‘Tuxedo’ takes away from Chan charm

Dennis Piszkiewicz

Jackie Chan became an international star by churning out

low-budget action movies. What made them special was that he did all

of his own incredible acrobatic, gymnastic and martial arts stunts,

and that he infused his films with his charm and humor. Then Chan

discovered Hollywood -- or vice versa -- and he began making

big-budget movies. Unfortunately his latest offering, “Tuxedo,” shows

once again that bigger is not always better.

In “Tuxedo,” Chan’s character blends elements of the screen

personas of Woody Allen and James Bond. Chan portrays Jimmy Tong, a

lovable, insecure everyman who makes his living as a cab driver. He

is obsessed with meeting a beautiful woman he admires from afar; but

before he gets up the nerve to ask for a date, he is hired as a

chauffeur for the top agent of one of those U.S. government agencies

that has a three-letter acronym for a name and the responsibility for

saving the world.

The agent is soon injured in action and turns over to Jimmy Tong

his TUX, short for Tactical Uniform eXperimental, which gives its

wearer the athletic prowess of a comic book superhero. Jimmy Tong,

armed with the abilities built into his tuxedo, then begins his

mission to stop a villain who wants to dominate the world by

monopolizing the supply of clean drinking water.

Chan is paired with Jennifer Love Hewitt, as a rookie agent, who

is decorative, humorless, and unconvincing in her action scenes.

James Brown, the Godfather of soul and the hardest working man in

show business, is wasted in a cameo in which he delivers a few lines

of dialogue before Chan’s character accidentally knocks him out and

takes his place on stage. Chan’s parody of Brown is no substitute for

the real thing, and what the scene has to do with the plot is

anybody’s guess.

“Tuxedo’s” biggest problems, though, are its lack of both the

humor we expect from Chan and the nonstop stunts that made him

famous. The special effects and digital image processing further

diminish the image of Chan as an action hero. Who really did the

stunts? Was that Chan pounding away at the bad guys or was someone

else pounding a computer keyboard?

Chan has been at it for a long time. He has probably figured out

that his body, like that of any professional athlete, will not last

forever. It is time for him to cash in before his reflexes slow down

and his broken bones no longer knit. But if he wants to stay in the

movie business, he is going to have to replace his stunts with

something else, such as better stories or roles with more depth.

* DENNIS PISZKIEWICZ is a Laguna Beach resident and a published

history and biography author.