For the last few years, I have used October to give myself a viewing assignment: a different horror film each day. Now that I have escaped the real life horror of New Zealand’s public service, I intend to write a piece inspired by each film.
My eighteenth film is Ricky Lau’s Encounters of the Spooky Kind II / 鬼咬鬼 (1989).
Nine-years after the jiāngshī film was born in earnest with Sammo Hung’s Encounters of the Spooky Kind came its nominal sequel. To call Encounters of the Spooky Kind II (directed by Ricky Lau of Mr. Vampire II fame) a jiāngshī film is a bit of a misnomer. The hopping ‘vampires’ appear in an opening set-piece but this is mostly a film about a battle of wills between two magicians: Lam Ching-Ying’s prolific Taoist priest and a 'black magic’ sorcerer played by Huang Ha.
One of the things that I enjoy most about these films is the syncretic approach they take to religion. While western horror films are typically based on a Catholic or Protestant conception of good-versus-evil, Hong Kong cinema has room for more points of view. The goodies (usually including Lam) may be Taoist but the Buddhist or Christian or even Indigenous religious figures tend to represent competing schools of magic rather than irreconcilable points of view.
Here, the sorcerer draws upon various forms of magic. A lot of the iconography suggests Voodoo influences (and he summons a couple of zombies at one point) but he also employs snake men, poison from Yunnan and kung fu mummies. His magic uses skulls and cockroaches and leeches and body-swapping, whatever is going to make for the best set piece at a given moment. Hung returns for this film as Lam’s bumbling disciple (and skilled martial artist of course) and gets most of the screen time. They are joined by a powerful (and sexy) Chinese ghost, a recurring figure that often shows up in these films.
By the late 80s, jiāngshī films were getting cheaper and sloppier but Encounters of the Spooky Kind II is still reasonably polished. Lam wasn’t in the business of turning down roles (and he’s often the best thing about bad jiāngshī films) but the presence of Hung and Lau adds some competence. The stunts are some of the best I’ve seen in one of these films and Lau uses the classic Hong Kong technique of slow-motion replays on a few of the riskier ones. The jokes are excellent with a shout-out to the jiāngshī who rises from the dead and immediately hits the opium pipe. Of course, there’s always Lam as well and he is at his deadpan best here.