Kung Fu flicks will cure the blues

Kung Fu (2), originally uploaded by BrainErp.

“You will always be your child’s favorite toy.” – Vicki Lansky

“Everyone was Kung Fu fighting.” – singer Carl Douglas

By Amanda Gillooly

Some people head for church when they need a little reassurance after a rough week. Some people (mostly my close family and friends) head for the nearest bar stool.

While beer has always been a friend of mine, and Sir Harold the Great of River City Inn is always kind to me, after a day of worrying about work and handling the embarrassment that inevitably comes from a quasi-date blow-off, I seek out neither alcohol nor God.

Sometimes I just need my Dad. Unlike some of my contemporaries, who bemoan having to chat with the ‘rents, I seek out dear old dad. He knows where the center of the earth is, if you know what I mean.

And when I rush through the door, red-faced and Irish temper raging, he knows I don’t need reassurance or any sort of smoke blown up any orifice. Nope, Dad knows I need something far more important. Far more inspiring. Far less complicated.

Sometimes all I need is some Kung Fu. And if you ever stayed up late on a Saturday nights watching the “it’s-so-ridiculous-it’s-awesome” black-and-white Kung Fu flicks with your dad as a small child, you know as well as I do the therapeutic benefits.

I happen to love the genre because of its winning combination of arse-kicking martial arts, silly premises and really horrific dubbing.

Yesterday, while sharing a hot cup of Joe (black, Dad’s signature beverage), the subject of those nights watching Kung Fu came up in conversation and he said something I hadn’t thought of before.

“You know, I love it that ANYTHING – no matter how stupid – can be made into a Kung Fu flick,” he told me.

And while I was inclined to believe him, he did me one better. He told me about a movie starring the great Christopher Lee. If anyone else told me there was a movie about a Chinese, butt-kicking Dracula, I might have thought they were trying to take advantage of my admitted gullibility.

But I know Dad wouldn’t bust my chops about something so important to my quality of life.

Dad couldn’t remember the exact name of the film – it’s circa 1960-something – so I need a little bit of help finding the thing. And then owning it immediately.

I mean, come on, man. A Kung Fu horror movie? Dude, where has this movie been all my life.

He thinks it was called “Curse of the Golden Vampire” or something. I haven’t yet embarked on a Google quest; so if you happen across the movie (or one like it), please let me know.

Because I’m into it. And I’m sure my dad would appreciate it, too.