Zen
Buddhism, as practitioners and theological scholars will
be aware, offers a path to inner enlightenment through mediation.
Scholar Mei Yeung-Sheng (Lawrence Ng), the lead character
in Michael Mak's Sex and Zen, appears to
take a different view. For him enlightenment is something
to be sought through copulation. Lots of it, and with as
many women as possible. He makes this decision after visiting
and disagreeing with a wise old sage known as the Cotton
Sack Monk, so called for the cotton sack he carries with
him wherever he goes. And the fact that he's a monk. His
actual name is Lonely Hill, but that doesn't clarify anything.
Cotton Sack warns Mei of the perils of adultery. Karma.
What goes around, comes around, that sort of thing. But
Mei is not to be dissuaded. Or so is he? A very short while
later he marries the beautiful young Huk-Yeung (Amy Yip),
and after a disastrous wedding night (she thinks sex is
disgusting, he nearly cuts off his Johnson with a knife)
the two are at it like rabbits on aphrodisiacs.

Now
this sort of arrangement would be enough for most men, especially
given Huk-Yeung's captivating beauty and new-found enthusiasm
for just about any position she can get herself into, but
not Scholar Mei. Accompanied by his unfortunate servant,
he embarks on his original quest, to search of sexual enlightenment
by seducing as many women as possible. It has to be said
that his pick-up technique is not too sharp, and involves
handing his target a book of explicitly erotic drawings
and asking her if she dropped it. What a charmer. To assist
him in his conquests, he enlists the help of Choi Kunlun
(Lo Lieh), the famous Flying Thief. Oh come on, you must
have heard of him. After first robbing Mei and then paying
him back with interest, Choi agrees to help, but on discovering
that this would-be ladykiller is short on stamina and equipped
with a toothpick sized penis, he opts out of the deal. Mei
would have to be hung like a horse before Choi would get
involved in such a venture. Can you see where this is heading?
If you're thinking in terms of realistic plots and characters,
probably not. Well for Mei there's only one solution. Chance
lands him in the care of heavy drinking Doctor Tin Chan
(Kent Cheng), a man skilled in repairing injured limbs who
has been studying the process of transplanting an animal
penis onto a human. NOW can you guess where this is heading?
Mei wants a horse's dick, and Chan is the man to supply
him with one.
Now
I should point out that we've reached this stage in the
busy and fast paced narrative via quite a bit of sex, all
of it softcore but some of it bordering on a stronger classification,
notably Huk-Yeung's creative approach to calligraphy (it's
not what she writes, but how she holds the brush) and an
eye-popping sequence involving two ladies and a flute. But
it's also played for laughs. Mei's wedding night in particular
is a catalogue of misadventures, and he only ends up at
Chan's after attempting to cut off his undersized member
and accidentally stabbing his servant in the crotch. Checking
the damage, he is horrified not but the wound, but that
even his lowly servant is better endowed than him.
But
in the transplant scene the film throws all caution to the
dogs and becomes almost Carry on Cockswap
as directed by Farrelly Brothers. Taste is not an issue,
and there are moments here seemingly designed to prompt
male viewers to cross their legs (and clamp their mouths
shut) in horror. From here on in reality takes a seat in
another room as Mei puts his ludicrously oversized appendage
to use, delivering new levels to pleasure to women who by
some miracle escape organ damage having their teeth dislodged.

Adapted from Li Yu's notorious novel The Carnal
Prayer Mat (the original Chinese title of this
film, Rou pu tuan zhi tou qing bao jian,
refers to the book and the adapted story, or so a Chinese
friend assures me), which was written some time during the
Ming Dynasty and banned in China for 400 years, Sex
and Zen is on the surface a celebration of sex
at its most energetic and adventurous, the frequently and
enthusiastically indulged in activity employing everything
from stirrups and chains to ladders and whips. Food is also
part of the mix, borrowing a memorable snacking scene from
Ai no Corrida and using bread in a way
that might put you of sandwiches for life. It's softcore
porn with a risqué edge, but done with humour, imagination
and a little bit of class. The girls are hot, even the guys
look good, and the photography and set dressing are gorgeous,
easily the equal of the most polished mainstream period
piece.
And
yet...
Sex
and Zen has plenty of cake, but it wants to eat
it too, and leaves us with the message - if you're planning
to watch the film primarily for its plot (yeah, right) you
might want to skip this paragraph - that the Cotton Sack
Monk was right after all, that all these sexual adventures
lead only to disaster and suffering. A film that trades
on its erotic content and whose main raison d'être
is to sexually excite the viewer turns out to be pro-monogamy
and even celibacy. After showing us how much fun sex can
be, it suggests that in this way lies ruin. Although this
does make for a more dramatically interesting ending, it's
unlikely to cut too much ice with those who have been drooling
over the earlier adventures.
A
bigger problem for many, myself included, will be the textile
shop owner and his treatment of his wife. Set up as the
film's bad guy and a crucial cog in the mechanism that brings
the narrative to such a moral conclusion, he is first observed
by Mei, Choi and us losing his rag with his wife and then
raping her. The scene has dramatic purpose, sure, but is
presented as an erotic, slightly comic spectacle in the
same manner as other such set-pieces, with little concern
for the context in which it is taking place. It's a memorable
scene, but for all the wrong reasons. And I can't be the
only one who, even in the context of a light-hearted sex
film, has trouble with the suggestion that what this abused
wife really wants when her husband is away is to be seduced
by a man with a 3-foot dick.
SOUND AND VISION
One
of Hong Kong Legends' Ultrabit titles, Sex and Zen
justifies the banner. A sharp transfer with very nice colour
rendition and contrast and hardly a dust mark or compression
artefact in sight. It really does justice to Hung Poon Hung
Poon's lush cinematography. Occasionally it feels as if
the brightness is up a bit, but never to the transfer's
detriment. The framing is 1.85:1 and the picture is anamorphically
enhanced.

The original Chinese mono is included, and it's rather good,
but the 5.1 remix is nicer, better serving the music, dialogue
and sound effects. The surrounds aren't very active, but
the clarity and quality still give it the edge over the
mono track. The front separation is good in places. The
5.1 American English dub isn't that bad as these things
go.
EXTRA FEATURES
No
commentary? I'm not exactly surprised, although it amuses
me to imagine what it would have consisted of and how it
would have been delivered. No, it's an Ultrabit disc, so
all we get is A Lot of Sex, A Little Zen,
a detailed essay on the film from the Stefan Hammond, co-author
of Sex and Zen and a Bullet in the Head - the Essential
Guide to Hong Kong's Mind-bending Films. The first
half of plot is outlined in considerable detail, so save
this one for afterwards.
SUMMARY
Sex
and Zen is, for the most part, a film that lives
up to its steamy reputation and is erotic and fun and a
little bit outrageous. The conflict between message and
delivery doesn't really harm the film, but I'm still not
happy about that scene with the textile shop owner and his
wife, an ugly grub in an otherwise rather nice ointment.
Once again this Hong Kong Legends Ultrabit disc is an extra
features wasteland, but the transfer is lovely enough to
keep fans of the film happy.