43. Kung Fu Kapers

Kung Fu Kapers

24 March 1975

Along with ‘Kitten Kong’, ‘Kung Fu Kapers’ is surely the best- and most widely remembered of all the Goodies episodes (double-barrelled ‘K’ titles for the win). 50 years and countless re-watches after its original broadcast, it remains a comedic tour de force—delightful in the detail, sidesplitting in the execution, supremely satirical in sending up the American TV programme Kung Fu (1972-1975) and the martial arts craze ushered in more generally by Bruce Lee in the early- to mid-1970s. Most Goodies fans will have seen this one so many times, it becomes difficult to appreciate just how hard the humour must have hit when first viewed, in its original context. Is ‘Kung Fu Kapers’ the funniest episode of them all? By one metric, it’s impossible to deny:

Tim and Graeme start out trying to teach themselves Kung Fu, the ritualistic trappings of which are mocked when they break into respectful bows if ever one of them appears set to strike. Behind this respectable martial veneer lies, of course, the desire—Tim’s especially!—to hurt people. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the ancient Lancastrian martial art of Ecky Thump, which for all its mystic spirituality consists primarily of whacking people over the head with black puddings. “But only for peaceable purposes,” Bill narrates of his training, deflecting thrown hats like a soccer goalkeeper. Then later on: “The whole point of Ecky Thump is you never use it. Far too dangerous.”

But again, the pretence that great wisdom is great power responsibly wielded gives way to a less idealistic reality:

Having provoked Bill into revealing the secret of Ecky Thump, Graeme (with two moon-boot crutches) and Tim (plastered in a karate pose) feel obliged to stop his rise to power. It’s a curious decision. Unlike, say, Graeme’s Pirate Leader of Series One, Bill’s megalomania extends little further than the financial exploitation of sudden fame. He is, in effect, Bruce Lee. In the early days of the Super Chaps (cf. ‘Snooze’) or even as recently as ‘Clown Virus’, the other two Goodies would have jumped on the money-making bandwagon. True, one could argue that Bill’s march on parliament was a step too far. The escalation in this instance is from Bruce Lee to Che Guevara:

…and an uprising of that nature is not to be tolerated. (Notwithstanding that Tim shows none of the patriotic motivation we’d expect of him had Bill, for example, targeted Buckingham Palace. Indeed, by Series Eight’s ‘Goodies and Politics’, these extremes would be living under the same roof: Bill with his Che Guevara poster and socialist mindset; Tim as would-be Margaret Thatcher.[1]) In terms of The Goodies’ success as a television programme, there was, of course, no underlying ideology at play, but rather an ever-growing appreciation of what comedic potential could be unlocked by pitting one Goodie against the other two. No guest stars, no continuity, just opportunistic conflict.

Amidst it all, the Super Chaps do Super Chaps things: puns, pratfalls, physical humour in all its manifestations. ‘Kung Fu Kapers’ is unremittingly funny—as poor old Alex Mitchell discovered.

Graeme’s blackface Muhammad Ali impersonation presents as the one real blemish to modern eyes, but even this is debatable. Over the course of the Goodies’ run, the lads showed themselves rather too willing to employ blackface—especially black-and-white minstrels—making stream-of-consciousness connections with explosions, boot polish, and anything else that might change a person’s skin from white to black. The result was usually a song, and one could argue a satirical intention; ie. to ridicule the white person’s tendency to fixate on and appropriate this one aspect of Black culture.

The counter-argument would be that such music-focussed and/or silly-voice cherry-picking played into stereotypes of low intelligence, as well as a history of song rooted in Black slavery[2]—a ‘punching down’ humour inherently in bad taste. The counter-counter-argument remains that the Goodies, whenever they trotted out stereotypes, were most likely of a mind to poke fun at British airs, prejudices and assumptions. In the martial arts competition, Graeme’s Muhammad Ali is followed by a procession that includes standard Goodies caricatures of French, Australian and Scottish national types—all of which pass muster because we know they’re grossly inaccurate; as of course we do with the blackface boxer.

In terms of acceptability, we should probably give the Goodies the benefit of the doubt, if not for reason of ‘being of their time’ then at least for growing in self-awareness. Within a month they would produce ‘South Africa’, a politically minded uber-satire that shows such obvious positive intent in its use of blackface to make a point against racism, it seems only fair to cut them some slack elsewhere.[3]

Jacob Edwards, 24 March 2025

Tweets:

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[1] Having already, in ‘Royal Command’, tried his hand at being Queen Elizabeth!

[2] One wonders whether Muhammad Ali, thus self-christened after deeming Cassius Clay his ‘slave name’, would have had a chuckle at the rampant flippancy of the boxing scene? Or whether the lads would have screened it for him in person.

[3] And as ever, the Goodies, first and foremost, put themselves out there for ridicule. Note the true-to-life insult that comes closest to pushing Bill over the edge: “Chelsea supporter!” Also, that Ecky Thump, which belittles martial arts as merely the act of thumping people, originates from Rochdale… where Bill Oddie himself was born!

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