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Applying Vaclav Havel’s Model of the Gag to Mr. Vampire
©2000, Chris Lake
Humor is both a satisfying and difficult way to affect an audience. Satisfying in that its effect – laughter – is explicit and unmistakable. Difficult in that subtle nuances like timing, facial expression, and inflection can make the difference between an audience reacting with uncontrollable guffaws or dead silence. Comedy is as old as performance itself – from the Greek comedies such as Lysistrata, to the clowns who provided comic relief in Shakespeare’s plays, to the entertainers who bring smiles to the faces of modern filmgoers. But even today it is impossible to tell beyond a doubt what will and what will not make people laugh. People continue to theorize about what makes humor work.
One such theorist is Vaclav Havel, who wrote an article intended to describe the nature of one form of humor: the gag. Though "The Anatomy of the Gag" was published in a drama journal, his examples are predominantly filmic. Using gags from films by such renowned comedians as Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin, Havel creates a model of how the gag works. The gag, according to Havel, "consists minimally of two basic phases which in themselves need not be either comical or absurd, but which begin to evoke the sense of absurdity and laughter at the moment of their encounter." It is then the interaction between the two phases which inspires laughter. As he further elaborates as to how these phases interact, he states that the second phase of the gag defamiliarizes the first phase. While initially, the first phase may seem to make perfect sense, this defamiliarization makes it look ridiculous. Although Havel’s model was originally meant, for simplicity’s sake, to apply primarily to gags from what he calls the "classic film comedy," we can venture to assume that at least some aspects of this model can be used to understand the gags in other sorts of comedy films. By looking closely at a particular film, we will see how accurate this assumption is.
Mr. Vampire (Geung si sin sang, Ricky Lau, 1985) is a film from Hong Kong which originated a successful new genre. Earlier, there had been several successful films in Hong Kong which combined elements of Hong Kong action cinema with supernatural themes (Zu: Warriors of the Magic Mountain, A Chinese Ghost Story, Encounter of the Spooky Kind). Mr. Vampire is inspired by these films, but differs in that it is primarily a comedy. The unique conventions associated with Chinese vampires become the subject of many of the gags in this film. These and other gags within the film fit the general idea behind Havel’s article rather well, and we can easily see how they work in terms of his model. As Havel elaborates upon his notion of the gag, however, it becomes less universal and more specifically applicable to classic western comedies.
![]() Preparing to corral runaway vampires |
In the opening scene of this film, the characters of Sun and Man-choi are introduced. They are apprentices to Daoist priest and feng shui master Uncle Kau. Man-choi tends to the chores around the shrine, but falls victim to a practical joke by Sun and soon their clowning around results in the awakening of a group of "domesticated" vampires under the care of Uncle Kau’s brother, another priest. Kau and his brother appear on the scene to subdue these dangerous creatures. To do so, they bite the tips of their fingers and then mark the vampires’ foreheads with a dot of blood, freezing them in their tracks. This scene is full of the sort of fast-paced fighting associated with Hong Kong action as well as some crazy gags. Early in the scuffle, Kau’s brother freezes one vampire with a poke to the head, but turns around to be grasped by the throat by another. His struggles to free himself prove to be in vain, so he freezes the vampire with a spot of blood. This does not make his attempts to escape the vampire’s hands any easier, for its grip is now totally stiff and there are other dangerous vampires closing in on him. He kicks one vampire away and then rubs the blood off of his captor’s head. The vampire awakens, notices its quarry in front of it, rears back and then thrusts forward to strike, but is stopped by a tap from the priest’s fingers, freezing it once again. Kau’s brother pauses to regard his handiwork and then rushes off to help stop the other creatures from wreaking havoc.
Using Havel’s model, we can understand the first phase of the gag involving Kau’s brother as the convention (introduced within the scene) of stopping a vampire by marking it’s forehead with blood. Common sense would seem to dictate that once one has stopped such a deadly creature, one would not for any reason release it to strike again. The priest does this, however, and with the ease of flipping a switch he puts the vampire into a more convenient position. That is phase two. The convention of marking the head to stop the vampire is rendered absurd by the priest’s ease of manipulating the vampire which resembles more banal conventions such as posing a model or adjusting a picture frame hung on the wall.
The gags in this film which involve the supernatural are not by any means limited to the subject of vampires. Sun finds himself the object of the romantic interests of a ghost woman whom he first encounters in a cemetery where he and Man-choi are helping Uncle Kau exhume the body of Mr. Yang’s grandfather who was buried with poor feng shui. Later in the film, Sun is riding his bicycle from the shrine back to his aunt’s home. It is night and he rides through the forest. On the soundtrack, music with a traditional Chinese instrumentation begins and the images on the picture track become more heavily stylized. The forest seems magical and supernatural as blue light filters through the trees and is diffused by haze. A carriage carried by four robed figures emerges from the haze in the distance, walking in slow-motion. A closer shot reveals that these porters are wearing white face paint with bright red lipstick and bright red circles painted on their cheeks. They smile wide as they bounce up and down with each step and the scenery passes by behind them. We are treated to the sight of the beautiful ghost woman through a beaded curtain on the carriage’s window. She calmly, slowly combs her hair. Elsewhere, Sun continues his bike ride as the servants set the carriage down and the ghost woman emerges. She does not touch the ground but rather flies toward a tree and lands gently upon a branch, looking off into the distance and waiting for Sun to arrive. All the while, the music is accompanied by a chorus singing of the ghost woman and the upcoming encounter:
"Under the bright moon a cold wind drifts the alley.
The lady ghost searches for a lover.
Who would love a hideous ghost bride
and cuddle with her under the pale moonlight?*"
This contributes to the surreal tone of the scene which is markedly different from the other scenes within the film. As Sun approaches, the ghost woman floats from her perch on the tree branch to land gently on the rack behind his bicycle seat. He continues pedaling, unaware of her presence as she waves a red scarf at her porters, who wave back as they walk and then fade away to the accompaniment of a science-fiction-like sound effect. Sun, still ignorant of the ghost’s presence, ducks under a low tree branch. Cut to a shot from directly above as the ghost woman, sitting side-saddle, bonks her head on the branch and falls off the bicycle. We then see her kneeling on the ground rubbing her aching head as Sun rides obliviously away. She omits a single, frustrated "hmph!"
One might be tempted to say that the gag in this scene lies solely in the moment the graceful ghost is knocked off the bicycle by a low tree branch, but a woman sustaining a painful bump on the head and falling off a bike is certainly not funny in itself. What makes it humorous is the long, beautiful sequence which leads up to it, which the bump suddenly and effectively deflates of its grace. Using Havel’s model, we may consider this sequence to be phase one. Its length is very important, for at first the incongruity of the visual and aural feel of the scene may seem to be a joke in itself. However, as it continues, it mesmerizes the viewer with its exotic beauty and apparent sincerity. Once this occurs, this graceful scene is prepared for the defamiliarization which then occurs as a result of the ghost woman’s fall: phase two.
![]() Captain Wai: The butt of several gags in Mr. Vampire |
Another excellent example of a gag involving spiritual forces takes place in the home of Mr. Yang, the son of the client to be reburied. This gag has a special connection to Vaclav Havel’s article. An example Havel uses in his article is that of a man who is the image of importance walking along the sidewalk. The man trips and staggers for several graceless steps before he once again regains his composure and walks on. Havel writes that what makes this funny is that the trip "interrupted, defamiliarized, ridiculed, and made nonsense of the gentleman’s importance. The classic comic theme was exposed: the ridiculous stuffed shirt." In the scene in question from Mr. Vampire, the "stuffed shirt" is Mr. Yang’s nephew: the policeman, Captain Wai. Wai constantly makes a show of his own importance. When Kau arrives at Yang’s house to speak of the reburial arrangements, with Sun and Man-choi in tow, the captain harasses the two apprentices and accuses them of trying to "steal" his cousin, Yang’s daughter, Ting-Ting (whom he is making his own misguided attempt to start a relationship with). Sun and Man-choi nod to each other as if to say that the situation calls for some mischief, and Sun proceeds to distract Wai while his friend plucks a hair from the back of the officious policeman’s head. "A gray hair is a sign of early senility," Man-choi states as he contemplates the hair. He holds it out to Wai, "Is it yours?" Wai responds, "Of course it’s not mine! I wouldn’t have one gray hair on my body!" Sun and Man-choi retire to the garden as the captain continues to make clumsy passes at Ting-Ting.
In the garden, the apprentices practice a trick which they indubitably learned under the tutelage of Uncle Kau. There is a close-up of a paper with an incantation written on it which they wrap around Wai’s plucked hair. "Once you swallow it," instructs Sun, "you two will become one. Then he’ll do whatever you want him to do." Man-choi swallows the paper and slaps himself. Cut to a shot of Wai sitting at a table with Ting-Ting and suddenly slapping himself. He looks around the room, confused. The mischievous pair continue to make Wai slap himself and eventually move on to making him take off his clothes in order to make him humiliate himself in front of Yang’s daughter. He strips down almost to his boxer shorts and Ting-Ting is mortified.
It is easy by now to see how this gag fits into Havel’s general model as well as reflects his example of the gentleman’s importance being deflated. Both phases are very important in making the gag work. Were Wai not set up as a self-important charlatan, the apprentices’ actions in making him embarrass himself would seem needless and cruel. Had not something happened to humiliate Wai, he would still be portrayed as a man who acts big and important, although it is obvious he is not as important as he thinks he is. However, there would be no moment in which his importance is rendered completely absurd.
In addition to such strange and magical situations, there are gags within the film which would be perfectly at home within the films of Chaplin or Keaton. One such gag occurs at the local police station, where Uncle Kau is mistakenly being held for the murder of Mr. Yang, which was actually committed by Yang’s deceased father, who has come back to life as a vampire because of his improper first burial. He spots Sun arriving to help him escape so that he can prevent the late Mr. Yang from becoming a vampire like his father. Kau eagerly peeks his head through the bars to see what is going on, then finds himself unable to withdraw his head back into his cell. When Sun arrives at the cell door, Kau asks for his assistance. Sun makes him promise not to blame him for what he does to get his head free, and then proceeds to pull his master’s pants down. He is about to remove the underwear when Kau is able to struggle out from between the bars and away from the door, exasperated.
This is a gag. Why? Some might claim that pulling down someone’s pants is in itself a gag. For a complete gag, however, there must be more than just a man getting his pants pulled down around his ankles. There needs to be something which makes it ironic or absurd. Havel writes that the linkage of the two phases of the gag follows a logic, but this is not a logic we are accustomed to. Sun’s master has his head stuck between the bars of his cell. What should he do? Common, everyday logic might lead to such strategies as lubricating Kau’s ears with petroleum jelly or carefully analyzing the placement of his head to see if there is a way he can turn it to slide easily back through. Sun’s choice is more unusual – he pulls Kau’s pants down – but it works! If Kau’s head was stuck, so Sun ate an apple, that would not be a gag in Havel’s sense of the term because it lacks the strange logic which motivates pulling down the priest’s pants.
This unifying logic which is a staple of the "Havel gag" is also apparent in a later moment in the film when Uncle Kau is trying to prevent Man-choi from becoming a vampire due to wounds he received while battling one such creature. Kau explains to Man-choi that the venom inside of him will cause his blood to harden in his veins and make him stiff like the hopping vampire that attacked him. "What should I do then?" asks a concerned Man-choi. Kau replies, "Why are you still sitting there? Get up and start moving!" Man-choi must keep moving in order to stop the venom from turning him into a vampire. He immediately jumps up and begins to do a series of silly dances as nondiegetic music plays on the soundtrack.
In the face of such grave circumstances, it does not seem to make any sense to dance around the room. However, Man-choi must keep moving in order to avoid becoming undead, so in a way his dance is motivated by logic. It is an uncommon sort of logic, which is what makes it a gag.
Man-choi finds another "logical" reason to dance when Captain Wai and his police force pay a visit to the shrine to see if he is indeed becoming a vampire. The apprentice finds that his fingernails have grown significantly overnight, and runs to the washroom to clip them before Wai has a chance to see them. He sees his own reflection in the mirror and is aghast at how pale he has become. Desperately, he begins to apply Ting-Ting’s makeup to disguise his pallid countenance. When Wai asks Uncle Kau about Man-choi’s health, the priest calls for his apprentice, who emerges from a doorway, dancing about in a delicate and feminine way. He has applied too much makeup, making himself look like some sort of deranged geisha girl, so he is dancing in a desperate attempt to make his painted face seem less out of place. The dance is indeed silly, but it is also motivated.
So far, we have seen how these gags fit Havel’s general model, but there are specific points present in "The Anatomy of the Gag" which problematize grouping all of these gags together under Havel’s concept. Within the sequence during which Sun and Man-choi humiliate Captain Wai by magically inducing him to strip in front of Ting-Ting, there is a moment in which both Wai and Man-choi (the "puppeteer" in this sequence) are visible at the same time: Wai in the foreground and Man-choi framed within a doorway behind him. Simultaneously, they pull down their pants, fling their arms to the left, then to the right, and then Man-choi is pulled out of view by Sun as Wai flings himself in the same direction, crashing onto the floor. This in itself could easily be considered a gag, but a gag which does not depend on the two phase model which Havel has given us. Wai and Man-choi’s choreographed motions are completely absurd and funny entirely by themselves. This gag is slapstick in its most primal form.
![]() Lam Ching-Ying (left) instructs his apprentice, played by Chin Siu-Hou (right). |
Havel deems it important to point out repeatedly that both phases in his idea of the gag are what he calls "automatisms:" repeated actions which have become automatic. He writes that a gag "defamiliaraizes one automatism by another." Is getting one’s head stuck between the bars of one’s prison cell an automatism? No. It is no more an automatism than pulling down someone’s pants, yet Sun pulling Uncle Kau’s pants around his ankles in order to free his head from between the prison bars is a gag.
How can one account for the disparities between Havel’s model and many of the gags in Mr. Vampire? Do these gags in some way prove Havel wrong? No, they do not. One must remember that Havel explicitly states at the beginning of his essay that he is concerning himself primarily with the gag as it appears in what he calls the "classic film comedy."
Havel’s article, however, does provide an excellent model for analyzing these gags. Whether or not the gags fit the model perfectly, they do show that the concepts in Havel’s article can be used across many forms of film comedy beyond the "classical" period. This model could form the basis of a new field of "gag theory." Gags could be defined first by adherence to the two phase category (or lack thereof). Under the two phase category, gags could be further divided based on whether or not they are composed of automatisms, whether either or both of the phases could be considered absurd on their own, &c. Gags which are exemplary models of Havel’s concept of the gag could be called Havellian Gags. I do not, however, foresee the establishment of an exact science regarding what makes things funny. As Havel says, "it is not possible to model completely the endless wealth of the world of human subjectivity, and all of the elements which cause its conditions." It is not, however, futile to at least try to get a general idea of how humor works.
Vaclav Havel’s model of the gag has proven useful in analyzing many of the gags which Mr. Vampire employs. The two-phases Havel describes are seen in the moment when Kau’s brother manipulates the conventions employed to freeze the vampires in order to free himself from the grasp of one of the undead. When the ghost woman is knocked from her perch on the back of Sun’s bicycle by an unexpected tree branch, the beauty of the stylized imagery of the preceding scene is rendered absurd. Wai’s humiliation which results from the magical mischief of Sun and Man-choi is reminiscent of Havel’s image of the classic gag involving a self-important man being made to look foolish. Havel’s article states that within the gag there is a sort of unusual logic linking the first and second phases. This logic is present in Sun’s decision that the best way to remove his master’s head from between the bars of his prison cell is by pulling down his pants, and in the times in which Man-choi confronts a dire situation by dancing about in a silly manner. Some gags, however, don’t seem to rely on the two phase model, such as Wai and Man-choi’s synchronized convulsions, which seem absurd by themselves without considering the context which has brought them into being. Other gags do not rely upon the defamiliarization of automatisms, such as pulling down Kau’s pants to free his head from between the bars. Havel’s model, of course, was not meant to apply universally to all comedy films. However, by using his theory as a starting point, one could imagine defining various forms of the gag of which the Havellian gag is only one.
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Havel, Vaclav, "The Anatomy of the Gag," Modern Drama 23 (1980). Ross, Johnathan, The Incredibly Strange Film Book (London: Simon & Schuster, 1993). *All quotes appear as translated in the subtitles of the recent Tai Seng VHS release |