Golden Chickensss

Eleven years later, Sandra Ng returns to her iconic and award-winning role of Kam in Golden Chickensss and, like fine wine, she seems to have aged splendidly. Familiarity with either Golden Chicken (2002) or Golden Chicken 2 (2003) isn’t really necessary to enjoy this megahit sequel. All you need know is that Kam is a prostitute (or “chicken” in Cantonese slang) who loves her job and will continue doing it with determination and respect. Arguably the grand dame of current Hong Kong cinema, Sandra Ng is divine in this ribald satire highlighted by an obvious love and affection for Hong Kong and its people.

The first two Golden Chicken films used famous Hong Kong historical events to tell Kam’s story, but writer-director Matt Chow (replacing the director of the first two films, Samson Chiu) reverses the formula for Golden Chickensss. Now Kam and her occupation are vehicles for Chow to comment on social, political and technological changes in fast-moving Hong Kong. Topics like the proliferation of mobile phones and the changing sex service industry get parodied, making for a series of funny and scathing gags.

The story is more a series of connected vignettes than a developed narrative. Since making her name as a popular prostitute, Kam has moved from self-employment to mama-san, and now keeps a stable of younger sex workers. Besides discussing how she runs her business, Kam introduces us to her employees, especially Woo Loo (singer Ivana Wong), an ugly duckling who screeches about her desire to make money no matter the personal cost. Woo Loo is played for laughs, thanks to her exaggerated mainland accent and enthusiasm, but Matt Chow’s script gives her hidden facets. Woo Loo is very indicative of Golden Chickensss’ themes in that she’s portrayed with humanity and respect despite the fact that she’s “just a chicken”.

Golden Chickensss mixes perverse comedy with appreciable heart, and is most affecting when it empathizes with sex workers and their customers. By conventional societal standards, these people would be frowned upon, but rather than judge, the filmmakers make the characters relatable. Besides Woo Loo, the film presents an equally hard-working “duck” (slang for a gigolo) played by Ronald Cheng. Shawn Yue appears as a customer who wants others to smell his body odor, while Lo Hoi-pang plays a husband who arranges for his ill wife (Michelle Loo) to sleep with superstar Louis Koo (Koo, playing his own lookalike). The content can be ridiculous but the film laughs along with its characters and asks that the audience do the same.
Some star appearances can be funnier if you know their media context. Louis Koo’s turn as his own lookalike is a terrific self-parody and Ivana Wong’s screen debut is a surprising subversion of her gentle public image. The biggest star turn belongs to Nick Cheung as gangster Gordon, Kam’s former flame and an ex-con who has difficulty adjusting to Hong Kong’s changes. Gordon’s struggle is satirical but manages to be very poignant; Cheung and Ng work beautifully together, and their story dovetails nicely with one of the Golden Chicken series’ key themes. Gordon may feel hopeless, but through humility and resilience, he’ll find his way, just like Kam and the Hong Kong people always have.

Golden Chickensss ends with a protracted curtain call featuring many references to local issues and politics. The film’s political references here and earlier are worth studying as they imply equivalence between political activism and cynical opportunism, while the finale’s set design memorializes a lavish nightclub that came to symbolize past excesses before its closure in 2012. Overseas audiences may not appreciate this sort of minutiae as much as Hong Kong people do. But the film also possesses a humor and humanity that should resonate with any audience, anywhere.

Hongkongers obviously do like the film – Golden Chickensss ran away from its competitors during the 2014 Lunar New Year movie season – and even without the universal themes of hard work and humanity, the film still entertains as a perverse, bawdy comedy. Globally, Golden Chickensss may not strike the same chord, but for Hong Kong audiences this is howling, hopeful populist fun.