It was obvious that Harvey Weinstein was looking to kill two birds with one stone when he bought the North American rights for Shaolin Soccer. Still smarting over missing out on Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon—which became a critically acclaimed, Oscar-winning, box-office smash when Sony Pictures Classics released it in the U.S. in 2000—the soon-to-be-disgraced movie mogul went on an Asian-cinema-acquiring tear in the early aughts, picking up several Hong Kong titles he thought would garner Miramax some money and statuettes.
Released in China and elsewhere in the world 25 years ago this month, Shaolin Soccer was, at that time, the highest-grossing film in Hong Kong history. To Weinstein, who bought it after a rousing showing at the Toronto International Film Festival in 2002, it was an opportunity not only to get at the stateside moviegoers who loved Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, but also those Yanks who made the darling British soccer comedy Bend It Like Beckham into a smash when Fox Searchlight Pictures brought it to America in 2003.
Assuming a perfectly marketable combination of East Asian cinema and international soccer comedy, Weinstein obviously didn’t do a lot of research on Shaolin Soccer before he bought it, or else he would’ve known he was getting a movie from co-writer, director, and star Stephen Chow, who is basically the Will Ferrell of Hong Kong. Much like Ferrell’s filmography, the comedies that Chow has starred in and/or directed are full of surreal slapstick, over-the-top humor, and visual/narrative anarchy. (This genre is known as mo lei tau, which is basically Cantonese for “this makes no damn sense.”)
Chow had acted and directed plenty before, but he went balls-to-the-wall with Shaolin Soccer, which is about a brotherhood of Shaolin disciples (led by Chow’s mighty-kicking protagonist Sing) who use their superhuman kung fu skills to become invincible soccer stars. (The Bruce Lee-looking goalie even wears Lee’s famous yellow jumpsuit from Game Of Death.) Chow goes crazy with the CGI, turning every soccer sequence into a damn Looney Tunes cartoon. (Chow said those scenes were inspired by the Japanese manga Captain Tsubasa.) Chow isn’t afraid to go lowbrow, giving us such gleefully crude sights as a portly teammate hungrily consuming egg yolk off Sing’s dirty sneaker, but we also get some spoof moments, like nods to Jurassic Park and Saving Private Ryan. (Of course, Chow is a Spielberg fan.) There are even a couple of out-of-nowhere musical numbers, because—hey, why not?
Despite its penchant for going bonkers at every turn, Shaolin Soccer is essentially an underdog tale. It’s here where Chow emulates Adam Sandler—another Saturday Night Live cast member turned movie star—as Sing rounds up his brethren, who’re all stuck in soul-sucking jobs and continually getting berated by cruel, comically violent bosses. Even their coach is a former football dynamo who was permanently injured by his former superior, a dastardly ex-teammate who now owns a hyper-juiced club literally known as Team Evil.
Because Miramax pushed the release of Shaolin Soccer back several times, it stands to reason that Weinstein actually saw the film after he snatched up the rights, and realized that this ball of crazy might not get a lot of English-speaking asses in seats. So, he went into Harvey Scissorhands mode, chopping the 112-minute Cantonese and Mandarin film down to an English-dubbed 87 minutes. (Truth be told, Chow previously did some tinkering himself, extending the film into that 112-minute cut after a less-than-satisfying 99-minute version premiered in Hong Kong). Weinstein trimmed scenes (a wacky sequence of Sing defeating a gang with a soccer ball had a bit more vomiting and fart noises) and fully removed others, like a tonally-all-over-the-place moment involving a facially disfigured female baker/kung fu master (Zhao Wei) who has a crush on Sing. The monster even excised the obligatory blooper reel at the end.
This heavily truncated cut of Shaolin Soccer was dumped into theaters in April 2004, a week before Miramax released Kill Bill: Volume 2—basically an appetizing bit of trifle before the main course. The critics who actually reviewed gave it some love: Roger Ebert wrote a three-star rave (“It is piffle, yes, but superior piffle”), while Elvis Mitchell said “it’s so unabashed in its cheesiness that it could be spread on crackers; it may spike your cholesterol levels.” These notices are evidence that, if Miramax distributed Shaolin Soccer as the weird, wild crowdpleaser it already was, it might’ve had a chance to become a word-of-mouth sleeper.
Unfortunately, Weinstein tried to force some kind of widespread appeal, making the film look like a triumphant sports romp for the whole family. (Just check out the trailer that Miramax cut.) Shaolin Soccer may have made $42.7 million worldwide, but its take in the U.S. was only a pitiful $489,600. When it was all said and done, Chow—who aimed to reach a global audience with Shaolin Soccer—was predictably crestfallen and predictably upset with how his film was handled. “What can I say? I really don’t know what happened,” he said. “I didn’t know the Western market—they are the experts. And once I work with someone as a partner then I totally trust them, or I won’t work with them again.”
Like so many filmmakers who’ve been burned by Weinstein, Chow moved on and found success elsewhere—almost immediately, actually. Later that year, Chow got with Sony Pictures Classics and released his chopsocky gangster comedy Kung Fu Hustle. It became another smash for Chow, grossing $100 million worldwide, with $17 million of that coming from American theaters.
As the United States hosts matches for the 2026 FIFA World Cup, Shaolin Soccer has had a resurgence thanks to anniversary screenings. (The New York Asian Film Festival will screen the film next week.) Albert Rodriguez, film administrative and production coordinator for the Museum Of Fine Arts, Houston, recently programmed it for a soccer-themed series that also included Beckham. “The audience reaction was more than expected,” Rodriguez tells The A.V. Club. “Not only were there continuous laughs, but even applause at the goals made and boos at the defeat of the antagonist characters. It almost felt like a roller coaster with the reaction inside the theater.”
For Rodriguez, the appreciative response from moviegoers took him back to his younger years, when he and his buddies discovered the film and became Shaolin Soccer disciples themselves. “It was also one of those films that got us to play outside as soon as the credits were over,” he says. “It was quite inspiring, we even started a Friday Football League, with quotes and stunts from the movie we performed weekly when not trying to score.”
Even after Weinstein hacked away at it and tried to sell it as something it isn’t, Shaolin Soccer was still strong enough to become a cult fave for American cinephiles who prefer their sports movies overflowing with comedic chaos.
Keep scrolling for more great stories.