Kung Fu Panda – the Review
Let’s face it. I’m a sucker for a martial arts movie. Unless
there are any blood, violence against women, completely implausible and
unnecessary love sub-plot, goofy special effects, people yelling “Aii-yah!”,
and/or the inclusion of a white dude just to make the flick acceptable to a
wide audience. As if white guys are the only ones going to the movies. They
don’t go to the movies, Mr. Mitchell. They download that sh*t through Netflix.
Naturally, my persnickety tastes make it a bit difficult to
settle down and enjoy a movie about the mystical ways the cryptic people of the
mysterious east kill villains and villagers alike. Oh sure, I like Hero. I
probably would like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon if I ever saw it, and I’m
sure I would enjoy Enter the Dragon if I could remember it. But when it comes
to hard-core knuckle-busting, vein-popping, wise-cracking, zen-finding
awesomeness, I want to see the kind of badass I know every red-blooded American
kid wants to see.
A panda.
If I have to watch Jack Black do anything besides play the
guitar, this is what I want to see him doing. Hiding behind a big mass of furry
black-and-white loveableness, encouraging us to believe that underdogs can come
in all shapes and sizes, that fat can be a defensive mechanism (I believe
penguins and seals knew that a long time ago), and that if you believe in
yourself and work out for a couple of hours, you can take on Shere Khan. Mowgli
should have tried some dumpling recon.
So what else does this entertaining and extraordinarily
beautiful piece of cinematography and comic book elementals teach us? What can
we learn from a kids’ movie?
Plenty.
First off, there is a lot to be said for Capital Punishment.
Let’s be honest with ourselves – sure, Po got to figure himself out and become
a Kung-Fu master (is it Kung-fu? Kung fu? I should do more research, but I’m
won’t until I get paid to do this). In the meantime, however, the villagers
were displaced, the village (thousands of years old, and just reeking classical
architecture) was partially destroyed, and a score or more lives were lost at
that prison out of which the tiger escaped. I know they are just government
employees, but still. They’re endangered rhinos. How many more have to die
before we say, enough! Let’s just Wu Shi Pinky Hold his neck over a chopping
block and save the citizens the extra taxes.
And Rhinos do die
when you throw them over cliffs, and when huge stones crush them to tiny
leathery pieces. Do not pull that “it’s a kids’ movie” crap on me. I know how
physics and anatomy work.
Oh. My. Ga-. Kids are starving in China and they just threw
away that last dumpling?! Those wasteful bastards!
Everyone in China speaks excellent English. Except for
Oogway. “Noodles. Don’t noodles.” Yup. He went to my English class.
Damn. Captain Hook’s got some moves. Even after his
unfortunate reincarnation as a chipmunk.
Ultimately, though, Kung-Fu Panda asks some really important
questions. For instance, is Jackie Chan cooler in monkey form than he is in
real life? Is adoption such a dangerous topic that even noodle fowl won’t
address it? And if you come across one endangered animal beating the crap out
of another endangered animal, are you obligated to intervene and violate the
Prime Directive (not to mention breaking the fourth wall)? Or do you make some
popcorn, pour a bottle of pijiu, tell
the kids it’s non-alcoholic, sit back and watch the extremely unlikely demise
of Ian McShane at the paws of Jack Black? Decisions, decisions. Thank goodness, I love Kung-fu.
