road
Runner-type chase that is as accomplished as it is ridiculous. My only problem
with Kung Fu Hustle was the
unnecessary romance, which wasn’t so much a plot point as a shorthand way of
telling us something we need to know and forcing us to leave the theater with a
smile. I would have done that anyway.
And for those who don’t care about
plot or cinematography or performances, here are three little words that will
make the heart of any action fan flutter: Yuen Wo Ping. The revered fight
choreographer (Crouching Tiger, Hidden
Dragon; The Matrix) is in charge
of a cast that includes at least two famous faces from Asian cinema, Yuen Qiu
in a deceptively slapstick turn as the profane, chain-smoking landlady, and
Yuen Wah as her husband, who we are pleased to learn can hold his own.
Kung
Fu Hustle is set up like a spaghetti Western, albeit one with splashes of
Hollywood musicals, a little Mamet-speak, and some dazzling, bloody skirmishes
— a Tarantino film, basically. But since Tarantino freely admits to borrowing
from Hong Kong cinema, we should be on the lookout for signs that the universe
is collapsing in on itself.
Normally,
I think dining on your fellow man is hilarious. Delicatessen, Ravenous — it’s the perfect way to illustrate what lies in our dark hearts and the
lengths to which some people will go. But Anders Thomas Jensen’s The
Green Butchers, another dark comedy about inadvertent cannibalism, was
unfortunately too dark and too irritating to be funny.
The perpetually deadpan Mads
Mikkelsen (Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself)
stars as Svend, a sweaty control freak who decides to open his own butcher shop
with his stoner friend Bjarne (Nikloaj Lie Kaas). Initially business is
nonexistent, until an electrician gets accidentally locked in the walk-in
freezer and he needs to be disposed of. But why didn’t Svend just… never mind.
The chicky-wickies, as the delicious cuts of electrician are called, get really
popular, though the ingredients have run out. What to do?
There are other subplots about
Bjarne’s comatose twin and the quirky love interest who works at the cemetery
(naturally), but when characters make the most inexplicable choices possible
and behave in ways that normal people don’t, I get really frustrated. I know
it’s all designed to fuel a plot and tell a story, but a little truth might be
nice.
Head On is a brutal, messy piece
about love and sacrifice between two Turkish immigrants in Germany that ripped
my heart out and showed it to me. It’s easily the best film I’ve seen this
year, but it will probably — and sadly — get lost amidst other filmgoing
choices and sunny weather, so I’m praying for rain and strategic blackouts.
You’ll thank me later.
Cahit and Sibel meet at the hospital
after their respective suicide attempts — him via car crash, her via wrist
slashing. Though they don’t get along, Sibel proposes marriage to Cahit to get
away from her strict family, and Cahit, who was unable to save someone in his
past, puts his death wish aside to help Sibel. He’s got about 20 years on her
and a sometime girlfriend, and she just wants to dance and screw and do drugs
without repercussions from her family. But has there ever been a movie marriage
of convenience that actually turned out to be convenient?
The performances of Birol Unel as
Cahit and Sibel Kekilli as Sibel start off with all the exaggerated drama of
people who hope to kill themselves in the bloodiest ways possible and then
settle into a quiet acceptance of each other and their chosen destinies. It
leaves you rooting for them and hoping they will realize what we already know
before it’s too late.
But as the tears streamed down my
face during the closing credits of Head
On, it made me think that getting emotionally wrecked so people will know
whether to part with eight bucks may not be the healthiest way to make a
living.
Kung
Fu Hustle (R), directed by Stephen Chow, opens Friday, April 22. Culver Ridge, Pittsford Cinema, Greece Ridge
12 | The Green Butchers (R),
opens Friday, April 22. Little Theatre |
Head On (R), opens Friday, April 22.
Little Theatre
This article appears in Apr 20-26, 2005.
