Maybe what it takes to fully enjoy Bulletproof Monk is an appreciation of '80s and '90s Hong Kong martial arts flicks. If that's the case, I don't have the necessary prerequisites. Outside of the moments of kinetic madness that represent the action sequences, this movie is an amalgamation of lame comedy, campy Eastern mysticism (or, as one character puts it, "fortune cookie philosophy"), and dumb plotting. Admittedly, in a film like this, one has to cut the screenwriters some slack, since reality isn't what they're trying to achieve. But there is an invisible line across which even the silliest movies cannot traverse if they want to keep their audiences, and Bulletproof Monk crosses it. The story's entire foundation is based upon a plot hole so gargantuan that anyone not suffering a brain cramp will identify it at once.
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