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Peeve Farm
Breeding peeves for show, not just to keep as pets
  Blog \Blôg\, n. [Jrg, fr. Jrg. "Web-log".
     See {Blogger, BlogSpot, LiveJournal}.]
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Thursday, February 28, 2002
00:43 - I've got four words for you: Explosive Pissing Beef Balls.
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/6305161615/qid%3D1012149852/sr%3D10-1/103-695

(top) link

Stephen Chow's most recent cult hit, Shaolin Soccer, was the subject of an entry here a few weeks ago; in it, I mentioned that I still hadn't seen Chow's previous seminal effort, The God of Cookery, a movie whose very mention to members of my social circle results in people falling to the ground in fits of streaming-eyed chortling.

Well, now I've seen it. Drew and David's laserdisc copy had been sitting on my end table for two weeks now for me to watch, and I only just now finally got around to it.

My conclusion? Pretty f^%$ed up.

It's a riches-to-rags-to-riches tale of a Chinese chef/critic (the self-proclaimed God of Cookery, sharing the director's name, Stephen Chow) who is ousted from his position of privilege in a cooking competition against a former student. From his arrogant, high-rolling, playing-the-stock-market-from-his-cell-phone pinnacle of prestige, he is cast into the gutter, where he somehow manages to reconcile the two sides of a street-restaurant turf war (one specializing in "Pissing Shrimp" and the other in "Beef Balls") by suggesting a new and revolutionary concoction: Pissing Beef Balls. They're so wonderful, as the warring-no-more chefs screech with water spraying delightedly from their mouths, that they take the food industry by storm and the former God of Cookery rockets back toward the top.

His love interest is a woman called Turkey, an expert in making the vaunted Beef Balls, whose teeth resemble a beautiful white picket fence in both shape and size. She bursts quite unexpectedly into song for Chow, driving Zjonni into retreat to a remote room far from Hong Kong slapstick kung-fu cooking movies.

The "God of Cookery" competition then begins, pitting Chow against his usurper in a battle royale that is either a direct lift from Iron Chef or the direct inspiration for it; since both this movie and the Japanese series date from about 1996, I'm not at all sure which came first. But it's all there, right down to the flamboyant Chairman Kaga-esque MC and the dragon-lady food connoisseur who's judging the match from behind her horn-rimmed glasses. She dances around in her bright purple suit and flings out contestants right and left for minor infractions; she wants to see the two super-chefs go at it, and conveniently enough, they're facing each other down like gunslingers.

A flashback tells the story of how Chow stumbled away from a hit attempt (that resulted in Turkey getting shot in the face) down a hill and into a Shaolin monastery-- where he learned the true art of kung-fu cooking from the Eighteen Brassmen of Shaolin Monastery! <dramatic group pose> They beat him up several times, he weeps over his lost love and his hair turns silver, and finally he comes out of the flashback and the fight begins.

Think Iron Chef with kung-fu. They make a dish called "Buddha Jumping Wall" (I always wonder, do they find these names to be sensible? Or is it schtick to them?), demonstrating the ability to chop food in fractions of seconds while it's being tossed through the air, to burst food into flames by sheer force of will, and to beat each other with folding chairs. ("Great folding chair technique!" enthuses the dragon-lady. "It's ranked among the top seven weapons. The police can't charge you for weapon possession!") They finish their presentations and present them for judging-- and the judge is so overcome with sorrow at the "Sorrowful Rice" dish that Chow was forced to make that she chooses his enemy's "Buddha Jumping Wall" as the winner. But Just Then...

The clouds part and the true heavenly fairies of cooking come down to anoint Chow with the godlike powers he truly has earned. They turn his former investing partner into a dog, and they punch a big circular hole in his opponent's chest. Then Turkey comes back to life with her teeth magically straightened by plastic surgery.

No, I'm not being sarcastic. That's how it ends.

It's a very fast-paced movie; the dialogue goes by fast and furious, and you can't look away for a second lest you miss crucial subtitles (which often vanish into the white background). The pacing is bizarre, full of repetition and flashbacks, but I honestly can't say I've seen much that's funnier than the reaction when the first Explosive Pissing Beef Ball is consumed. Think "Jumping Sorrowful Hose Inside Mouth with Salty Beef Buddha and Nipples Hardened Song of Love".

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© Brian Tiemann