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Movie Review: All’s Well Ends Well 2012/八星抱喜
2012-02-06 9:01 / 发表
This was the other Chinese New Year film for 2012. It’s a quartet of (mostly) love stories, one of which barely (but not quite) escapes being a dramatization of the real-life romance of a famous filmmaker and a much much younger Asian woman.
Because it’s a New Year film, it is of course light on the heavyness and heavy on the silliness. But as I always say, it’s all right, because that’s how New Year films are supposed to be and so its not a surprise when they are.
The four love stories play out with all the drama, tension and style we’ve come to expect from Raymond Wong films.
I.e. none.
But as I said, he gets a holiday pass, so that this inane cluster of celluloid is nowhere near as grating or degrading (!) as Magic to Win/開心魔法.
Neither, thank God, is the segment in which Raymond stars with Yang Mi.
Who takes her makeup much too seriously.
Given their multi-generational age difference, it was both refreshing and relieving that theirs is a plationic relationship based on a kind of proxy parenthood: Bad father Raymond atones by helping his new friend choose a husband.
And again, I literally thanked God it didn’t turn out to be him.
Are you listening, Andy Lau?
This segment’s flirtation with creepiness was so prevalent that even an apparently harmless hug still seems… wrong:
She must want to be famous really, really badly.
The next pairing is Chapman To and Lynn Hung, who play a popular (if publicly anonymous) novelist and a blind girl.
Naturally, love would have to be blind for a woman to fall for Chapman To.
No, love would have to be in a coma.
Luckily for him, Lynn Hung’s character is blind, so she can only judge him by his intellect and caring.
See? That was even funny to them.
Speaking of intellect, there is a baffling conflation of blindness with mental incapacity.
Lynn’s character occasionally displays an absolute dearth of even the most cursory intelligence or reasoning skill, not to mention a rather odd capacity for putting herself into life-threatening situations.
Yes, blind people are apparently impulsive, clumsy, and retarded in the bargain, and no, I cannot explain or understand how or why they made that leap.
But following that logic, I can therefore say that scrīpt writer Chan Hing-ka is very likely blind.
The third story casts Louis Koo as a construction worker and Kelly Chen as a photographer. I enjoyed this story because Lam Suet played one of Louis’ colleagues and managed, as he usually does, to elevate the proceedings whenever he was on screen.
Lam Suet is so great this photo doesn’t even make me mad:
The story of the photographer who fools her subject into falling in love with her naturally develops into a story where lies become truth and love conquers all.
Well, not really. If you’re going to make a movie where love conquers all, you have to cast Lam Suet as the male lead. And a woman with a really strong stomach as the female lead.
This segment of All’s Well Ends Well 2012/八星抱喜 unfolds with humor, flirting, and a CGI snake.
愛不能說出它的名字.
It’s amusing to watch Louis Koo hamming it up in an afro. His comic chops have really improved in the last few years, and its always fun to watch movie stars take gentle (or not-so-gentle) stabs at themselves.
It’s also nice to see Kelly Chen back on the big screen. This movie is light and disposable, but then heavy drama was never really Kelly’s forte, was it? Still, it’s nice to see her up there.
Edison Chen joke (note object in background).
The fourth and final pairing is Donnie Yen and Sandra Ng, as a pair of over-the-hill never-weres who may or may not find love while searching for musical redemption.
Some of the things I really enjoyed about this segment were the vicious send-up of the Twins as well as TVB’s incestuous award system. It was nice to see the New Year film franchise rivalry get some teeth, and it made me giggle.
I was less amused, however, by a flashback scene wherein Donnie Yen donned (!) an Afro wig and… ugh, I hate to even say it… blackface.
This kind of thing is retrogressive, insensitive, and really, really needs to be retired.
As I’ve said before: If you want to get upset about Rosie O’Donnell’s insensitivity, it does you no good to continue doing it yourself.
It’s especially wrong because it sends up (albeit affectionately) the 1970s show Soul Train, whose founder, Don Cornelius, took his life earlier this week.
Obviously no one knew it would happen, but it still taints this film (and this industry and culture) indelibly.
It’s wrong, it’s ugly, it’s unnecessary and it’s not funny.
None of which, I am sure, matters a whit to the film’s makers or intended audience.
Reached earlier this week for comment, African American comedian Katt Williams had this to say:
Other than that, All’s Well Ends Well 2012/八星抱喜 is harmless New Year fun. It’s not the worst Raymond Wong film in the world (though that’s not really saying much).
I was glad to be able to see New Year films in cinemas in Hong Kong; its one of the (rare) rewards for literally devoting my life to the city whose films I admire(d).
It was, for that matter, a rare treat to see two good films in a row as well, as well as their being Hong Kong films.
It’s a rare treat that is likely to remain a once-a-year, holiday phenomenon, unfortunately.
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Malaysian Vacation: Day 7 and 8
2012-02-03 13:07 / 标准博客
Day 7 Lesson: Check Who Your Message Is Addressed To Before Pressing Send
Day 7 in Malaysia began, as usual, with a good hearty laugh. Ben picked Rafael and I up from the hotel, and as we got into his car, he handed me his phone, laughing.
I quickly realized why. Alvin Lee had intended to send his wife a message, but as often happens in our media-(over)saturated world, he sent it to someone else.
The actual recipient, being Ben, responded accordingly if not appropriately:
We laughed ourselves silly, and kept laughing all through brunch (that label is more a matter of timing than menu).
And the laughter was just beginning.
Trying to explain the leftover Vietnamese in my beard.
When we rolled up in front of the Northam to pick up Alvin, he was standing outside the hotel, with assorted tourists and employees, which was just what I’d hoped for.
Because I jumped out of the car, ran up the steps, hollered “BB, I really miss you!” in Cantonese and hugged him.
The Mainland tourists next to us quickly moved away, as if homosexuality is contagious.
Gee, you mean like SARS?
The rest of the day was spent in chronic irreverence, laughter, and discussion.
And calling Alvin ‘BB’ every f@#$ing chance we got.
Filling out an application for me to be a 2012 Mean Machines model. Note 50″ chest.
Alvin had a photo shoot set up for his car. It was in a parking garage in downtown Penang.
Luckily for us, one of the upper floors was essentially deserted, and so we pretty much had the run of the place.
There were security guards, but they seemed more interested in the cars than aggravated by them.
They even directed the occasion car around the area we were filming in.
I wanted to take a photo with the security guards, but was unsure of asking.
Maybe I’m overly educated, but I didn’t want to come off like a gweilo tourist who wants his picture taken with the brown-skinned Other.
Honestly, I wanted the picture because I was amused and appreciative of the guards’ rather, uh, diminutive stature.
What I mean is that on one hand, it struck me as odd to have such un-intimidating figures of authority.
But on the other hand, its kind of a nice thought to know that they obviously don’t need overgrown brawlers to keep the peace.
Turns out that corporeal fascination was mutual. Before I could even work up the courage to ask them for a photo, they asked me!
I also have to say as an American that it’s an interesting concept to spend a week in a country where a significant number of women wore veils and the world didn’t come to an end. I got your Islamophobia swinging.
Something tells me she is not someone to suffer fools gladly. I mean other than me…
“ Anda seorang keparat yang besar, anda tahu ini, ya?”
Later on we had dinner in a Chinese restaurant. I am sure Ben remembers where it is (he does live there, after all), but the food and the ambiance were great.
Sorry my photo is so crap.
I know you’re tired of hearing it, but the weather was exquisite.
Living in Hong Kong, you get used to being in air con 10 months out of the year, so it was a real treat to actually have fresh air and breeze while eating in an indoor restaurant.
Alvin took off for Kuala Lumpur, and Ben and I hung out until the early hours, since he was waiting to pick up a friend from work and bring her home. I got back to the hotel some time after midnight.
I was awake again by 5:30 or so, because I unfortunately had an horrifically early flight.
But Ben very, very kindly picked me up and drove me to the airport. I wouldn’t have blamed him for telling me to arrange my own transport, but I am very glad I didn’t have to.
Because that meant I got to go tear-assing around the streets of Penang a little more, and it was especially, uh, entertaining because at 6:00AM the streets are nearly deserted, allowing for rather exciting driving.
I was also glad because we got to eat breakfast. A number of Penang’s best and most popular eateries are near the airport, so Ben suggested we try them out.
Naturally, I agreed.
Joo Leong Café (179-H, Sungei Tiram, Bayan Lepas, 11900 Penang) was not yet open for business, so we drove to another place nearby that served noodles. Hopefully Ben can refresh my memory with the name and location, as well as the specific noodles we ate.
I think ours were literally the first two bowls of noodles served that day, and it was, as you may guess, great.
I ate the noodles, drank the soup, and would have licked the bowl if I thought I could get away with it.
Since we still had some time before we needed to go to the airport, and since it was there, we drove back to Joo Leong Café, which was now open for business.
Breakfast twice. And why not?
We ate some of Penang’s best toast and eggs:
It’s so good that words literally cannot describe it.
Sadly, after we ate it was time to leave. Ben brought me to the airport, and too soon I was on my way back to Hong Kong.
I had an incredible time in Penang, and the lion’s share of credit for that goes to Ben Lo.
I met a lot of great people, laughed myself silly for a week, ate incredible food, got to go drifting, saw hundreds of amazing cars, watched a gymkhana, and got my nipple tweaked by a car model.
I can’t wait to go back!!!
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CNY Movie Review: I Love Hong Kong 2012/2012我愛HK 喜上加囍
2012-02-01 13:19 / 发表
2012. It’s a new year, and that means one thing: Chinese New Year (CNY) movies! While some films are released around Chinese New Year, other films are literally made for the holiday. Most often, the traditional New Year films are very family-based, frivolous, and light hearted (at least by the conclusion of the film).They’re kind of like an old Christmas sweater that someone in your family has worn at the holidays for about 30 years. It’s comfortable, nostalgia-inducing, a symbol of family and holiday, and you wouldn’t be caught dead in it any other time of the year.
New Year films are farcical in the most thorough and yet most endearing way. They’re supposed to be farcical, and given that license, they run screaming with it. They run with scissors.
New Year films don’t flirt with silliness and stupidity. They shower them with gifts, whisper fawning supplications in their ear and slip K-jai into their drinks, then bring them to Kowloon Tong for a sweaty 3-way. That is filmed.
And you know what? I’m okay with that. As frothed up as I often get over the perceived stupidity of films, it never bothers me during New Year because I know that New Year films are supposed to be stupid.
Really stupid.
I knew that The Great Magician/大魔術師 was released during the New Year holiday, but I didn’t know it was a New Year film. Had I known that, I would have enjoyed its descent into farce much more than I did.
In the last few years, there have come to be two New Year film franchises, I Love Hong Kong and All’s Well Ends Well, brought to us by TVB/Shaw Brothers and Raymond Wong respectively.
They use the same title every year, changing only the year.
Branding or laziness? Hard to tell sometimes.
But it doesn’t really matter.
I love CNY movies because they are guaranteed to be stupid and I don’t have to worry about it.
Kind of like Wong Jing movies.
I Love Hong Kong 2012/2012我愛HK 喜上加囍 does not disappoint in that department. But it’s okay, and it’s actually pretty fun.
For me, the best thing was to be able to see Stanley Fung Shui Fan and Siu Yam Yam on the big screen.
Siu Yam Yam tries to show Stanley Fung some of her other plastic surgery. Note his response.
Stanley is often in the series, but it is simply a nice thing to see him anyway.
The same goes for Anita Yuen, who was in the series previously though not in this installment.
Too often, older HK stars get sent packing, right around the time they actually become good actors!
The story revolves, as it usually does, around a family in crisis.
And Eric Tsang Chi Wai.
This photo makes me nervous.
There is romance, the testing of filial bonds, and lazy family members in afro wigs.
What, you thought I was joking?
Romance is in the air in I Love Hong Kong 2012/2012我愛HK 喜上加囍, and its as thick as winter smog.
6-Wing and Vivian Zhang are two people brought together by fate.
Well, by the scrīpt, actually.
He’s thinking about baseball. I would be too.
Will they find true love?
Is love truly blind?
She’d have to be, wouldn’t she?
Of course love is blind.
But even Ray Charles knew the difference between a $1 and $10 bill.
Love isn’t free.
Especially at 2:00AM in Mong Kok. From what I’ve read.
Love is blind, justice is blind, but finance has 20/20 vision.
6-Wing is broke. How will he ever manage to woo Vivian Zhang?
By living virtuously and taking a stand against property-owner hegemony!
Because that makes chicks hot.
Let’s face it; plausibility is not a necessary ingredient in CNY films. To that end:
Denise Ho Wan Si and Bosco Wong Chung Chak play the odd couple, since both of them appear to be playing for the other team.
“Of course I can wear white at the wedding, silly!”
I enjoyed this subplot, because even though it is a grudging allowance for alternative lifestyles, it is still light years ahead of many contemporary depictions. It was also oddly refreshing to note the tacit acceptance of premarital sex between these two characters, another refreshing change.
Of course, my insipid fascination with tomboys in general and one of Hong Kong’s ‘flagship lesbians’ in particular certainly helped.
“I am jealous of Bosco Wong” is not a phrase I’ve ever thought I’d hear myself say.
Naturally (?), in true CNY spirit, these two misfits (???) manage to find a relationship space well within accepted Chinese expectations.
Hong Kongers accept gay people. As long as they get married and have children. That’s fair, right?
My favorite pleasant surprise in I Love Hong Kong 2012/2012我愛HK 喜上加囍 is the return of Natalie ‘Diesel’ Meng Yao, former Wong Jing ‘It Girl’ (read: bed partner).
If I say her presence looms over others in the film, it’s only because she’s so f@#$ing big:
這是一個大的母狗.
Like all good CNY films, I Love Hong Kong 2012/2012我愛HK 喜上加囍 is quick, silly, and essentially forgettable.
But it is also a quintessential part of Hong Kong Chinese New Year culture, and I sincerely enjoy seeing these films in the theatre with a local audience, who always seem to thoroughly (and verbally) enjoy themselves.
It’s something I look forward to every year and always one of the highlights of my CNY festivities.
Seeing Eric Tsang’s crotch thankfully is not.
It’s also the only time of the year that the Dynasty is more than 6% full. Money laundering is never easier than during Chinese New Year!!!
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HKG-SEC: Have Hardware, Will Ferrule
2012-01-31 12:05 / 博客新闻
Once I build the neck for this guitar, I will have to attach it to the body. Normally, the N4 uses a neck plate, although it’s not your standard neck plate.
They are curved and use 5 screws instead of 4.
I could buy one of these, but they’re about US$20 plus an extra, oh, %60 of that in shipping. Ouch.
I have a better idea.
Neck ferrules.
Because I already have them, so I don’t have to spend any money.
And I need to use up these parts that have been gathering dust.
So I started with the body I bought. Let’s take a look:
The holes are already drilled, which is good and bad. It’s good because I can be sure they are in the right places and I don’t have to go through a lot of measurement and layout.
It’s bad because it means I have to do a little extra work when drilling for the ferrules.
The most important thing with ferrules is to be sure that the ferrule’s countersink is centered on the screw hole.
That’s not a euphemism.
In other words, the ferrule is recessed into the guitar so its flush (or countersunk) while the smaller hole in the middle (for the screw) goes all the way through. Usually you drill the smaller hole, then the countersink without moving the guitar off the drill press.
But these already had the smaller hole drilled. What to do?
Easy, actually. Take a drill bit the same size as the hole and put it in the drill press.
Then put the guitar on the drill press, and position the guitar using the drill bit as a guide.
I put the drill bit into the first hole to line it up, then clamped the body to the table so it wouldn’t move. Then I replaced the drill bit with a Forstner bit to countersink the ferrule.
I set the height of the table (that the guitar is clamped to) so that the drill bit’s lowest point/deepest cut would make the ferrule sit flush/level with the wood.
You can see here that the ferrule is in place, centered and flush. So the process works.
Then I did that four more times.
A little sanding to smooth over the sharp edges was necessary, but it was easy enough to do.
Here we see the ferrules in place and some neck screws to give you an idea of what it will look like.
These are chrome, and the rest of the hardware is black, but A) it’s the back of the guitar, and B) I already had these and didn’t want to spend another US$15 just so that I could have matching hardware on a side of the guitar no one would see.
So that’s another small step towards completion of this latest project.
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Movie Review: The Viral Factor/逆戰
2012-01-25 14:15 / 发表
Strange that they’re not really pointing the pistols at each other.
The Viral Factor/逆戰 is the first ‘big’ Chinese film of 2012, and Dante Lam’s attempt to break into the Hollywood blockbuster league. Featuring locations such as Jordan and Malaysia, it is certainly a geographically large film. The action, too, is often larger than life, with lots of vehicle chases, fights, shooting, explosions and other mayhem.
It’s the best thing The Viral Factor/逆戰 has going for it. It’s big, loud, and (almost) totally devoid of CGI. It’s convincing, realistic (to a point), and thoroughly enjoyable as big-spectacle cinema.
Nicolas Tse does most of his own stunt work, and he deserves a lot of credit for both raising the film’s believability (at least in that department) and for getting very obviously knocked around a lot.
Lucas picked out Daddy’s pajamas.
Andy On also does very well in his action scenes. All I ever ask of action scenes and stars is that they make me believe in them. Andy is convincing, and these days that’s a rare talent.
“閉嘴, 你布朗的鼻子.”
Jay Choud does all right with his scenes, but in comparison, he is a distant third behind Andy and Nicolas.
三, 對吧?
The biggest problem for me with The Viral Factor/逆戰 is that whenever the action stops, the movie stumbles and falls for two basic reasons.
First, the plot is so melodramatic and overloaded with pathos that it would be a hard sell no matter who did it.
The Viral Factor/逆戰 is the story of a policeman played by Jay Chou, who loses a scientist and his girlfriend on the same day after being betrayed by a colleague. The scientist is kidnapped and his girlfriend is murdered. Jay has a bullet lodged in his brain and has two weeks to live.
In that time, he must find the virus, seek revenge for his girlfriend, and locate his long-lost brother. All while suffering occasional debilitating headaches and, we are told, deteriorating mental and physical capabilities.
If he has time to cure cancer, that would be nice too.
That’s a lot to handle, but its not an impossibility.
Of course, it doesn’t help when the plot is never really given enough attention to foster its development. It is reduced to a convenient touchstone that tries to tie all the action set pieces together, and we are expected to suddenly care about people and situations that have been ritually ignored for the last 20 minutes.
Though it does give Nicolas lots of chances to do Award-Seeking Crying and Emoting.
“F@#$ Aaron Kwok!!! I am the Best (over) Actor!!!”
Andy On doesn’t fare much better in the dramatic portions of the film. While his action is convincing and he does a very good job projecting an air of malignant menace, he is often given some hefty and clumsy lines to speak.
I could tell a good portion of his English dialog was written by a non-native speaker, and Andy apparently wasn’t given the leeway to make them more natural-sounding.
His diction is not always perfect, and that means that some of these lines are unclear.
But I get the impression that no one around him has the language skills to know the difference. It is also odd that he wasn’t given a chance to fix it in ADR, since so much of the other dialog is obviously (and very poorly) dubbed.
“There’s no pleasing this @sshole!”
But it’s not necessarily Andy’s fault.
For a bit of perspective, let’s look at an example of how Hollywood deals with foreign languages in native productions.
The Cantonese in Martin Scorsese’s Departed is so glaringly awful that you would reasonably wonder how and why, in a US$90 million dollar remake of a Hong Kong film that was in Cantonese, directed by one of America’s best directors, such an appalling and easily remedied gaffe could be allowed:
Jesus eats a donut, I could speak better Cantonese than that.
In 2006.
Well, I’m pretty sure Dante Lam didn’t have Scorsese’s budget, and I’m damn sure he’s not Martin Scorsese.
So taking that into account, it becomes easier to see that Andy’s dialog isn’t perfect for the same reason Scorsese’s Cantonese dialog is crap: No one on the set could tell the difference, and probably no one really thought it was important enough to make it better.
If anyone put any thought into it, they would have made that character speak Mandarin anyway.
So you see what I mean.
It’s really a very small gripe, but it bugs me.
Let’s face it, that’s not a short list, is it?
The dialog issue is, by comparison, minuscule when compared to other things about the film that bothered me.
My biggest problem with The Viral Factor/逆戰 is the utter lack of logic and intelligence throughout the film.
Maybe I’m too educated, maybe I’m an asshole, or maybe I’m just too old. I really am starting to wonder why so many movies bother me so much strictly in terms of what I see as easily avoidable and grossly profound lapses in basic logic, reasoning and knowledge.
And The Viral Factor/逆戰 was full of them.
In the film’s opening action sequence, Jay Chou is part of a team protecting a scientist.
I feel safe, don’t you?
They are ambushed by a man wielding a rocket launcher who shoots the Humvee at the back of the convoy.
Thus allowing the other vehicles to keep moving. Away from him.
Why wouldn’t you shoot the vehicle in the front of the convoy, thus preventing their escape and trapping them in a kill zone?
It’s only the way everyone else in the (real) world does it.
But you wouldn’t know that unless you spent five minutes on the internet.
The film includes the mandatory ‘bullet-time’ shot of a pistol firing, with the round rotating ever-so-slowly out of the barrel, the slide moving backwards and the shell casing ejecting. The bullet and shell casing are CGI.
But in this instance, the shell casing is for a rifle.
What’s the difference? See the image below:
Pistol cartridge (L), rifle cartridge (R)
Now, I already knew there was a difference. But let’s suppose I didn’t know. How would I ever find out what shell casings for 9mm or .45 (the two most common pistol calibers) look like?
Gee, I don’t know, maybe spend FIVE GODD@MNED MINUTES ON THE INTERNET???
Or, if I was in Jordan on the film set, LOOK AT ONE OF THE SHELL CASINGS FROM THE BLANKS FIRED FROM THAT PISTOL, YOU F@#$%ING MORONS.
Am I overreacting? Or is this just a complete fail in professionalism?
Yeah, its a small detail. But it’s also a pretty standard, and some would say obvious detail.
Some might say its not the filmmakers’ job to get these details right.
It isn’t??? Then whose f@#$ing job is it?
Some might say its not important.
That’s true. To some people, apparently, not looking like a f@#$tard isn’t important.
My point is that yes, its a small detail.
So is making sure the color or model of the car a character is driving doesn’t change, for example.
It’s assumed to be so self-evident and obvious that you’d have to be a complete idiot to hose it up. It’s assumed you would get it right because its assumed you would not GET IT SO TOTALLY WRONG.
Good afternoon, thank you for calling Stupidity Visuals, how may I direct your call?
I refuse to accept that my standards are too high. If that were the issue, I’d be arguing that the casing was a .380 and the bullet was a .45.
I don’t care that no one in this movie reloads, either. That’s just an action standard. No one in John Woo movies reloaded. So yes, he too was unrealistic. But he was also visually stunning, so you didn’t notice as much (or care at all).
I refuse to concede that I’m being picayune (!) about wanting a pistol not to eject a rifle shell casing.
Is that too much to ask? Apparently, yes it is.
But wait, there’s (lots) more.
Jay Chou’s character has headaches because of the bullet lodged in his brain.
It’s supposed to be a pistol bullet, but hey, who f@#$ing knows?
These headaches seem to happen at extremely convenient, predictable times.
One of which I did in fact predict, because it seemed like the most convenient time for it. I had no sooner said “Headache time!” to my friend than Jay grimaced and began writhing in pain.
He’s always sitting around when they happen. If he’s busy, the bullet leaves him alone.
What a thoughtful bullet. But they say that mixed ammunition is smarter and more open.
His first headache happens when he is flying to Malaysia. Luckily for him, there is a doctor on board to help him.
She just happens to be a virologist, too. What luck!
She blithely walks into the cabin (because ever since 9/11 they keep the door open) and tells the pilot that the air pressure is too much for Jay, so could they go to a lower altitude?
Because Malaysian aiplanes fly with the f@#$ing windows open. Malaysia boleh!!!
“This is your captain speaking. We’re approaching some clouds, so please roll the windows up to keep the cabin dry. Thank you.”
Hey scrīptwriter (aka F@#$ Chop): Did you know that commercial airplanes have had SEALED CABINS since the 1940s? No? Look on the internet, f@#$wit.
Speaking of headaches, I got one after a flashback meant to induce empathy only induced aggravation. Liu Kai Chi and Nicolas Tse’s characters are forced to jump off of a building.
“It’s better than being in Speed Angels!”
A six story building, we are told.
They both survive by landing on construction debris.
Because that stuff’s so soft you could use it for toilet paper.
I might have tolerated it more if you hadn’t told me it was six stories in an attempt to impress me.
Instead, it just made me want to jump off a 12 story building.
As time is running out, Jay Chou must find Andy On in Kuala Lumpur, a city with one and a half million people in it and traffic so bad that people I know who drive there have to keep heart medication in the glove box.
How does Jay find him?
He looks around, and there, driving down the f@#$ing street, is Andy On.
What luck!
But that’s nothing compared to the great luck (and innate immortality) of Jay Chou’s character. At one point, he is standing virtually next to a truck filled with propane cylinders:
“Dude, is that Macy Gray?”
Those cylinders explode while Jay is still next to them (see arrow below for his position).
He gets up and walks away. F@#$ the concussion, the shrapnel, all of it. He doesn’t get so much as a headache.
Because he’s busy, see?
He’s got to track down the virus and the female scientist who has been kidnapped. She’s busy working on an antidote for the virus that Andy On is forcing her to make.
Andy warns her that she better not try to make a false antidote, because he has an image of what the antidote is supposed to look like and if hers doesn’t look the same he’ll know she’s lying.
Latest poster for The Virus Monologues.
No, I’m not kidding. That’s the image of the virus.
F@#$ a bunch of science, he’s got a photo!
The woman is hard at work on the antidote in a shipping container that also has all the bad guys in it.
Which ostensibly explains why Jay Chou throws a grenade into the container.
磕磕. 土地鯊魚.
Don’t worry, the virus is probably explosion proof, just like Jay Chou. The scientist is too. She is unscathed.
Doesn’t have a headache either, just like Jay Chou.
Naturally, I cannot say the same for myself. I really wanted to like and enjoy The Viral Factor/逆戰 . I just couldn’t.
I realize many of the above points may seem overly punitive or demanding, but are they really? When I watch an action movie, do I need to abandon every pretense of plausibility?
A good allegory here (I hope) is a video game. Like film action heroes, the protagonists in video games can take more damage than humanly possible. But they can (and do) die, forcing you to start over, or to work, or get emotionally involved.
If you enable God Mode, you not only become immortal, but all your emotional investment in the game vanishes, because it becomes just a landscape you wander through, immune to all and sundry. If you look up all the solutions and secrets of the game, discovering them is no longer a part of the experience.
Ideally for me, when I watch a movie in which, for instance, a man with a terminal head injury needs to locate a single person in a strange city of 1.5 million people, I think I’m supposed to wonder “Gee, how will he do that?”
And yes, call me a snob, but I want something more interesting than “He looks around. Once.”
That, to me, is the problem with films like The Viral Factor/逆戰. If the characters are constantly shown to not be at risk no matter how outrageous the situation, and never face any substantive challenges or problems, how can (or why should) I become emotionally invested in them in any way whatsoever? I don’t need to worry about them, because pretty soon I know they’re not in danger, much less going to get hurt, let alone die. And they’re bound to be virtually handed the solutions to all their problems.
There’s a reason they don’t make movies with superheroes playing regular, human cops. The movie wouldn’t be interesting because the superhero wouldn’t have any challenges.
It’s impossible for me to care about a story so blatantly (perhaps even pridefully) dumb. If you can’t be bothered to use anything more than pedantic convenience and ham-fisted narrative to drive your story, why should I care about it?
Why didn’t it occur to anyone in this film that it would have been very interesting, engaging, and intelligent for Jay Chou to have gotten one of his headaches when he could least afford it? I would have found that interesting, and I think other people would too.
I honestly can’t understand how the people that wrote this piece of junk either
A) never thought of it (because it is another action cliche, after all) or
B) consciously declined to do it.Instead of something interesting, we get the laziest, most crass (and downright insulting) ‘use’ of the idea possible.
So am I really asking too much?
Am I not allowed to have even the most cursory of expectations?
Is it fair of me to want to see a movie (made by grown ups who are ostensibly film professionals) that doesn’t play like it was written by a ten year old?
Don’t get me wrong, Dante Lam is free to make whatever movie he wants.
And I’m free to call it a moronic piece of sh*t.
Many people ask me why I don’t have, or try to get, a job reviewing films. It’s because if I did, I couldn’t write like this. I don’t manufacture or fake my anger. It’s all too (health-threateningly) real.
In an oddly philanthropic way, I firmly believe that when a movie is an irredeemable turd, someone has to use the words ‘irredeemable turd’ instead of ‘perhaps not his best work.’
Some critics might say they were disappointed and expected more. I’ll say don’t shit in my mouth and tell me its chocolate.
Saving face is one thing, but at some point the truth gets smothered and dies. Well, not on my watch.
I don’t mind suspending my disbelief, but I refuse to have my disbelief gang-raped by a bunch of mouth-breathing idiots who can’t be bothered applying even minimal research, thought, or logic to something they are supposedly professionals about. If that’s the case, then f@#$ you too.
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