The Jade Pendant: Los Angeles at its Most Infamous

Los Angeles has a long history of riots, going back to at least the Nineteenth Century. Who better to helm this pre-Exclusionary Act melodrama, culminating in the 1871 mass Chinese lynchings than British-HK director Po-Chih Leong. Arguably, his knack for straddling cultures makes him a logical choice, but casting South Korean Clara Lee in the lead is bound to rile the authenticity police. Given the subject matter, the cosmetics of it are admittedly a little awkward, but there is no getting around the fact she is the best thing going for Leong’s The Jade Pendant (trailer here), which releases today on DVD.

Fleeing an abusive arranged marriage, Ying Ying Leung and her best friend Lily agree to a five-year term of indentured service, in return to passage to San Francisco. They believe they will be working in a flower shop, but of course it is a brothel. Leung is renamed Peony, but Lily conveniently stays Lily. However, unlike the other girls there, Leung can read and write both English and apparently Mandarin. She can understand her contract and assert her rights. She never agreed to be a prostitute, but she still owes fives years of service, so Madame Pong, much to her own surprise, assigns her housekeeping duties. Needless to say, this does not sit well with Yu Hing, the big Tong boss, who wants Peony for himself.

Eventually, Peony will start romancing Tom Wong, a prodigal prospector, who has had better luck slinging chop suey. They even start building a life together in Los Angeles after Madame Pong grants Peony her independence, as a means of asserting her own. Yet, they cannot abandon Lily, who bears the brunt of Yu Hing’s abuse. Nor is he willing to let Peony go, especially since she reminds him of his late wife, who committed suicide to escape him.

As the titular accessory-wearing Peony, Clara Lee is mostly a satisfyingly dynamic and charismatic Western heroine. Still, it is frustrating to see her suffering from Alex Rodriguez Syndrome, in which her martial arts are at their highest when the stakes are negligible, but during times of crisis, she can hardly punch straight. She has okay chemistry with Taiwanese Godfrey Gao’s Wong, but her best scenes are played with Madame Pong, played with tart dignity by Tsai Chin. They have an intriguing relationship that wears well over the course of the film. As Yu, Tzi Ma chews the scenery with fair degree of relish, but it is difficult to buy his ultra-bad martial arts sequences.

As you might have deduced, Jade Pendant has serious consistency issues, careening from a scruffy Kung Fu throw-down to an awkward issue-driven film at the drop of a ten-gallon hat. Arguably, co-screenwriters David Assael and Scott Rosenfelt simplify the racial politics of the riots, painting them as white versus Asian, overlooking Hispanic participation in the killings. Frankly, the whole ugly incident vindicates San Francisco’s Inspector “Dirty” Harry Callahan, because the eight men convicted for manslaughter had their sentences over-turned on technicalities.

Leong has produced a disparate body of work, including a fair amount of TV work in Hollywood, his noir calling card Ping Pong, and most recently the tonally confused HK horror movie, Baby Blues. Jade Pendant makes it even more erratic. Yet, even when it is problematically exploitive, it is weirdly watchable. Not a priority, unless you are a die-hard Clara Lee or Godfrey Gao fan, The Jade Pendant releases today on DVD.

Baby Blues: Devil Doll on a Gloomy Sunday

Known as the “Hungarian Suicide Song,” Rezső Seress’s “Gloomy Sunday” has become the stuff of urban legend, but the only suicide that can be directly linked to it was that of its songwriter.  That makes it quite an odd choice for a producer to update for the biggest star on his roster, but it was not entirely Hao’s idea. He had help from the devil doll left behind in his new home. The sinister ragamuffin will be a malevolent influence on Hao’s new family, especially his wife in Po-chih Leong’s Baby Blues (trailer here), which releases today on DVD and VOD from Well Go USA.

Hao and his pregnant wife Tian Qing have just purchased a spectacular new home for a veritable song. The only drawback seems to be the homeless guy camped across the street, who is always yelling spooky warnings. For some reason, they hardly notice him, but she finds the creepy doll utterly charming. Unfortunately, it seems he is a “Jimi doll,” who drove the previous owners to bad ends. Even though accidents mysteriously follow Hao’s reworked song, now known as “The Intruder,” the mega-popular Ying Lan digs its edginess. Everything seems to be going right for the couple, until it is time to deliver her twins. Adam will make it, but Jimmy will not. However, this leaves a vacuum for the Jimi doll to fill.

Of course, the doctors assure Hao his wife is simply suffering from postpartum depression and perhaps he is as well. Nonetheless, he and Tian Qing’s tomboy sister Trinket soon suspect something weirder is afoot. Eventually, they even start paying attention to the old cat’s jibber-jabbering.

Yes, Baby Blues owes an obvious “debt” to the Chucky franchise, but it actually has several additional supernatural hooks that often compete with each other. The “Gloomy Sunday” references are actually pretty clever and cool, while the recurring twin motif is rather creepy. Yet, all mixed together they collectively undermine what Poe called the “unity of effect.” There are also loose ends and blind alleys all over the place. Still, one would sort of like to see Keira Knightly and Adam Levine remake the film as “Can a Song End Your Life.”

Beyond the on-screen action, Baby Blues generated considerable interest as the first film co-starring real life couple Raymond Lam and Karena Ng. However, perhaps shrewdly, they do not share any romantic scenes as Hao and Trinket. Without question, Ng gets the better of the deal, proving well suited to the mettlesome sister. In contrast, Lam’s Hao is a bit wooden, saddled with the intuition of cold porridge. At least newcomer Janelle Sing goes nuts pretty convincingly, while Kate Tsui clearly enjoys preening through the film as Ying Lan.

Baby Blues is also the British-born, Los Angeles-based Leong’s first HK production in two decades. It is odd choice of project to lure him back, but it was probably a guaranteed money maker. There are indeed some surprisingly big names attached to this straight forward genre outing, including Irene Wan, who makes the most of her third act near-cameo.

As horror films go, Baby Blues is certainly presentable. Genre fans will appreciate the ways it tweaks various conventions, but the killer doll effects do not meet the industry standard. Leong does not have a particularly strong feel for the requisite mood either, but the veteran cast knuckles down and powers through. The result is a mish-mash, but it has its moments. For fans of HK horror, Baby Blues is now available on DVD, BluRay, and VOD from Well Go USA.