I lost 104 minutes of my life. 104 minutes I’ll never get back – down the drain, in the toilet, lost forever to a vacuum of time. And I’m angry about it. Consider yourself lucky. I’m warning you about the life sucker that is BULLETPROOF MONK. I’m not even going to bother giving you a proper plot summary. Time is too precious for that. Some muddled mess about an ancient scroll, immortality, Buddhist monks, plots to rule the world, obligatory cat fights, Nazis, spoiled rich kids, and the passing on of the scroll to a new generation. Nuff said. It takes something truly horrendous to make me wax existential.

Some of you may actually enjoy the opening fight sequence – some stick-fighting nonsense on a bridge. I’ll admit, the view is breathtaking, but then the CGI starts to fly. As this is my first installment, I must warn you I’m notoriously old school, and this film exemplifies everything that is wrong with Hollywood’s usurping of Hong Kong cinema and the martial arts.

As you might expect, Hollywood’s lifted the most superficial elements of both disciplines, sucked all the beauty and finesse out of them, and regurgitated the remains for our consumption. Yeah, yeah, yeah, there are a whole lot of special effects, fighting, yada, yada, yada. But in the best Hong Kong films – or the best films in general, really – the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. One, the fights in many, though not all, of your better Hong Kong films are often performed by folks who can actually move. More on that later. Two, they’re placed in the context of Chinese culture. Now as a self-confessed Twinkie (yellow on the outside, white on the inside), I’m not gonna pretend to understand all the cultural meanings and subtleties I know I’m missing. But I do know they’re there. And I do know they provide a rich backdrop for those films – even in comedy. The fights are often just icing on the cake. In Bulletproof, they’re the centerpieces.

And pretty weak centerpieces, at that. I understand that trained martial artists often make so-so actors and that most actors only make so-so martial artists. But in BULLETPROOF, we don’t get to see a level of competency in either area. While Chow Yun-Fat is certainly likeable enough, he doesn’t have a whole lot to work with here. And as for the martial arts, forget it. I think the only time he looks truly in his element in this film is while he’s standing on top of a car brandishing a gun. Please, either leave out the martial arts or cast someone else. Am I the only person here who likes to see real people moving like real people can? The classics – your Jackie Chans and Bruce Lees – came from martial arts and/or dance backgrounds. Jet Li was a wushu champ.

Why do we have to dress up all the incredible things he can do with fast editing and CGI? We are being robbed of the opportunity to appreciate what he’s really capable of. At this rate, I’m going to have to settle for watching ESPN.

Now, I’ll be the first person to admit Chow Yun-Fat is charismatic as hell, instantly likeable, and despite the pudge, still a good-looking guy. But he’s forced to share the spotlight with an unbearably annoying co-star. And if I see one more U.S. film whereby the wise and exotic Asian sage spews mysticism and bestows Yoda-like powers on obnoxious American juvenile delinquents, I really will drop out of society.

Are we so incredibly dull that Hollywood believes we’ll settle for this crap? Or does it have to do with selling this film to foreign markets? Perhaps I’ve been unfair picking on BULLETPROOF MONK as the example of all that’s wrong with Hollywood. Tough. It was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And if this is a sign of things to come, so am I.

Bulletproof Monk
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