Genre movies, when done right, will always work. Late last year there was The Great Debaters, predictable and formulaic but nonetheless moving and inspirational. Last summer there was the ludicrous – but also ludicrously entertaining – Live Free or Die Hard. This summer, there’s Kung Fu Panda.
Though neither The Great Debaters nor Live Free or Die Hard brought anything new to their respective genres, they drew from those formulas with enough creativity and energy to still excite their audiences. Kung Fu Panda is no different.
Kung Fu Panda begins with an appropriately over-boiled voice-over from the titular panda, Po (Jack Black, Be Kind Rewind). A fearsome panda warrior vanquishes a massive army onscreen as Black says, “Legend tells of a legendary warrior whose kung fu skills were the stuff of legend,” with his usual goofy intensity. Cut to the real Po, a disgruntled noodle vendor at his father’s restaurant. His father, inexplicably a duck (James Hong, Balls of Fury), continually reminds him, “We are noodle folk.”
But Po aspires to be a kung fu warrior. He gets his chance when a totally ridiculous firecracker accident lands him right in front of Master Oogway (Randall Duk Kim, Memoirs of a Geisha) during the ceremony to name the prophesized Dragon Warrior. Oogway insists, “There are no accidents,” and names Po the Dragon Warrior.
The scribes (King of the Hill veterans Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Burger, working from a story by Bulletproof Monk’s Ethan Reiff and Cyrus Voris) are the real stars of Kung Fu Panda. It’s their contribution that allows Panda to entertain despite its generic storyline.
First, the traditional genre elements are executed to precision. By pushing the elements to extremes, the writers keep them engaging and effective. For example, we expect the villain Tai Lung (Ian McShane, Hot Rod) to be fearsome; villains are meant to be mean, scary and just a cut above our expectations. So the writers place Tai Lung in a prison built entirely for him, surrounded by a thousand guards and a myriad of imposing defense mechanisms. So when he breaks out, destroying the entire army guarding him as he goes, and leaps out of the mountain fortress meant to contain him, the audience is thoroughly convinced of his power.
Second, the film plays with the conventions of kung fu movies without actually transgressing their overall structure, allowing for some fresh humor. In one scene, Po wanders into the temple of Master Oogway and marvels at the relics stored there. He is awestruck by the “Urn of whispering warriors, said to contain the souls of the entire tenchu army,” then drops it when he is surprised by Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman, Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium). The urn shatters, and we hear the cries of the souls of the army as they disappear into the air. Countless other jokes are scattered throughout the film, to similarly enjoyable effect.
And the funny moments are always well-delivered by Panda’s all-star cast. Black certainly fits in the role of the goofy panda; his fanboy-like enthusiasm combined with his every-kid quality makes for a winning combination. Ian McShane brings an almost Shakespearean air to his line readings as Tai Lung; his condescension sounds almost classy. McShane has been a great villain since Deadwood, and he has no trouble playing another one here. A notably brief secondary role is played by Jackie Chan (Rush Hour 3) as Master Monkey; it’s clear Chan was brought in for name credit only, and his charms are totally wasted with maybe five useless lines.
But not going to waste is the film’s cinematography, directed with flair by Mark Osborne (Dropping Out) and John Stevenson (Father of the Pride). Osborne and Stevenson use the possibilities provided by the unique medium of computer animation to liberate their camera. It soars! It zooms a hundred miles! It slices and dices! Osborne and Stevenson flip their camera around in ways that would make Martin Scorsese (The Departed) jealous.
If there’s a scene that encapsulates Kung Fu Panda, it’s the training montage, a cinematic device so old that Team America: World Police even featured a song about it (“Even Rocky had a montage!”). But in Kung Fu Panda, Po is trained with food: Master Shifu tells Po to “snatch the dumpling from [his] hand;” Po does pushups to lick a bowl of lo mein on the ground; and Master Shifu and Po spar with chopsticks over a dumpling. It’s this genre cheekiness that defines Kung Fu Panda.
With a pleasantly brisk 92-minute runtime, a constant stream of laughs and classic genre structure, Kung Fu Panda goes down easy. Dreamworks has a surefire hit on its hands, and audiences have a surefire way to spend 91 happy minutes.
dan.benamor@gmail.com
RATING: 4 STARS OUT OF 5
