American audiences have had limited exposure to filmmaker Stephen Chow, although he's already a film icon overseas. Chow's first blip on the Western radar was Shaolin Soccer (2001), a slapstick combination of penalty and kung fu kicks. Chow's latest film, Kung Fu Hustle (which he wrote, directed and starred in), ups the ante, and Chow delivers a laugh-a-minute film that is raunchy, but childishly humorous.
From its opening credits, when a gang of vicious thugs perform a stylized, West Side Story-esque line dance, Kung Fu Hustle is a bizarre trip down Chow's funny bone. Unlike his action-filmmaking counterparts, who craft every stylized, slow-mo shot into a piece of eye candy, Chow bases his fight sequences on cartoon physics. His visuals reflect the hyperbole found in Warner Brothers' cartoons, and one chase scene is a direct homage to the Wile E. Coyote/Roadrunner chases, blurred legs and all.
Rather than causing incredulity, however, Chow's exaggerated visual style feels liberating. Many of today's blockbusters use slick CGI to hide weak filmmaking, but Kung Fu Hustle breaks rank -- its action sequences are cheap-looking by design. This ham-handedness is an easy source of accessible, physical humor, but it also spoofs CGI as a cinematic crutch rather than a plot enhancement.
The film works simultaneously as a satire of kung fu motifs -- Chow's characters deal with archetypal ancient legacies and warrior codes of honor. Their sobering speeches, however, are set against crude, rubber limbed sight gags, and the most serious characters are rendered mock-worthy rather than reverent.
The plot is a standard "against-all-odds" affair, pitting a bottom rung Cantonese village, aptly named Pig Sty Alley, against the deadly, powerful Axe Gang. Led by a married Landlord (Wah Yuen) and Landlady (Qiu Yuen), the village also has to deal with the bumbling Sing (Stephen Chow), who is trying to prove himself as a worthy Axe Gang member.
In a film like this, it goes without saying that Sing finds his way to the path of good. A romantic subplot involving a girl from Sing's childhood adds emotional weight to several scenes, and Chow is given ample room to demonstrate his cinematic artistry during these moments. Flashback scenes are filmed with soft lighting, and, at the end of the film, a 360-degree panning shot underscores Sing's childlike optimism toward true love.
These aesthetic scenes are few and far between, and they offer breathers from hilarious sight gags, which are the meat and potatoes of this film.
With Kung Fu Hustle, Chow has made a film about films. The jabs he takes at the kung fu genre are tempered by his extensive knowledge of its conventions. At a time when films are criticized for being all style and no substance, Kung Fu Hustle indulges expectations. Its keen grasp on self-parody, however, makes it a worthy film.