Okay, dim the lights, maybe crack open a can of something fizzy that expired sometime during the Clinton administration, and let’s talk about a Hong Kong curveball that likely baffled as many video store browsers as it delighted: Jeffrey Lau’s utterly bonkers 1995 horror-comedy, Out of the Dark (回魂夜, Hui wan ye). If you stumbled across this on VHS, tucked away perhaps in the "International" or maybe even mistakenly shelved in "Action," you were in for one strange, unpredictable night. Forget your typical Stephen Chow laugh riot; this film takes the King of Comedy, dresses him like Jean Reno in Léon: The Professional, and throws him into a haunted apartment block filled with genuinely creepy ghosts and surprisingly visceral gore.

The immediate, unavoidable hook is Stephen Chow himself. Forget the goofy grins and manic energy of God of Cookery or From Beijing with Love. Here, as the eccentric ghostbuster named, yes, Leon (though sometimes referred to as Leo in subtitles, adding to the VHS charm), Chow adopts a stoic, sunglasses-indoors cool directly lifted from Luc Besson’s 1994 hitman classic. He carries a potted plant, drinks milk, and takes a young girl (Karen Mok, sporting a shaved head mirroring Natalie Portman) under his wing. It's parody, obviously, but played with a bizarre seriousness that clashes wonderfully, and sometimes awkwardly, with the surrounding chaos.
Retro Fun Fact: This stark departure wasn't just a creative choice; rumour has it Stephen Chow and director/writer Jeffrey Lau (who'd just collaborated on the massive hits A Chinese Odyssey Part One: Pandora's Box and Part Two: Cinderella earlier that same year) clashed significantly on set. Some whispers even suggest Chow took over directing duties for some of his own scenes, perhaps explaining his slightly detached, almost experimental performance here. It feels less like typical "mo lei tau" (nonsensical) Chow and more like an actor testing strange new waters.

The premise is classic Hong Kong spooky fare: a dilapidated apartment building is haunted by the vengeful spirits of a couple who met a grisly end. The residents are terrified, the security guards are useless (and provide much of the broader comedy), and only the mysterious Leon seems equipped to handle the supernatural menace. Jeffrey Lau, who also appears in the film as a character named Kin, orchestrates a peculiar ballet of slapstick, spectral chills, and moments that push the boundaries of Category III-style splatter.
This is where Out of the Dark really shows its 90s HK cinema roots. The film pivots wildly between genuinely unsettling ghostly encounters – flickering lights, eerie apparitions, sudden bursts of violence – and broad, physical comedy routines. One minute you might be chuckling at guards trying to wrap their heads around Leon’s bizarre ghost-hunting methods (involving plastic wrap and chocolate?), the next you’re confronted with a surprisingly bloody sequence or a genuinely creepy visual. Remember how tangible those squibs and latex wounds felt back then? The practical effects here, while clearly budget-conscious, have that wonderfully messy, pre-CGI immediacy. The ghosts aren’t smooth digital creations; they flicker and float with a jerky uncertainty that somehow makes them more unsettling on a grainy VHS transfer.


Make no mistake, Out of the Dark is weird. The tonal shifts can be whiplash-inducing. Is it a horror film with jokes? A comedy with surprisingly dark moments? A straight-up parody that occasionally forgets it's a parody? The answer is probably "yes" to all of the above. It doesn't always gel perfectly, and viewers expecting a non-stop laugh fest like Chow's other contemporary hits might have been bewildered. This probably explains its initially mixed reception; it wasn’t the straightforward crowd-pleaser many anticipated after the A Chinese Odyssey phenomenon.
But for fans of HK cinema's glorious, anything-goes 90s heyday, there's a unique charm here. Karen Mok is game as Kwan, Leon's unlikely protégé, fully committing to the Léon homage. The supporting cast of apartment dwellers provides plenty of panicked energy. And Lau's direction, while perhaps reflecting some behind-the-scenes turmoil, still delivers that distinct Hong Kong kineticism – fast-paced, slightly rough around the edges, and never boring. Seeing this on a rented tape, maybe with slightly wonky subtitles, felt like discovering a secret, a bizarre experiment smuggled out of the mainstream.
Retro Fun Fact: Filmed quickly and on a relatively modest budget typical of the prolific Hong Kong industry at the time, Lau and his team relied heavily on practical solutions for scares and gags. The constrained apartment setting becomes almost a character itself, amplifying the claustrophobia and allowing for inventive, if sometimes crude, visual tricks.

Out of the Dark isn't Stephen Chow's funniest film, nor is it Jeffrey Lau's most coherent. But it is one of their most fascinatingly strange collaborations. It captures a specific moment in HK cinema – experimental, energetic, willing to throw wildly different ingredients into the pot just to see what happens. The Léon parody is audacious, the horror elements surprisingly effective, and the overall experience is undeniably memorable, even if you're not quite sure why.
Rating: 7/10 - The score reflects its unique, if uneven, blend of genres and that undeniable 90s HK cult energy. It's not a perfect film, the pacing sometimes stumbles, and the tone is all over the place, but its sheer audacity, Chow's bizarre performance, and the genuinely creepy moments earn it solid points. It definitely delivers on being different.
Final Take: A wonderfully weird VHS find that weaponizes plastic wrap against vengeful spirits. For fans of oddball 90s Hong Kong cinema and seeing Stephen Chow take a walk on the dark (and deeply strange) side, this spectral spoof is still a trip worth taking. Just maybe keep some chocolate handy.