MONKEY
Masaaki Sakai, Toshiyuki Nishida, Shir? Kishibe, Masako Natsume
Based on the Chinese folk tales by Wu Ch'eng-en,
Translated by Arthur Waley
NTV
A lecherous swine, a stuffy drip, a boorish ape, a tranny priest, riding a
dragon/horse/girl/man, and The Greatest Piece of Music Ever Committed To Tape.
Every culture has its version of The Great Journey tale. Whether it's Homer's Odyssey, the Pilgrim's Progress, or Jack Kerouac, every flavour of humanity is fascinated by stories of great expeditions and new frontiers. The need to quest is hardwired into our genome: we can't step outside our caves without wondering where our feet are going to take us. It's why we left Africa (only to go back later and make a mess of it). It's why we landed on the Moon. It's probably why we invented the M25.
And unless you find yourself trapped on that Stygian superhighway, the Journey is far more important than the Destination.
The Chinese (Buddhist) version of the Great Journey story concerns a boy priest, Tripitaka, and his quest for the Great Vehicle scriptures, in order to save the world. Tripitaka is accompanied on his journey from China to India by three Holy Fools: a pig monster and a water monster, defrocked (and reincarnated) members of the Heavenly Host; and the King of Monkeys, formerly made of stone, now immortal and puissant, whose arrogance and impudence had offended Heaven in too many ways to count.
The Holy Fools were tasked to protect Tripitaka on his journey, and protect him they did, from all manner of demons and devils. The journey was more than just a chance for the Fools to smack monsters around, though: it was a chance to redeem themselves for past mistakes. A chance to grow closer to Enlightenment.
The stories were told with great reverence, and more than a little humour. Popular for generations, they have been translated into dozens of languages, and most modern media. The focus is usually squarely on the Monkey King.
Of course, when the Japanese got hold of it, they turned into a disco-fu comedy. And when the BBC got hold of that, dubbing in their own dialogue, it got funnier.
Monkey (erroneously known as "Monkey Magic!"), was far from the most lavish of TV shows. The special effects and prosthetics made Dr. Who look like Attack of the Clones. The optical effects (occasionally drawn onto the film itself with a felt pen) were cheesy even in the 1970's. But none of that mattered. Because the show was hilarious.
Monkey stayed fairly true to Wu's original stories (from what my meagre research has told me). The characters were strongly defined from episode one: Pigsy, the lascivious pig monster, couldn't resist the female form, no matter what hid under its skirts. Sandy, the water monster, was cool-headed, and slightly pompous. And Monkey, as he would say quite frequently, "loved to fiiiiight!" Their constant bickering, contrasted with the mostly level headed Tripitaka, probably made some sort of point about how we all have these characters within ourselves, in equal measure. But I never cared about that: I was too busy laughing at Tripitaka's frustration, whereupon he would magically give Monkey a punishment headache.
The cast were great physical actors, so their own personalities came though, even with the English dubbing. Masaaki Sakai, who played Monkey (and has since become the Japanese equivalent of Chris Tarrant) played the part of boisterous bonobo to a T. The fighting scenes, of which there were many (Monkey was, after all, a martial arts comedy), were terrifyingly spontaneous. No weeks of martial arts training and wire fu rehearsal time, here: just a bunch of actors running around in the garden, trying desperately not to hit each other in the face with big rakes.
The casting of a popular young (and very girly) actress in the role of the boy priest Tripitaka was an inspired choice. Tripitaka had a dual nature: he could be utterly Zen one minute, and the next he would be a typical moody teenager. A running joke in the series saw many young girls throw themselves at him. The irony flew thick and fast.
The bawdiness aside, Monkey was packed full of pop Buddhism. Amazingly, it never got tiring or sanctimonious: something that I ascribe to the firm placement of tongues in cheeks. I guess that, when you worship a squat fat balding god, you can never take yourself too seriously.
The English language dub of Monkey might sound a little dodgy to our modern, ultraconsiderate ears. The "accents" are a little bit thick. But the scripts make up for this by, frankly, taking the piss. I doubt that the English dub is an entirely faithful translation when it makes jokes like "We, three Kings of Orient are."
The music was classic 70's disco cheese. The title song, which was called "Monkey Magic," is one of my favourite songs of all time, being full of impeccable funk, and containing lines like "Born from an egg on a mountain top, the funkiest Monkey that ever popped." Musically, Monkey was like the best live action cartoon ever.
The world's first (and best) Buddhist sitcom, Monkey stands the test of time by being unlike anything else on the telly, then or since. Its utter lack of shame, and refusal to tone down the allegory in favour of more obvious plots makes it one of the richest genre sitcoms ever made.
This is hardly surprising: the nature of Monkey was, of course, Irrepressible.
(NOTE: Inspired by the TV series, I went out and bought the Arthur Waley translation of the original stories. Far, far better than any crappy fantasy novel (or series) you care to mention, Wu Ch'eng-en's stories are a rich meal for the brain. Someday, I'm gonna make comics out of them.)
SIDEBAR: MONKEY'S MAGIC
En route to becoming Tripitaka's disciple, Monkey had acquired a wealth of magical knowledge, which he used to aid the Holy Pilgrim on his quest. Amongst other things:
Magic Wishing Staff
Rather like the hammer belonging to the Norse God Thor, this magic staff was powerful and loyal, following Monkey wherever he went. Heavy enough to stir the Milky Way, only Monkey could lift it. It grew and shrank on command, but was usually kept at the reasonable size of one tall man, for the purpose of bashing people.
Cloud Flight
With a whistle, Monkey could summon a pet cloud, which would carry him wherever he wanted to go. As long as it wasn't wet, when he got there.
Illusion
Monkey could make dozens of suspiciously crappy duplicate Monkeys appear out of thin air, to confuse his foes. They looked very much like Original Monkey, as viewed by a drunkard.
Ouch
Monkey could pull off bits of fur, and transform them into nail files, sketches of pretty girls, and legions of monkey warriors. He never seemed to worry about the bald patches?
Faceache
Monkey could change shape, as required. He could mimic other people/things, and frequently turned into a hornet, in order to spy on the naughty. One time, however, somebody swatted him. Monkey ended up spending days locked in a cage, thinking he was Roddy McDowall. Probably.
The Headband of Dooooooom! (or Headaches)
Tripitaka fixed this immovable trinket to Monkey's brow, with a view to reigning in his wilder simian impulses. So, when things get too boisterous, Tripitaka intones the Headache Sutra,
a Buddhist prayer that makes the golden headband starts to shrink, and poor old Monkey goes down, crying.
Review text (C) Matthew Craig
Originally published in the pop culture magazine Robot Fist