Pedicab Driver (1989)

 

“Pedicab Driver” has been one of my favorite kung fu movies since I saw it on a fuzzy VHS videotape in the late 1990s. The Criterion Channel recently put it on streaming as a part of their “Sammo Hung Kicks Ass” collection, which makes me appreciate even more how carefully crafted it is. While not exactly high definition, the video confirms that the entire production from cinematography to locations is luxurious by the standard of 1980s Hong Kong action movies. The romantically decaying European architecture, obviously nowhere in Hong Kong, gives the movie an aura of nostalgia and melancholy that predates Wong Kar-Wai. My first guess was that it was shot in Macau, or perhaps the Philippines or Malaysia, even though I have been to none of these places. (It was Macau.)

Unlike Wong Kar-Wai movies, of course, in Pedicab Driver we are treated with some of the most impressive stunts and fight choreography ever (no qualifiers needed). The lengthy fight between Sammo and Lau Kar-Leung is, of course, a kind of pinnacle. Its significance is perhaps more symbolic than literal, as it is both an homage to the master of old-school kung fu movies and a definite sendoff for the action style he represents. Although Lau’s casino owner won the fight by giving Sammo’s fat behind a good whooping – after all, the culture demands the appearance of respect for one’s elders – the scene ends with Master Lau handing over the money to Sammo with an acknowledgment of the younger man’s skills. Thus, the younger filmmaker/action director pretends to accept the baton of cinematic dominance peacefully rather than by force. In reality, rumor had it that Lau had resented the new wave of kung fu movies by Sammo, Jackie Chan, and others in the 1980s, with faster and less articulated movement, more camera angles, and shorter cuts. It wouldn’t surprise me if the younger filmmakers also privately felt that Lau was largely over the hill.

Outside of that legendary fight, the movie also features some bone-crunching fight scenes and terrifying stunts by Hung’s stunt team. Even Dick Wei has barely any fighting before getting killed by Billy Chow. What made the movie special, however, is its many layers of sophistication, including the story and characters (not a strong aspect in HK kung fu movies). Sure, there are boob jokes that Sammo just couldn’t resist. And the romantic rivalry between Sammo and the chef/baker (played by the Taiwanese character actor Sun Yueh) over Nina Li is too silly and goes on for too long. But it is rare to find a movie with such warm and unpretentious portrayal of working class people. In a genre piece like this, Hong Kong filmmakers usually spend most of their resources on action choreography and make up the plot as they shoot. Don't laugh, but the filmmaking process in 1980s Hong Kong is not that different from 2020s Disney movies, in which a movie is built upon 3 to 4 elaborate action set pieces while plot and characters merely disposable devices to serve the sensory bombardment. 

Here the characters are drawn with love and tenderness, which probably reflects the relationships in the hay day of the Hung Team (洪家班) and Sammo's leadership style -- rough and tumble with genuine love and trust. The attitude toward a major female character who is a prostitute may be a perfect illustration of Sammo’s general outlook. Crude jokes are made about her, and some of men questioned her morality, but these are quickly dismissed to regard her as a plain and simple proletariat no different from laborers and pedicab drivers. It would be extremely awkward to call Sammo “progressive,” as I have never seen any interview in which he showed a shred of awareness of feminism as we know it. But this lack of educated self-consciousness is quite endearing to an educated self-conscious person like me. Perhaps much of the veiled contempt for sex-workers comes exactly from the education on which Sammo had missed out.

Perhaps it is thanks to the crude and silly boob jokes that the syrupy sentimentality in the movie is easy to go down. Or perhaps Sammo intentionally used syrupy sentimentality to smack the audience in the face with a shocking tragedy in the third act. It is one of the “I can’t believe they actually did that!” moments of all time. If the acting weren’t so genuine and the characters weren’t so relatable, the audience would not have felt as much impact --- not unlike one of the onscreen kicks in the face … in slow motion ... A friend who loves Sammo more than I do refuses to rewatch Pedicab Driver because of it.

This is not the first time a major character, with whom the audience has built much sympathy and identification, is abruptly killed off in a Sammo Hung’s movie. Much like his action choreography, his non-fighting scenes can be merciless with the use of sentimentality. Sammo has been known to say that he enjoys giving the audience emotional whiplashes. I guess this means that he was having maximum fun in the making of Pedicab Drivers.

It is funny how Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung’s styles are somewhat universal. In today’s action movies, Disney’s output is like Jackie, no death and no bleeding, no stake and completely safe for babies. And yet some of us need the emotional whiplashes and the lethal kicks and punches, at least on screen.