The Luckiest Man
2008; directed by Lam Tze-Chung

If you ever find yourself watching The Luckiest Man, you most definitely will not be feeling lucky. Sorry about that poorly-worded zinger, but after subjecting myself to ninety minutes of this twaddle, my brain has turned into complete mush. This sort of thing is truly low-budget Hong Kong film-making at its' absolute worst: it's dumb, it's loud, but worst of all, it's just so damn boring that you'll be reaching for a bottle of Nytol just to give yourself a little pep.

Originally released during Lunar New Year, where fun star-packed romantic comedies are the order of the day, The Luckiest Man follows the formula to a tee. Except that it would be a stretch to call most of the actors appearing in here actual stars, and director Lam Tze-Chung (aka Stephen Chow's chubby sidekick) instills many emotions in the viewer, but fun isn't among those presented. Not to keep harping on a point, The Luckiest Man is sheer torture to sit through. It's something that should come with a shiny medal that you receive for actually sitting through the whole damn thing in one sitting, which, frankly, this reviewer did not.

I suppose some particulars should be given out about the actual details of the movie. Well, fasten your seat belts, folks, because it's going to knock your socks off. There's an old gambling master (Nat Chan) who is about to retire, and his clan of bitchy wives and spoiled children are salivating thinking about the booty. But when a long-lost cousin (Bosco Wong) shows up, everything is thrown into a tizzy. That is, until the syrupy ending, where everyone learns to live in peace and harmony in a sequence that has all of the credibility and believability of Bill Clinton saying he never let Monica Lewinsky play an adult-themed tune on his saxophone down below.

I don't want you readers out there thinking I am trying to postulate that I am above a bit of toilet humor. No, in fact, off-color jokes can be extremely funny if used in the right context and performed with any degree of skill. However, Lam Tze-Chung falls back to a mainstay of lazy Hong Kong film-making by simply having his actors yell out their lines in order to emphasize that there's supposed to be something hilarious going on. But it's not hilarious, it's just annoying. By the time The Luckiest Man, you might just have to pull out a bottle of Excedrin to chase down those Nytols you ate before. Because sitting around in a dazed semi-comatose state is much more enjoyable than anything The Luckiest Man throws towards the viewer.

RATING: 2