3 back-flipping-kung-fu-fighting-pandas out of 4
Most critics will suggest a distinction between art created for mass consumption and art created for the consumption of artists. Art for art’s sake is ineffable—it’s the pinnacle of human achievement and represents the kind of human creation meant to shape and propel the species into new understandings of the universe. Art is meant to be appreciated, consumed, critiqued, considered, and swallowed into the very fiber of one’s being.
Kung Fu Panda 3 is not one such movie, but I don’t care because I loved every single moment of it.
It’s true that Kung Fu Panda is a franchise specifically designed to cater to less discerning palettes. After all, the franchise stars Jack Black as a kung fu loving panda who must try incredibly hard to impress and please others. A harsher critic would suggest that Po the panda represents the culmination of Black’s career—a comedian-cum-dramatist whose comedy is impure and whose drama is sterile. Yet again, I don’t care, because I have loved every single moment of every single Kung Fu Panda film.
Why do I display such ardent attachment to a franchise in which talking animals face-off against one another in martial arts duels? Why do I seek to defend a film trilogy in which Chinese slapstick comedy—inspired no doubt by the work of filmmakers like Jackie Chan—is so poorly edited alongside traditional American filmmaking? The answer lies in the question: it all looks, sounds, and feels so cool, even if the main character can be often grating.
Furthermore, there’s a level of self-awareness present in the Kung Fu Panda franchise that borders on maudlin, but that never seems to overstay its welcome. This third entry into the franchise further pushes back against expectations and source material influences. That is to say, if comedy is meant to highlight the absurd in the mundanity of daily life, Kung Fu Panda 3 highlights the mundane in the absurdity of kung fu action cinema.
Returning to the franchise are Jack Black, Dustin Hoffman, James Hong, and Angelina Jolie. Once again, Jackie Chan, Lucy Liu, David Cross, and Seth Rogen are given roles that would otherwise be considered cameos, if their characters weren’t deemed integral to the central plot. J.K. Simmons joins the cast as yet another villain whose entire arc is dependent on a direct relationship to a member of the principle cast. This time, Kai—an ox, and former ally to the now-deceased Master Oogway—emerges as a spiritual force of chi out to conquer the world.
There’s sparse plot here, of this there can be no doubt. Po finally reunites with his panda father and his panda family. Mr. Ping—the crane who adopted Po as an infant—vies for his son’s attention, but this is no melodrama. Eventually, Mr. Ping and Bryan Cranston’s Li Shen resolve their differences and come to the conclusion that two fathers are better than none. It’s a happy ending that should come as no surprise.
Where Kung Fu Panda 3 succeeds is in its determination to draw as many laughs as possible from its audience. In moments where the movie’s comedy becomes unbearable, the film’s goal becomes one of pure spectacle. Kung Fu Panda 3 looks incredible, it sounds even better, and the manner in which it combines traditional computer animation with two-dimensional ink brush painting is sublime. Jennifer Yuh Nelson—who directed the second entry in the franchise—returns, and is joined by Alessandro Carloni as a co-director. Hans Zimmer—the franchise’s composer—returns to deliver his eclectic mix of Eastern and Western musical philosophies. Once again, Zimmer’s work on the franchise is some of his career’s best.
As I draw to a close, I once again return to the eternal debate of art for consumption vs. art for art’s sake. Kung Fu Panda 3 is no way meant to redefine the genre—after all, its mere existence is genre redefining to begin with. It’s wholesome, family-friendly, easily consumed entertainment. The film is sometimes funny, sometimes annoying, but always entertaining. Indeed, it’s a franchise that practically prints money, which means that one can probably expect a sequel within the next few years—if not a Tigress spinoff to satiate the hungry.
If one must hold out hope for the generation of artists raised on the adventures of Po, one must look no further than the generation of artists raised on the works of Akira Kurosawa, Lo Wei, Tsui Hark, and Yasujiro Ozu. It doesn’t take much to inspire—all it takes is a plucky panda with grit, determination, and immeasurable amounts of luck.