Thought I’d go with a literal title this time … because it’s all about the metaphor. But did you guess what I’m going to ramble on about?
Yes, I’ve just watched The Green Hornet! (Thank you, MY and TX.)
(On a side note, why are there so few choices of movies in Singapore? Every cinema shows the same films! I’m not going to complain about how slow movies take to get to HK again — not when there are endless film festivals, one arthouse cinema and a film archive institute to keep things interesting.)
The good news is that The Green Hornet not as bad as Treasure Hunter (which I won’t even deign to link).
The bad news is that it tilts towards the Bad on the precariously balanced scales of Judd Apatow’s school of filmmaking, this time practised by Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg — take the film a bit too seriously and you’ll start to be offended by its meandering (arguably non-existent) plot and toys-for-boys tone. And it seems that Michel Gondry’s imprint on this style of storytelling is just to make its bumbling nature much more stylish than it would have been.
But the main reason why I was so excited over the film was Jay Chou, la. I’m still enjoying the mild thrill of seeing his name on the posters. I wondered whether it was his hands I saw when the darned coffee machine was first operated. I giggled at him managing to squeeze in his darned trademark whoop (and some warbling). I sat contented as 双截棍 (Nunchuks) blasted its way through the credits. Some of the English needs subtitling, but I’m honestly impressed that he actually leapt into the fray and took to speaking it at all. That takes guts. I haven’t been so impressed by him since … gah, his fifith album.
On the other hand, it was a pity that he didn’t have a more, shall we say, refined script than one of Rogen’s typically coarse offerings. And what I think was an attempt to recreate the magic of Pineapple Express‘s insanely-ridiculous-therefore-somehow-hilarious fight scene fell kinda flat. (By the way, people who are drowning do not thrash about.)
But back to the good news — unlike Treasure Hunter, it’s pretty easy to ignore how bad the bad is, and just let yourself be entertained. Just like that darned salmon sushi USB stick in the film (and real life) — its existence doesn’t seem to make much (or any) sense, but it does exist, so to heck with it, it is what it is, just marvel in its weirdness, but don’t go mistaking it for the real deal or you’ll get indigestion.
For dessert, I shall muse over my recollection of how Jay Chou once said he could never write a song like 双截棍 again, and what the implications are that this decade-old song was chosen for the credits, instead of either a revamped version or a completely new song by him.