The Eighth Happiness (八星報喜, Johnnie To, 1988)

A literal series of crossed wires provoke romantic intrigue for three eccentric brothers in Johnnie To’s smash hit Cinema City Lunar New Year comedy, The Eighth Happiness (八星報喜). As so often in To’s subsequent films, a random instance of fatalistic chance changes each of brothers’ lives though not perhaps permanently as the surprisingly ironic coda makes plain. Even so, their parallel quests for love of one kind or another perhaps tell us something about the changing Hong Kong society in the midst of rising economic prosperity and looming Handover anxiety. 

Seemingly without parents, the three Fong brothers live together in a well-appointed multi-level home owned by oldest sibling Fai (Raymond Wong Pak-ming) who hosts a daytime television program titled Mainly Housewives which includes a cookery/agony aunt segment in which he attempts to solve someone’s relationship problems through food. As in many of Raymond Wong’s other roles in Cinema City comedies, Fai is feminised throughout not only in acting as the “mother” of the family preparing all the meals at home but also in his single status and the focus of his television show which nevertheless intros him with the James Bond theme. 

Second brother Long (Chow Yun-fat), meanwhile, actively camps it up claiming that he pretends to be gay in order to get girls after lulling them into a false sense of security. Despite being engaged to air hostess Piu Hung (Carol Cheng Yu Ling), he has a side mission going to sleep with a woman from each of Hong Kong’s 19 districts and is a relentless Casanova striking up an affair with unexpectedly chaotic department store assistant “Beautiful” (Cherie Chung Chor-hung). Youngest brother Sang (Jacky Cheung Hok-yau), meanwhile, is a painfully shy aspiring cartoonist who becomes an accidental white knight to a young woman caught up in a bizarre flashing incident in the local park only to be mistaken for the culprit himself. 

Each of the brothers is offered a new romantic possibility because of a telephone malfunction caused by an elderly lady driver forgetting her glasses and ploughing through local works mangling the lines. Sang is reunited with Ying Ying (and her martial arts champion swordsman mother) after overhearing a suicide attempt but ending up at her apartment by mistake, thereafter finding himself facing a challenge of masculinity on discovering that she already has a very buff and macho boyfriend who in his own way also seems jealous and insecure. Meanwhile, Long overhears a conversation between Beautiful and a colleague at the store about their ideal men, entering into passive aggressive courtship while discovering that her boyfriend is fabulously wealthy (or, at least, his father is) leading to a standoff in which he ends up proving his masculinity by burning money he doesn’t really have, smashing his own cheapo watch to intimidate the other guy into destroying his diamond Rolex, and then trashing the car he borrowed from Fai to expose the fact the other guy isn’t really wealthy or man enough to do the same because at the end of the day it’s his father’s money and he’s not so rich that these very expensive status symbols mean little to him. 

Fai meanwhile has a much more normal romance which is disrupted, mostly, by his brothers’ chaos and then near destroyed rather than forged through a misdirected phone call. After Long trashes his car, he asks Sang for the number for a repair guy but instead gets through to Fong (Fung Bo Bo) whose musician husband has just walked out on her seconds before which is why she’s quite rude to him on the phone, slamming the receiver down the second time he rings. Annoyed on a personal level Fai asks Long to troll her by ringing up at 3am every night causing her to injure her ankle and later fall on stage during a Cantonese opera performance. Then he ends up meeting her by chance in real life when she ends up buying the last of his favourite biscuits at a local cafe, only to discover she’s his interview for that day’s show where she’s supposed to talk about her art but finds his face so funny she can’t stop laughing. Had it not been for business with the telephone harassment they might have had a conventional romance, but the further machinations of the chaotic brothers soon convince her that Fai is not a reliable life partner. 

To convince her he’s really a good guy, Fai undertakes a grand gesture making himself the focus of his culinary/agony item by cooking up the spiciest soup imaginable and drinking it on live TV to atone but such a meaningless feat does nothing for Fong who doubtless is over romantic stunts and looking for something more concrete. Long’s grand gesture, by contrast, fares much better as he chases Piu Hung to a fancy hotel and makes a scene from the other side of the glass before falling in the pool while trying desperately to save an engagement ring while suddenly on the back foot after she learns about his philandering. Fai is only able to redeem himself through artifice, he and Fong signing through their romantic drama while performing Cantonese opera surrounded by the brothers and their girls trying at least to support him in his own romantic endeavour which their chaos has largely undermined. 

It’s another cosmic irony therefore that whereas the chaos of the misdirected telephone calls earns both Sang and Long everything they wanted in both career and romantic success, Fai who generally does the right thing ultimately loses out through another chaotic development while even Beautiful apparently achieves her dreams. Despite his earlier protestations during get phone call that Hong Kong was beautiful and there was no need to leave, Song and Ying Ying decide to travel the world perhaps expressing a degree of anxiety in pre-Handover Hong Kong, while Long is left with internalised anxiety over his new role as husband and father, and Fai is back pretty much where he started. A typical Lunar New Year nonsense comedy, there’s no disputing that much of the humour in The Eighth Happiness is of its time, but there is something of To’s later obsessions with comic fate and romantic farce that transcends Raymond Wong & Philip Cheng’s Cinema City silliness. 


Trailer (no subtitles)

The Raid (財叔之橫掃千軍, Tsui Hark & Tony Ching Siu-Tung, 1991)

Comic book heroes often rise in resistance to a label others have placed on them, but Uncle Choy (Dean Shek Tin) may be the first to offer fierce opposition to societal ageism. Inspired by a series of comic books which ran from 1958 to the mid-1970s, Tsui Hark and Tony Ching Siu-Tung’s The Raid (財叔之橫掃千軍) is at great pains to make plain that you shouldn’t write people off because of a few numbers on an ID card as its admittedly geriatric hero proves that he’s the force for good the Resistance has been waiting for. 

That would be the Resistance towards the Japanese and the new puppet state of Manchuria in the confusing world of 1932. Tsui and Ching open with Pu Yi himself getting out of a limo in a sparkling white uniform adorned with meaningless medals glinting in the sun before he takes to the stage and bizarrely likens himself to Hitler while insisting that he’s here to unify China because his ancestors told him to in a dream. Meanwhile, the Resistance has already infiltrated his forces and installed dynamite in his microphone only for his right-hand man, Matsu (Tony Leung Ka-fai), to catch on right before it explodes. Pu Yi is saved, for now, while Matsu declares himself unfazed by the Resistance fighter’s dying words that he will be coming back to haunt him. 

In another part of the jungle, a team of mute locals is trying to bring a doctor to some soldiers hiding out in a remote shack. After narrowly escaping a plane attack by blowing a hole in a dam and drowning it with water, Uncle Choy arrives to discover that the men are victims of a new kind of poison gas. It’s too late to save the commander, but Choy manages to restore the others to health and even offers to join them in their new mission of destroying the poison gas factory, but Lieutenant Mong (Paul Chu) tells him to go home. He’s too old to be of help and would only get in the way. As expected, Choy finds that very upsetting. Unwrapping the giant sword he fought with in his youth, he leaves a note for his adopted daughter Nancy and heads off on his own towards the revolution, but she follows him with her giant spear and is then followed by a cheeky young guy armed with slingshot. 

There is something a little bit suggestive about this rag tag bag of patriots trying to stop the poisonous fumes of a new China wafting over towards the land they love. Pu Yi, the “last emperor” is something of a tragic figure, a bumbling fool with some weird ideas but also a noticeably progressive streak which sees him tell Matsu, in the middle of an otherwise silly and slightly homophobic joke, that he firmly believes love is love and he plans to make a law that says so. He is, however, just a puppet himself, caught between the villainous Matsu and beautiful actress/super spy Kim Pak-fai/Kawashima Yoshiko (Joyce Godenzi).

Matsu is fond of telling the heroes that they cannot win against a force with superior technology, that old Uncle Choy’s sword and fists are useless in a modern world of guns and chemical warfare. To perfect their poison gas, they’ve been working with a local gangster who cares only for money and has been willingly sending them test subjects. Big Nose (Corey Yuen Kwai) is currently engaged in a turf war with the equally greedy Bobo Bear (Jacky Cheung Hok-yau), testifying to the tendency of oppressed people to fight amongst themselves rather than unite against the true evil. Bobo Bear is also in love with the famous actress Kim Pak-fai and deeply regrets getting mixed up with the Resistance, but later falls for nerdy undercover spy Tina (Fennie Yuen), who is the real brains of the operation, and comes over to the side of right. As does Big Nose after getting a dressing down from Uncle Choy and being confronted with the consequences of his actions by an overconfident Matsu. 

According to Matsu whoever has the best weapon controls the world, but as in any good kung fu movie the best weapon is righteous solidarity. Uncle Choy’s sword turns out not to be so useless after all, while he also makes himself useful as a doctor to the revolutionaries, proving that old people still have a lot to offer and don’t deserve to be put out to pasture by patronising youngsters. Making plenty of space for cartoonish slapstick fun and a series of farcical episodes including the classic misdirected love letter and spy hiding under the bed, The Raid is pure pulp but never pretends to be anything more than it is even while leaving its earnest revolutionaries in media res as if to remind us that a battle still rages even in 1991.


Short clip (no subtitles)

Swordsman II (笑傲江湖之東方不敗, AKA The Legend of the Swordsman, Tony Ching Siu-tung, 1992)

Swordsman II still 1In a world filled with chaos, is the answer to all life’s problems retreat or attack? After the unexpected success of Swordsman which survived the withdrawal of legendary director King Hu to go on to be a box office hit, a sequel was quickly set in motion to be directed by action choreographer Tony Ching Siu-tung. Swordsman II (笑傲江湖之東方不敗) would be the second in a trilogy inspired by Louis Cha’s novel The Smiling, Proud Wanderer and largely dispenses with the cast of the original film for a virtual reboot led by action star Jet Li and actress Brigitte Lin as an extraordinarily sympathetic villain.

Picking up soon after the end of the first film, Ling (Jet Li) and his female comrade nicknamed “Kiddo” (Michelle Reis) are on the run with the intention of retiring from the world of martial arts to live simply among honest people. However, they are about to ride straight into the heart of conflict. At this particular point in history, the “Highlanders” feel themselves oppressed by the ruling “Mainlanders” and would be set on rebellion if they weren’t so busy fighting amongst themselves. Meanwhile, a number of Japanese troops are also holing up in China to wait out political strife in Japan. “Invincible” Dawn (Brigitte Lin), a Highlander, appears to have gotten a hand on the first film’s MacGuffin – the “Sacred Volume” which holds the key to untold martial arts power. Teaming up with the displaced Japanese, Dawn plans to use the powers of the Sacred Volume to dominate the Highlanders and then eventually take over the entire nation.

Dawn happens to be the uncle of a woman, Ying (Rosamund Kwan), with whom Ling began something like a romance back in the first film. Ying’s father, Wu (Lau Shun), the chief of Highlander tribe Sun Moon Sect, has gone missing – presumed taken prisoner by Dawn as a prelude to seizing power. Despite his desire to escape the duplicitous world of martial arts, Ling finds himself on a quest to save Ying’s father and with it the Sun Moon Sect if not the entire nation from the tyrant that Dawn seems primed to become.

Ling, as heroes go, is very much of the wine, women, and song, school. Indeed, he’s not much for anything without a good cup of booze – something that provokes an instant connection with the unusual figure of Dawn when he spots her bathing in a local pool and she offers him some of her upscale alcohol in a pretty bottle. The powers of the Sacred Volume come with a price – in order to embrace them, Dawn must transform herself into a woman (or in the less poetic rendering of the text, simply cut off her penis). Dawn’s transformation is a gradual process and she continues to play her male role as the head her clan, even parading her mistress in front of her captives in a noticeably salacious manner. However, Dawn is also caught off guard by an unexpected attraction to the cheerfully tipsy Ling and the transformation seems to accelerate – she begins wearing makeup, her voice changes into a more feminine register, and her sexual relationship with her mistress appears to be definitively over.

Meanwhile, Ling is fighting a romantic war on three fronts – he’s captivated by the mysterious woman who avoided speaking to him never knowing she is really his enemy, but is still half in love with Ying, and the subject of Kiddo’s unrequited crush. While Dawn wrestles with a deeper transformation, Kiddo is also trying to process her place as a woman among men in attempting to shed her tomboyish image by styling her hair in more classically female fashions and wearing makeup – something which can’t help but arouse mild hilarity among her comrades who collectively think of her as a tough little sister. Trying to explain her new persona to her mistress, Dawn insists that she will never forget her and that essentially nothing has changed, while the guys partially mock Kiddo’s new desire to embrace her femininity by avowing that male/female/non-binary gender is an irrelevance. Even so, on realising Dawn is the person he’d been looking for and was once Ying’s uncle, Ling’s parting questions are all about whether he might have accidentally slept with a man which he seems to find embarrassing. Nevertheless, it’s “femininity” which finally does for Dawn as she finds herself weakened by love and eventually pushed towards a “heroic” act of romantic sacrifice.

Having defeated one tyrant, Ling finds himself threatened by another as Wu’s maniacal need for revenge provokes a wide scale purge of those who had “betrayed” him. Ling’s desire to remove himself from this world of betrayals, violence, and complex moralities seems ever more understandable but cannot be his answer even as he finds himself unwillingly exiled. If you turn your back on trouble, it will eventually engulf you and everything you love – as will a failure to resist a trusted ally’s descent into darkness. Strangely affecting in its hero/villain symmetries and air of tragic romance, Swordsman II’s beautifully choreographed action sequences are only surpassed by its fierce commitment to fantasy.


Swordsman II was screened as part of An Evening with Tony Ching Siu-tung presented by the Chinese Visual Festival.