“Foolish Plan” Theatrical Poster
Director: Sen Dao
Cast: Jordan Chan Siu-Chun, Deng Jia-Jia, Jiro Wang Dong-Cheng, Lee Beom-Su, Lawrence Ng Kai-Wah, Zhang Xiao-Jue, Xu Ou-Yi, Piao Wen-Xi
Running Time: 88 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Before the relationship between China and South Korea deteriorated in 2017, which resulted in China imposing an unofficial ban on all things South Korean – including importing Korean movies and all things K-pop – China enjoyed using Korea as a backdrop for some of its mainstream cinema outings. Specifically the countries popular honeymoon destination of Jeju Island, of which the local honeymooning couples are likely only outnumbered by Chinese tourists, for a brief period (and when I say brief, I mean 2016) it looked like Chinese studios had found a new go-to formula.
Said formula usually involved a quirky caper like plot, comedic and/or attractive Mainland stars, and of course the obligatory Korean cast members to give it some local flavour. So it was we got movies like Bounty Hunters, which paired Wallace Chung with Lee Min-ho, and Bad Guys Always Die, which saw Wilson Chen acting alongside the likes of Son Ye-jin and Shin Hyun-joon. Joining their ranks to make what I like to call the 2016 Jeju Trilogy is Foolish Plan, which sees Hong Kong’s Young and Dangerous luminary Jordan Chan (Fox Hunter, Golden Job) acting along side Korea’s Lee Beom-su (The Divine Move, City of Violence).
Straight out of the gates Foolish Plan seems a little off centre thanks to a strikingly odd opening credits sequence, which features the country of origin in brackets for any actor not from the Mainland. Jordan Chan is credited as ‘Jordan Chan (Hong Kong, China)’, Jiro Wang is credited as ‘Jiro Wang (Taiwan, China)’, and Lee Beom-su gets the least controversial treatment with ‘Lee Beom-su (South Korea)’. I know China is overly sensitive to anyone who still refers to Hong Kong or Taiwan as being their own countries (just ask John Cena), but this seemed a little ridiculous.
The plot of Foolish Plan is a needlessly convoluted affair, essentially involving a gangster looking to get his hands of a pair of antiques called the Dragon and Phoenix Mirrors, both of which used to belong to Queen Qi who was exiled to Korea at the end of the Yuan dynasty. Enter Jordan Chan, playing a failed Hong Kong cop now working in a Jeju casino operating a number of money laundering scams, and his Chinese wife played by Deng Jia-Jia (Double Trouble, Silent Witness). It’s Deng’s schoolteacher sister, played by Xu Ou-Yi (The Sword Identity, Ameera), who’s in possession of the Phoenix Mirror, and offers to sell it to the gangster who already has the Dragon Mirror. Rather than paying up though, a hitman is hired to kill her, who through a series of broad comedic situations ends up being a heavily in debt movie make-up artist played by Lee Beom-su.
There’s a whole lot more going on, including the arrival of a honeymooning couple from Beijing who also end up getting involved with the gangsters, and Jordan Chan’s dubious acquaintance who may have his own nefarious plans, but they’re drawn so thin that they hardly warrant a mention. The reason why Foolish Plan is so crammed with characters becomes clear once its realised the success of the plot hinges on pulling off a multi-layered mise-en-scène, where everyone somehow ends up crossing paths with each other in a way that impacts the direction of the plot. The narrative relies on seeing the same scenario from a variety of different viewpoints and shifting timelines to allow the audience to get what’s going on, however little thought seems to have been paid to actually caring about any of the characters we’re seeing each viewpoint from.
Helmed by director Sen Dao, the man behind such productions as Shaolin – Let’s Go and Whoever, the shortcomings of the caper style plot look to be covered over through a glossy editing style, likely aiming to recall similar Hollywood outings like the Ocean’s Eleven series. The use of the 3-way split screen is thrown in liberally, although rather than being used to show several different events unfolding onscreen at the same time, here’s its mainly used to capture the comedic gurning of the cast at various different angles. There’s an annoying ‘bloop’ sound effect (not dissimilar to the sound that accompanied Dragon Lee’s punches in many an old-school Korean kung fu flick) that accompanies any time the screen gets split, which I found to be mildly infuriating by the end of the punchy 87 minute runtime.
No less distracting is the decision to end many of the scenes by gradually fading to black, an editing technique that results in an episodic feel that doesn’t do the pacing any favours, and seems all but pointless when one scene fades to black, then the next opens on the exact same shot. The editing overall is a messy affair, with several nonsensical moments finding their way into the narrative that result in bewildered head scratching. In one scene Chan is comforting Jia-Jia in church after she believes her sister has been murdered. It then cuts to a scene of her sitting alone in her living room, staring at a photo of her sister on the wall while ‘Happy Birthday’ plays mournfully in the background, before cutting back to her being with Chan in the church again. What did we just witness? Where does the scene of her sitting alone in her living room fit in? When did it happen? Did it happen? Did the editor just think “I’ll randomly stick it in here”!?
Through all of the jazzy big-band soundtrack and broad comedic shenanigans, Jordan Chan bizarrely seems to be acting in a different movie altogether, playing it straight while all around him faces contort in Dean Shek level displays of gurning. He even gets his own short but sweet fight scene which includes a hilariously gratuitous flying kick. Chan steps in as narrator whenever a new character needs to enter the fray, almost as if his dulcet tones offer enough characterisation for whoever it is being introduced, usually accompanied by a jaunty animated sequence for extra coolness. It shouldn’t work, but by maintaining a poker face Chan actually keeps Foolish Plan watchable, even when we have to endure the villainous gay gangster licking his lackeys face and filling every scene he’s in with a grating high pitched laugh. If anything, audiences may well keep watching because of Chan’s decision to play it straight rather than in spite of it.
Like both Bounty Hunters and Bad Guys Always Die, Foolish Plan is far from being a good movie. It relies too much on the belief that hysterical shouting and juvenile slapstick is a winning combination, and has very little else going on outside of either. The priceless antique plot device has been done countless times before (and you better believe it, in the closing scene we learn that it’s been handed over to the China National Treasures Museum!), and here it offers nothing new. If anything the funniest part of Foolish Plan for me was a scene which wasn’t even intended to be humorous. We learn that if the 2 mirrors are placed together the image of Queen Qi will be revealed. I don’t know what I was expecting, but when they are finally placed together it suddenly turned into some futuristic piece of tech and the Queen’s head popped up above it like a hologram message from a Star Wars flick. Whose idea was that!?
At the same time though, nor does Foolish Plan do anything so overly offensive that it becomes an unbearable experience to watch. It’s one of those movies which is just kind of there, and its perhaps telling that director Sen Dao hasn’t done anything since (which also applies to a number of the actors who appear in it). There’s one scene in the airport that riffs on the mannequin challenge, a social media fad that was popular at the time, in which everyone remains completely still in whatever pose they’re in. Like most social media fads, the mannequin challenge is now all but forgotten, and it’s fair to say the same can be said for Foolish Plan.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 5.5/10
