Sean Gilman’s review published on Letterboxd:
. . . . Which leads us to the third brother, played by Chow Yun-fat. A flamboyantly fabulous sociopathic womanizer, Chow relentlessly pursues an equally amoral shopgirl played by Cherie Chung. He's also engaged to a very nice and very forgiving flight attendant played by Do Do Cheng. We hear Chow, in voiceover, explain his seduction technique (he plays the "sissy" or as one subtitle translation spelled it, the "cizzy") as one of disarming women with his femininity so they're more trusting of his advances, as well as its origins (he blames Wong for "making him wear dresses" as a young child). The implications and stereotypes of Chow's performance are simply too dense for me to unpack, and I've watched the movie three times and had a year to think about it. I simply don't know if it's good or bad. It's appallingly broad and offensive, but quite obviously intentionally so. I've never seen anything like it before or since. But he is the essential figure, both in the plot (it's his anarchic actions that complicate and resolve his brothers' romances) and in the film's appeal. You can't look away from him whenever he's on-screen, despite the utter awfulness of everything he does. It's not just a performance in bad taste, it's a performance utterly liberated from any idea of what taste is. The freedom it represents, the freedom to be truly, deeply horrible, is what makes the film some kind of great. Early in the film, Chow dances half-dressed in tuxedo shirt and jacket, no pants, suspenders slung bunched over one shoulder (as he will wear them throughout the film) to an electric Cantonese variation on the Blue Danube Waltz and it's as pure an expression of joy as there is in film history. . . .