POST-teenage viewers unfamiliar with life in Taiwan should be prepared to surmount both generational and cultural gaps in viewing No, Sir. Whether or not this extremely light army comedy will prove worth the effort is another matter.
One of last summer's top grossing Chinese films in Taipei, No, Sir is yet another variation on the soldier-in-training theme popularised in An Officer and A Gentleman. The idea is hardly original even for Taiwanese productions. No, Sir, as evident in its Chinese title (which translates as 'Reporting to Squad Leader Part III'), is third in a series, Parts I and II of which were unreleased in Hong Kong.
Ye Yunjiao's script is full of silly fun for those who might relate to the compulsory military training system of the Republic of China. Plenty of anecdotes about enlistees playing truant and their stern squad leader (Tuo Zonghua) trying to whip them into shape.
The plot is totally predictable, with rich boy Ying (Jimmy Lin Zhiying) trying to use his high level connections to get out of the rigorous training regimen. The squad is the worst in the force, what with Ying's laziness and the aloofness of super cool basketball star Iron Head (Takeshi Kaneshiro). All this changes following a run-in with a rival squad, an incident that spurs unity among the enlisters and a sense of pride in themselves.
Jin Aoxun's pedestrian direction does nothing to elevate the film into more than a series of lukewarm comedy sketches. Also, there is no real emotion, no chemistry between the various squad members. The movie is little more than a showcase for teen idols Jimmy Lin and Takeshi Kaneshiro, with the emphasis clearly on the former - it is his song that is featured during the film's mawkish montage sequence.
As Lin recently entered the ROC army (Kaneshiro is exempt due to his Japanese citizenship), this gives No, Sir a certain timeliness. But as neither idol possesses enough talent or charisma to mesmerise post-pubescent viewers, 'No Sir' may be very well the response of Hong Kong's adult movie-going public.
The fifth instalment of Tsui Hark's Once Upon a Time in China saga, completed over a year ago, finally makes it to the big screen. The popularity of swordplay epics, fuelled in part by the box-office success of the first Once Upon a Time in China in 1991, had waned considerably by the time of the release of Part IV in 1993. Part V, though competently made, lacks enough sparks of originality to revive the trend, especially for Hong Kong audiences still over-satiated with the flash of swords in Imperial China.
