Are you ready for yet another ride through Rush Hour, and then some more? Rejoice. The third instalment of the hugely popular Jackie Chan-Chris Tucker action-comedy flick, released worldwide on August 10, may not be the last that the world will see of the two actors that have turned an onscreen battle of wits and physical prowess into an abiding money-spinning device.
The 53-year-old Hong Kong actor, who choreographs his own stunts, is game for more even as sections of Hollywood speculate whether his ageing bones can continue to take the strain anymore. The star, on his part, has stated on a few occasions that his body would be the first to tell him when enough is really enough.
One advantage lies in the fact that Chan does not feel the need for a stunt director. He knows exactly how high he can jump and from where he can leap. He would, for instance, never again do that eye-popping Police Story stunt: sliding down a pole fitted with thousands of live light bulbs. That stunt nearly killed him.
Nor would he ever again try the Armour of God act that led to a near-fatal fall from a tree. The mishap broke his skull and left a permanent hole in his head. Chan has understandably grown more cautious since then and has increasingly begun to take recourse to trick photography.
But what would Chan be without his incredible but bone-chillingly real stunts? The megastar has a cult following around the world, and it hinges primarily on his unique ability to inform action sequences with a sweeping slapsticky quality that makes the stunts double the fun.
Fans adore his Rush Hour act, an uncomplicated combination of great comic timing, innovative stunt sequences and classic kung-fu moves. There is no reason to believe that they will not flock to the theatres all over again to watch the man banter endlessly with co-star Tucker, twist and turn the English language to his own advantage and, in the bargain, pull off some mind-blowing action scenes.
The films that Chan has done so far may not have contributed anything of timeless value to the world in cinematic terms, but his place among non-White movie stars who enjoy a global appeal is unquestioned. He has done as much for kung fu as an internationally filmed entertainment phenomenon as Bruce Lee had done around the time that Chan had just begun to work in the Hong Kong movie industry.
No less important, the commercial success that he has attained through his crowd-pleasing movie outings has opened the doors for not only other Hong Kong actors, but also for the martial arts fantasies crafted by directors of the stature of Zhang Yimou and Ang Lee. Chan has given Chinese and Hong Kong cinema the sort of global profile that few other (and certainly not Bollywood, no matter what its shrill votaries might claim) non-Hollywood movie industries enjoy. While he does the mainstream routine with panache, the likes of Yimou and Chen Kaige pull their considerable weight in the arthouse circuit.
When Chan attained Hollywood stardom in the mid-1990s after a few false starts, riding on the runaway success of Rumble in the Bronx, he became the first Hong Kong star to do so. His charismatic personality and gutsy disposition have helped Chan build on the early advantages. Since Rumble in the Bronx, other Hong Kong stars (Chow Yun Fat, Jet Li) have followed Jackie Chan into the space that he?s created and broadened over the past few years. Today, everything that he touches seems to turn to gold.
The first Rush Hour, released in 1998, grossed $130 million in the US alone. The sequel fared no worse. Now Rush Hour 3 is ready for release. And he isn?t ready to call it a day. Why would he? ?I hope in Rush Hour 4 we will have a baby, and then in Rush Hour 5, my son will continue my job, Chris Tucker?s son will continue his, and we will stay in the office,? Chan is reported to have said on the red carpet of the Rush Hour 3 premiere in Los Angeles. Trust the man. It?s rather easy to see why Jackie Chan is unstoppable.