How Stephen Chow’s The God of Cookery proved the Hong Kong comedy star could do much more

Stephen Chow Sing-chi became a Hong Kong superstar in 1990, inheriting the comic crown that was worn by Michael Hui Koon-man in the 1970s and kung fu comedians like Sammo Hung Kam-bo in the 1980s. But by the middle of the decade, overexposure had caused his star to wane. A more thoughtful filmmaker than his scatterbrained films often suggested, Chow realised he needed to make a change, focusing on increasing the quality and decreasing the quantity of his films. Consequently, the 1996 film The God of Cookery saw him move away from the popular mo lei tau (“nonsense”) comedic style of his earlier films. Although mo lei tau was mainly about playing games with the Cantonese language, the goofy physical humour that resulted from his co-performers reacting spontaneously to Chow’s absurd improvisations also played a part. The God of Cookery is much more organised in terms of verbal humour and slapstick, both of which are more carefully choreographed than in his earlier works. According to film consultant Ryan Law, audiences were tiring of Chow’s persona, yet would only accept him as a comedy actor, creating a dangerous trap of stereotyping. Law also noted in his essay “Stephen Chow: King of Comedy” that the success of Forbidden City Cop earlier in 1996 – which hinted at a new direction – gave Chow the confidence to expand his range further with The God of Cookery. Although Chow, who co-scripted and co-directed The God of Cookery, paid more attention to structure, he thankfully did not allow it to constrain his bizarre flights of imagination. He still takes the story where he wants, refusing to be constrained by genre and breaking all the usual rules of filmmaking. Who else would, in the final third of a film, suddenly send a modern-day celebrity cook to the fabled Shaolin Temple, where he learns the art of infusing his dishes with soul from kung fu monks in the monastery kitchen? Chow plays a fraudulent celebrity chef named, well, Stephen Chow, who has lied his way into the revered title of Hong Kong’s “God of Cookery” – even though he cannot actually cook. He is the judge of a big cookery competition, where he harasses the cooks and ridicules their culinary skills. Unfortunately for Chow, his assistant Bull Tong (played joyously by co-writer Vincent Kok Tak-chiu) outs him during the competition, showing that he is nothing but a fast-talking charlatan. Chow loses everything and ends up hanging out at a noodle stall in Temple Street owned by the ugly Twin Turkey Daggers (Karen Mok Man-wai sporting a huge pair of false teeth). Twin Turkey Daggers sets Chow on the road to redemption, and an unexpected stay at the mythical Shaolin Temple teaches him how to infuse his cooking with love and honesty. Chow returns to Hong Kong and enters the cooking competition – set on the fabled Tai Pak Floating Restaurant and judged by acting veteran Nancy Sit Ka-yin – where he cooks up a basic but beautiful char siu dish called “Sorrowful Rice”. Things cannot end plainly in a Stephen Chow film, so the finale features an appearance by some Taoist gods, who reveal that Chow was formerly an assistant to the God of Cookery but was cast down to earth because he revealed the secrets of cooking to humankind. “The story is slight, just enough to give Chow a plausible framework on which to display his talent. This he does very well,” said critic Paul Fonoroff in his 1996 review in the Post. “It gives Chow ample chance to display both pomposity and humility, a sure-fire combination that has the viewers’ laughter turn from jeers to cheers,” he continued. “It may not reach the heights of some of his earlier nonsense farces, but it shows that Chow is still capable of creating a movie and not merely a collection of gags.” The cooking competition references the Japanese cookery competition TV show Iron Chef, which was popular in Hong Kong during the early 1990s. But inspiration actually struck when Chow, who is reportedly a foodie, visited his favourite chef, the “Hong Kong Food God” Dai Lung. Dai made him some barbecued pork rice which he felt was bland, so the chef spiced it up. Watching Dai work gave him the idea for a film about food. “I thought that people would be interested in the subject. Eating is something that everyone can relate to, and it’s also a subject that is very trendy,” Chow told the Post’s Winnie Chung. Dai’s dish inspired Chow’s “Sorrowful Rice”, a tasty but humble food with street roots. After the film’s success, restaurants in Hong Kong started offering Sorrowful Rice on the menu, basing the recipe on the one in the film. Dai himself acted as a food consultant during the shoot, ensuring that all the dishes – except, perhaps, the “Urinating Beef Balls” – were vaguely possible. Dai also had a cameo in the movie as the Frying King, and he appeared later in the Chow films The Lucky Guy and The King of Comedy. Perhaps the biggest surprise came after the film’s release, when 20th Century Fox optioned it for a US remake – a rare move for a Hong Kong comedy in an era when Hollywood was primarily interested in the city’s action cinema. Chow mused that the genre-bending nature of the film may have been key, recalling how different US executives had alternately described it as “a really good comedy” and “a very good drama”. He reportedly suggested that Jim Carrey, then at the height of his fame, take on the lead role. Carrey apparently expressed interest in the project, although he never officially signed on. But then Hollywood’s interest in Hong Kong films began to wane, and the US remake never came to fruition. In this regular feature series on the best of Hong Kong cinema, we examine the legacy of classic films, re-evaluate the careers of its greatest stars, and revisit some of the lesser-known aspects of the beloved industry. Want more articles like this? Follow SCMP Film on Facebook

How Stephen Chow’s The God of Cookery proved the Hong Kong comedy star could do much more

At a time when Stephen Chow was best known for his nonsensical comedies, The God of Cookery saw him transform as a filmmaker