Anyone with eyes to see, ears to hear or fangs to bite knows that Ricky Lau’s 1985 film Mr. Vampire is one of the most joyous comedies in cinema history, a perfect mix of spooky hijinks, balletic martial arts action and broad, goofy slapstick. It was inevitable that sequels would follow, as well as a wave of rip-offs (of which more later). But how do you repeat a mixture that, on paper, doesn’t look like it should have worked even once? Eureka’s new box set of four follow-ups shows you how. In marked contrast to the mythos-obsessed world of modern Hollywood, the continuity across these four films is extremely loose. Yet each of them is extremely attentive to the themes and ideas of Lau’s original film, making for a particularly satisfying box-set watch. The best of them would be good in any context; the weaker ones gain fascinating new layers from being seen alongside their fellow franchise entries.
Hearteningly for anyone watching in chronological order, the weakest of the four comes up first in the form of Lau’s 1986 Mr. Vampire II (also known as Vampire Family). It’s a shame, because there’s a brilliant set-up where a team of unprepared archaeologists bring a family of jiang shi vampires into modern-day Hong Kong. Having the threat of the first film invade our world is a very effective upping of the stakes, but Mr. Vampire II seems unsure what kind of threat it’s depicting. The scenes of vampire attacks and grisly Taoist rituals, while broadly in line with the first film’s tone, jar unpleasantly with the cute family comedy the rest of the film goes for.
I was aware, before I started watching, that “OK Boy” the child vampire was not a universally popular addition to the franchise, but nothing can prepare you for the montage scenes where he befriends – as weird creatures in post-ET fantasy films tend to – the children of a workaholic father and makes their toys come to life. It’s a lengthy subplot that sends the film’s tonal centre completely out of joint, although a modern generation raised on reverential revivals of this era’s cinema like Super 8 and Stranger Things may find it more enjoyable than I did. Equally, it’s quite possible that they’ll watch it and realise in horror that – absent the mediating hand of a nostalgic modern-day creator – this is what those revered 1980s family comedies were actually like.
It must be said that, despite the tonal waywardness, the stunt work in Mr. Vampire II is as note-perfect as it was in the first movie. This continues to be the case in Lau’s 1987 Mr. Vampire III (aka Mr. Spiritual Fantasy, a name which sounds more like a D’Angelo album than a Hong Kong horror comedy), whose opening sequence immediately announces that the magic is back. An exorcist has the most dramatic costume change in cinema history, a bowl of jumping rice is told to calm down, and the action begins. Anyone unfamiliar with the first film will receive an immediate education as to how bizarre these movies can get, while anyone who loves the first film will feel right at home.
Most of all, there is Lam Ching-ying, giving a performance that reminds you how perfectly this role uses his screen persona. Both serious and ridiculous, he can deliver with absolute deadpan conviction dialogue like “This female banana tree ghost won’t transform without being seduced. Which of you is a virgin other than me?”
Or will they? Despite returning to the period setting that the first sequel jettisoned, Mr. Vampire III still takes a number of big risks. None of the various entities the heroes fight are actually jiang shi, which is the sort of thing that folklorists might be more bothered about than the average viewer. It’s a sign, though, that this film’s supernatural threats will be even weirder and wilder than the hopping undead we’re used to. There is an occultist who curses her victims to hallucinate enormous birds, and a late sequence which might be inspired by the Malaysian orang minyak (a mythological ghoul which Hong Kong audiences would be familiar with via the Shaw brothers’ 1976 film Oily Maniac). The film’s motto is “nothing succeeds like excess”; the action is nastier, with a lot of slashed throats, but that feels more suitable in these excessive environs than the tamer violence did in Mr. Vampire II. There is a plum role for Richard Ng of the Lucky Stars movies, Sammo Hung gets a cameo as a birthday party guest, and Hoh Kin-wai, the “OK Boy” himself, returns and is vindicated with a much more fitting role. There is a gay stereotype that hasn’t aged tremendously well, but overall this might be my favourite film in the collection.
Lau returned for Mr. Vampire Saga IV (aka Uncle Vampire – yes, these titles keep getting sillier) but Lam Ching-ying, catapulted to belated stardom for his role as the wise Master Kau in Mr. Vampire, was unavailable. Building on the more-is-more ethos of Mr. Vampire III, he’s replaced by two grandmasters played by Wu Ma and Anthony Chan. They’re both terrific, and if their old-age make-up is slightly less convincing than the stick-on beards in your local school nativity this fits with the film’s incredibly artificial aesthetic. It’s a tremendously 1980s film, from its score to its slo-mo, but there’s real proficiency in its practical make-up effects. Like Mr. Vampire III, there is a fascination with bodies being inflated during the last battle, and the scene where salt has to be rubbed into a vampire bite – those familiar with the series’s pre-existing mythos will understand why – is a rare moment of true, wince-inducing pain in this slapstick series. Despite that, the overall tone is as innocent as ever, with tricks like using sticky honey to stop jiang shi advancing.
With that, Lau departed the series, but it was hardly the end. The jiang shi was becoming its own subgenre, and unofficial entries in the series continued to proliferate. 1990’s Magic Cop is well-loved by fans, and tributes to the series continued to appear as late as 2013, when Juno Mak made Rigor Mortis. The one Eureka have included, though, is 1989’s Vampire vs Vampire, which James Oliver’s booklet describes as having the same relationship to Lau’s films as Never Say Never Again does to Eon’s James Bond series. Not only does Lam Ching-ying return, he also directs, cheerfully embracing the stereotype the first movie gave him by naming his character “One-Eyebrow Priest”.
The jump from official Mr. Vampire sequel to unofficial Mr. Vampire sequel is so short even a jiang shi could make it. Vampire vs Vampire is a wild, scattergun film, but no more so than Mr. Vampire III. There are some innovations, like the musical number or the presence of a European vampire dressed in Bela Lugosi garb, which make you wonder how the series lasted so long without going there. Most of all, there is Lam Ching-ying, giving a performance that reminds you how perfectly this role uses his screen persona. Both serious and ridiculous, he can deliver with absolute deadpan conviction dialogue like “This female banana tree ghost won’t transform without being seduced. Which of you is a virgin other than me?”
Each film has a commentary by a rotating cast of Asian cinema experts including Frank Djeng, Mike Leeder, Arne Venema and John Charles, as well as the aforementioned James Oliver booklet, choices of different audio tracks (including an English dub on Mr. Vampire II) and a couple of featurettes on the real-life legends and rituals that inspired the series’ mythology. Special shout-out to Darren Wheeling’s lurid green sword-wielding cover art, which pops off the shelf with the brashness these movies demand.
Hopping Mad: The Mr Vampire Sequels is out now on Eureka Blu-Ray
