I’ll admit this up front.
Jackie Chan’s The Legend of Drunken Master lacks the somber dignity of a Schindler’s
List, the emotional pull of Terms
of Endearment, and the resonance of Citizen
Kane. In other words, it’s not likely to have Chan racing to
the podium to pick up any Oscars next March (although I’m sure
that the stunt god’s theatrics would make Roberto Benigni look
absolutely catatonic by comparison, were the occasion ever to come
about). But this sensational showcase of martial arts genius
certainly deserves to win something.
After all, how many of the above critics’ favorites boasted any of
the following jaw-dropping kung fu moments: a.) two foes sparring
with spears beneath a train, twirling and jabbing their weapons in
the manner of manic baton-twirlers; b.) Chan’s lovable hero Wong
Fei Hung fending off an army of axe-wielding assailants, trapping
their hands inside a tube of split bamboo as they zero in on him
like persistent mosquitoes; c.) Wong’s durable backside skidding
over a vat of red-hot coals, like a kid diving onto a slip ‘n
slide in the summer heat; d.) Wong going "mano a mano"
with a furious-footed kick fighter (Ken Lo), whose lower extremities
twist, jerk, and thrust like Elvis after his fifteenth pot of
coffee. And I haven’t even mentioned the fire-breathing scene.
Jackie Chan’s recent film
releases have fallen into one of two categories: widely-publicized,
high visibility American releases like this year’s Touchstone
comedy Shanghai Noon, and
a back-catalogue of re-issued Hong Kong movies, such as 1997’s Operation
Condor (originally released as Armor
of God II during its 1990 Hong Kong premiere).
The U.S. productions have favored a tried ‘n true, urban
"buddy movie" formula: 1998’s Rush
Hour coupled Chan with motormouth comedian Chris Tucker, in what
might be described as Lethal Weapon Lite. Meanwhile,
the older movies, resurrected in the States by Dimension Films, have
superior action and stuntwork, but suffer from obvious dubbing and a
comparably low-budget feel. 1996’s
Rumble in the Bronx, for
instance, was shot in Canada, where the surrounding mountain vistas
put a serious damper on its attempts to recreate authentic, Big
Apple atmosphere.
Originally released in Hong Kong as
Drunken Master II in 1994, The
Legend of Drunken Master
is another vintage Chan flick that’s been culled from the
archives. However, this
gem leads head and shoulders above the rest, emerging as Chan’s
piece de resistance. Chan
is currently pushing fifty, and his notoriously dangerous,
"I’ll do it myself" approach to stunt work has mellowed
some in recent years. The
Legend of Drunken Master
was the pinnacle of his physically comedic approach to Kung Fu, with
Chan’s self-assured, graceful ballet of movement contrasting the
insanely hazardous perils he faced.
Unlike recent, unsatisfying actioners such as Mission: Impossible II, where the audience suffers through dreary,
expository passages waiting for the big action payoff, this
resurrected masterpiece is savvy enough to weave its many fight
scenes throughout the film. It
takes off like a gunshot, and builds up with the momentum of the
Millenium Falcon jumping to light speed.
The film opens as Chan’s well-meaning but trouble-finding hero Wong Fei Hung (based on an actual kung fu legend from 1920’s-era China) boards a train, intending to deliver a ginseng plant to his stern, herb salesman father (Ti Lung). However, when he accidentally misplaces the ginseng, exiting the train with a valuable Chinese artifact, Wong unveils an English Ambassador’s plan to smuggle priceless Chinese antiques out of the country.
There’s a funny bit involving
Wong’s attempts to pawn off the roots of a bonsai tree as the
missing ginseng herb, to one of his father’s unsuspecting
customers. Meanwhile,
Wong gets into a street skirmish with a bullying steel mill foreman,
in one of many prolonged, exhausting fights where Chan incorporates
a kung fu style known as "drunken boxing." According to
the rules of Drunken
Master’s eccentric universe, booze is to the kung fu master
what spinach is to Popeye. It’s not long before Wong’s mother
(Anita Mui) is tossing him booze from the sidelines and watching him
pound the attacker into mincemeat with each consecutive sip of this
alcoholic fuel.
Such "drunken boxing"
bouts are among the most elaborately staged spectacles ever filmed.
Chan sways to and fro like a jack-in-the-box sprung from its
holding box, staggering like a wino but punching at the speed of a
punk drummer thrashing his trapset.
Meanwhile, his charming, clownish humor is also evident, as
he projects a crooked, soused grin: at one point, Wong even resorts
to chugging gasoline, before burping up a cluster of bubbles and
exhaling flames like Gene Simmons of Kiss.
The
Legend of Drunken Master culminates in Wong’s linking of the
antique-smuggling operation to a steel factory. This latter setting
acts as the showcase for a truly eye-popping finale, as Chan fends
off pipe-wielding thugs, cauldrons of steaming coal, steel barrels
dropped from a rooftop, and every other combination of weapon,
assailant, and projectile within striking distance.
Review by Dimension Films · Nitrate Online
