A poster just as crap as the film. Awful…
I could tell I was in for a loooooong night within the first three minutes of Bulletproof Monk, when the opening sequence set out to prove just what a gun martial artist Chow Yun Fat was, but actually suggested that I prepare for an hour and a half of gratuitous CGI, clumsy green screen and laughably bad wire work.
Poor old Chow Yun Fat must wish he stayed in Hong Kong, just like Jet Li should have… But he made it, I watched it. So let’s talk about it.
Chow Yun Fat plays ‘Monk’ – just Monk – having sacrificed his own name as a symbol of just how serious he was to take his allotted role, which in truth is a pretty serious thing to be tasked with. It is the 1930s and Monk is the new caretaker of a Magic Scroll of Ultimate Power. Or something. In any case it’s not good if the roll falls in the wrong hands, and Monk is about to pull a 60 year shift of guarding the relay baton of destiny.
With 59 years, 11 months, 364 days, 23 hours and 50 minutes remaining until Monk can punch the clock and handover the responsibility, his quiet existence is shattered. By Nazis. We are then lead to believe that for the next 60 years Monk either goes to ground or remains on the run from the evil Nazi soldiers pursuing him.
Regardless of logic the movie re-opens six decades later in New York City, where Monk meets Kar (Sean William Scott), a self absorbed pick-pocket who also happens to know martial arts. Special mention here to Mr Funktastic, an absolute dick of a British Calvin Klein model who in one breathtakingly reprehensible scene helps prove to us that Kar is in fact an accomplished martial artist, and helps introduce him to Jade, the spunky girl *slash* love interest that these awful films demand. As much as I loathed every electron and positron in this film – I hated Mr Funktastic more.
Whatever. We get another hour of Kar and Monk running from Nazis with the girl in two, with occasional pause only to spout dialogue so aggressively bad that it sounds like it is trying to win an awful dialogue contest. I thought Monks usually adopted vows of silence? I can only wish that were true. Unfortunately that would only mean more clean air for Kar to pollute with his inane yammering.
Oh and the three or four pivotal ‘finishing moves’ in the final stages of the film were frankly insulting to anyone who has ever seen even a moderately decent martial arts film.
In summary;
- Action – ‘F’
- Plot – ‘F’
- Comedic value – ‘F’
- Benefit to the great Chow Yun Fat’s career – ‘F minus’
I would actually hate Bulletproof Monk even more if it weren’t for the fact that it keeps The Medallion off the bottom of the martial arts film tables. So Bulletproof Monk, on behalf of Jackie Chan’s legacy – I kinda thank you. (As far as The Spy Next Door – Jackie you’re on your own for that one.)
Final Rating – 3 / 10. It’s not the two hours I wasted watching this that I’ll miss, it’s the brain cells that this film callously extracted from me (brain cells that are in dwindling supply.) On the bright side if I lose 98% more, maybe I might be qualified to write Bulletproof Monk 2…
