The Professional Vampire Hunter
by Joseph Fierro





It's almost too much to comprehend. The man who seemed to know it all, who was always in control, who could never know defeat, has passed away at only 46.

As the ever-popular super-Taoist priest, Lam Ching Ying was always facing the worst things that the evil spirits could throw at him, and no matter how badly his usually incompetent assistants managed to screw things up, he never panicked. He exuded a calm confidence that let you know that no matter what the dark side could conjure up, he would eventually prevail.

And so it seems rather inconceivable that something so harshly grounded in reality as liver cancer could take this man before his time. Of course, Lam Ching Ying was only acting and was proven to be quite mortal. But it speaks wonders about his acting ability that he made the audience believe he was as invincible as the Taoist masters he portrayed. There have been many fine actors who have played vampire-hunting priests, but they have all seemed like pretenders to Lam Ching Ying's throne. He will forever be identified as the one true vampire slayer.



[Lam with his disciple]
Lam and his disciple,Yung Tak Cheung



Many true fans of Lam Ching Ying might argue that his greatest success was also the worst thing that happened to his career. With the overwhelming success of Mr Vampire, both domestically and internationally, Lam Ching Ying became a recognizable face worldwide, but he also became typecast as the fiercely moral Taoist who could handle the undead. Yet those who followed Lam's career knew that he was a fine character actor who could handle a wide range of roles.

In the 70's he played faceless bad guys and henchmen, appearing briefly in Bruce Lee's international successes. By the 80's, he had made pals with the likes of Sammo Hung and was appearing in his ensemble pieces, including Close Encounters of the Spooky Kind (1980) which was his first appearance as the Taoist priest.

He finally started getting featured roles in the mid-80's. In Prodigal Son (1982), an effeminate Lam Ching Ying first defeats cocky Yuen Biao then teaches him Wing Chun with flair. Contrast that with Heroes Shed No Tears (1985), in which he plays a maniacal Vietnamese general, chewing scenery with every appearance. Then consider his performance in Lover's Tea (1991), a lovers-on-the-run movie, but it's Lam Ching Ying who is the most heartbreaking as the conflicted henchman who is assigned to secretly admires Nina Li Chi, the deaf mistress of his boss.

Finally, there's Red and Black (1991), a political and social commentary posing as a supernatural thriller. The film manages to work on both fronts mainly because Lam Ching Ying gives it resonance as a man of traditional Chinese values who is forsaken by his country during the Cultural Revolution. In the end, he must come to terms with his adopted brother who betrayed him, Tony Leung Ka-Fei, and the woman they both love. You might think Lam would be clearly overmatched in a love triangle with Tony Leung, but his finely nuanced performance makes Tony Leung the underdog.

It's easy to see why fans of Lam Ching Ying would resent those who saw the actor as merely the Taoist priest in the hopping vampire flicks. But I also think we shouldn't ignore the work he did in this capacity. After all, it represents a large body of his work, and it's a role he clearly enjoyed playing. In fact, it was only after watching a multitude of movies in which Lam Ching Ying seemed to play the same role that I began to truly appreciate his finest quality --- professionalism.

Many actors who became typecast like Vincent Price, Anthony Perkins (Psycho), and even Master Kwan Tak-Hing inevitably began to sleepwalk through their roles. It's perfectly understandable and perhaps even preferable to trying to do something different with the role to the point of becoming a distraction. What made Lam Ching Ying different was that he always gave it his all, never appearing bored, but also content to stay within his character.

To be sure, when given the chance to offer a slightly different take on his super-Taoist character, he seized the opportunity. In Magic Cop(1989), he plays a super-Taoist cop in modern-day Hong Kong called in to solve a series of supernatural killings. Sporting a severe haircut and huge eyebrows, he makes believers of the doubting cops who are partnered with him, and by the end of the film, the audience begins to believe that demons and vampires aren't just limited to feudal China. Lam Ching Ying doesn't just come across as a Taoist priest dressed as a cop, he alters his character just enough so you know this guy can function in modern society. The action in this movie is great, too; not too surprising given that it was designed by Lam Ching Ying, a fine action choreographer in his own right. All together, this is one of those unique Hong Kong gems that is a must see for any fan of the genre.

While Pom Pom & Hot Hot(1992) is nowhere near as fine as Magic Cop, it does feature Lam Ching Ying in a similar modern-day version of his knowledgeable expert, this time as a God of Guns who also happens to be the boss of comedic cops Jacky Cheung and Stephen Tung Wai. The movie focuses on the standard buddy cop adventures of these two until the final 15 minutes of the movie when Lam Ching Ying must square off against and equally gifted master of guns. The result is easily one the best gun battles ever put on film, putting to shame anything John Woo ever did. There is no one who has ever seen this film who does not want to be the ultra-cool Lam Ching Ying.


[Lam's movie]
Lam in his early movies



But even when Lam Ching Ying was stuck playing the same old Taoist priest character for the umpteenth time, he was still a pleasure to watch. He made average films like Forced Nightmare, Money Maker, and Spiritual Trinity enjoyable. And even in total garbage like Magic Umbrella, he was still a professional. While his co-stars are just collecting a paycheck and seem embarrassed to even be in the picture, Lam Ching Ying does the same top-notch job he did in any of his other films.

And that is why I am going to miss Lam Ching Ying. Sure, he was a great actor, but it goes beyond that. He actually seemed to care about his performance, and about the audience enjoyment. It didn't matter if it was Category III drivel or a Sammo Hung extravaganza, he treated it as though it were his first big break.

Lam Ching Ying wasn't all-knowing. He wasn't immortal. He was better. He had dignity.

And when evil spirits flow from the gates of hell, and the pillars of heaven shake, and you are surrounded by the undead, who would you rather have by your side?





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