A CHINESE GHOST STORY (1997), dir. Andrew Chen

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Overall rating: ** (out of ****)

This seems more like an attempt to compete with Walt Disney than Hayao Miyazaki, and that’s unfortunate since Miyazaki’s Studio Gibli effectively set the new gold standard for hand-drawn animation during the late 90’s.

Indeed, films like “Princess Mononoke” and “Spirited Away” sported gorgeous drawings and impressive storytelling. However, they were also characterized by ambitious, occasionally epic storylines that utilized elements of Japanese mythology, executed in a mature fashion that appealed to all audiences. And therein lies the big difference between Miyazaki’s films and this one, produced by Hong Kong action master Tsui Hark; although “A Chinese Ghost Story” does touch on some grown-up themes, it does so in a restless manner that’s heavy on the eye candy. It’s as if Hark believed success depended solely on getting children into the theater.

Based on a story that inspired a live-action film and several sequels, the main character of “A Chinese Ghost Story” is Ning, a wandering tax collector with a broken heart. He was too busy earning his way in the world to keep his lover, who is mostly shown via flashback, from marrying someone else. When night falls, Ning ends up in a ghost city, which looks normal except for all the green tentacle-bearing creatures walking around (and that the city is lit up like Los Angeles in “Blade Runner”). What also distracts him is a beautiful woman named Shine; he falls in love with her at first sight, and it’s not long before she takes an interest in Ning herself.

Little does our protagonist know that Shine, who is also a ghost, works for a powerful entity named Trunk, who needs to eat human souls to maintain her beauty. After helping Ning out of a jam, Shine starts to coax him back to her master; however, a series of events happen which thrust the pair into the wilderness and toward each other. They include appearances by rival ghost hunters: on one side, White Hair and his apprentice, who resemble traditional action heroes; versus the more grizzled-looking Red Beard, who is about 70-percent facial hair and 100-percent gristle. There is also another female ghost jealous of Shine’s prominence among their fellow spirits. Finally, Shine has to beware the daylight, which can reduce her to ash, so Ning carries her around in an umbrella.

I can’t help thinking Miyazaki would have made a charming love story out of a young man with an umbrella that turns into a woman. To its credit, the film does reveal that Shine has a boyfriend – another ghost who has been away for years – and the idea that faithfulness is a shared trait among the protagonists makes their pairing all the more appealing. But screenwriter Hark, more known for kinetic, frenetic martial arts movies like “The Blade” and the “Once Upon a Time in China” series, barely lets the characters be alone together before propelling them into another fast-paced action sequence. The film manages to end before exhausting us, but what we take away isn’t the story and characters, it’s all the gimmicks aimed at the kid set.

Like a lot of the animated American movies of the 90’s, there is a pet sidekick providing comic relief (including a timely urination joke), some forgettable musical numbers, and strange moments of anachronism, including a ghost whipping out what amounts to a cell phone. In addition, characters all seem to try solving their problems by breaking out magical weapons, shooting at one another with electric eye beams, or the coup de grace: activating a giant robot with rocket boosters on its legs, and is clearly made out of computer graphics. At best, children will ooh and aah at the tumult of stimulation, but since nothing looks particularly innovative on a design level, adults are more likely to dismiss the giant robot as an inevitable toy product tie-in, or to wish for tighter editing during the elaborate throwdowns.

Kids may get a kick out of “A Chinese Ghost Story,” but those looking for sophisticated animated fare will probably be bored.

(Note: “A Chinese Ghost Story” was directed by someone named Andrew Chen, but based on the opening credits, you’d think it was Hark. Known for using directors as vessels for his own cinematic visions, he’s gotten most of the credit for movies he’s produced. As such, it only seems fair he gets the brunt of the criticism this time.)

INNER SENSES (2002), dir. Chi-Leung Law

Ever since “The Sixth Sense” came out almost a decade ago, various movies have tried following in the footsteps of M. Night Shymalan’s supernatural-themed drama, mostly by packaging boogedy-boogedy tales with twist endings. The made-in-Hong Kong “Inner Senses” starts off as such a retread, but doesn’t take very long before finding its own way. The path it takes may be more romantic and mainstream than “The Sixth Sense,” yet the film is entertaining nonetheless, even without the twist ending, which is actually more like a twisted middle.

As in Shymalan’s film, “Inner Senses’” main protagonists consist of a fragile soul who claims to see dead people, and a haunted-looking psychiatrist who tries to help. It should be noted that the predecessor starred Haley Joel Osment as a young boy whose “I… see… dead people” quickly became a popular catchphrase; “Inner Senses” star “Karena Lam,” on the other hand, is an extremely beautiful young woman. My point is we don’t expect the “The Sixth Sense’s” surrogate father-son relationship so much as a romantic one, especially given how good-looking a couple she and co-star Leslie Cheung make from the outset.

However, before these two can ride off into the sunset, they have to deal with the problems of Lam’s character Yan, who claims she isn’t sick but really does see ghosts. We first glimpse her ability shortly after she has moved into a spacious but creepily drab-looking apartment, and a man appears in a room one moment and is gone the next. Having already seen numerous doctors to no avail, Yan ends up with Cheung’s intelligent, rational-seeming, and thoroughly workaholic Dr. Jim, who gives university lectures on how ghosts are merely the result of years of cultural stimuli.

According to Jim, Chinese culture is especially steeped in the supernatural. “We use ghosts to teach things,” he says, giving an example of how parents often tell their children, “Do this or don’t do that, otherwise a ghost will get you.” It is interesting that, in a Hollywood ghost-related film, the supporting cast is typically composed of non-believers, but almost the opposite is the case here – Jim is practically surrounded by superstitious, spirit-appeasing characters. In one scene, a respected colleague admits he will not take Yan in, despite being married to her cousin. Is it because Yan thinks she sees ghosts? On the contrary, it’s because she might actually see them, and both this rational-seeming medical professional and his wife are terrified of ghosts.

“There are already so many people in Hong Kong. Where would the ghosts live?” Jim asks his colleague. Nevertheless, in typical cinematic psychiatry-fashion, he and Yan manage to develop a close friendship over a short period of time, as he attempts to unearth the repressed memories responsible for her specters, including being abandoned by her parents when very young and rejected by a boyfriend after getting too possessive. But is burying the past and boosting her self-esteem really all Yan needs? Meanwhile, what’s up with the strange changes the good doctor appears to go through, including insomnia and flashbacks that initially seem connected to Yan’s childhood?

Like “The Sixth Sense,” there is a mighty twist, only it happens about an hour in as opposed to the last five minutes. As such, “Inner Senses” is a movie of two halves, the first carried along by scare scenes and the burgeoning relationship between the two leads, the second by recycling the first half’s themes of repression, trauma and suicide, and amping up the stuff going bump in the night. Unfortunately, the latter represents the film at its weakest; “Inner Senses” has some creepy-effective moments early on and in the middle, as we wonder if Jim’s problems are purely psychological, the result of a fear of intimacy. But as soon as the horror gets more visceral, the movie just gets grosser and goofier. On the bright side, it culminates in what could be the most touching necrophilia scene ever committed to celluloid.

But at least the first half sets up enough clues that we don’t feel cheated once the twist kicks in. We also come to care about the protagonists; Kam and Cheung convey vulnerability well, and Cheung’s performance is particularly great, the actor practically embodying such qualities as intelligence, decency, and empathy. He also shows a wealth of versatility in scenes I won’t get give away, except to say they could be compared to Mickey Rourke in “Angel Heart,” which I mean as the highest compliment. It should be noted that “Inner Senses” was the last movie Cheung worked on before committing suicide, and watching him try to help someone with their personal demons seems highly ironic, knowing how he ultimately couldn’t outrun his own.

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

TRIAD ELECTION (2006), dir. Johnnie To

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There are two types of gangsters that populate this film – angry, cocky ones and calmer guys who look like they belong in a boardroom. “Triad Election” argues the second kind is always more dangerous.

This sequel to 2005’s “Election” returns to the universe of the Triads, the brotherhood to which all organized crime gangs in Hong Kong belong. According to tradition, every two years the inner circle of elderly “boss”-types picks a new chairman, who is essentially a CEO of crime. For the past two years, Lok (Simon Yam) has held that role and the brotherhood has flourished, but with a new election around the corner, some young, hungry challengers have thrown their hats into the ring. Unfortunately, what none of them realize is Lok wants an unprecedented second term.

Of the Triads’ various up-and-comers, the most qualified for the chairmanship would be Jimmy (Louis Koo), an illegal porn-dealer turned legitimate businessman. However, during a dinner with Lok and his other “brothers,” Jimmy makes it clear he’s not interested, seemingly paving the way for Kun (Ka Tung Lan), who acts like he has chips on both shoulders, or Jet (Nick Cheung), Lok’s right-hand man, whom he promises to make chairman in exchange for his loyalty.

What starts off semi-familial – the middle-aged Lok, surrounded by his five “sons” – becomes a tightly-paced sequence of double-crosses and unsavory violence, spurred by the Chinese government’s blocking of Jimmy’s grand scheme to develop land just inside their border. Apparently, only Chinese patriots are allowed to do business in China, and the only way Jimmy can become a patriot, he is told, is to become Triad chairman. Since he doesn’t reveal his motivation to the other “brothers,” Jimmy and his loved ones are soon targeted by rivals, just as he finds his morals being increasingly challenged by the inner circle’s demands.

Having not seen “Election” beforehand (Actually, I thought “Triad Election” was “Election”; it wasn’t until the opening credits, in which it’s called “Election 2” that I realized my mistake), I wasn’t sure how many moral codes Jimmy broke in the first film to get where he is, e.g., whether he previously ordered a man’s death. Either way, he does it here, and it’s only the first of a number of transgressions. The violence gets pretty disturbing, such as the torture sequence where a man gets beaten to death with a sledge-hammer, ground up, and fed to a German shepherd. But To, who is Hong Kong’s pre-eminent filmmaker, choreographs the competition with the elegance of a chess match: each player biding their time, not giving away their respective strategies, and only shedding blood when it matters most.

To, who has made movies of all genres, employs stillness to nearly Zen-like effect. Countless shots consist of characters sitting silently or staring off into the distance, making them look about as glamorous as models in a magazine ad. However, it also serves to ratchet up the suspense, as his protagonists become like coiled snakes, always in the midst of contemplating their next move, which they act in swift, deadly fashion. This feeling of calm also gets expressed through the smooth camerawork and in the musical score, which often consists of either a faint drumming or a few notes on a stringed instrument repeated over and over again, creating a vibe of steadiness.

“Triad Election” is a crime film of surprising depth, even if most of the supporting players are thinly characterized. There is a recurring subplot, about the lengths both Jimmy and Lok are willing to go to keep their progeny away from the gangster life. When Jimmy tells his wife early on, “Our children will be doctors and lawyers,” he’s not just talking as a parent who wants his progeny to achieve great things; what he wants, we sense, is for them to have legitimate jobs, to not have to exist in the shadows, as he has had to.

Similarly, Lok has an adolescent son named Denny, and his efforts to shield him from his father’s Triad life have twisted their relationship. When he finds out Denny may be involved in gang activity, he and his henchmen confront his son and a group of youthful hoods in a restaurant. Unfortunately, violence breaks out, and the boy runs off, frightened of his own father. After Lok unsuccessfully tries to catch him on foot, he gets in a car and watches as his son speeds off. “Don’t scare him,” he tells his men, his face an unexpectedly moving mask of sadness and worry. “Just bring him home.”

One could also read into the relationship between Jimmy and mainland China as reflecting the Hong Kong film industry’s anxiety about the mother country, whether it will respect their traditions, or toss them aside if the upside is wealth and power. If the first “Election” is anywhere near as good as “Triad Election,” the series deserves its reputation as one of Hong Kong’s best in recent years. But for my money, it isn’t quite up there with “The Godfather,” despite the shared attributes of darkly-lit atmosphere and small men fighting over small corners of power.

My problem is with the epilogue and what happens to Jimmy, which I won’t give away. Suffice it to say, this movie is intended to be a tragedy, and tragedies – for me, anyway – are always more interesting if the protagonist falls through a weakness in his/her own character. In “The Godfather, Part II,” for example, Michael Corleone had the whole world in his hands, but lost it because he couldn’t forgive his brother’s betrayal. Again, I don’t want to say what happens to Jimmy, except it appears he was always up against powers far greater than his own. In the end, he never stood a chance, but maybe in the next life, he’ll be more wary of guys in suits who look like they belong in the boardroom.

Overall rating: ***1/2 (out of ****)

EASTERN CONDORS (1987), dir. Sammo Hung Kam-Bo

A dirty, not-quite-dozen goes behind enemy lines in “Eastern Condors,” an action/war movie about Chinese ex-convicts recruited for an impossible mission. Directed by Sammo Hung Kam-Bo, this Hong Kong production has more in common with the aerobic martial arts films of Jackie Chan than “The Deer Hunter,” but despite being more entertainment than message movie, the entertaining parts really shine.

The plot: U.S. military brass assigns Lt. Col. Lam (Ching-Ying Lam) the task of destroying deadly weapons left behind in Vietnam. In order to infiltrate the country more effectively, his team consists of Chinese immigrants, incarcerated men who take the job in exchange for early release and money. These hard-luck types run the gamut between old and young, brave and timid, and although most of their personalities are painted with broad strokes, the camera seems to gravitate naturally towards Shawn (Kam-Bo), whose noble features contrast his 30-year sentence for killing a policeman.

Like a lot of Hong Kong movies, “Eastern Condors” mixes action and comedy, but the overall tone is fairly serious, even with the occasional touches of wackiness thrown in. There are lapses in logic now and then, such as a team member dying because he has a stutter, and it takes him too long counting to 20 before opening his parachute. In another scene, Lam’s commanding officer tells him, “Don’t do anything heroic. Get home safe.” A moment later, however, the same C.O. asks if he can look up his long-lost brother, a soldier who wasn’t able to escape Vietnam with his unit. This raises the question: Isn’t risking your life to find someone presumed dead heroic, not to mention dangerous?

Luckily, the missing soldier’s nephew (Yuen Biao) turns out to be both an expert smuggler as well as a formidable martial artist who knows the terrain. Meanwhile, woman warriors, a familiar Hong Kong action trope, also feature prominently, this time as three freedom fighters every bit as tough as the men. They may even be tougher: in one grisly scene, a guerilla who has been stabbed and had her hand sliced off still manages to take her assailant down with her.

Kam-Bo, who was a stuntman before becoming a successful movie star and fight choreographer, does a good job directing, too, capturing mayhem at interesting angles and using slow-motion when things get impressively hairy. Sometimes the action gets a little too elaborate: in one of many scenes spent engaging Vietcong troops bent on killing the unit, Biao dives down from trees with vines wrapped around his waist, which seems like an awful lot of effort to take out enemies one-at-a-time. Nevertheless, the film’s breakneck pace and sheer innovativeness ensure things never get boring; expect daring escapes from jungle prisons, explosions, hand-to-hand combat of all sorts, even a scene where leaves are turned into projectile weapons.

Interestingly, “Eastern Condors” is ostensibly about Chinese emigrants to the U.S., and as such, the movie can be viewed as reflecting what Hong Kong thinks its brethren’s relationship with their adopted country is like, in all its potential complexity. There are moments with definite subtext: for example, the look of discomfort on the Lt. Col.’s face when the prison warden tells him he should take 100 Chinese convicts, not just the ten he wants, because he’ll “just lock up more.” Later, when one character is faced with the possibility of dying in Vietnam, he resignedly says, “At least I’ll die in the East.”

With regards to the film’s depiction of the Vietcong, it helps to keep things in perspective, and remember that “Eastern Condors” represents the prejudices of a specific nation with its own baggage about that country. However, any critics of “The Deer Hunter” will likely be offended by certain scenes involving Vietcong child-soldiers, and the appearance of a fey-looking general who alternates between high-pitched giggling and single-word screams is curious. At least that main heavy kicks ass, and the movie ends on a suitably sardonic commentary about the Chinese’s love-hate relationship with America.

When there’s no Army helicopter in sight to effect a rescue, one protagonist starts cursing, “F*cking America, goddamn America.” When Shawn asks him where he’s going to go after leaving Vietnam, his answer is, of course, “Back to America.”

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

AB-NORMAL BEAUTY (2004), dir. Oxide Pang

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A little too over the top to be genuinely scary, “Ab-normal Beauty” is nevertheless an effective thriller about obsession and the dark paths it can lead down. Some will consider it unfortunate the chosen path has already been explored in films like “The Cell” and “Hostel,” but in my opinion, that’s where the movie actually gets interesting. Overall, this is a solid effort from half the internationally-famous Pang Brothers filmmaking team.

“Ab-normal Beauty” centers on Jiney (Race Wong), a Hong Kong art student who seemingly has it all: good looks, a comfortable lifestyle, and a talented eye when it comes to art and photography. But despite being the best in her class, she’s morose and withdrawn, only awakening a little around her gal-pal Jas (Rosanne Wong) or when training her camera on something. Her nature changes, however, after witnessing a bloody car accident outside her home, at which point Jiney becomes fixated with capturing images of guts and viscera. That, in turn, leads to an escalating amount of personal risk-taking and taboo-transgression for the sake of art.

“When I press the button on my shutter, everything stops. It’s the same way with death,” Jiney says at one point. The screenplay, by director Oxide Pang and Pak Sing Pang, provides some back-story as to why the big sleep could be such a big turn on, connecting it to an unresolved childhood trauma which seems wholly unnecessary (wouldn’t the alienating and de-sensitizing nature of modern urban life have been enough explanation?) until it gets harkened back to by the final, haunting frame.

Like just about anything by the Pang Brothers, “Ab-normal Beauty” features vibrant colors, music video-style editing, and a throbbing techno score. But to the credit of Oxide Pang, who flies solo this time, the bells and whistles occasionally add up to more than just a superficial attempt to be “cool”; some of the best sequences bring the viewer into Jiney’s mind, allowing us to experience it getting re-wired for blood. For example, there is a scene in which Jiney becomes obsessed with photographing chickens being slaughtered at market, so she pays a butcher to kill bird after bird while she snaps pictures and gives directions. What results is a brisk montage inter-cutting chickens pulled from their cages, their necks sliced, and their bodies tossed in an ever-growing pile, and the rush of all this activity, we assume, is exactly the kind of exhilaration that the protagonist herself is feeling.

There’s also one crazy sequence where Jiney, whose darkroom is normally illuminated by red light, is unable to tell the regular lights have been switched on – a terrific way to depict how blood-lusty she has become. For her, the world still looks crimson-hued, and all the photographs hanging on clotheslines start appearing to bleed. Creepily-effective stuff, and a shame it wasn’t arranged closer to the end of the film when her condition has gotten much worse, because it proves tough to top.

Now to close with a word about the last third: “Ab-normal Beauty” ends up in the kind of sick-green-hued dungeon managed by a twisted-looking soul one expects to find in the “Saw” movies. This is where the plot is at its most conventional, but it’s also a reason why I liked this movie; I can’t help thinking the filmmakers included it as a kind of commentary about society’s viewing habits, that when you have an audience obsessed with seeing images of death and suffering, gradually-escalating reactions (culminating in underground snuff films, which become an integral plot point) are bound to result. Pang might have been thinking about the spate of splatter movies popping up in Asia, but that doesn’t mean “Ab-normal Beauty” lacks universality. Indeed, viewed in context with the current trend of masochistic torture porn flicks that are so popular here in the U.S., “Ab-normal Beauty” gives us additional reasons to look at, and worry about ourselves.

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)

RUNNING ON KARMA (2003), dir. Johnnie To, Wai Ka-Fai

“Running on Karma” throws cops, kung fu, even a little slapstick comedy into a blender before giving them all a good spin. What results is a surprisingly-deep movie that’s as much about the teachings of Buddhism as the adventures of a super-powered monk, whose muscles would give the Hulk a run for his money.

The film opens with two storylines converging on the streets of Hong Kong: a male strip show gets busted by police, and a young cop named Yee (Cecilia Cheung) ends up chasing after one of the dancers, the very Schwarzenegger-looking Big (Andy Lau, wearing a muscle suit). Meanwhile, detectives from the Criminal Investigation Department are attacked by the prime suspect in an Indian immigrant’s death. During the ensuing chaos, the suspect escapes, Yee accidentally shoots a police dog, and Big has visions (which resemble static-filled television) of a boy chasing after another dog with a stick.

“I can see karma,” Big tells Yee after she rescues him from a brutal police beating, explaining that he is able to see a person or animal’s previous life, which can often predict what will happen in their current one. With the police dog, it was a case of karma coming back around, as it had once been a child who savagely beat a canine to death. Looking at Yee, who is ordered to help CID with their case, Big sees a military general in her own prior life, and offers to help using his mystical insights and knowledge of martial arts. After staring at the victim in the mortuary, he concludes the crime is the result of hatred so deep that it can only mean “many lifetimes of betrayal and trust,” which turns out to be an important clue.

With her guts and his big muscles, supernatural senses, and as it turns out, ability to float on air like a feather, it isn’t long before they track down CID’s suspect, who in the tradition of kung fu movies has skills that perfectly contrast with Big’s. Following the collar, he and Yee start running into each other more regularly: him helping to protect her during dangerous cases; her going to see him compete on the amateur boxing circuit. At this point, audiences would be forgiven for including the superhero film in “Running on Karma’s” genre mash-up, despite the noticeable lack of secret identities and costumes. Even Yee, who starts investigating Big’s past as a monk, only to discover that the loss of a close friend caused him to give up his life as an ascetic, cannot overlook the similarity; she muses on how amazing life must be that someone as average as her has an extraordinary person like him watching over her.

Alas, just when it seems both protagonists are on their way to a mutually-beneficial friendship, maybe even romance, the filmmakers throw in a twist that sends “Running on Karma” off the beaten path, and toward an ending that is heartbreaking, and also genuinely thoughtful. It’s here that Johnnie To and Wai Ka-Fai both show they have more in mind than just wire-fighting fun; indeed, this may be a movie ostensibly about Eastern religion, but it has a message that can be applied to faith in general: that the challenge of spiritual enlightenment isn’t keeping up the practice of religious ideals, it’s not letting go of them, despite a world that challenges those beliefs constantly.

The seriousness of the third act may surprise some viewers, given how the first hour does have some comedic moments, namely the sight of Big, oversize muscles and all, attempting to ride a moped with disastrous results. I assume Big had to be a larger-than-life character in order to seem analogous to Buddha himself, but the prosthetic suit is the worst thing in the movie. Although his appearance gradually stops being a distraction as he appears more frequently with clothing on, there are moments when bad lighting, or having Big shirtless and supposedly performing acrobatic moves in mid-air, are such that even Lau’s considerable charisma cannot overcome the fakery. But even if these problems result in “Running on Karma” not being a great movie, it’s still a good one.

Overall rating: *** (out of ****)