New York Post Review
Khan can like Chan can in "Supercop"


*** SUPERCOP. Jackie Chan, Michelle Khan. Directed by Stanley Tong. A Chinese
language film dubbed in English. Running time: 90 mins.
By Thelma Adams(New York Post)
Just when you thought you couldn't face one more exploding
aquarium, helicopter tethered to a moving train or giant
fireball scorching the screen, along comes "Supercop."
Part Bruce Lee, part Charlie Chaplin, Hong Kong's Jackie
Chan returns with his "Rumble in the Bronx" director Stanley
Tong. This time he has a secret weapon - former Miss Malaysia
Michelle Khan. We wait breathlessly for her next stunt and
burst into spontaneous applause after she spins and delivers
supple split kicks without a moment's hesitation.
Not since "The Avengers" has there been such a synergistic
coupling of male and female crimefighters. Can Khan keep up
with the men? Hell. She's light years ahead. Like Diana
Rigg, Khan disciplined mind is her most dangerous weapon. And
it doesn't hurt that she has thighs of steel.
Khan and Chan join forces on a "stupid and dangerous
mission". Chan plays Hong Kong detective Kevin Chan; Khan is
mainland China's Director Yang. They go undercover as brother
and sister and race from podunk China to Kuala Lumpur to fell
Asian drug czar Chaibat(Ken Tsang) and his brother
panther(Yuen Wah).
Just when the crime-fighting duo is about to pounce, Chan's
girlfriend May(Maggie Chueng) arrives and blows his cover.
Asian superstar has played her share of kickboxing
superheriones("The Heroic Trio"), but here she fills in as
the giggly cutie in distress.
The producers dubbed the Cantonese-language movie in
English and for the first five minutes, audiences laugh
awkwardly as Hong Kong's finest talk in Dudley Doright tones.
Once the action begins, we no longer bother about mouths
racing ahead of the words they speak.
Chan's athletic sparring is exhilarating. The actor prides
himself on doing his own stunts; he may play a supercop but
he's not invincible. We share is pain and laugh along with
him at the impossible challenges he sets. He gets clocked and
we do time; a rival smacks him in the chest and we can see it
hurts. There's not a mean-spirited bone in Chan's body. There
might not be an unbroken one either.
By the finale, when Chan dangles from a helicopter on the
bottom rung of a rope ladder, we are both in and out of the
movie. Fiction has been replaced by the audacious fact of
this tiny yellowclad figure scraping his butt ion the
minarets of Kuala Lampur. We admire - and are chagrined by -
Chan the daredevil. The Hong Kong Houdini is the summer's
friskiest action hero. Who cares if the plot's less sturdy
than the ropes ladder and not nearly as tight as Khan's
kicks?
Return to the Drunken Master's home page