If sappiness, melodramatics and exaggerated antics are staple features of Taiwanese commercial cinema, then 70-year-old Chu Ko Liang (豬哥亮) is its granddaddy. It seems just yesterday that Liang reemerged after keeping a low profile for more than a decade, but Hanky Panky (大釣哥) marks his sixth-straight Lunar New Year comedy — all massive box office successes. To be expected, the film is chock full of the aforementioned elements, and, of course, Liang’s trademark bathroom humor.
But the strange thing is that what would usually be cringe-worthy and outlandish makes total sense when Liang is in the mix. After all, he hails from a time where nonsensical comedies were still funny. All he has to do is be himself (or his usual stage persona) — the crass, inappropriate and over-the-top old man with the eternal bowl cut — and everything else seems to flow naturally. That said, Liang does rein in the weirdness for brief spurts and delivers a decent performance as a worried father whose son is about to be sentenced to death.
One might even complain that the film is tamer than expected, but Liang says he purposely created a more well-rounded character that is closer to his ideal of the “true Taiwanese man.” Liang says he has felt something missing in his previous films despite box office success, and decided to be more hands-on with Hanky Panky. Collaborating with former co-star Blue Lan (藍正龍), Liang reportedly spent three years coming up with the plot and setting before handing the reins to director Huang Chao-liang (黃朝亮), who directed Liang’s 2015 A Wonderful Wedding (大喜臨門).
Photo courtesy of Hualien Media
The result is nothing spectacular, and you’ll probably forget this movie once it’s over. But it isn’t a bad film for what it is: another solid and entertaining Liang-style comedy with a decent storyline and a surprising amount of chuckles, which is exactly what people are looking for in a holiday blockbuster. There’s even a somewhat clever twist at the end. But if you don’t understand Hoklo (also known as Taiwanese) or Mandarin, much of the humor will be lost in the subtitles. Even the Chinese film title is a pun, and god knows where they got “Hanky Panky” from.
There’s also a lot of pop culture-specific humor. For example, a scene where a female clerk at a sperm bank moves in slow motion will make no sense if you didn’t know that she is played by a guest actress whose claim to fame is imitating the DMV sloth clerk in Zootopia. What there isn’t in this movie, surprisingly, is swearing.
Liang plays Dadiao, a martial artist turned Chinese medicine practitioner who regularly commits petty theft with his son Hsiao-lung (Lan, also with a bowl cut). When Lan gets in trouble after borrowing money from his father’s enemy to send the love of his life (whom he just met) to law school, Liang must find a way to save him.
Photo courtesy of Hualien Media
Of course, the self-deprecating dirty old man gets no love in the film, and the romance falls to Hsiao-lung and Hsin-yi (Aggie Hsieh, 謝沛恩), who hold their own but lack Liang’s power of making the absurd seem normal. As a result, their scenes are mostly awkward and tacky.
Don’t dismiss Liang as a fool just because of his bumbling on-screen persona. There’s a reason he’s been able to stay relevant despite pulling the same old tricks decade after a decade. He knows how to tell a story, and most importantly, he knows how to make fun of himself — which is where most other Taiwanese screwball comedies fall short.
The slashing of the government’s proposed budget by the two China-aligned parties in the legislature, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), has apparently resulted in blowback from the US. On the recent junket to US President Donald Trump’s inauguration, KMT legislators reported that they were confronted by US officials and congressmen angered at the cuts to the defense budget. The United Daily News (UDN), the longtime KMT party paper, now KMT-aligned media, responded to US anger by blaming the foreign media. Its regular column, the Cold Eye Collection (冷眼集), attacked the international media last month in
On a misty evening in August 1990, two men hiking on the moors surrounding Calvine, a pretty hamlet in Perth and Kinross, claimed to have seen a giant diamond-shaped aircraft flying above them. It apparently had no clear means of propulsion and left no smoke plume; it was silent and static, as if frozen in time. Terrified, they hit the ground and scrambled for cover behind a tree. Then a Harrier fighter jet roared into view, circling the diamond as if sizing it up for a scuffle. One of the men snapped a series of photographs just before the bizarre
Feb. 10 to Feb. 16 More than three decades after penning the iconic High Green Mountains (高山青), a frail Teng Yu-ping (鄧禹平) finally visited the verdant peaks and blue streams of Alishan described in the lyrics. Often mistaken as an indigenous folk song, it was actually created in 1949 by Chinese filmmakers while shooting a scene for the movie Happenings in Alishan (阿里山風雲) in Taipei’s Beitou District (北投), recounts director Chang Ying (張英) in the 1999 book, Chang Ying’s Contributions to Taiwanese Cinema and Theater (打鑼三響包得行: 張英對台灣影劇的貢獻). The team was meant to return to China after filming, but
Power struggles are never pretty. Fortunately, Taiwan is a democracy so there is no blood in the streets, but there are volunteers collecting signatures to recall nearly half of the legislature. With the exceptions of the “September Strife” in 2013 and the Sunflower movement occupation of the Legislative Yuan and the aftermath in 2014, for 16 years the legislative and executive branches of government were relatively at peace because the ruling party also controlled the legislature. Now they are at war. The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) holds the presidency and the Executive Yuan and the pan-blue coalition led by the