Kung Fu Hustle
Stephen Chow is the Orson Welles of Kung Fu flicks; in this film he writes, directs, produces, stars, and gets all the hero close-ups. However, I was still a bit worried because while people went on about his last, Shaolin Soccer, it was still
shit. There were about five good minutes, and eighty five boring ones. Not so much Shaolin Soccer as Leicester City v Crewe in the second round of the Carling Cup, with a good 22-man handbags at the end.
There is the very occasional tedious or incomprehensible bit in Kung Fu Hustle, but most of the time it's like a live action cartoon, with Lord Buddha personally kicking arse at the end. The old couple are fantastic, and there's a gratuitously non-fu fat bloke as well; it's the same feeling you got when you watched Monkey as a kid. This film is
good, and if you don't like it you shouldn't really bother with a) Kung Fu films, b) cartoons, c) fun or d) laughing, in future.
One Man and His Pun
A new entry in the neglected Patagonian Road Movie with Dog genre. The main character's a sacked garage attendant, so meek you're in danger of thinking he's a hallucination. The guy who plays him, Juan Villegas, isn't a professional actor, apparently he's the bloke who parked the director's car for ten years.
He's given a big white non-fluffy dog that never seems to poo, and his life improves no end. He's got something special, and people are interested in that. You can see it's a very new sensation for him. There is the flimsiest of narrative development, then the film ends, and you leave the cinema wondering whether you shouldn't have seen Kung Fu Hustle instead.
This isn't a bad film, it's relentlessly slight and charming, like a beautiful packet of expensive crisps, handcut by sushi chefs, which cost about a pound fifty, but when you open the packet you find there's only
six Christing crisps in there. In the end you want MORE. I'm afraid I can't give this film a good rating so that qualifies it as
shit.