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Review
by Kozo: |
It
wouldn't be Lunar New Year if reigning QOBO (Queen of
the Box Office) Sammi Cheng didn't take her usual stab
at box office supremacy. The 2004 entry: Magic Kitchen,
produced by those ultra-commercial mavens at Media Asia,
and directed by long-lost Lost and Found director
Lee Chi-Ngai. The film boasts an eclectic supporting
cast, including Maggie Q, Nicola Cheung, Stephen Fung,
Daniel Wu, both the Beast Cops (Anthony Wong
and Michael Wong), and usual Sammi Cheng co-star Andy
Lau. However, the male lead is Jerry Yan of Taiwanese
pop juggernaut F4, a curious choice given his obvious
big-screen inexperience and lack of Cantonese fluency.
But, when you consider the fact that Jerry Yan and Sammi
Cheng are both spokespersons for Pepsi, it all suddenly
makes sense. Once again, marketing shows us the way!
Cheng is Yau Murong, a
talented chef who runs a private kitchen for a select
clientele. She never wanted to be a chef, but found
the occupation thrust upon her when her mother (Sheila
Chan in flashbacks) died, leaving her private kitchen
behind. As a result, Yau now runs the place with her
assistant Ho (Jerry Yan). Business is brisk, thanks
to the regular clients and Yau's purported genius with
the dishes she makes. However, unlike her mother, Yau
has no passion for cooking, and is indeed averse to
it. Her childhood is a jumbled assortment of memories
all circling around her mother's love of cooking and
the mysterious absence of her father, who Yau barely
remembers.
Yau's life has another complication.
There's a supposed family curse which prevents the women
from ever getting it on with the right guy. The biggest
illustration of this "curse" is Yau's ill-fated
relationship with Chun Yao (Andy Lau, in a rare supporting
role). The two were once hot-and-heavy, but were never
able to consummate their affair thanks to a variety
of only-in-the-movies circumstances. Yau is still stuck
on Chun Yao, which creates problems when Chun Yao shows
up in her present, and attached to Yau's friend May
(Maggie Q), no less. Yau is also acutely aware that
Ho has a huge crush on her. She recognizes that Ho's
a great guy despite being three years her junior, but
she's nervous about getting it on with him. Ho has no
such compunctions, and dotes on Yau like your average
lovestruck dope. He's also a budding chef, and wants
Yau to compete in "King Chef", a Japanese
"Iron Chef"-like TV-show. Yau doesn't want
to compete because she fears she will not be able to
come up with recipes on the fly. Eventually, Yau must
come to terms with her issues with men, cooking, and
above all her relationship with her parents. And all
in an hour and forty-five minutes.
Calling Magic Kitchen overstuffed could be an understatement, though it doesn't
appear that way at first. The film is basically about
one woman and her minor struggles to find love, happiness,
etc., but for some reason the film contains more complicated
characters and relationships than your average soap
opera. Yau has issues with men and cooking, is involved
in a love triangle, has friend issues with pals May
and Kwai (Nicola Cheung), and still has time to mess
with a couple of hot guys (Daniel Wu and Stephen Fung),
and even fend off a possible creepy admirer (Anthony
Wong) who might be following her. However, the film
possesses a light, sophisticated feel, so nothing that
ugly or sordid ever happens. The Hong Kong of Magic
Kitchen is a yuppie paradise with trendy bars, cool
restaurants, hip urban fashions, and cute guys who make
eyes at Yau everywhere she goes. As a production, Magic
Kitchen feels sophisticated and upscale, and the
prettiness of all the actors is a great selling point
too. Add to this director Lee Chi-Ngai (Lost and
Found, Dr. Mack), and you have what could
be the most attractively-packaged commercial film of
the year.
Which is why it's such
a disappointment when the film ultimately seems manufactured
and even shallow. Magic Kitchen is rife with
many, many character details, but nothing about the
details seems to exist as more than a direction from
the script. For example, Yau has a private admiration
for May, but that knowledge seems to have little bearing
on what happens in the film. Likewise, the musings on
male/female relationships, and Yau's own personal issues
with romancing Ho are verbalized and explained in a
tired manner. Unfortunately, much of the film's character
detail is related in copious voiceover from Yau and
not through any telling acting or character interaction.
We end up learning a lot about everyone in the film,
but the information hardly seems useful. When everything
about the film, up to and including the characters'
emotions, gets explained verbally, it just isn't engaging.
It's like listening to an audiobook, except we get to
see Sammi Cheng, Andy Lau and Jerry Yan running around
onscreen.
Such attention to detail
is not unusual in a film from Lee Chi-Ngai. Lost
and Found also possessed copious, and even intrusive
voiceover, but it also had a lyrical, even magical vibe
which spoke volumes without actually using words. A
large part of that was probably Takeshi Kaneshiro, who
brought a lovable, delightfully hopeful character to
life onscreen. Magic Kitchen could have used
that kind of sympathetic character, but the closest
it has is Ho, who's played with doe-eyed cuddlieness
by Jerry Yan. Yan is dubbed into Cantonese, which is
part of his problem, but the other part is he's simply
not that charismatic an actor, and his character is
edgeless and soft. His chemistry with Sammi Cheng is
nonexistent, which doesn't help the film either. Given
the plot setup, we're supposed to root for Yau and Ho,
but their coupling generates zero heat.
On the plus side of things,
Andy Lau turns in a charismatic performance as Chun
Yao, and some of the other supporting players are fun
to have around. But it still doesn't add up to much.
The various plot threads of Magic Kitchen float
around for a good ninety minutes until they get resolved
quickly and efficiently. The fates of the characters
are doled out believably, but for some reason it doesn't
seem to matter. That's the biggest problem with Magic
Kitchen: the characters, despite the effort and
pages of script used to flesh them out, never really
seem to be worth caring about. In Sammi Cheng's case,
that's both frustrating and surprising. Cheng's strength
has typically been her winning emotions, which usually
means an automatic slam dunk for any film featuring
Hong Kong's go-to golden girl. But thanks to Magic
Kitchen's onslaught of exposition and predominantly
canned emotions, Cheng seems reduced to being just a
pretty face.
What we're left with is
the usual commercial film conceits: pretty people, nice
locations, and a pleasant, non-threatening time at the
movies. Magic Kitchen hands all that out in spades,
which probably means that enough people went home happy
to give the film winner word-of-mouth. But the fact
that the film is colorless and non-challenging basically
reduces it to a forgettable time at the movies. Even
the cooking, which could have lifted the film above
also-ran drama status, is largely forgettable. It's
criminal for a film called Magic Kitchen to not
give cooking and eating a more vital role, but that's
just what happens here. Despite verbal testimony to
Yau's sensual cooking abilities, none of that sensuality
ever makes it to the screen. When Yau finally cuts loose
with her cooking "magic", the results look
promising, but then there's a big verbalized moment
between Yau and Ho, effectively burying any and all
magic beneath even more exposition. There are simply
too many words here. Magic Kitchen will send
you home hungry, but not because it was so appetizing.
It just isn't filling. (Kozo 2004) |
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