Good news, fanboys and fangirls: the fists and feet still fly furiously in Stephen Chow's latest martial arts extravaganza, KUNG FU HUSTLE. And even better -- thanks to the presence of Sony Pictures Classics in the title cards, the budgets are bigger, the cast is larger, the sets are more impressive, and the special effects often approach those dizzying heights that the writer/director/star is now internationally famous for, thanks to his breakthrough 2001 hit Shaolin Soccer. With everything getting bigger and grander in Chow's singularly unique universe, it's easy to overlook one small, pesky detail...that KUNG FU HUSTLE is less satisfying than its predecessors.

Chow has always mixed comedy and action together in equal parts, and then spritzed the entire concoction with a little drama for effect. In KUNG FU HUSTLE, however, the ingredients are rearranged: an extra cup of tepid drama takes a bit of the fizzy buzz out of the proceedings. HUSTLE reveals what a precarious balancing act Chow's films are...how delicate it is to keep all of his genre plates up in the air and spinning simultaneously. Equal parts John Ford, Bruce Lee and Quentin Tarantino, it's an amazing feat of cinematic wizardry; Chow's large ensemble scenes evoke everything from The Godfather to The Matrix, if Baz Luhrmann had directed them. Whereas those films and directors created seamless visions, however, the cracks in Chow's dazzling surface are finally starting to show.

Set in a pre-Communist China overrun with gangsters and heroes, KUNG FU HUSTLE is concerned with the denizens of Pig Sty Alley, a wayward home for the downtrodden so cinematically self-referential it might have been stolen from the tykes of Oliver. When the murderous Axe Gang tries to extort the residents of Pig Sty, it's up to Sing (Chow) and a number of super-powered citizens to defend their homes. And defend it they do, in exemplary fashion, including battles against supernatural zither players and tornadoes made (literally) of bad guys.

While the fight choreography is astounding and the camera work is elegantly witty, the performances in KUNG FU HUSTLE are what really distinguish it from other big-budget martial arts flicks. In addition to the magnetic and genial Chow, Hong Kong legend Yuen Wah brings a gentle humor to Pig Sty's crusty, libidinous Landlord, and Lam Tze Chung's dopey sidekick is the perfect Abbott to Chow's Costello. James Bond fanatics will recognize Yuen Qiu -- the first Asian Bond girl in history, in 1974's The Man with the Golden Gun -- who ramps up the surly, lowbrow Landlady with enough energy to power at least four films.

It's relatively certain that Chow fans will not be disappointed by KUNG FU HUSTLE; whether it is the worldwide smash that Chow (and Sony Pictures) are hoping for remains to be seen. Such a transient, ephemeral pleasure lacks the weight that creates true legacy. I realize this is a review, but let me equivocate on the thumbs-up, thumbs-down thing: KUNG FU HUSTLE is a guaranteed good time at Chow's kaleidoscopic state fair. But it has all the lasting resonance of cotton candy.

-- Gabriel Shanks