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Chan charms the Old West
By STEVE PERSALL, Times Film Critic © St. Petersburg Times, published May 26, 2000
The guy is a natural, becoming more lovable as age and bankability commands a few shortcuts on the death-defying stunts of his early career. The fewer risks taken with his life, the more Hollywood depends on his greatest skill, one that can't be rehearsed: Jackie Chan makes people feels good. Shanghai Noon is a rowdy reminder of how entertaining Chan can be with that face, those fists and his adorably fractured English. Chan has inspired an Eastern-Western, a frisky, funny cowboys-and-Indians-and-Asians adventure that leaves Wild Wild West rotting in trail dust. Chan plays Chon Wang, pronounced "John Wayne" for a hint of the movie's cheeky demeanor. Chon is a low-rung guard in China's Forbidden City in the 1880s when Princess Pei Pei (Lucy Liu) is kidnapped and taken to America. Chon becomes part of the team sent to pay the ransom and return her. En route, their train is robbed by Roy O'Bannon (Owen Wilson) and his gang. A trigger-happy robber kills Chon's uncle, violating Roy's code of non-violence. Roy and Chon escape separately then bond over a saloon brawl. Roy will help Chon find the princess for a chance at the ransom gold. The plot is an excuse to place Chon in foreign circumstances so he can kick or charm his way out. He vanquishes one set of vicious Native Americans and is hailed as a warrior by another. Wearing war paint, he tangles with white pioneers who don't know what to make of this cheerful twin-breed. Chon gets stoned on a peace pipe and drunk on whisky but never dizzy from a whirlwind of fights. Chan choreographed some doozies for Shanghai Noon. As usual, he is a master of ordinary props, turning trees, horseshoes, even the mounted antlers of a moose into weapons. Anybody can make moviegoers cringe at pain. Chan makes us laugh at it, too. Director Tom Dey displays these battles well, without the snap editing of other Chan films that didn't allow time for the action to settle in. This time, viewers can still be confused by what actually happened to send a bad guy reeling, but it's due to Chan's speed and ingenuity, not careless filmmaking. This isn't the most daring Chan film ever, but it is the most complete. Just don't go seeking historical accuracy. Costumes and sets look straight out of the studio warehouse. Dialogue either has a contemporary slant or "How, Kemosabe" cliches. Racial prejudice is spoofed, not honestly examined. Dey recalls the anachronistic tradition of Support Your Local Gunfighter and Waterhole No. 3, sacrificing veracity for pure entertainment. Shanghai Noon is mainly a personality piece. Chan has plenty of that to spare. What he needs is someone with comic talents formidable enough to play off his straight-man routine. Chris Tucker did it well in Rush Hour. Wilson does it here in completely different fashion, totally laid-back instead of Tucker's manic vibe. Apparently, any style works alongside Chan. Wilson makes Roy an endearing comic creation, a larcenous legend in his own mind. Roy is too surfer-dude nice to be a good criminal, but women get turned on by wanted posters. He is always concerned about being most wanted, griping when people steal his robbery lines or Chon earns a higher bounty. Wilson is a fine screenwriter himself (Rushmore, Bottle Rocket), and many of his funniest lines sound improvised. Together, Chon and Roy are the best Western team since Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, to whom casual respect is paid during a climactic shoot-out. That movie is my all-time favorite, and I've recoiled in horror at such references before. Shanghai Noon earns the right to do it. Shanghai Noon
© St. Petersburg Times. All rights reserved.
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