Tag: hong kong

The Escape

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★★
“Not so great…”

I’m just going to begin by quoting the opening credit titles. Spelling, grammar and punctuation as received. “At the early stage of Republic of China, Yuan Hsi Hai wanted to rebel the democratic government & be the king. But there were 300,000 soldiers at Yuan Wan under the command of General Tsai obstructed his desire, so he cheated General Tsai to Peking & confined his movements. So Yuan who lived in Chu Jen Hall could fulfil his ambition but…” I reproduce this because, to a large extent, that’s everything I’ve got in terms of the over-arching plot here. It’s all about Tsai (Kwan) getting out of the city, in order to lead his troops and, presumably, frustrate Yuan’s dictatorial ambitions.

Key to this is Peking Opera star Hsiao Yu (Lee), who is hired by Yuan’s men to keep an eye on the General. However, she’s not as loyal as her employer would hope, and she gradually becomes attached to and involved with Tsai. This eventually results in her helping him to escape the house arrest under which he has been placed. I believe this to be true with… let’s say 90% confidence. There does appear to be other stuff going on: none of it is able to make it through the terrible presentation, and out the other side, to provide details which I prepared to commit to the keyboard. It’s kinda clear why Lee’s Queen Boxer made it out in the West, and this didn’t, even though both were made around the same time.

This did rather well at Taiwan’s 1973 Golden Horse awards, winning Best Film, Leading Actor, Screenplay and a special award for “Outstanding Performance” going to Lee (she lost Best Leading Actress to Hsiao-Lao Lin in A Heroic Fight). All I can say is, it must have been a very slow year in cinema, for this largely plodding and uninteresting history-political drama to have triumphed. Though, again, the presentation does it no justice. For example, there’s one scene where Tsai is repeatedly writing something in large letters on paper. It’s clearly very important to him. Unfortunately, the subtitles – as ever, intended for a Chinese audience, not a Western one – don’t bother to translate it. So its significance is entirely lost.

Lee is about the only reason to watch this, and the film definitely goes up a gear whenever she’s on screen. Her background actually was in the Peking Opera, making this right in her wheel-house. The director – and some sources also credit both Kwan and Florence Yu Fung-Chi – wisely lets her talent shine through, and it’s a no-nonsense approach that works. Witness, for example, the casual way, she shoves a victim out of the way with her feet, after crushing his larynx. But one of the problems is, I honestly couldn’t tell you who’s she’s fighting at the end, or why, since the General has already escaped. It’s just another element lost in translation here, like so many others, and leaves this an underwhelming entity, in the only form available.

Dir: Min-Hsiung Wu
Star: Judy Lee, Peter Yang Kwan, Lee Hung, Cheung Kwong-Chiu 

In the Line of Duty IV

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★★★★½
“A thinly connected series of action set-pieces…but what set-pieces!”

Back in the early nineties, I saw a double-bill of this and Jackie Chan’s Police Story at the late, lamented Scala Cinema in London, and it blew my mind. I had literally never seen anything like them before. The only martial arts movies I’d watched previously were crappy American ones, which made little or no impression. That afternoon changed my life, and awakened a love of the genre that persists to this day. But would In the Line of Duty 4 stand the test of time? There are certainly movies I loved from the same era, which are now a bit cringe, to put it mildly. So it was with some trepidation that I hit play…

Nope, it’s still goddamn awesome. Sure, it’s a bit rough around the edges, and both the plot and performances are little more than means to an end. But the end justifies the means, 100%. I can’t remember the last time a film provoked so many exclamations from me. It felt like every other scene, there’d be another terrific feat of physical prowess, agility or simply endurance. It’s amazing to see Donnie Yen, then a young, skinny and rough-edged twentysomething, but clearly with raw talent in spades. It took almost thirty-five years for him to get the recognition he deserved, with his co-starring role in John Wick 4.

According to another review, 42 of the film’s 93 minutes are action. Reading this, my immediate reaction was, “That little?” Because it feels like it’s almost a non-stop procession of set-pieces, a highlight reel in feature form. It’s not just hand-to-hand combat either. There are some great vehicular stunts, such as a motorcycle chase, or a fabulous battle in, on and around an ambulance. It’s clear that we really have Cynthia Khan dangling off the front of the vehicle, in a way that looks genuinely dangerous, and quite probably was [the eighties in Hong Kong cinema wasn’t exactly a poster-child for health and safety!] I do wish they hadn’t undercranked some sequences; they’re impressive enough they don’t need to be sped-up.

For when all is said and done, the fights are flat-out awesome. It’s not just Khan and Yen, though they obviously get most to do. Everyone here is well up to the task, both showing off their own stuff and letting the stars look good by selling for them. On the female front, I want to give special praise to Farlie Ruth Kordica, who fights Cynthia around a lift-shaft in another sequence which feels disturbingly life-threatening. She only appeared in a couple of other films, which feels like a real shame, based on her performance here. It’s a wonderfully inventive scene (bottom), taking full advantage of the potential in the environment. 

There is a case to be made that Yen is the star here, above Khan. The end caption doesn’t even mention her character, Insp. Yeung Lai-Ching, though Khan definitely is not outclassed. But Lai-Ching is the film’s emotional heart, always intent on doing the morally ‘right’ thing, even if it’s not in line with the law. She is the Jiminy Cricket, trying to keep Donnie’s loose cannon in check, while also trying to figure out who’s the mole in her department. The story, incidentally, has aged well: the CIA openly dealing drugs in order to fund Latin American rebels? That’s not something you would expect to see in an American film from that time, the whole Iran-Contra thing being seen as a bit of an embarrassment. Fittingly, it is Khan’s character who delivers the final blow to this Yankee scheme, falling to its doom and taking the American flag with it.

I will admit that the soundtrack is underwhelming: despite two credited composers, it feels like stock tracks pulled at random from the library. There are also times when the plot logic is less than logical, with bad guys and good guys popping up in convenient places for the next showdown, with little or no explanation. Yet this hardly dampens things, because: yep, means to an end. The eighties was an amazing decade for action cinema, from The Empire Strikes Back, through The Terminator, Aliens and Die Hard. I can honestly say that In the Line of Duty 4 deserves to be ranked among those, and remains one of the best examples of Hong Kong cinema, doing what it does best.

[Original review] I don’t think I’ve ever seen a HK film with more action; it seems that every five minutes, along comes another breathtaking fight or stunt sequence. Of course, when you have a master at the helm (Yuen did the fights for The Matrix), you expect a little more, but this is fabulous, even by his standards.

Donnie Yen is perhaps the most under-rated martial artist of our generation, and watching him here, it’s hard to see why he hasn’t become a major star, rather than lurking in (effective) supporting roles in Blade 2 and Highlander: Endgame. For speed, agility and skill, his fights are almost without equal, and most female co-stars would be overshadowed. Fortunately, Cynthia Khan, though occasionally clearly doubled, does more than enough to keep on the same lap – the fight atop, alongside, and dangling from the front of, a speeding ambulance is eyepoppingly extreme, while her aerial battle around a lift shaft is also worthy of mention.

The story is clearly secondary to all this, but for the record, Khan and Yen are cops, one from Hong Kong, one from America, who team up to find a witness to a murder. Double-dealing and twists abound, though most are so obvious, you suspect they were just waiting for cast members to get out of hospital. :-) Interesting to see a foreign view of American cops – even Yen is a barely-controlled psychonaut. Khan is more sympathetic, but characterisation never goes beyond the most basic. However, this is an action movie, and as such, it’s near-perfect, with invention, energy and hardcore guts to spare from all concerned.

Dir: Yuen Wo-Ping
Star: Cynthia Khan, Donnie Yen, Michael Wong, Yuen Yat Choh

An Eye for an Eye (2000)

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★★
“Somewhat eye-dentical.”

This opens with a scene that is almost a direct life from the similarly titled Eye for An Eye, directed by John Schlesinger four years previously. Here, businesswoman Carmen Pak (Cheong) is on a video-call – or, at least, the primitive 2000 version thereof – with her daughter, Shan (Tong), when someone breaks in and attacks Shan. Carmen can do little except watch in horror as her daughter is brutalized and raped. Though Shan identifies her rapist as Kiu Chi Yeung (Tong), there’s enough doubt over her statement, specifically regarding a tattoo he does not posses, that the police are unable to do anything. After further tragedy, Carmen decides to seek the justice she has been denied, through her own hands.

To this movie’s mild credit, it does divert from its American predecessor after the opening sequence, though this never manages to find its own identity entirely. It’s based on a rather shaky premise: namely that someone accused of rape would then, almost without hesitation, embark on a relationship with his accuser’s mother. It’s not even as if Yeung doesn’t know who Carmen is, which could have given the concept a sheen of plausibility. She’s right there when Shan physically attacks him after they both leave the police station. The script tries to walk a line of uncertainty as to whether or not Shan is guilty, though not particularly successfully. If you can’t figure out who was the perpetrator before the final confrontation, you haven’t been paying enough attention.

I did like the supporting character of Officer Chan (Ko), who initially comes off as a bit of a callous jerk, caring more about his mahjong losses than the rape case he’s investigating. However, he becomes more sympathetic as things unfold, being more a harried and overworked cop, who still tries to warn Carmen into taking care of things herself. It’s likely a better arc than the heroine gets, her development being largely summarized in a training montage where she hides a knife in the sofa, and uses it to attack innocent watermelons. It’s a curiously specific bit of practice, one made all the more odd by having little or no relevance down the road. She’s no more than semi-competent in terms of self-defense.

The same grade likely applies to the film-making on view as a whole. I can’t point to any elements that are especially deficient. Yet even less can I point to any elements which demonstrate innovation or even artistry. Everything plods along in workmanlike fashion, towards an ending that offers no particular surprises or thrills. Considering the subject matter, it’s surprisingly tame as exploitation, and would barely seem out of place as a Lifetime original movie. I was left yearning for the lurid excess of someone like Wong Jing to inject some pep into proceedings. We are, after all, talking about an anti-rapist vigilante here. This feels more like Carmen is fighting white-collar crime of some kind.

Dir: Yuen Shu-Wai
Star: Angie Cheong,  Michael Tong, Blacky Ko, Leila Tong

Whore and Policewoman

  By

★★★
“We prefer the term ‘sex worker’ these days…”

If the title is more than a bit blunt, it’s certainly accurate. May Lin (Cheng) is a brash hooker, who runs a sideline in blackmail videos with her flatmate, Nana. But one night she comes home to find Nana near death, the victim of a brutal client. She tells the police about the video, but before she can give it to them, the perpetrator – rich and influential politician, Kao Tien Chin (Cho) – sends an army of beige trenchcoat wearing killers to take care of both Nana and May. The former succumbs, but the latter escapes and goes on the run. With the police force apparently leaking like a sieve and the case being shut down from on high, prosecutor Yin Li Shan sends his niece, Nancy Cheng (Mishiwaki), to link up with May and bring her in. But they’ll have to get past the trenchcoat mafia, among other threats, for there to be any hope of justice.

This is relatively late in the Hong Kong GWG cycle, and is rougher than most, in more ways than one. There is a nice character arc for May, who initially seems intensely dislikeable, but ends up fiercely loyal to her protector, after realizing the extent to which Nancy will go – literally taking a bullet for the prostitute. This is harshly demonstrated when May lets herself be gang-raped, to save the injured Nancy from that fate. While not in any way explicit, it’s a tough sequence to watch, May mouthing “Go away” to Nancy. Of course, there’s the usual bonding in the middle between the mismatched pair, as they realize neither deserves the scorn with which they view each other.

The plot is more than a little flimsy, with any number of points at which things could easily have been resolved. There are some remarkable moments of coincidence too. For instance, after escaping the trenchcoaters (in a rather risky-looking stunt, involving a plummeting jeep and a giant fireball), seconds later in screen time, May and Nancy bump into them again at a train station. Similarly, the rapists are coincidentally re-encountered, giving our heroines the opportunity for revenge. However, in both cases, the results are a solid bit of one versus many action, in the interesting environments of a train carriage and a food court respectively, so we’ll let it slip.

I do wonder if Nishiwaki was injured during shooting. Because when it comes to the final confrontation, at a party in Chin’s offices, Nancy is replaced by another character for the last battle, without explanation. It’s not a stand-in, it’s a completely different actress in a separate, unnamed role. Very bizarre. This may also have been the final movie of Nishiwaki’s Hong Kong career, which would lend support to the “major injury” theory. All told, this is decent enough. Not all of it works (though the crappy English sub job doesn’t help), yet a sufficient quantity does, and with acceptable pacing to ensure the viewer is never bored, at least for too long.

Dir: Kuo-Chu Huang
Star: Yim Lai Cheng, Michiko Nishiwaki, Hoi-San Kwan, Charlie Cho

Lady of the Law

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★★★
“I am the law…”

I kept moving between 2½ and 3 stars for this. It is pretty chatty, and the focus is not as much on the title character as I might have hoped. But there’s no denying that Leng (Shi) is a very solid character, and when she gets her chances to shine, does so in a memorable fashion. This is nowhere better illustrated than her final battle, where she takes on an enemy – who just tried to molest Leng, believing her drugged – while they both balance on a tight-rope. There’s no particular reason for the fight to take place in such an environment. The ground would have been perfectly fine. But it adds an extra dimension, and the way it’s filmed makes it feel surprisingly possible that they were wobbling about up there.

To get there is, however, quite a process. There’s a rapist going about China, but when he eventually escalates to murdering the concubine of a high official, something must be done. That something is Leng, a smart and persistent officer of the law. However, the real rapist, Chen (Shek), and his rich father frame Jiao (Lo) for the crime; he flees, with Leng in pursuit. The Chens seek to make sure Jiao can’t testify. They also seek to sideline and silence an incriminating witness – a blind man who can identify the rapist by his voice. As a result, he could both exonerate Jiao and pin blame on the real culprit.

Once this gets going, it is, however, mostly a pursuit, with Leng tracking Jiao across the countryside. The best sequence likely has him hiding out in a palace whose owner has a massive harem of Warrior concubines. They’re… quite pleased by Jiao’s arrival, but their owner refuses to help Leng in her quest, unless she can defeat the entire harem. It’s a nicely staged sequence, which must have required Shaw Brothers to hire just about every woman at the time in Hong Kong, who knew how to operate the business end of a sword. On the other hand, Lo is top-billed for a reason, and definitely gets a good slab of screen time, despite the title of the movie. 

There’s even a prologue where we discover the same men who framed him was responsible for the death of his father, and the child Jiao was only saved by the intervention of the child Leng. This doesn’t add much to proceedings, and can safely be ignored. The same goes for Jiao’s secret mastery of the Flaming Daggers technique: demonstrated, the completely forgotten. I’d rather have seen the time used to develop Leng’s story, such as the intriguing relationship with her white eyebrowed, Taoist mother. Shih apparently took over at Shaw Brothers as their star, after Cheng Pei Pei moved to California in the early seventies. This, which I’ve read sat on the shelf for several years, is the first film of hers I’ve seen (outside of bizarre Shaw/Hammer co-production, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires). However, there was enough here to make me interested in finding some of her other work.

Dir: Siu Wing
Star: Shih Szu, Lo Lieh, Chang Pei-Shan, Dean Shek

The Vengeful Beauty

  By

★★★½
“Beauty vs. the Beasts”

A court official is killed by the emperor’s minion, Jin Gang-feng (Lo), after discovering evidence linking the monarch to a recent slew of terrorist attacks involving the feared “flying guillotine”. His wife, Rong Qiu-yan (Ping), was out of the house at the time, and is forced to flee for her life. Jin knows that he can’t let the emperor know there was a survivor, and his hunt for her has to remain low-profile, so he sends his three children out after Qui-Yan. However, their target is a renowned martial artist in her own right, and is able to fend off their attacks, with the help of a student who learned under the same master,  Wang-jun (Yueh), and a former member of the flying guillotines, Ma Seng (Chu). Eventually, Jin decides that if a job’s worth doing, you need to do it yourself. Though there’s one further threat to Qiu-yan, coming from an unexpected quarter.

This all unfolds at a brisk pace over 80 minutes, with plenty of action – there’s a fight-scene about every 5-10 minutes. These are mostly pretty good, even if Chen is probably the least effective fighter on display here. Her background is more in adult fare than martial arts, and though she remains fully-dressed here, Jin’s daughter does do a bit of topless martial arts in pursuit of her target. So there’s that… The makers do a good job at disguising any shortcomings, and we also need to cut her character some slack, since she’s supposed to be several months pregnant! On that basis, any activity more energetic than sedately climbing a set of stairs should probably be admired.

Though despite the title, Qiu-yan is really not all that “vengeful”. Although she certainly kills a lot of people, they’re almost entirely dispatched in self-defense after they attack her, with Jin likely the only true qualifier in that category. The number and styles of weapons on view is impressive, each character having a favourite. Of course, the flying guillotine – which does what it sounds like it does – is a stand-out, but I also have to mention Ma’s ability with crockery, presumably a skill picked up during his time as an assassin for the emperor. I’m a bit surprised his character didn’t get a spin-off film, potentially entitled Master of the Flying Bowl Movement.

While there is at least one twist along the way, it ends up as you’d expect, with Qiu-yan facing off against the man responsible for the death of her husband. Though in another imaginative element, she has to find the right person to kill, first fighting her way through an army of doubles wearing Jin masks. This is the kind of element which sustains the film, even if the heroine’s fights are short of what the likes of Angela Mao were providing around the same time. It’s currently available on Amazon Prime in a nice, widescreen print that is definitely the way to go, and despite its age, offers a very acceptable amount of entertainment value.

Dir:  Meng Hua Ho
Star: Chen Ping, Norman Chui, Hua Yueh, Lieh Lo

Lady General Hua Mu-lan

  By

★½
“Cinematic morphine.”

I probably should have done a bit more research before adding this to the list of versions for review here. I saw a sixties movie made by Shaw Brothers with that title, and presumed there would be kung-fu. Boy, was I wrong. There’s about one significant scene, which pits Mulan (Po) and some of her new army colleagues against each other. And that’s it. Oh, there is a battle between Imperial and invading forces. This might have contained some action, but was so poorly photographed – mostly due to incredibly bad lighting – that it was impossible to tell. What there was, instead, was singing.

Lots of singing.

For this is as much an action movie, as Hamilton was a documentary about the Revolutionary War. Now, I’ve no problems with musicals per se. I’m just more Rodgers and Hammerstein than Stephen Sondheim: I like something I can whistle. This sounds more like notes being strung together at random, and when an apparently jaunty tune is accompanied by lyrics more befitting Scandinavian death metal (“They burn, they slaughter, they rape, they catch”) the effect is even more dissonant than the score.

If I’d looked up Wikipedia beforehand, I’d have seen this described this as a “Huangmei opera musical.” Huangmei opera, in case you didn’t know (and I certainly didn’t), is a bit like the better known Peking opera. Except, per Wikipedia, “The music is performed with a pitch that hits high and stays high for the duration of the song.” To my untrained Western ear, this meant the musical numbers basically sounded like our cats, demanding to be fed. I don’t like five minutes of that kind of thing (especially at 5:30 in the morning). I can now state confidently, I do not like it at feature length either.

This actually starts reasonably well. Initially, Mulan conspires with her cousin Hua Ming (Chu) and sister to carry out her plan. This ends after her alternate persona tries to spar with her father, though he ends up giving his blessing. Ming accompanies her into military service, and they rise through the ranks. Mulan begins to have feelings for her superior officer, General Li (Chin). He likes her too, impressed with her intelligence and courage… and this Mulan would be a fine match for his daughter. #awkward. Cue mournful singing, naturally.

But the lack of dramatic conflict is what really kills this, stone dead. Mulan’s parents are largely on board with her decision. The invaders are never established as a particular threat. And everyone is remarkably chill with discovering the person they’ve known for over a decade has been deceiving them on an everyday basis. The complete absence of tension explains the tag-line at the top. Obviously, I am not the target audience for Huangmei opera. That’s fine. However, I’ve enjoyed plenty of films for which I am not the target audience, and I suspect this fails to travel well, for a variety of reasons.

Dir: Feng Yueh
Star: Ivy Ling Po, Han Chin, Kam-Tong Chan, Mu Chu

Vixen

  By

★★
“Die Hardly”

This is a painfully lazy knock-off of a certain, well-known action film, in which terrorists take hostages in a multi-storey building over the festive season. This action is as cover for their actual goal, which is the robbery of a well-secured vault. But one of the inhabitants evades the initial surge, and begins to run interference. They get help and moral support over the airwaves by someone on the outside, and use the air-ducts in the building to avoid detection. Yeah. It’s like that, and you’ll probably understand why my eyes were rolling when we get the line, “Ho-ho-ho, motherfucker.” Now, there’s no doubt the makers openly acknowledge their inspiration. But pleading guilty doesn’t get you out of the crime. At least other, similarly inspired movies, e.g. No Contest  – hell, even Skyscraper – took the idea and added some of their own thoughts. This? Make the central character a woman who knows martial arts. That’s it.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing, of course. But if you’re going to get away with such glaringly obvious plagiarism, you need to be top-notch in other areas. Because this inevitably invites comparison with that certain, well-known action movie, and to put it mildly, Vixen comes out behind, in virtually every aspect. The paucity of the resources is the most obvious one. This supposedly takes place at a top-tier security conference, yet is apparently attended by a total of eight people, and takes place in a corner of a hotel ballroom, screened off by drapes. Do not expect giant fireballs, folks. Or destruction of any significant kind, since they needed their security deposit back. While Chen does her best, she is not Bruce Willis, as she goes from attendee to ass-kicker. And Bendza is certainly not Alan Rickman as the leader of the terrorists. It doesn’t help that there seems to be far too much acting in a second language going on here, particularly obvious when Chen has to use her English. Imagine Willis trying to speak Mandarin, and you’ll be in the right area.

She’s on stronger dramatic ground when speaking on the phone to her ex-boyfriend (Yang), who is her liaison on the outside, and tries unsuccessfully to convince the cops there’s a problem, and he’s not pranking them [As depicted here, Chinese police are, apparently really lazy: the investigation consists of calling up the location and asking if there’s a hostage situation. “No,” says the terrorist manning the switchboard, unsurprisingly] I also quite enjoyed Larkin as the acerbic Scottish organizer of the conference: he comes over as a low-rent version of Gerard Butler. He’s about the only person here who seems to be having fun with his role, embracing the necessary larger-than-life spirit. Otherwise, with fights that are merely okay, and take too long to show up, this feels like a poor imitation of little or no point – something even The Asylum might be a bit embarrassed to have their name on.

Dir: Ross W. Clarkson
Star: Lie-ri Chen, Luc Bendza, Byran Larkin, Yang Yang

The Empty Hands

  By

★★½
“Hands of fate”

The title is the English translation of “karate,” yet seems oddly appropriate for a film which barely clears the necessary quota of action to qualify for this site. I can’t say I felt my time was wasted, as such. Yet if you’re looking for a plethora of martial arts, you’ll be disappointed, despite the poster and a story which certainly could have gone in a much more action-oriented direction.

Mari Hirakawa (Tang) is the daughter of a Japanese karate teacher (Yasuaki): she had been taught by him while growing up, but quit the sport at age ten, after an incident at a competition, and now loathes it. When her father dies, she returns to claim the dojo as her inheritance, intending to turn it into apartments and become a landlord. Only, he bequeathed 51% of it to a former student, Chan Keung (To), who plans to keep running the place, helped by the late master’s faithful henchman, the aptly-named Mute Dog (Au). After much crossing of swords between Mari and Chan, he makes her an offer. Take up the sport again, enter a karate competition and simply survive – not even win – the opening match on her own two feet. He’ll then hand over his share to Mari, to do with it as she pleases.

It’s certainly a cliched plot, yet I’d have been fine with it, providing the end result contained a good volume of high-octane action sequences. That’s not the case: there’s really only one, the first-round contest. To the director’s credit, it’s not the point in his telling of the story. Chan’s offer, for example, doesn’t even turn up until after the half-way mark. He’s much more interested in a character study of a disaffected young woman, who is unhappy with her current situation, yet isn’t sure of what she wants from life. Mari isn’t even a very nice character, not least for her affair with a married man which ends up becoming more than slightly stalker-ish. Though Tang’s performance is good enough to keep her sympathetic, if not likeable, and I found myself rooting for her to find her direction.

The ending probably becomes semi-inevitable, after we learn that Mari’s recollection of past events is not necessarily an accurate reflection of what happened. Even there, however, the script manages to subvert expectations, and it turns out that her father was clearly considerably smarter than it seemed. There are some moments which perhaps make more sense to local viewers, such as elderly people doing keep-fit, to a jaunty Cantonese pop-song whose lyrics go – and I wrote them down, they were so bizarre – “If I do not love the motherland, the sun will explode!” On the whole, it’s not a film I would recommend to site visitors, unless they are also open to art-house drama and character studies, and the score above reflects that. On purely cinematic terms, you can certainly add a half-star, possibly a full one.

Dir: Chapman To
Star: Stephy Tang, Chapman To, Kurata Yasuaki, Stephen Au

Special Female Force

  By

★★★
“The Inspector Still Wears Skirts”

I’m not sure how much this is an official remake of The Inspector Wears Skirts, the 1988 franchise-launching action comedy which we covered earlier this month. It is certainly very close in both content and tone, but I’ve not seen a formal acknowledgement of this from anyone involved. While I’m obviously happy to see a reboot of one of the pioneers of the Hong Kong girls-with-guns genre, I just wish they hadn’t also rebooted the weaknesses as well as the strengths. In particular, they could have left all of the lame comedy in the eighties, and I’d have had no complaints at all.

It begins in decent style, with a group of female police officers laying a trap for a notorious terrorist known as “The President” at a pool in a hotel complex. Except, it goes badly wrong, with a number of the officers getting killed – quite brutally by action-comedy standards. 25 years later, the survivor, Madam Fong (Leung – yep, Black Cat herself is back on the scene – though she lets the next generation do the work here) is a trainer, who is about to take in the next class of candidates. We focus on Group D, which is where all the least-talented candidates are dumped, including Fa (Sam). Her mother, Macy, was one of the victims in that long-ago shootout, and Fa still bears a grudge against Fong for Mom’s death.

Before we get to anything approaching that, however, we have to trudge through the painfully predictable middle section of the film. Crank up those training montages, folks, as a series of the most obvious character tropes (the fat one, the busty one, the lesbian) learn the ropes and bond with each other. While you’re at it, also crank up the soap-opera complications, and naturally, the discovery that failing together as a team, is better than succeeding as individuals [welcome to post-colonial Hong Kong, folks…] For it’s not enough to stop Group D from getting booted out. But, wait! Turns out, this was just a ruse so that they could go into double secret undercover work, jet-setting off to Malaysia where The President – looking surprisingly youthful – has turned up.

He’s about to launch a scheme to spread a bioweapon across SE Asia, which will spread like lighting because it’s contagious before any symptoms are shown. Watching this while staying at home due to the coronavirus, I certainly went “Hmmm… There is a nice double twist here, which sets up a thoroughly explosive finale. This does a decent job of almost making you forget what you have trudged through over the course of the previous hour, as Fa inevitably gets the chance to redeem her mother. It’s all very slickly assembled, even if it seems aimed as much at providing fan service, with its heroines notably under-dressed for combat. That’s when not getting full-on moist, because the final battle takes place in a river. Which likely tells you all you need to know about the director’s motivations.

Dir: Wilson Chin
Star: Eliza Sam, Anita Chui, Cathryn Lee, Jade Leung

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