Shaolin Soccer
Reviewed by YTSL
Ever laughed so much while watching a movie that
your throat actually gets dry and your voice becomes hoarse? This is
what I discovered had happened to me when I came out of a cinema screening
of Stephen Chow’s first film of the new millenium: One which is not
perfect -- and is in fact somewhat uneven in tone and pacing (plus often
way more jarringly violent than one might expect of an offering which is
primarily of a comedic nature) -- but really does have some ultra funny moments,
scenes and segments. Here’s also giving notice of this masterful combo
of mo lei tau comedy, some high drama, a bit of romance plus lots of action
choreographed by Ching Siu Tung that’s laced with lashings of special effects
magic being: A work that gets better and better the further along it
goes; plus one that builds up to an extremely hysterical climax in which
Vicky Zhao Wei – who plays a Tai Chi expert called Ah Mui -- it is who actually
elicits a trio of loud guffaws (even while the honor does fall to the show’s
co-director, -scriptwriter and –producer as well as undisputed star to deliver
the very satisfying winning kick).
This is not to say though that SHAOLIN SOCCER doesn’t have a really cool
beginning credit sequence that is guaranteed to make people sit up and be
prepared to be entertained for the next hour and a half or so. However,
immediately after that very peppy start, the film segues into some ultimately
necessary but not particularly happy expository and contextualizing scenes
involving two soccer team-mates who turn out to be each other’s major nemeses
in life. In brief: A series of events leads to the not at all
nice and rather sleazy Fung (who is portrayed in his later years by Patrick
Tse) being able to lord it over the erstwhile great player known as Golden
Right Leg (who morphs into a physically lame man who appears in the form
of Ng Man Tat), to the extent of the former using the latter’s head as a
foot stand whenever he wants to clean one of his smudged shoes. Although
it is rather obvious that the disgustingly prideful Fung is setting himself
up for a fall, it still makes for rather painful viewing to see anyone undergoing
the kind of humiliation that he so obviously enjoyed doling out to the latterly
ironically named Golden Right Leg.
Therefore, it was in at least some ways quite a relief that, after being
denied what he thought had been a promised chance to coach Fung’s formidable
Evil (soccer) Team, the former soccer hero decided to finally part company
with the evil individual who had officially been his benefactor and employer
but had really schemed to reduce him to but a broken, heavily stubbled shadow
of a man. And although he initially did not recognize it to be so,
it was indeed extremely fortuitous for Golden Right Leg that he soon met
the acquaintance of a Shaolin kungfu master (by training but impoverished
cleaner cum recyling materials collector by occupation) named Sing (who is
essayed by the mega talent popularly known as Sing Jai) since: For
one thing, Sing is an upbeat personality who is capable of raising the spirits
of most people; for another, he has an incredibly powerful (right) leg that
is capable of unleashing the kind of shots that most – if not all (other)
-- soccer players can only dream of; and for a third thing, he manages to
rope five of his brother Shaolin kungfu exponents (who are portrayed by an
interesting looking bunch of first-time and veteran actors consisting of
– in order of seniority -- Wong Yat Fei, Tin Kai Man, Mok Mei Lam, Chen Kuo
Kun and Lam Chi Chung) to form the nucleus – along with himself – of a soccer
team to challenge Fung’s Evil Team and compete in a tournament whose prize
money is to the tune of $1 million.
As one might rightly expect, the best parts of SHAOLIN SOCCER include those
segments of the Stephen Chow and Lee Lik Chi co-directed offering that feature
Shaolin kungfu trained folk playing – or comically attempting to play and/or
harness their specialist martial artistic abilities (e.g., an iron head)
to suit the game of – soccer. Many of these have to be seen to be believed
(to have been captured on film) as well as are far better seen than described.
Be rest assured though that it’s not just computer wizardry – even while
it’s of a caliber probably not previously seen in a Hong Kong movie -- that
makes them impressive but also the sheer imagination involved and combination
of such with actual, albeit often wire enhanced, human action(s). Similarly,
there most definitely are abundant low tech delights and low brow humor (including
those involving broken eggs and someone’s bald egg-shaped head) to be found
as well in these sections together with the rest of this Stephen Chow and
Yeung Kwok-Fai co-production.
Alternatively, fans of Karen Mok and Cecilia Cheung ought not assume that
just because their names prominently feature in the film’s credits, these
two former co-stars of the Chow man will have much screen time in SHAOLIN
SOCCER. For all the early hype about her, the same applies with regards
to newcomer Sardonar Li Hui (whose role I think of as being that of “the
banana skin woman”). Even Vicky Zhao Wei doesn’t appear as frequently
as one might assume of a Hong Kong movie’s female lead. Still, I would
say that the young actress does manage to make a truly memorable impression
in all of the scenes in which she appears, despite the heavy – and far from
beauty enhancing – make up which she has on each of those occasions; and
I do hope that she will turn up in future Stephen Chow works, if not other
big screen offerings.
Lest anyone be in any doubt, SHAOLIN SOCCER is
most surely mainly Sing Jai’s show and the HKSAR’s King of Comedy is in fine
form in this Y2K1 (northern hemisphere) summer production (which doesn’t
require the viewer to be a soccer fan to love it, though I’d wager that it
does help for this to be so). While the movie’s script and English
sub-titling could have been better, there should be little doubt that this
effort has more than its share of thoroughly enjoyable and wonderfully hilarious
as well as visually remarkable sections. In fact, I’d challenge any
fan of Hong Kong comedies to not be inclined to say – or at least think --
after viewing this offering: “Welcome back, Mr. Chow; you’ve been missed
– especially around Chinese New Year time 2000 and 2001 -- but boy, have
you come back with a vengeance!”
My rating for this film: 8.
