Saying that Hong Kong actor-director Stephen Chow is the most popular comedian in Asia doesn’t prepare you for his movies. Take “Love on Delivery.” It’s a love story about a cowardly delivery boy taking on the head of a judo school to win the girl, with interruptions for commercials, musical numbers, Stephen Chow dressed up like Garfield to fight crime, a cursing contest, and a brief performance of “Funkytown.”

Mr. Chow’s brand of nonsense is utterly addictive. His filmography consists of full-out assaults on the classics of Chinese literature, two parodies of James Bond (one set in ancient China), movie industry send-ups, kung fu cooking flicks, gambling comedies, romantic comedies, period romantic comedies, period supernatural romantic comedies – the list goes on.

But it all started when he hosted a children’s television show called “430 Space Shuttle.” It was his first big break, but it was tough going for a man who didn’t like children. “Actually, it was a happy experience for me,” Mr. Chow told me. “Because I learned something from this. Sometimes you’ve got to be patient. Maybe for a long time.” The show lasted for six years.

After that, Mr. Chow became a dramatic actor, winning a Taiwanese film award for best supporting actor in “Final Justice,” playing a car thief. Then came a television series where he played a chicken vendor, his first comedy role. “Comedy happened quite suddenly, I just wanted to be an actor,” Mr. Chow said.

His big-screen comedy break came when Chow Yun-Fat’s gambling action flick, “God of Gamblers,” made a bucket of dough in 1989. Producer/director Wong Jing, Hong Kong’s king of bad taste, couldn’t get Chow Yun-Fat to star in a sequel, so he hired Stephen Chow to star in a parody, “All for the Winner.” The movie was a runaway success.

“There are some of my older movies that I don’t really hate, and one of those is ‘All for the Winner,'” Mr. Chow said. “It was my first film to break the Hong Kong box-office record. Now that’s very normal for me. It’s very boring. Every time I break some record. But the first time, for me, is unforgettable. I also like ‘Fight Back to School,’ which is the second time I broke the box-office record. And ‘Justice My Foot’ with Anita Mui. That broke the box-office record, too.”

Lest you think Mr. Chow sounds egotistical, remember that this is a man who has appeared in films playing a rice cooker, a monkey, and a Mainland Chinese hillbilly sporting cinema’s ugliest perm. He has performed a love scene with an enormous rope of snot hanging out of his nose. His deadpan manners seem to render him immune to humiliation, and yet he constantly courts it with ridiculous costumes, awful wigs, and transcendentally stupid situations.

After “All for the Winner,” Mr. Chow went on to star in 35 movies over the next 10 years. “It’s a very difficult pace to maintain. Sometimes I’m making five or six movies at the same time. How can I maintain the quality of my performance? I can’t.”

So in 1994 he began co-directing his films, starting with the James Bond parody, “From Beijing with Love.” His output dropped from six or seven movies a year to two or three. His most ambitious project to date has been his two-part parody/tribute/adaptation of “Journey to the West,” one of the great works of Chinese literature.

“When ‘Chinese Odyssey’ was first released in Hong Kong the audience didn’t really like the movie and I was so disappointed because I had wanted to make something different – I wanted to try to tell a love story,” he said. “I thought it was very romantic and very good, but when it came out it’s totally the opposite, and I felt discouraged.”

Now, however, bootlegged discs of the movie have become a hot item in mainland China. “That’s when I understood that sometimes a movie is like a miracle: very unexpected.”

In recent years, Mr. Chow’s films have become quasi-annual productions, but their cost and complexity have soared, and their box-office numbers have risen accordingly. He has become the most famous filmmaker in Hong Kong, the one dependable constant in a film industry experiencing a staggering recession. And so every movie he releases is a hotly anticipated event.

“I think this is quite reasonable. For any filmmaker in the world who did a good movie, next time of course you expect more.” As Mr. Chow says in “Love on Delivery,” striking a heroic pose with a hard-boiled egg over each eye and a fin rising from the top of his head, “I’ll try my best.”

A Stephen Chow Discography

There’s only one U.S. DVD of a Stephen Chow movie: 2001’s “Shaolin Soccer.” But don’t let that discourage you. Wander into Chinatown and every movie he’s ever made is available on all-region DVDs with English subtitles.

“All for the Winner” (1990) The movie that made Mr. Chow a star isn’t as insanely inspired as his later offerings, but it’s a true Hong Kong masala, with ample helpings of comedy, action, and gambling.

“Chinese Odyssey 1” and “Chinese Odyssey 2” (1995) With a wild, colorful production design, lousy subtitles, dense cultural allusions, and a plot set on “liquefy,” these two may leave Western viewers seasick.

“Love on Delivery” (1994) One of Mr. Chow’s best, this story of a delivery boy winning the heart of his lady love plays out like some kind of anthem to being totally, irredeemably dumb.

“From Beijing With Love” (1994) A James Bond parody so mean and so inspired that it delivers the cinematic thrills missing from all recent Bond movies.

“Forbidden City Cop” (1996) Starts as a 007 parody set in ancient China, turns into a rocking kung fu film starring two of Yuen Wo-ping’s brothers, and an ode to married life.

“God of Cookery” (1996) Mr. Chow is fine in this erratic offering about a master chef getting his comeuppance, but it’s co-star Karen Mok, as a hideously disfigured street vendor, steals the spotlight.

“King of Comedy” (1999) The story of an extra who wants to be an actor, this movie features some of Mr. Chow’s most inspired bits (a community-theater version of Bruce Lee’s “Fist of Fury” is a highlight). Also stars the inimitable Karen Mok.

“Shaolin Soccer” (2001) One of the greatest sports movies ever made, this kung fu soccer film is also a glorious celebration of the broken-down, middle-aged male body. Too bad Miramax botched its release so badly: It’s actually a better – and funnier – movie than “Kung Fu Hustle.”