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“This movie isn’t very good,” said my evening’s companion.
“You’re right,” I agreed, “but I enjoyed it anyway.”
Bulletproof Monk was inspired by Brett Lewis’s
comic series. While the movie does have a medallion, Nazis,
a guy named Kar, and a bad girl who can kick some ass, it
also has far more humor than the source material. Thus is
the phrase “comic book” often a disservice to the content
inside. It also has the titular character, who wasn’t actually
even a player in the Flypaper Press series. And lastly, Bulletproof
Monk-the-movie, unlike the Asian-peopled comic, has white
folks in major roles. The movie’s Kar is the modestly talented
and perpetually goofy-looking Seann William Scott (American
Pie’s Stifler).
The movie begins promisingly in 1943 Tibet. At the Temple
of Sublime Truth, we find a young monk (Chow) engaged
in some balletic stick-fighting on a rope bridge swaying over
(of course) a chasm. After being bested and then saved from
a plunge to certain death, the Master Monk pronounces that
the young monk’s training is complete. He then takes the young
monk into the temple and conveys to him to a sacred scroll
and the abilities to protect it for the next 60 years. At
the end of this mystical laying on of hands, the Master has
aged greatly and Chow relinquishes his name to become the
official keeper of the scroll. Meanwhile, a cohort of Nazis
come trudging up the hill, in search of that selfsame scroll.
Was there no corner of the world safe from those Nazis?
The Nazis are here for the Scroll of the Ultimate, and they
have no particular qualms about gunning down every single
monk to get some answers as to its whereabouts. During a confrontation
with SS officer Struker (Roden), the new scrollbearer
is shot in the chest, and falls off a cliff. Cut to San Francisco,
2003.
There’s a very Raiders Of The Lost Ark/Last Crusade
vibe to the opening, especially after those damn Nazis show
up. Since the writers departed so widely from the original
story, this would definitely have been a validly entertaining
way to go. It is unfortunate that director Paul Hunter
was unable to sustain that vibe. The old-time serial atmosphere
fades in and out throughout the movie, tantalizing the audience
with what could have been.
Hunter heretofore directed commercials and music videos (e.g.,
Marilyn Manson’s “The Dope Show”), winning an Emmy
for the Nike Freestyle commercials. So while there’s no chance
of his making a misstep in terms of what’s hep, there’s every
chance—and, sadly, realization—of levels of hep way out of
calibration with the story at hand. Oh well. Playing Spot
the Pop Culture References is both fun and appropriate for
a movie like this.
The movie’s Kar is a pickpocket, working the platforms of
the San Francisco’s subway system, when he literally bumps
into Chow’s Monk With No Name, thus entwining their fates
for the next 80+ minutes. Both men are on the run—Kar from
the cops who have caught on to his thievery and the Monk from
a cadre of guys who dress like Agent Smith and are the myrmidons
of someone who wants that scroll very badly. In the course
of all this running, Kar meets some colorful subway tunnel
inhabitants (Mr. Funktastic, a character who speaks genuine
Cockney gibberish, is particularly fun), among them, Bad Girl
(King), the love interest. Naturally Kar smart-mouths
this crowd and before you know it, everybody was kung-fu fighting.
At his point, I had to ask myself, “It’s so old, it’s so
tired, and these fights aren’t even particularly well done;
how come I’m having such a good time?” And I shit you not,
this stuff is tired. Frankly Chow Yun-Fat should contractually
refuse to adopt the iconic two-gun pose, coattails swirling,
for the rest of his career. (And why is the Monk shooting—shooting?—anyway?)
Crazed, obsessive Nazi used as cinematic shorthand? Been there.
Twisted, deviant bitch-villainness? Done that. A smarty-pants
hotshot and an older, wiser mentor? Can you say Yoda? Nevertheless,
I was amused enough to hang in there to see Kar, the Monk,
and Bad Girl save the world (Could there have been any doubt?)
by keeping the scroll from falling into the wrong hands.
Why? Because the parts of this movie add up to some mild
fun. It’s not just that no actors gives an embarrassing performance.
The answer lies in the charm of the two leading men. Chow
Yun-Fat is as likeable a screen presence as there is, and
Scott has a certain ingratiating charm that is alluded to
as one of his character’s attributes. Their likeability and
their enjoyment go a long way toward making up for various
plot and editing sins. Nevertheless, this is not one to add
to your DVD collection. It is not for the hardcore Asian cinema
fan, nor is it likely to claim a large share of the mainstream
movie audience. Recommended for the mushy middle and for Chow
completists.
—Roxanne Bogucka
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