Virtual Recall (2010) Review

“Virtual Recall” Theatrical Poster

Director: Larry Cheung
Cast: Stephen Fung, Cherrie Ying Choi Yi, Tang Yi Fei, Samuel Pang King Chi, Sammul Chan Kin Fung, Lemon Zhang Meng, Mandy Chiang Nga Man, Simon Lui Yue Yeung, Astrid Chan Chi Ching, Tin Kai Man, Li Hui
Running Time: 95 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Back in the late 2000’s it kind of felt like director Roy Chow’s 2009 production Murderer placed an exclamation mark on the Hong Kong cinematic output of the decade. The Aaron Kwok starring murder mystery is best remembered for its oblivious descent into levels of ridiculousness and absurdity that audiences (and likely a few filmmakers as well) weren’t even aware existed until that point. I bring up Murderer, because I have a theory that the then long-retired director Larry Cheung was one of those filmmakers, and it woke something inside him that said – “You have a Murderer inside you too, let it out!”

The result was 2010’s Virtual Recall, which saw Cheung return to the directors chair for only the third time in his career, with the previous time being for 1993’s entertainingly unhinged wuxia The Sword Stained with Royal Blood. Here Cheung does away with the period setting, instead choosing contemporary Hong Kong for a tale of parallel universes and characters floating through space in bubbles. The moment the opening credits appear onscreen, which look like they’re based on a late night 1980’s infomercial, there’s already a sense that the next 90 minutes are going to be something special. But just in case you’re not convinced, the first scene consists of Stephen Fung (House of Fury, The Avenging Fist) awkwardly floating through time and space thanks to some ropey special effects work. Why? That’s not important.

In fact neither is Stephen Fung, since the main characters are actually Tang Yi-Fei (Future X-Cops, A Disappearing Village) and Cherrie Ying (Fulltime Killer, Throw Down). Yi-Fei plays a psychologist working in an upscale mental sanatorium, and Ying is her patient, who’s convinced she’s mastered the art of being able to travel to parallel universes through meditation. Yi-Fei has her own problems though, such as the way she feels reluctant to get close to her policeman husband (played by Fung), whom she’s been married to for a year (an occasion which Fung bizarrely decides to celebrate by inviting all their friends to a surprise house party). Ying senses Yi-Fei’s troubled mind, so during one of their therapy sessions gifts Yi-Fei one of her prized possessions – a handgun which she uses to play 3-bullet Russian Roulette – because apparently in Hong Kong it’s normal for mental patients to be in possession of a handgun.

As the power dynamics between psychologist and patient begin to shift for no real logical reason, soon Ying is convincing Yi-Fei that she too can travel to parallel universes, and it’s not long before Yi-Fei finds herself turning into bargain basement pixels that float off into the ether. Can she discover whatever it is from her past that’s causing the intimacy issues in her marriage? Is Ying really crazy, or has she unlocked the secret to the multiverse? What does a Muay Thai coach in a dreadlocks wig have to do with any of this? It’s debatable if Virtual Recall has the answer to any of these questions, but it throws them out there all the same, seemingly unaware of its own blatant absurdity.

Based on a novel, Cheung seems convinced that he’s there to create an intellectual psychological thriller, which only serves to make the end result all the more laughable. References to famous scientists, experiments, and pioneers in the field of psychology come thick and fast, almost as if each mention is expected to increase the credibility of Virtual Recall’s concept that little bit more. We get nuggets of information like how 8000 scientists (“including Chinese scientists” – as the subtitle helpfully points out) built the Large Hadron Collider, mentions of Max Tegmark’s theory of Quantum Immortality Experience and Jacob Levy Moreno’s psychodrama therapy, and even the Einstein-Rosen Bridge is thrown in there. The last one is significant since it relates to the wormholes that allow access to parallel universes, or as we’re told in the opening – “Stephen Hawking believes there are countless galaxies, also countless Worm Holes.”

Admittedly, this is the first Hong Kong movie I’ve seen which is endorsed (even if it’s a self-declared endorsement!) by Stephen Hawking, and I have a suspicion it’ll be the last. For all of Virtual Recall’s outlandishness, the pairing of Yi-Fei and Ying arguably keeps things watchable, with even some risqué scenes thrown in. Mainland censorship still wasn’t as strict in 2010 as it was just a few years later, so Cheung throws in some cleavage, hinted lesbianism, and even a blink and you’ll miss it exposed breast, all of which you could see plenty of and more just by scrolling through an average Netflix show today. However considering every one of these scenes would become unthinkable to pass the censorship board by the mid-2010’s, watching Virtual Recall in 2024 feels like a throwback to an era when it seemed the Hong Kong and burgeoning Mainland film industry could work together successfully.

A welcome throwback it may be, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a good movie. Cheung has a tendency to apply the same exaggerated camerawork that worked so well in an energetic new wave wuxia like The Sword Stained with Royal Blood, even though it clearly doesn’t suit an (allegedly) serious psychological thriller, and no more is this apparent than in his use of the triple-zoom. Essentially in any scene which has a particularly dramatic moment, despite it not intending to be comedic, Cheung applies a hilarious crash zoom out of nowhere, that then repeats itself 2 more times in quick succession. Slaps, screams, and facial expression reactions are all subject to the technique, providing out of the blue laugh out loud moments that usually hit when you least expect.

Special mention should also go to a scene featuring the most blatant example of Coca Cola product placement I’ve seen so far. When Yi-Fei meets Fung for the first time they’re outside, and after Fung is nearly knocked off his bicycle, they proceed to somehow end up at possibly the most remote Coca Cola vending machine ever committed to film. Seemingly placed in the middle of nowhere, its isolated location means that it dominates the screen in its one and only scene, the brazenness of it sticking out like a sore thumb (or shining beacon of commercialism, depending on your perspective). Fung playfully steals the Coke that Yi-Fei orders, before riding off on his bike with a “I’m sorry, I want to have some Coke.” All that’s missing was for the logo to suddenly appear across the screen.

Virtual Recall saves its coup de grace though for the last reel, which takes within an almost 2001: A Space Odyssey style existential journey into space and time. I challenge anyone out there to find another movie whose finale (or any part of if for that matter) contains – projectile clothing removal, people floating through bubbles in space, Muay Thai, butterflies, and the World Trade Centre. But wait, there’s more! It’s revealed that all these events are taking place inside a gigantic egg travelling through the space time continuum. Remember, Virtual Recall is not a comedy. Stanley Kubrick would no doubt be proud, or bewildered, possibly even a combination of the 2. In terms of movies that jump the shark, Virtual Recall really throws it all out there for its finale, even if by throwing it all out there it simply means a collection of dodgy special effect shots that look like they’ve been made on an Atari.

After getting Virtual Recall out of his system Larry Cheung would disappear once more, and has never been heard of since. Stephen Fung would go on to marry Shu Qi. Cherrie Ying would marry Jordan Chan the same year. As for Tang Yi-Fei, she’d only make 3 other movies and disappeared from the scene after 2012, perhaps now happily residing in a parallel universe where there’s no risk of her Coke being stolen. Cheung’s directorial swansong may not be a good movie, but its strange alchemy of lofty high-brow ideas, incompetence, and low budget special effects mean it rarely fails to entertain. Plus, what other movie from Hong Kong manages to throw in a credit that gives a shout out to the European Organisation for Nuclear Research!?

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 4/10