Alright, fellow tape travellers, dim the lights, adjust the tracking if you need to (we’ve all been there), and let’s pop in a slice of glorious 90s Hong Kong absurdity: 1996’s Forbidden City Cop (aka Dai lap mat tam 008). If your video store excursions ever led you down the glorious rabbit hole of Hong Kong cinema, you might have stumbled upon this gem, likely sporting a cover that barely hinted at the inspired lunacy within. This isn't just an action-comedy; it's Stephen Chow operating at the peak of his inventive, genre-mashing powers.
Imagine Imperial China, but James Bond is one of the Emperor's bodyguards. Except, this particular agent, Ling Ling Fatt (played by the incomparable Stephen Chow, who also co-directed and co-wrote), isn't much for kung fu. No, his talents lie in… inventing utterly bizarre gadgets. Think helicopter hats, crude machine guns disguised as cannons, and a bed that splits in two for marital spats. He’s the laughingstock of the elite Imperial guard unit, more Q Branch reject than 007.
The Emperor's Oddball Agent
The plot, such as it is, revolves around a nefarious villain called No Face (or Faceless) plotting against the Emperor. While the other guards rely on martial prowess, Fatt finds himself sidelined, his inventions deemed useless distractions. But when a conspiracy involving captured alien anatomy (yes, really) and seductive spies unfolds, it’s Fatt’s unconventional mind and equally unconventional gizmos that become the Empire's last, best, and weirdest hope.
Stephen Chow’s Signature Chaos
If you're unfamiliar with Stephen Chow's particular brand of comedic genius, often called "mo lei tau" (roughly translating to "makes no sense"), Forbidden City Cop is a prime example. It’s a whirlwind of visual gags, excruciating puns (many lost in translation, but the energy remains), slapstick, and brazen movie parodies. The film moves at a breakneck pace, throwing jokes at the screen faster than Fatt can deploy another useless invention. It's a style that could feel jarring initially, but once you sync up with its rhythm, it's relentlessly entertaining. A fascinating bit of trivia: Chow co-wrote the script with his frequent collaborator Vincent Kok (who also co-directed) and, unusually for a mainstream Hong Kong film of the era, two French writers, Laurent Courtiaud and Julien Carbon, who later worked on films like Johnnie To's Running Out of Time (1999). Perhaps their input added another layer to the cross-cultural parody?
One infamous sequence involves Fatt's wife, Ka-Ling (Carina Lau, radiating warmth and fantastic comedic timing), helping him investigate a potential spy posing as a courtesan, leading to a scene hilariously spoofing the interrogation from Basic Instinct (1992), complete with ridiculous props. It's crude, silly, and absolutely unforgettable – pure Chow.
Gadgets, Gags, and Gonzo Stunts
While not a traditional martial arts film, Forbidden City Cop features plenty of physical comedy and wire-fu antics. The emphasis isn't on realistic combat, but on creatively staged comedic set pieces. Remember Fatt’s magnetically-powered ‘flying’ sequence? It’s achieved with obvious wires and sheer commitment to the bit, a hallmark of Hong Kong action filmmaking before CGI smoothed everything out. There's a raw, physical energy to the gags, even the most outlandish ones. The film relies on the performers' willingness to look ridiculous and perform intricate, often demanding, comedic stunts. It’s practical comedy effects, pushed to their ludicrous extreme.
A Product of Its Time?
Watching it now, some of the humour definitely feels very mid-90s Hong Kong. Certain jokes might land differently today, but the sheer creativity and Stephen Chow's magnetic, rubber-faced performance remain incredibly potent. It’s a reminder of a time when Hong Kong cinema was wildly inventive and unafraid to be completely bonkers. The film was a huge hit locally, as most of Chow's films were during this period – he was arguably the biggest star in Asia, delivering massive box office returns with films like God of Cookery (also 1996) and From Beijing with Love (1994). Supporting players like Carman Lee, appearing here as a seductive spy, add to the fun, even in smaller roles.
The blend of historical setting with anachronistic technology and modern film parodies shouldn’t work, but under Chow's guidance, it coalesces into something uniquely charming. It’s a film that doesn't take itself seriously for a second, purely focused on delivering laughs and spectacle in the most unexpected ways possible. I distinctly remember renting this on a slightly worn VHS, the subtitles occasionally questionable, and just being swept away by the sheer audacity of it all.
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VHS Heaven Rating: 8/10
Justification: Forbidden City Cop earns its 8 for sheer comedic invention, Stephen Chow's brilliant central performance, and its status as a prime example of "mo lei tau" humour hitting its stride. The blend of genres is audacious, the gags are relentlessly paced, and Carina Lau is a fantastic foil. It loses a couple of points perhaps for humour that occasionally feels dated and a plot that’s flimsy even by parody standards, but the energy and creativity overwhelmingly compensate.
Final Thought: This is pure, unadulterated Stephen Chow chaos captured on magnetic tape – a reminder that sometimes the most memorable action heroes are the ones armed with ridiculous inventions and perfect comedic timing. Still hilariously inventive, even if you need to rewind a few times just to catch all the gags.