At first glance, Kagan McLeod’s Infinite Kung Fu would seem to have limited appeal. Despite inspiring near-religious devotion in its fans, martial-arts movies have been marginalized, commercialized, and derided in popular culture as a sort of kitschy guilty pleasure. Attempts have been made to revive the genre, most notably in anime, but Infinite Kung Fu may be the first graphic novel to stand a decent chance of creating new interest in a niche genre.
Innovative and smart, Infinite Kung Fu pays homage to classic elements of martial-arts films, from wise masters to wise-ass students, but it manages to do away with the clunky dialogue and feel of Asian exploitation that have come to dominate many viewers’ perspectives on kung fu. Instead, McLeod returns to the kung-fu story as a quasi-mystical battle between good and evil. As with the Kill Bill films, whose own master, Gordon Liu, provides a foreword, Infinite Kung Fu is a loving tribute and a partial reinvention.
McLeod, a longtime fan of kung-fu films, populates his story with familiar archetypes that nonetheless remain stylish and cool. The story begins with the eight Immortals, grand kung-fu masters who have gained superpowers, and their fight against the rapidly increasing legions of zombies on Earth. Each of the Immortals’ students has turned to dark magic, with the exception of Moog Joogular, a sort of Isaac Hayes/Jimi Hendrix mash-up with a sword.
With the help of Moog and his assistant, Thursday Thoroughgood, the leader of the Immortals trains a young army deserter in the ways of kung fu. Along the way, he must learn fighting techniques from animals, defeat a ghostly emperor, and figure out the secret of the undead’s resurgence.
Magic, an “infinite” number of fighting styles, and a proliferation of quirky characters allow McLeod room to play, and he does not disappoint. Spirits jump between bodies, masters attack with centipedes and burst open opponents’ chests (literally), and the Buddha even puts in an appearance. At over 400 pages, Infinite Kung Fu may seem daunting to some readers, but variety keeps the story moving.
Using an Asian-inspired brushwork style, McLeod’s art feels well suited for the story and refreshingly simple. Strangely enough, it’s also a good fit for his extended fight scenes. The fights (which admittedly take up a large portion of the book) mix the pows and cracks of comic-book violence with the fanciful technique terms of kung-fu movies, and McLeod’s brushwork ties them together wonderfully. Repetitive fights could easily kill the narrative momentum that McLeod sets up, but the masterful artwork manages to keep the moves fresh. Though initially very boxy in layout and formulaic in design, McLeod’s story and art evolve into something looser and far more interesting as the novel progresses.
Perhaps McLeod’s biggest asset is the timeliness of this book. Although he began work on Infinite Kung Fu years ago, zombies have never been bigger than in 2011. Even as we head toward exhaustion in the face of constantly proliferating “zombies vs. what-have-you” media, “kung fu vs. the undead” feels stripped down and special. At its heart, we know that Infinite Kung Fu is a natural progression from those childhood “who would win” contests; kick-ass kung fu, zombie mayhem, and happy readers are the result.