During most martial arts movies, there’s at least one moment, one scene where I’m on the edge of my seat.  It could be an adrenaline-pumping fight, a jawdropping stunt, some brilliant cinematography, or outrageous humor… something that just reminds me again of why I love this genre of film so much.  And then along comes something like Fist Power, which just shoots that notion in the head.  Not once do I recall leaving the prone position I had assumed on the couch when this movie started.  Maybe I fell asleep and missed some crucial element that could explain everything else I saw, but methinks that’s giving this piece of crap a bit too much credit.

Now, I’m assuming Fist Power is supposed to be some sort of thriller, or at least that’s how it starts.  Anthony Wong (Hard Boiled) plays Chau, a retired army officer whose stepson is being taken back by his opportunistic ex-wife and the child’s real father.  They hope the child will boost their chances at getting a billion-dollar inheritance.  In other words, they’re the bad guys.  When official channels don’t do him any good, he does what any desperate parent would do… he takes over his son’s school and holds it hostage, demanding the return of his son or it’s curtains.

Determined to stop him is Cheuk (Zhao), whose nephew is a student at the school.  Accompanied by a nosy tabloid reporter and Chau’s brother-in-law, Cheuk races to retrieve the tyke.  Of course, the kid’s father is a bit of a nogoodnik, and puts all sorts of obstacles and traps in his path.  Essentially, this translates to one inane, awkward fight sequence after another.  Thankfully, Cheuk just so happens to be the top security advisor in the country; something made painfully obvious when he’s able to defeat a whole skyscraper teeming with security guards in 10 minutes.

Now, the reason I assume that Fist Power was supposed to be a thriller is that it certainly goes out of its way to be anything but.  Somewhere along the way, I think they lost the script, and just decided to wing it.  That’s the only thing that might explain what ended up on that DVD.

Humor is often a mixed bag in martial arts movies, but here is just downright dumb.  If we don’t see Cheuk’s reactions to sitting down too hard on a bicycle seat, there are the cartoonish actions of Chau’s brother-in-law, and the various hijinks of Cheuk’s own family.  For example, that nosy reporter mentioned earlier just so happens to be a girl that Cheuk’s family is trying to set him up with.  Let the hilarity ensue!  And if that’s not enough, it turns out his family is a bunch of martial arts masters… something that comes in surprisingly handy in the film’s final minutes (please note the sarcasm there).

And what’s with the cute little kids?!?  Personally, I’m this close to proposing a ban on all cute little kids in kung fu movies.  They’re never cute, and all they ever seem to do is get into trouble, fall into disturbing situations (I don’t know what’s with the scene involving hiding the kid under the woman’s dress), or they cry.  The only exception to this is Miu Tse, who played Jet Li’s son in New Legend Of Shaolin and My Father Is A Hero, but even that’s pushing it.

And while I’m on a rampage, can I just go off on the inane moral lessons that seem dished out with every fight scene.  I call them “inane” because the movie obviously doesn’t take them seriously.  One minute, Zhao is lecturing security guards on the problems of violence, the next he’s electrocuting people.  If the movie’s so “anti-violent”, than I don’t understand why gangsters bashing the brother-in-law’s head in with aluminum bats or the reporter cold-cocking someone is played for cheap laughs.  And that’s not all… this movie’s got opinions on the news media, Hong Kong bureaucracies, and class warfare!  Just don’t expect any of them to be worth taking seriously.

Finally, there are the performances.  Only one is noteworthy, that of Anthony Wong.  His understated performance feels woefully out of place (probably because it actually has depth and nuance) when compared to everyone else.  As the other “star” of the movie, Zhao has nothing going for him, charisma-wise.  He looks like that guy who always plays “Fight Extra #3” suddenly given a starring role.  His wushu skills seem formidable, but I really couldn’t tell since crappy editing and choreography resulted in fight scenes that looked like nothing more than a bunch of jump cuts and flying props.

Fist Power.  What a horrible name for this movie.  That implies something hard-hitting, something with some “oomph” behind it.  This movie, whatever it’s real title should be, falls flat in every single way.  I could go on and on about how crappy this movie is, but I’d end up repeating myself.  Stay far away from this one, even if you’re looking for something “so bad it’s good”.  It won’t even meet those high standards.

They say never judge a book by its cover, but let’s add movies to that old cliché, too.  A movie cover that entails a dusty photograph of evil-looking horsemen and the title South Of Heaven, West Of Hell should prove to be a timeless classic in the western genre.  However, that’s where I made my first mistake.  Ok, so it was the name Paul Reubens and a picture of him as a cowboy that struck me first as I glanced at the cover, but the title gave the impression that all hell would break loose when I slipped the VHS into the player.  The names Billy Bob Thornton, Vincent Vaughn, and Dwight Yoakam brought even more wideness to my eyes, and I knew right then that I must watch this movie.  That was my next mistake.

Another mistake was to assume that the soundtrack would be somewhat similar to the typical southwestern flair ever present on Yoakam’s albums. There was only one instance where I found the music to be remotely appropriate for the movie.  The music was as out of place as the Caribbean sounds heard on True Romance.  The closing credits - occurring after a very sub-par shootout - were actually set to a torn up, jazzy tune.  What happened to hard-ass songs like “Buenos Noches” from “A Lonely Room” or the old classic guitarwork of spaghetti westerns?  But at least the music was not as bad as Yoakam’s directing.

Let me say one thing first.  I am a fan of Dwight Yoakam’s music and admire him for becoming a director and shooting a western.  He’s even a pretty decent actor.  However, his sole purpose for creating this movie must have only been to make out with gorgeous women.  Let’s face it; Yoakam isn’t going to give Brad Pitt a run for his money as the sexiest man of the year, but when you’re starring in your own movie, you’re going get lucky. I as a consumer do not want to watch Yoakam make out with Bridget Fonda in a hot air balloon next to her deaf sister.  Nor do I want to watch him sensually stick his finger into a cherry pie some floozy baked for him.  I have my limits.

If I had to sum up the movie in one sentence, I would describe it as a “PBS western directed by Quentin Tarantino as a soap opera”.  It was as dry as the desert they shot it in and slathered with dull dialogue that really had no impact on the movie.  It would have been more enjoyable if Dwight had picked up a guitar and sang as in some 60’s Elvis flick. The movie was definitely gruesome and never short of the f-bomb, but there was nothing offending about the pathetic fight scenes.  The shootouts were no more realistic than a reenactment I watched last spring in an Arizona ghost town.

The movie did have its moments, if you’re one of those that enjoys watching the occasional Faces Of Death flick.  Maybe it was the man who stepped in a month-old “shithole” or the scene where a cowboy has one of his testicles removed and dropped in a bucket.  No wait, it was the guy “getting his nut off” in the jail cell… or was it Pee Wee Herman trying to rape Sheriff Yoakam’s lady?  I can’t remember which was the most repulsive, but they all set off my gag reflex.  The scenes were definitely original and disgustingly comical, but the energy used to create them should have been saved for shootouts, or just about anything else.  At least give me something to savor other than blood discharging from a man’s crotch.

Written by Nolan Shigley.

You know, it’s almost unfair to compare The Princess And The Warrior to Run Lola Run.  Unfair, but unavoidable.  Both films deal with questions of fate and destiny, how different lives become entangled and affect eachother.  Run Lola Run wrapped up such weighty discussions in the appearance of a music video, with eye-popping visuals, a narrative that literally twisted time, and a pounding techno score.  Of the two, Run Lola Run was the more visually-arresting and “viewer friendly” of the two.  And after having watched The Princess And The Warrior, I’d say it’s the better.

One criticism levelled against Run Lola Run was that it was too much like a music video, that the weighty themes got swallowed up in the dazzling visuals.  Personally, I never felt that way; I felt the visuals and the other “gimmicks” (non-linear narrative, etc.) were what allowed the movie to look at its themes more fully.  On the other hand, The Princess And The Warrior almost feels like Tykwer’s response to that criticism.  It’s a far slower and a more, for lack of better terms, “dramatic” and “mature” film.  There are no flashy effects, no non-linear narrative, and certainly no techno beats.  Instead, you get attempts at more fleshed-out characters, deeper dialog, and a subtler storyline.

Sissi (Potente) is a gentle, kindhearted girl who works and lives at a mental hospital.  Her life is nothing special, but she’s quite content with it.  While out one day, she’s hit by a truck.  On death’s door, her life is saved by a mysterious man.  Sissi believes that somehow, her life is now intertwined with his.  Unable to believe that mere chance brought them together, she’s determined to find out how he fits into her life.

When she finds her mystery man, she doesn’t quite find what she expects.  Instead, she finds Bobo, an angry, embittered ex-soldier wracked with guilt over his wife’s death.  At first, he wants nothing to do with Sissi, and tells her that their meeting had no meaning.  But soon, their lives come together again in a more serious way, when Sissi gets involved in Bobo’s robbery attempt.  In order to escape from the police, Sissi and Bobo hide out at the mental hospital, where they must decide just how their lives fit together.

While Run Lola Run focused more on its themes (fate, destiny, etc.), The Princess And The Warrior focuses more on the characters, and it shows.  Sissi, and especially Bobo, feel 10 times more real and fleshed out than anyone in Run Lola Run.  But Tykwer spends so much time developing the characters that he loses sight of the very themes he’s trying to explore.  Occasionally, Sissi will ask Bobo if it was fate or destiny that brought them together, but the movie remains fairly ambivalent.

Further adding to this ambivalence is the convoluted storyline.  Say what you will about Run Lola Run, but it was to the point.  The plot was pretty simple, but that was one of the movie’s strengths.  But in The Princess And The Warrior, the movie goes on several rabbit trails that detract from the film’s central plot.  There’s the mystery surrounding the death of Sissi’s mother, who also worked at the hospital.  And then there are the mental patients themselves; more often than not, they simply seem to exist for oddness’ sake, be it revelling in a sick obsession with Sissi, throwing tantrums, or exhibiting some wierd “sixth sense” about the world around them (which, of couse, comes in handy).

But the movie fails most when it comes to Bobo.  Of all of the characters, he’s the most interesting and well-concieved.  At heart, he’s a good person who has just suffered much in his life; as a result, he doesn’t believe in love anymore, nor does he believe he himself can be loved.  Benno Führmann gives a great performance, but Tykwer’s handling of Bobo’s grief, and his subsequent healing, feels lacking.  For a movie that wants to focus on subtle themes so much, watching a scene where Bobo (literally) confronts his past self and leaves him on the side of the road feels pretty heavy-handed.

Throughout much of the movie, there’s a great deal of tension.  Here’s where Tykwer does shine.  There’s always this uncertainty concerning Bobo and Sissi’s relationship.  Are they fated to be lovers, or were they really just two ships passing in the night?  But when their relationship does become as clear as it’s going to get, it doesn’t feel quite as earth-shattering or satisfying as it should.  After that, there’s just a painfully long denouement that feels increasingly unnecessary (especially Bobo’s confrontation with his personal demons).

Tykwer’s attempt is certainly admirable, but it lacks any of the punch or panache that fuelled Run Lola Run.  But surprisingly, it also lacks much of the depth that so many seem to feel Run Lola Run lacked.  While watching The Princess And The Warrior, there were many times where I was just waiting for some visual trick, some eye-dazzling visual to drive home a point.  But when all is said and done, The Princess And The Warrior doesn’t have much of a point to drive home.

If there’s one thing you can’t accuse Hong Kong movies of, it’s their lack of emotion.  One of the things that first attracted me to HK cinema was its passion, its unbridled appeal to emotion.  Be it a flamboyant display of martial arts, a ballet of gunfire, or a heartwrenching love story, it’s this flair for making excess artistic that is one of HK cinema’s greatest strengths.  But it can also be a big obstacle to newbies, not used to much of the genre’s lack of subtlety.  And then, there are those cases when the emotional approach falls on its face, as in Healing Hearts.

From the very start, the movie’s premise is an attack on the ol’ heartstrings.  Lawrence (Tony Leung) is a well-respected doctor, but the loss of his girlfriend in a traffic accident has left him a hollow person.  His colleague, Paul, is in love with a beautiful comatose woman, Jackie (Michelle Reis).  However, it’s Lawrence that brings Jackie out of her coma.  Before you know it, Jackie is staying with Lawrence until she can put her life back in order.  Unfortunately, Jackie suffers from a life-threatening disorder that manages to pop up at the worst times.

Personally, I would take it as a warning when the plot sounds like your average “E.R.” season finale.  But that just barely scratches the surface of this movie’s flaws.  Much of the plot seems built upon sheer convenience.  Lawrence just happens to be a heartbroken, yet brilliant surgeon.  Jackie just happens to come out of a coma when Lawrence prays for her.  Paul just happens to acquiesce when he realizes Jackie and Lawrence are growing closer together (no real romantic triangle here, folks, despite what you might read).  I’d let such a fortuitous setup go by if there was a payoff, but Healing Hearts offers none.  Well, it tries to offer a couple, but you’ll never see them.

There are times when it feels like writer/director Tang wants to inject some drama into his movie.  Unfortunately, he never followe through on any of them.  There’s a subplot about the reckless driver who killed Lawrence’s girlfriend.  He turns up every so often, Lawrence promises to track him down, and the movie’s pace goes up a notch.  But by the next scene, all is forgotten.  And evidently, Lawrence isn’t as brilliant a surgeon as everyone thinks he is. The relatives of a patient who died in his care promise to get even, but after a tense scene, they’re never seen again.  There’s also a sidestory surrounding a shootout in the film’s opening moments, and some legal repercussions surrounding the hospital’s actions, but the characters involved just seem to come and go at Tang’s whim.

And the romance… for a “romantic drama”, there’s very little romance or drama.  One minute, the two are arguing over how to buy groceries and the next, they’re making out on the couch (there’s that convenience again).  You do see some scenes of the two eating and walking together.  But most of the couple’s interaction centers around Jackie messing up Lawrence’s structure, albeit empty life.  Here, it feels like Tang is trying to pull off his own Chungking Express, in which Leung plays another heartbroken man whose life is thrown into chaos by a cute, perky girl.  Tang even tries his hand at Chungking Express‘s visual style for a scene, but never again.

As for the acting, Tony Leung is completely wasted here.  For the most of the movie, he looks completely bored, and it’s easy to see why.  Leung is one of the best actors in Asia; as In The Mood For Love showed, he’s able to pull off incredibly deep, nuanced performances.  But this movie never requires anything of the sort.  And none of the other cast members really do anything spectacular (aside from Reis being cute and meddling).

Tang just has so many ideas that he doesn’t know what to do with them all.  The movie takes steps down many paths, from one subplot to the next, but none of them are ever developed.  They’re mere oddities, meant to pique your curiosity.  Meanwhile, the drama of the central story is completely lost.  Apparently, this was Tang’s first directing and writing job, and it shows.  It’s amateurish, sloppy, and never really involving, despite its attempts to make you reach for the tissues.  By the time the movie ends on its “heartwrenching” note, you’ll probably be too bored or too annoyed to really care if everything worked out or not.