Synopsis: Mistaken
for a wanted criminal, poor scholar Ling Choi-sun (Leslie Cheung) is thrown into jail.
When his execution becomes imminent, he escapes with the assistance of his cellmate, who
slips some of his own writings and a metal talisman amongst Choi-sun’s possessions.
Outside the prison, Choi-sun finds a horse waiting and rides away. The animal’s
owner, a monk named Chi-chau (Jackie Cheung), follows him by burrowing underground.
Choi-sin shelters for the night in a deserted villa, wherein lie eight huge coffins.
Chi-chau appears, and also decides to stay the night. When a hideous creature emerges from
one of the coffins, Choi-Sun runs for his life. Out amongst the trees, a band of
weird-looking, white-clad figures appears. Chi-chau grabs Choi-sun and flies him up into a
tree, leaving him there while he battles the band with his magical powers. One of the
attackers collides with Choi-sun, and he discovers to his astonishment that the mysterious
figure is not only a beautiful woman, but that she is the image of his lost love, Siu-sin.
Meanwhile, Chi-chau has discovered that the figures in white are not evil spirits, but
human. Painting a mystical symbol on his palm, he freezes them. The woman then holds a
knife to Choi-sun’s throat, ordering Chi-chau to release her companions. At that
moment, a second woman picks up Choi-Sun’s belongings and, seeing the books and the
talisman given to him in jail, exclaims that he is Master Chu-kwok. The first woman
releases Choi-sun and introduces herself as Ching-fung (Joey Wong); her sister is Yuet-chi
(Michelle Li). Their father, Fu Tin-chau, is a former government minister, now under
sentence of death, and they and their companions are attempting his rescue. Chi-chau
releases the others from his spell. Hearing that they are in the presence of Master
Chu-kwok, the entire band bows before Choi-sun and announces that they are his disciples,
as Choi-sun tries in vain to convince them of his real identity. Still stunned by
Ching-fung’s appearance, Choi-sun tries to get her to admit being Siu-sin, showing
her Siu-sin’s portrait, and reading aloud the poem they wrote together. The others
take the poem to be code and interpret it as a clue to Fu Tin-chau’s whereabouts. By
a coincidence, their guess proves correct, reinforcing "Chu-kwok"’s
position. Ching-fung is smitten by Choi-sun. So too is Yuet-chi, who makes a snide
reference to Ching-fung’s fiancé. Meanwhile, Chi-chau senses evil spirits, and finds
a huge claw-mark in the ground, and a mangled dead body nearby. Consulting Choi-sun,
Chi-chau gives him his freezing power. However, Choi-sun accidentally freezes his
companion. While he is trying to work out how to reverse the spell, a huge, hideous
monster looms up behind Choi-sun, who runs away dragging the still-frozen Chi-chau. In the
nick of time, Choi-sun freezes the monster. Unable to free Chi-chau without freeing the
monster too, Choi-sun is helpless until his victims thaw. Chi-chau snatches Choi-sun from
the monster and flies him to safety. He then fights the creature, finally slicing it in
two. However, while Chi-chau manages to destroy the monster’s legs, the upper half of
its body gets away. He chases it by burrowing, but when he emerges he is almost run down
by horsemen. Chi-chau and the General fight until they recognise their mutual
misunderstanding. Impressed by his adversary, the General offers him a post working for
the Emperor. Chi-chau rejects the offer with contempt and storms off, not realising that
the General and his men are escorting Ching-fung and Yuet-chi’s father to his
execution.
Comments: Good:
adj 1. morally excellent; righteous; pious. 2.
satisfactory in quality, quantity, or degree; excellent.
Satisfactory in quality, quantity,
or degree…. Ahhh….
It’s been so many weeks since I reviewed
a good film that I’d damn near forgotten what one looked like. But as I sat
watching A Chinese Ghost Story II, all these strange emotions swept over me….
I’d saved it for last in my sequels binge, feeling the need for something that could
wash the taste of Friday The 13th Part 3 and King Kong Lives from
my mouth; and it did the job nicely. That said, the film is a letdown when compared to its
predecessor. A Chinese Ghost Story is such a frantic mixture of ghosts, demons,
swordplay, martial arts, comedy and genuinely touching love scenes that any sequel would
have been hard pressed to match it. This one doesn’t really try. In fact, almost the
first thing you notice about it is that there are, in fact, no ghosts anywhere in the
film. Instead, most of its incidents are thoroughly corporeal, with only a large - though
strangely uninteresting - monster and a much more satisfactory shape-shifting demon to
liven up proceedings. (In fairness, I have a suspicion that no ghosts were actually
promised by the Chinese title, but only by the English translation.) Genuine scare scenes
are almost entirely lacking; while the air of poignancy generated in the first film by the
doomed love affair between human and ghost is likewise absent. In their place, we have a
distinct increase in the number of comedy scenes, many of which, for better or worse, are
pure slapstick. Also considerably increased is the number of characters upon whom the
story focuses. While each of them is, in his or her own right, quite interesting, we have
nothing here to match the intensity of the first film’s romantic relationship, nor
the tension generated by the bringing together of the couple and the misanthropic,
ghost-hunting swordsman, Yim. Although all of these factors make A Chinese Ghost Story
II less of an experience than its forerunner, it must be pointed out that this
film is intended very differently. A Chinese Ghost Story exists primarily to make
its audience go "WOW!" – and it succeeds magnificently. This sequel, on the
other hand, could almost be classified as political. Scattered throughout are
bitter criticisms of a government that is unable or unwilling to understand the people it
is governing; of the damage caused by corruption; of widespread abuses of power. While the
film is, of course, set in "the past", it is impossible to believe that the
film-makers’ criticisms were not aimed directly at the Chinese government of the
time. Indeed, so blunt are many of the attacks made that it is surprising they got away
with it; and perhaps the film’s sharp increase in the number of outright comedy
sequences was a way of deflecting attention from just what it had to say.
A Chinese Ghost Story II
opens with a couple of macabre scenes that prove, as far as the film’s overall tone
is concerned, fairly misleading. Wandering back into town after his ghostly adventures,
one time tax collector Lam Choi-sun partakes of a meal that proves to have been prepared
from his own horse – or perhaps (as we are given a glimpse of an arm-toting dog
straight out of Yojimbo) from something worse. Almost immediately,
the film’s main agenda kicks in, as Choi-sun is thrown into prison on the flimsiest
of pretexts. There he meets another victim of the system, Chu-kwok, who blames all his
problems on his parents’ insistence that he become "a scholar". Attempting
to make a living with his writing, Chu-kwok found everything he did construed as
"subversive": his books on travel, history, strategy and myth were interpreted
as revealing secrets, promoting dissent, inciting revolt and encouraging superstition,
respectively. Finally turning to biography, Chu-kwok discovered that he had again chosen
the wrong subject when he – and his subject – were condemned to life
imprisonment. Choi-sun soon learns that the prison is a place of arbitrary execution; one
where, if the son of "an official" is condemned to death, a handy substitute is
found. Discovering that this fate awaits Choi-sun, Chu-kwok reveals an escape route from
the prison; one which he uses to get his writings published, but does not otherwise feel
inclined to exploit. Chu-kwok sends his young friend on his way with some copies of his
books and a talismanic device on which his own name is engraved – objects which will
set in motion the film’s central comedy of misunderstanding.
Outside the prison, Choi-sun finds a horse
waiting and rides off on it, not realising it belongs to Chi-chau, a monk with magical
powers who wanders the countryside literally sniffing out ghosts and demons. Chi-chau
pursues via the Bugs Bunny-like method of burrowing just below the surface of the earth.
The two men meet up in the inevitable haunted villa, and after briefly mistaking one
another for ghosts, settle in for the night. It is not long before the villa’s
original occupant, a huge, slimy demon, makes its presence felt, and Choi-sun flees for
his life, only to end up in the hands of the white-clad warriors, one of whom is the image
of his lost love, Siu-sin. A Chinese Ghost Story II tries, like its predecessor, to
build itself upon a love story, but generally fails, chiefly because while some of its
characters do, pretty much of necessity, "fall in love", none of them seems to
care very much who they are "in love" with. Thus, Ching-fung falls for Choi-sun
primarily because she believes him to be "the master", Chu-kwok; while Choi-sun
responds because he thinks Ching-fung is the reincarnation of Siu-sin. Simultaneously,
Yuet-chi also falls for "Chu-kwok" but then, accepting that he prefers her
sister, instantly transfers her allegiance to Chi-chau. This careless pairing and
re-pairing seriously diminishes the film’s emotional impact.
More successful is the introduced subplot of
Fu Tin-chau, a government minister arrested and scheduled for execution chiefly, we infer,
because he is an honest politician. Unable to convince the band of warriors that he is not
Chu-kwok ("Only the true Messiah denies his divinity!"), Choi-sun throws his lot
in with them. Meanwhile, Chi-chau has discovered an ominous – and very large –
footprint, and a mangled dead body. Believing, like the others, that Choi-sun is the font
of all wisdom and enlightenment, Chi-chau consults him, and bestows upon him one of his
magical powers, the ability to freeze via a symbol painted in the palm of the hand. This
leads to one of the film’s comedic highlights, an extended slapstick sequence that
follows Choi-sun’s accidental freezing of Chi-chau just as the demon shows itself.
Entertaining as this is, it again highlights a flaw in the film. The demons and monsters
in A Chinese Ghost Story were genuinely scary and threatening; you felt that the
characters were truly in danger from them. This creature, however, never seems much of a
menace. In fact, the worst thing it does is to steal Joey Wong’s clothing while
she’s in the bath – and I can’t imagine there would be too many people out
there willing to blame it for that. (A re-working of the original story’s
"bath scene", this sequence culminates in one of the film’s funniest
moments. Ching-fung reclaims her clothes, not realising that they are somewhat revealingly
torn. In order to shield her from the others’ sight, Choi-sun makes a
"stirring" speech, announcing that for their cause to succeed, they must
"throw out their chests and have no fear" – and throws his robes wide open
as he speaks. The other men copy Choi-sun enthusiastically. Yuet-chi, on the other hand,
looks extremely reluctant.) Chi-chau is eventually released from the spell and
battles the demon, cleaving it in half at the waist. Its legs are destroyed, but the top
half of its body manages to escape (!), and causes various amounts of mischief until
eventually disposed of. Chi-chau does pursue this demi-demon, again burrowing beneath the
ground, but emerges in the middle of a road and is almost run over by a troop of imperial
soldiers. They are led by General Fu, who is – thematically at least – the
film’s pivotal character: an honest man in the service of a corrupt administration.
The General and Chi-chau fight until recognising that they are at cross-purposes.
Impressed with his adversary, the General offers him a position in the service of the
Emperor, an offer Chi-chau rejects with scorn. He storms off, not realising that the
General’s convoy is transporting Fu Tin-chau to his execution. Chi-chau’s
reaction to the suggestion of government service, and the discomfort displayed by the
General in his dealings with Fu Tin-chau, add further shadings to our concept of the
government as the source of all evil.
As per Choi-sun’s accidental prediction,
the General and his men show up at the villa, just as Ching-fung’s rebels are losing
their battle with what remains of its inhabiting demon. A most welcome swordfight ensues
between the two bands, resulting in the rescue of Fu Tin-chau. The General himself is
suckered into fighting the demon ("Huh! A fake ghost! Take off that mask!") and
eventually dismembers it – which makes it more dangerous than it was when
"alive". It takes Chi-chau’s magic finally to destroy the creature, but not
before its bodily fluids have poisoned Ching-fung (allowing Joey Wong to do her best Linda
Blair impersonation). Chi-chau concludes that in order to be cured, Ching-fung requires an
input of "yang energy" - and he orders Choi-sun to kiss her back to normality.
He does so, and briefly the film recaptures the heated romanticism of its predecessor. The
General, recognising the purity of the rebels’ motives, promises that he will try to
help Fu Tin-chau. At that moment, a band of travelling monks comes nearby. The General
explains that the one in the golden robes is High Priest to the Emperor, and has enormous
influence with him. By this stage of the film, these words are sufficient to put the
viewer on guard; and indeed, the High Priest turns out to be the story’s true
villain: a demon of deadly powers who has taken human form. Sending the General (who is
still useful to it) away, the High Priest at first seems amenable to Fu Tin-chau’s
plea for "justice" – but his final response is to start a death chant,
which lures several members of the band of rebels to their deaths. Chi-chau, however,
recognises both the chant and that the High Priest is not what he seems. The monk attacks
with his magical powers, forcing the demon to change form. It transforms itself into a
huge golden Buddha, and momentarily halts its attacker by claiming to be the real
Buddha. (The demon will take on this form several times during the remainder of the film,
at length suggesting a Hong Kong version of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.) This disguise
does not fool Chi-chau for long, and he exerts all of his powers to allow his friends to
escape. Choi-sun and Ching-fung succeed in doing so, but Yuet-chi, Fu Tin-chau and
Chi-Chau himself are captured. Hearing the sounds of a fight, the General hurries back,
only to be confronted by the dumbfounding announcement that Fu Tin-chau has
"confessed" to his crimes. Bewildered and downcast, the honest soldier still
cannot bring himself to doubt the High Priest.
Meanwhile, Choi-sun and Ching-fung have
narrowly avoided death both at the hands of a band of murderous thieves and from drowning.
In between hairsbreadth escapes, Choi-sun manages to convince Ching-fung that he is not
Chu-kwok, and she him that she is not Siu-sin. It seems that this new-found knowledge of
one another will do the couple no good, however, when the thieves send a band of wolves to
attack them. (This leads to one of my favourite moments when, seeing no escape, Choi-sun
takes Ching-fung in his arms and says nobly, "Let me be on the outside, so the wolves
eat me first!" "You’re so good to me!" she responds in all
seriousness.) The pair’s flight through the woods has led them to a mysterious
building, which to his delight Choi-sun discovers to be the Lan Yuek Monastery – the
retreat of his old friend, Swordsman Yim. (While Yim’s appearance in the film reeks
of sequel contrivance, I can’t imagine that anyone watching will be at all sorry to
see the wonderful Wu Ma again.)
The film’s defining scene follows. The
High Priest retreats to a palace in the middle of nowhere, and we soon learn why: an
eclipse of the moon forces the demon to break out of its human shell and resume its real
form. Confused by the High Priest’s behaviour, the General follows him into the
palace. Inside is a huge auditorium, with government officials filling its seats. The
General begins to explain events to them but, getting no response, investigates further.
In the film’s most audacious stroke, we learn that every single government
official was a demon in disguise. They, too, have been forced into the open, leaving
only a bloody human shell behind. Finally understanding, the General shrieks in horror,
"Where have you put the officials’ souls?" He then decides to battle
the High Priest, but finds his body likewise discarded. Following a slime trail leading
from the human disguise, the General locates his captive friends, each encased in a red
silk cocoon. He frees them, and finds himself under attack from Fu Tin-chau, who accuses
him of treachery, and Chi-chau, furious at being dragged into "state affairs".
The General explains, and the reluctant Chi-chau agrees to join forces with him. The
partnership is doomed, however: first the High Priest’s minions attack, and then High
Priest himself, back in human form, recommences his death chant. The General, unable to
forgive himself for having been the dupe of evil, flies into battle, only to meet a
gruesome demise similar to that of The Black Knight in Monty Python And The Holy Grail
– only here it isn’t played for laughs. All seems lost until the sudden
appearance of Yim, whose superior powers put the High Priest to flight. Recognising that
this is only a temporary respite, Yim draws a magic protective circle about the band of
friends, asking them all to chant with him. Interestingly, although the film as a whole
has corrupt government as the target of its criticism, here it takes a swipe at religious
factionalism, too. When Chi-chau objects to the notion of chanting with, "I’m a
member of the Kun Lun Sect", Yim responds furiously, "Don’t talk of sects
at such a time! Let’s fight it together!"
And fight "it" together they must
– "it" being the demon in its true form, that of a gigantic centipede. This
spectacular battle climaxes with Yim and Chi-chau trapped, Jonah-like, in the belly of the
hideous creature; a situation where escaping proves to be as dangerous as staying put. For
a time A Chinese Ghost Story II seems to be heading, appropriately enough, for the
kind of bittersweet ending that made the first film so memorable and moving, but then
something horrible happens: we get a tacked on happy ending. And I don’t just mean
"tacked on" in a general sense; I mean Hollywood tacked on! Contrived and
unconvincing in the extreme, the final scenes leave the viewer with a distinct feeling of
disappointment; and probably thinking less kindly of the film than, on the whole, it
deserves.
Film reviewers are an illogical bunch, and
Lord knows, I’m no exception. After complaining incessantly about film sequels that
are nothing more than carbon-copies of the originals, here I get one that tries to do
something very different from its predecessor – and of course, I complain about that,
too. Ah, well…. A Chinese Ghost Story II is chock-full of good intentions.
Interestingly, not only is it stringently critical of corrupt government, it also points
the finger at the apathy of the people – an attitude, it is inferred, that has a lot
to do with evil forces seizing power in the first place. This argument becomes most
apparent once Yim re-enters the proceedings. He, like Chi-chau, isn’t interested in
"teaming up": he’ll fight, but only on his own terms. That such
individualistic behaviour cannot succeed in times of crisis, that good people must not
only be willing to take action, but to band together, is made abundantly clear over the
final third of the film, where most individualistic actions end in disaster. Still,
well-meaning as it is, this film simply never has the impact of the original. This is not
only true in visual terms, but on the level of character: the story tends to jump around
too much, never really deciding who it is truly about. This is perhaps best
illustrated by the sidelining of the original story’s two stars. Joey Wong makes
considerably less of an impression here, as much through her character’s
inconsistencies as through her corporeality; while Leslie Cheung’s Choi-sun is also a
much more peripheral character than in the original. It is the story’s three
warriors, spiritual and physical, to whom the film belongs. Jackie Cheung can often be an
annoying actor, but he’s good as Chi-chau, a role which allows him to be both funny
and heroic. Wu Ma is Wu Ma – enough said? As indicated, Yim’s presence
isn’t really necessary to the story, but it’s so good to have him back that it
hardly matters. The film’s acting honours, however, go to Waise Lee Chi-Hung as the
General. It is this upright man’s inner conflict, and his horrified discovery that
his attempts to act with honour have led to nothing but injustice and misery, that give
the film its deepest meaning. For the rest of it, A Chinese Ghost Story II shares
many of the original’s virtues: cinematography, production design and special effects
are all wonderfully memorable. It may be both less moving and less frightening than the
first film – and more comedic – but this is still a hugely entertaining film,
and another reminder of just how much fun Hong Kong cinema at its best can be.
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Director: Ching Siu Tung