The worst entertainment news you’ll read all day

No, not that Dan Harmon got fired from Community (though that does really, really suck).  The worst is that Jackie Chan is officially retiring from action cinema.  I’ll have more to say on this later, but right now, I have literal tears in my eyes.  This may sound pathetic and overreactive, but it is what it is.  I don’t blame the man.  If the legendary Jackie Chan says that he’s too old and too beat up to keep fighting for a living, then I believe him.  He ought to know.  For more than four decades, the man has been putting his body on the line for his audience, and nearly lost his life a few times doing it.  He is one of the hardest working performers in the world, and there are few professionals I admire as deeply.  So if he’s moving on to other things, his reasons are good enough for me.  Except they’re not.  Because they’re reminders that Jackie Chan is a mortal, just like the rest of us, and even though he’s not riding off into the sunset just yet, it feels like he’s trading in his spurs for a rocking chair.  He’s darn well earned it, and I look forward to seeing him continue to push himself as an actor, even if it’s on the relative safety of his metaphorical front porch.  I can still feel sad about it, though.  He’s a real-life hero to me, and I hate watching heroes fade away. ☕

Doctor Benny and Mister Smith

I finally got around to watching Wheels on Meals (1984) in its entirety (thank you, Netflix streaming!). Apart from the sheer glory that materializes every time you put Jackie Chan, Sammo Hung, and Yuen Biao on screen together, Benny Urquidez blew a hole in the space-time continuum. No, not with his jaw-popping high kicks, but with his wardrobe. The first time he showed up, I did a double-take and shot my wife a single, dazed question, “Why is Benny the Jet dressed like the Eleventh Doctor?”

Da bing xiao jiang (Little Big Soldier) ☕ d. Ding Sheng, 2010

Little Big Soldier is one of Jackie Chan’s most polished films — a little on the disappointing side, but also perhaps the most politically intriguing film he’s ever made. The story is fairly straightforward: a peasant farmer who’s been drafted into an endless war on the eve of the Qin dynasty’s consolidation of power captures an enemy general. He hopes to trade the general to his government in exchange for exemption from service. Since it’s a Jackie Chan movie, you know that Chan’s character is not going to remain so venal and ruthless throughout the film, and since the film follows the buddy film formula, you know that these two foes will inevitably join forces and come to a mutual understanding. There’s no suspense in that. The suspense derives from the undercurrent of tragedy and historical inevitability that is set up by the film’s opening shots. An ancient scroll unfurls, promising to depict events frozen (and immutable) in the amber of history. 

Kung Fu Panda 2 ☕ d. Jennifer Yuh Nelson, 2011

Kung Fu Panda was one of the best films of 2008; it is one of the best films of the last decade.  I was unsatisfied by the film only in the respect that I wanted more, and I wanted it now.  Three years isn’t a terribly long time to wait for a sequel, and I’m very disappointed that the box office receipts for Kung Fu Panda 2 are not encouraging — it’s a hit, but it is not going to be a blockbuster, even when it finally turns a profit.  It’s getting trounced by The Hangover Part II, the X-Men prequel, and (in terms of cost-profit ratio) the Judd Apatow-produced Bridesmaids.  A third movie may happen, but expectations will be considerably diminished, which is a shame, because Kung Fu Panda 2 is every bit as good as its predecessor, and it succeeds in the key element that distinguishes all great sequels: the characters continue to grow.