Title: Lam Ching-ying’s Those Merry Souls (1985): A Cult Classic Bridging Spiritual Absurdity and Humanistic Comedy
For international audiences captivated by the golden era of Hong Kong cinema, Those Merry Souls (時來運轉, 1985) stands as a hidden gem that defies genre conventions. Directed by Lau Kar-wing and starring Lam Ching-ying alongside action icons like Sammo Hung, Yuen Biao, and Eric Tsang, this film blends supernatural folklore, slapstick humor, and existential philosophy into a uniquely chaotic narrative. While Lam is globally celebrated for his stoic Daoist priest roles in Mr. Vampire (1985) or The Legend of Wong Tai Sin (1992), Those Merry Souls reveals a darker, more absurdist side of his artistry. Below, we unpack why this film deserves rediscovery as both a cultural time capsule and a subversive commentary on fate and free will.
- Cultural Hybridity: Daoist Cosmology Meets Workplace Satire
At its core, Those Merry Souls reimagines the Chinese afterlife as a bureaucratic nightmare. The film’s premise revolves around two fathers: Zhao (Feng Tsui-fan), a grim reaper tasked with collecting souls for the underworld, and Uncle Ying (Lam Ching-ying), a folk sorcerer who bargains with deities to extend human lifespans . Their sons—stuntmen Zhao Zilong (Yuen Biao) and Wu Guide (Eric Tsang)—become entangled in a cosmic farce when Zhao’s father disrupts the natural order to save Wu’s life, triggering a chain of karmic consequences .
The film’s portrayal of the underworld as a rigid, rule-bound institution mirrors critiques of modern bureaucracy. For instance, Zhao’s job as a “soul collector” involves clocking in with a timecard and adhering to quotas—a darkly comic metaphor for Hong Kong’s capitalist grind in the 1980s . Lam’s character, meanwhile, embodies the tension between tradition and modernity. His rituals—mixing incantations with pragmatic negotiations with ghosts—reflect a society clinging to spiritual roots while navigating rapid urbanization.
- Lam Ching-ying’s Subversive Role: Beyond the Daoist Priest
Unlike his iconic roles as a moral authority figure, Lam’s Uncle Ying here is a morally ambiguous trickster. He uses his mystical skills not to vanquish evil but to manipulate cosmic rules for personal gain, such as stealing “life years” from others to prolong his son’s lifespan . This complexity adds depth to Lam’s filmography, showcasing his ability to portray characters who straddle the line between hero and opportunist.
A standout scene involves Lam performing a ritual to deceive the underworld, blending incantations with sleight-of-hand tricks. The sequence—lit by flickering candles and punctuated by dark humor—subverts the solemnity of traditional Daoist ceremonies, suggesting that spirituality itself is a performance . This aligns with the film’s broader theme: the absurdity of trying to control fate in a universe governed by chaos.
- Visual and Narrative Absurdity: Peking Opera Meets Slapstick
The film’s aesthetic borrows from Peking opera’s exaggerated movements and vibrant costumes, particularly in scenes depicting the underworld. Ghostly bureaucrats wear grotesque makeup reminiscent of opera villains, while fight sequences blend acrobatics with Looney Tunes-esque physical comedy . For example, Yuen Biao’s character, forced into his father’s soul-reaping job, stumbles through his duties with the clumsiness of a rookie office worker—a hilarious juxtaposition of supernatural gravitas and human ineptitude.
Director Lau Kar-wing (a frequent collaborator of Sammo Hung) infuses the narrative with meta-commentary on Hong Kong’s film industry. The protagonists’ careers as stuntmen—risking their lives for trivial action scenes—mirror the exploitative realities of 1980s cinema . A scene where Eric Tsang’s character nearly dies filming a poorly planned jump stunt critiques the industry’s disregard for worker safety, all while parodying Jackie Chan’s infamous Project A (1983) clock tower sequence .
- Existential Themes: Fate, Filial Duty, and Moral Ambiguity
Beneath its comedic surface, Those Merry Souls grapples with existential questions. Zhao’s father sacrifices his afterlife to save his son, only to doom Zhao to inherit his grim reaper role—a cycle of generational obligation echoing Greek tragedies . Meanwhile, Lam’s character justifies ethical transgressions (e.g., stealing lifespans) as acts of paternal love, blurring the line between heroism and selfishness.
The film’s climax—a chaotic battle between soul collectors, sorcerers, and vengeful spirits—culminates in a bleakly poetic resolution: Zhao accepts his fate as a grim reaper, while Lam’s character vanishes into the shadows, his moral ledger left unsettled. This refusal to provide tidy moral answers distinguishes the film from typical “good vs. evil” narratives in Hong Kong horror .
- Why International Audiences Should Watch
- Cultural Insight: The film demystifies Daoist concepts like yuanfen (destiny) and yinyang balance through absurdist humor.
- Genre Innovation: It predates postmodern hybrids like Beetlejuice (1988) in blending bureaucracy satire with supernatural themes.
- Lam Ching-ying’s Range: A departure from his saintly personas, this role highlights his versatility in antiheroic roles.
- Historical Context: Reflects 1980s Hong Kong anxieties about identity and colonial transition through allegory .
Conclusion: A Dark Mirror to Hong Kong’s Golden Age
-Those Merry Souls* is more than a cult oddity—it’s a philosophical dark comedy that questions whether humans can ever outwit destiny. Lam Ching-ying’s layered performance anchors its tonal shifts, from slapstick to melancholy, while its critique of systemic exploitation resonates globally in an age of corporate dystopias.
For Western viewers, the film offers a gateway to Hong Kong cinema’s lesser-known experimental side—where ghost stories and workplace satire collide, and even grim reapers punch the clock. As Lam’s Uncle Ying quips during a ritual: “Heaven’s rules are just paperwork. Burn it, and maybe the gods won’t notice.” In a world obsessed with control, this film reminds us that chaos—and dark laughter—might be the only salvation.