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.