‘Sex and Zen’ or — Tickled Pink?
If what I’m writing this morning contains even more spelling mistekes than usual that’s only because every single muscle in my entire body is still recovering from having laughed so hard at ‘Sex and Zen’ (1991) last night, a movie that might just be the most gut-bustlingly hysterical sex comedy ever made. Where to even begin with this piece of deranged insanity?! Okay, let’s start with the plot.
Lecherous and perma-horny young scholar, Mei Yeung-Sheng (Lawrence Ng), is determined to have sex with as many women as possible before his wedding night so seeks advice from a master thief, Choi Kun-Lun (Lo Lieh), as to how to seduce other men’s wives. Choi informs Mei that teaching him is impossible because Mei isn’t well-endowed enough to successfully seduce anyone and to only come back for training when he has an appendage as big as a horse’s.
Choi, and especially the audience, is somewhat shocked when, after a visit to an organ replacement doctor, Mei does indeed return with an appendage as big as a horse’s but that’s because his new appendage actually is… okay, I’d better stop there as, from here on out, ‘Sex and Zen’ only gets CRAZIER (yeah, I know) as Mei engages in a series of increasingly insane sexual encounters that shouldn’t be described in polite society. But, dear god, they’re funny as hell.
What makes ‘Sex and Zen’ really stand out from similar Hong Kong Cat III sex films such as the ‘Erotic Ghost Story’ trilogy is that it does an excellent job at integrating the sex and nudity into its narrative and, more importantly, the comedy. This means the film never grinds to a halt for the eroticism because whenever copulation does occur it’s explicitly staged for massive laughs rather than titilation, so we actually end up looking forward to the next sex scene with eager anticipation (what the hell are they going to get up to now?!) as opposed to only something to endure.
This daft humour gives ‘Sex and Zen’ a similar vibe and feel to the ‘Confession of a Window Cleaner’ (1974) movies except it’s possibly even funnier and definitely more outrageous.
The other big difference between this and the British sex comedies is that ‘Sex and Zen’ had a pretty serious budget behind it allowing for some absolutely spectacular production values, specifically in terms of set and costume design. The entire screen is a constant ecstatic flurry of coral pinks, lush apricots, vivid cinnabars, cool ceruleans and spectral whites, and when you combine all that with some seriously energetic directing and editing the effect is an experience as vigorous as it is irresistibly alluring.
‘Sex and Zen’ isn’t a movie for everyone, but I challenge anyone to sit through it with a straight face or without collapsing into a fit of uncontrolable giggles. It was a big financial success on its release, and it’s easy to see why because the only aspect that’s potentially illegal about ‘Sex and Zen’ is how unfathomably, almost unquantifiably, entertaining the silly thing is.
