Police Story (1985, Jackie Chan) (Patreon)

55/100

What I wouldn't give for a combination of Jackie Chan's physical prowess in his prime and, say, Stephen Chow's comedic sensibility. A few years ago, Time Out conducted a poll of critics and filmmakers to determine the 100 greatest action movies of all time, in which Police Story placed 7th, ahead of Seven Samurai and The Killer and Once Upon a Time in the West. Which might possibly be justifiable if voters watched the opening shantytown shootout/demolition derby, left the film running while they headed out for dinner, then returned for the truly astonishing climactic fight sequence, featuring stunts so insane that it's hard to believe the entire cast wasn't hospitalized for months afterward. In between, however, is a solid hour that's virtually action-free, during which Chan cranks up the mugging and I remember why I've never been very motivated to catch up with his oeuvre. (Only other vintage examples I've seen are Drunken Master 2, which I reviewed for Time Out New York almost 20 years ago—making more or less the same complaint, with tiresome plot substituted for lame comedy—and Supercop, which at the time I didn't know is actually Police Story 3.) As always, what's funny is very much a matter of taste, so I can't argue with those who enjoy seeing Chan get hit in the face with a cake not once, not twice, but three times in the midst of a standard Three's Company scenario. Nor would I shun a friend who neglects to wince whenever Maggie Cheung shows up in the thankless role of the hero's jealous, hysterical (I try to use that word sparingly these days, but it applies here), and otherwise purely decorative girlfriend. Yo, Jackie—she can act! (Lin fares better, perhaps because her default expression is weary contempt.) A few bits did wring some laughs from me, e.g. Chan propping up the fake assassin after Selina knocks him semi-conscious. (Points for the reveal, too, since I'd been annoyed by how obviously this ostensible killer was trying not to stab his victim.) But precious little distinguishes Police Story's long second act from Rush Hour, or the parts of Shanghai Noon without Owen Wilson in them, and I'm just never gonna fully embrace a movie that's 25% kinetic masterpiece and 75% static tedium. 

All of that's Ed, if you were to conduct a poll of the greatest action sequences of all time, and Police Story's shopping-mall finale didn't land somewhere in the top 10, we'd be talking about a serious travesty of justice. Honestly, it doesn't even look like stuntwork so much as just a version of Jackass in which people are competing to see who can break the most bones. I realize that's sugar glass and that there's cushioning I can't see, but it's still fucking nuts. And the choice to end on a freeze-frame of pure rage, expressed by a character (and a star) defined by amiability, is genuinely bracing. Maybe that bodes well for Police Story 2, which I'll be watching later this week. (I vaguely recall liking Supercop more than this, though Michelle Yeoh likely deserves much of the credit.)