Kung Fu Hustlin’ with Postmodern Pastiche
What do you get when you mix highly stylized Western and Gangster genres with kung fu (and Looney Tunes) in a pastiche fueled movie mayhem? Kung Fu Hustle (2004), directed by Stephen Chow, is a madcap tale of a young, misguided, wanna-be villain who goes on a journey to become a kung fu master. This film pulls from so many various influences, yet somehow comes together as a coherent vision, with fantastic action set pieces that highlight creativity and humor in their fighting style and choreography. Playing a double role on the film set, Chow also stars as the movie’s protagonist - and the film features several retired Hong Kong action stars as kung fu masters living a quiet life in a poor town that jump back into action when their community is threatened by the famous Axe Gang. Filled with humor, action, and over the top visual antics, Kung Fu Hustle is peak postmodern cinema.
In 1940s Shanghai, two petty crooks named Sing (Stephen Chow) and Bone aspire to join the ranks of the famous Axe Gang, led by the ruthless Brother Sum (Danny Chan Kwok-kwan). When Sing and Bone visit the residents of Pig Sty Alley, they unintentionally ignite a fight between the Axe Gang and the town's clandestine group of kung fu masters, but they are all bested by the slum’s Landlady (Yuen Qiu), who throws them all out of town. Sing is captured by the Axe Gang, but impresses them with his lockpicking abilities and is allowed to join the team. Furious at the residents of Pig Sty Alley, the gang returns to enact revenge, engaging the kung fu masters and the Landlady with her Landlord husband (Yuen Wah) in another stimulating (and musical) fight, but the Axe Gang is defeated once again. Sing is next asked to break a kung fu master assassin named Beast (Leung Siu-lung) out of a mental asylum so he can help the gang, and once free he immediately hunts down the Landlady and Landlord in a nearby casino. During the fight, Sing has a change of heart and attacks the Beast, who delivers him a crushing blow to the head. As the trio flees, the Beast turns on and kills Brother Sum. Sing’s injuries are magically healed and he has now blossomed into a true kung fu master; this is tested by the final epic battle between Sing and the Beast. Sing perfects the Buddhist Palm technique, which awes the Beast and he admits defeat. Sing retires to a simple life, with his childhood crush, opening a candy store.
With a (fairly) straight-forward plot that tracks the rise of the chosen one trope, Kung Fu Hustle’s unique mark comes from its mix of styles and references to other media content - namely it leans in deep to a postmodern aesthetic with a continual dash of pastiche thrown in. Postmodernism as an art movement is defined as a reaction to the formal purity (among other aspects) of modernism; it embraces the blurring of distinction between high and lowbrow art, specifically through a lens of popular culture, and takes delight in the combination and fragmentation of various styles and genres. Postmodernism is also interested in subverting established genre conventions, incorporating new perspectives (for example, often marginalized voices such as women and people of color) and twisting expectations of narrative, characterization, and visual style. It is also known for the use of pastiche - a reference or homage to another artist’s work, which is then re-contextualized to create new meaning.
Kung Fu Hustle drips with postmodern and pastiche elements in almost every frame. For example, it is impossible to assign one genre to this movie, as it mixes conventions from Gangster, Western, Musicals, kung fu, and even elements of Saturday morning animated cartoon comedies. Just take the opening scene of the film, which combines multiple genres and a strong pastiche to a Michael Jackson music video. The film opens on a classic gangster scene, where a crime boss is being intimidated by the local cops, who arrested his wife for a misdemeanor. The 1940s setting, costumes, production design, and dialogue are all pulled from the classic Gangster genre, with the one exception of the crime boss wearing a western cowboy hat. They leave the police station, only to be confronted in the street by their rival the Axe Gang; the fight is very reminiscent of a final shootout confrontation in a Western, but the gangs are all dressed in suits and fedoras. Once Brother Sum takes down his rival, the film immediately jumps into a musical sequence, where the Axe Gang dance in the style of Michael Jackson’s Smooth Criminal video (which in itself is a homage to 1940s Gangster films). This dance sequence is interspersed with black and white photos of the various crime scenes and victims that Brother Sum and his Axe Gang have murdered.
Notably, the action in the street takes place in front of a cinema theater, as if the filmmakers are acknowledging their trick of pulling from many different cinematic elements to construct this opening sequence. All of these references occur within just the opening scene - and continue at this frenetic pace throughout the rest of the film.
One of the most prominent elements of this postmodern film is kung fu - evidenced by not only the film’s title, but also the martial arts action set pieces throughout the story. The film features several styles of fighting, including wire work in its more fantastical and creative sequences, bringing several Hong Kong action stars from the 1970s out of retirement to fight once again, and more grounded choreography featuring Chow as a true kung fu master. The film’s opening martial arts fight occurs in Pig Sty Alley, where three kung fu masters reveal themselves and their unique fighting styles / weapons of choice - specifically legs, rings, and staffs. The actors who portray these three fighters are a mix of martial artist stars from various decades of cinema. Coolie, the youngest master that uses his leg strength as a weapon, is played by Xing Yu - who began acting in the late nineties and is known for his authentic fighting style. The town’s Tailor, using iron rings from his shop to defend against the Axe Gang, is played by Chiu Chi-ling, who began his career in the 1970s and worked with top filmmakers like Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan. The last kung fu master to join the fray is the Baker, who specializes in using staffs for hand to hand combat, and is played by Dong Zhihua, an actor who started work in the mid-80s. These three kung fu stars shine with their physical abilities, even the two in more advanced age - but their very physical style of kicking, punching, hitting is juxtaposed by the ridiculousness of the volume of Axe Gang members that surround and outnumber them. For example, the Baker’s staff, although wielded with skill and confidence, is somehow able to magically destroy machine guns, breaking them apart in mid-air simply from one strike of his wooden staff. After the dust clears (and there is voluminous CGI dust that is blown up), the Axe Gang limps away, defeated by three generations of kung fu masters.
The second fight that occurs in Pig Sty Alley hurdles the physical nature of the first brawl and transforms into a metaphysical, lyrical, and creatively vicious duel. The battle begins with the surprising killing of the youngest kung fu master, signaling to the audience that this new villain is not to be trifled with; two men have set up a classical Chinese harp in the center of town, one whose outward strums generate an invisible flying sword that seeks out his victims with deadly accuracy. Wire work is incorporated into the fight, with the Baker doing his best to defend the Tailor from the storm of flying swords, but as the pace and volume of the music increases, he is ultimately beaten back. The battle takes an even more magical turn, as armored skeleton monsters emerge from the Harp, but here the Landlady reveals herself as a true kung fu master, using her powerful voice as an instrument of destruction. She commands the space, with her (cigarette-fueled) scream that vanquishes the dastardly skeletons. This is an incredibly creative fight sequence, taking a high concept idea and executing on screen with aplomb; the heightened magical world the filmmakers constructed (and the audience has accepted) means that they can bend rules of gravity and the human body to come up with very unique sequences.
The postmodern theme extends to the musical soundtrack of the film, which is a blending of high culture and lowbrow pop art to produce a hodgepodge of styles in the sonic soundscape. Raymond Wong crafts the film’s original score, which was recorded by the Hong Kong Chinese Orchestra, and it mixes alongside selections from both world classical (i.e. Sabre Dance by Aram Khachaturian) and Chinese traditional/folk music (Fisherman’s Song of the East China Sea). A peak example of pairing the high art of classical music with the low pop culture is the chase sequence; the Landlady has had enough of Sing’s shenanigans in her Pig Sty Alley town, so she proceeds to literally chase him out of town. Realizing his danger, Sing races away, his legs running so fast they become a comical circular blur, just like Wild E. Coyote chasing Roadrunner in the famous Looney Tunes cartoons. This ridiculous sequence is set to the Allegro Molto Vivace section from Zigeunerweisen, Op. 20, a classical piece written by Spanish composer Pablo de Sarasate in 1878. In postmodernism, all tiers of art are candidates to reference in creating a blended pastiche final product.
Stephen Chow, as the director, must navigate all of these tones, styles, and frenetic pacing that he is introducing into one film, a feat that he manages to pull off. Once the audience accepts the chaotic nature, we are along for the ride. A more difficult turn he navigates is for his character’s change of heart in the penultimate battle in the casino, where he decides to leave the Axe Gang and help the Landlady and Landlord of Pig Sty Alley; he is brutally beaten by the Beast for his efforts, but they all manage to escape and heal from their wounds. The Landlady surmises that the beating reset his qi’s flow, unleashing the boy’s true potential as a kung fu master - which comes to pass in the final battle where he performs the Buddhist Palm technique to bring the Beast into submission. Chow certainly inhabits both the petty criminal and the kung fu master sides of Sing convincingly, but the motivations behind his turn is less clear in both screenwriting and performance. Regardless, Chow’s talent shines on screen and his martial arts abilities are decent as well!
Overall, Kung Fu Hustle is an ambitious postmodern take on a kung fu film that blends high art homages with popular culture references. It shows equal reverence to martial arts film history as to Looney Tunes cartoons, blending a cacophony of styles into a really fun romp with incredibly creative action set pieces. The music is a standout element of the film, mixing a modern score with classical and traditional pieces, crafting a varied soundscape that elevates the visuals, especially the fight choreography. Stephen Chow’s achievement is an example of postmodern cinema at its best - using pastiche to craft a new endeavor that rises above simply referencing the past - but hustling towards a new creative vision.