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Film: Infernal Affairs - The Complete Trilogy
Release date: 27th December 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 332 mins
Director: Andrew Lau & Alan Mak
Starring: Tony Leung, Andy Lau, Anthony Wong, Eric Tsang, Shawn Yue
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Hong Kong/China/Singapore
Infernal Affairs is Hong Kong’s most celebrated export. With awards galore in its native land, and cult attention over the ocean, the trilogy went on to inspire Martin Scorsese’s first Oscar triumph. With The Departed came a resounding success but it is Lau and Mak’s original where the betrayal, shifting allegiances and inner turmoil of the story was born. With a stunning vision of a Triad ridden Hong Kong, this was a true event in Asia, one that sadly many have passed up for its Hollywood counterpart.
Infernal Affairs (2002)
Chan Wing-Yan is part of triad boss Hon Sam’s prestigious collective. He is a hood who enforces the gang's multi-million pound dealings - and he is a police mole. Lau Kin Ming is a decorated member of the Hong Kong police force, his proven track record sees him climbing the police ladder of promotions and accolades - and he is a mole for Sam’s gang.
Tensions between the police and the triads grow when a drug raid goes wrong, and it becomes clear that both sides have an informer playing for the other team. Police superintendant Wong is Yan’s only allie in the police force, and the only man who knows of his true identity - he gives Yan the task of sniffing out Sam’s rat. Meanwhile, whilst balancing the trust of the triads, police and girlfriend Mary, Lau is instructed by Sam to discover which member of his team has been placed by the cops.
As suspicions rise and leads are followed, the two moles fight to preserve their hidden identities. As each side closes in on the truth, an urban battle between both sides of the law is coming dangerously closer to a bloody end...
Infernal Affairs II (2003)
The second instalment of the trilogy begins in 1991, nine years before the events of the original. Lau is a young member of Sam’s gang, preparing to join the police force, whilst Yan, a promising young trainee officer, has been kicked out of the academy for his triad family routes. Howver, he is contacted by Wong to become an undercover agent.
As the two become more involved with their covers, Yan is torn between his police duty and half-brother Hau, who is a triad. Hau’s time as boss is coming to an end as Sam, now an up and comer in the Ngai family, is climbing the ladder in the triad family, whilst working with Wong as an informant. Wong helps Sam as he considers him a mob boss he could control. Lau assists Sam’s rise whilst establishing himself in the force and harbouring secret feelings for Sam’s wife, Mary...
Infernal Affairs III (2003)
Following the deaths of Billy and Yan, Lau is under investigation and has been demoted in the police force. His reputation tarnished, he returns to Infernal Affairs with the knowledge that Sam had installed five moles in the division all along. He suspects SDI Yeung - and is determined to find him out.
Meanwhile, Lau’s impending divorce, fear of being uncovered, and guilt over the murder of Yan are catching up with him. Hallucinations lead him to question his sanity as he begins to feel Yans presence long after his demise...
Each film is a true genre piece, and its American influences are clear. The police/criminal relationship is played out with all the tactics and mind games of Michael Mann’s Heat, and the organised crime of the triads and the decade spanning narrative echo The Goodfather series and Goodfellas - you can imagine the filmmakers’ delight to hand the reigns to Scorsese, someone they have seemingly learnt a lot from.
Lovers of Scorsese’s stylish violence and ever memorable multi-head shot sequence will be less thrilled by killings accompanied by black-and-white, slow motion and haunting opera tones. However, whirring cameras, painful close-ups and the beautiful capture of Hong Kong and its skyscraper roof tops give the trilogy a fantastic spectacle. A lack of excessive violence and action is more than made up for by the installation of dramatic tension that is utterly engrossing.
This is due to writing of the highest quality that is acted with complete conviction by its talented cast. Andy Lau and Tony Leung Chiu Wai play the two moles with all the self-convolution, shame and denial that form the story’s most evocative theme. Mary is writing a novel about a man with twenty-eight faces - a look at a man who plays out so many different identities that he has lost his own true being. She notes, “I don’t know if he’s a good guy or a bad guy.” The two moles have spent so much time on the other side that they are losing touch with their allegiances.
Their connection is strong as they contrast each other’s situation. Yan exclaims, “You don’t know what it’s like to be undercover,” as Lau fakes a smile knowing he too has lost his identity. The tragedy of their rivalry is that they are the only two who know each other’s pain. They are by no means opposites, but they are ultimately living out each other’s lives. Yan is kicked out of the police academy and the instructors threaten, “Who wants to be next?” Lau replies under his breath, “I do.”
The second film sees Edison Chen and Shawn Yue reprise their roles as the young Lau and Yan. Unfortunately, the characters, which Lau and Wai made their own in the original, are considerably less convincing, as you are sometimes left struggling to relate them to their elder selves. The film does build on the relationship between Wong and Sam, and a scene at the beginning reveals Sam to be an informant to Wong. As Sam sits eating a police prepared meal, our memory takes us back to a far more hostile encounter between the two in the first film, which ends with Sam flinging his food aside in anger. Their friendship, mistrust and eventual rivalry is an absorbing layer to the story.
As a trilogy filled with sub-plots, flashbacks and red herrings, this film maintains a great consistency, whilst elaborations and reveals answer nagging questions from the first film satisfactorily, and offer new meaning to the characters’ actions.
The third film sees the introduction of Leon Lai as SP Yeung. The character is suspected by Lau of being another mole in the police department, thus ensues a battle of wits between the two. This rivalry never reaches the intensity or intrigue of Yan and Lau’s fight for discovery; attempting to re-create a rivalry between two undercover cops that was so riveting in the first film. This serves to emphasise that, despite the reprisal of Andy Lau and Tony Leung’s roles, the main battle of the trilogy is over. Lau and Yan both occupy different strands of the narrative, and their direct rivalry is sorely missed.
This film does, however, provide closure. With the demise of Yan, Sam, Shen and Wong in the threequel’s predecessors, we are shown the final downfall of Lau. For a character that shows such a personal struggle between good and bad, his loss of control and self educed death seems fitting, as well as tragic.
Truly an Asian giant. The first film alone is enough to make this trilogy a must-see, the second is a worthy accomplice and the third is, as genre dictates, a bit disappointing. With a complex insight in to lives of the undercover, there is enough powerful drama, cerebral pondering and complex characters to make this a classic of the crime genre. LW
Following its HMV exclusive released in October, the Infernal Affairs Trilogy gets its Amazon UK exclusive release on 27th December 2010.
Spanning ten years, likened to The Godfather trilogy, this is the crime epic of our time. Infernal Affairs Trilogy remains a landmark of both Hong King cinema and international crime cinema.
Winning 29 awards and another 38 nominations across the three films, the emphasis on character and cat-and-mouse plotting over action marked this out from previous Hong Kong cinema, while the impeccable production quality showed the rest of the world that Hong Kong cinema could compete with the best blockbusters every other cinema had to offer. It remains as powerful and riveting today as it did on release.
Infernal Affairs
Ming and Yan live parallel lives; one is undercover in the Triads for the Police, the other is a mole in the police. Eventually their paths must cross…
Infernal Affairs II
We go back ten years to see their lives as they first were when they were initially recruited into their respective roles. Friendships fracture, foes join forces and nothing is as it seams.
Infernal Affairs III
Ten months after the first film we see Ming as he attempts to fit into the police force and slowly morphing into Yan as he has to come to terms with the life he has chosen.
Starring: Tony Leung (Hard Boiled, Hero), Andy Lau (House Of Flying Daggers, The Warlords), Anthony Wong (Exiled, Vengeance), Eric Tsang (An Empress And The Warriors, Bodyguards And Assassins), Shawn Yue (Dragon Tiger Gate, Invisible Target), Edison Chen (The Dark Knight, The Grudge 2), and Kelly Chen (Breaking News, An Empress And The Warriors).
Directed by: Andrew Lau (Legend Of The Fist: The Return Of Chen Zhen, Initial D) and Alan Mak (Overheard, Initial D).
Film: Infernal Affairs - The Complete Trilogy
Release date: 27th December 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 332 mins
Director: Andrew Lau & Alan Mak
Starring: Tony Leung, Andy Lau, Anthony Wong, Eric Tsang, Shawn Yue
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Palisades Tartan
Format: Blu-ray
Country: Hong Kong/China/Singapore
Blu-ray Special Features:
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Commentary
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Making of
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Trailer
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Confidential file
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Deleted scenes
Film: Infernal Affairs III
Release date: 26th September 2005
Certificate: 15
Running time: 118 mins
Director: Andrew Lau Wai-Keung & Alan Mak
Starring: Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Andy Lau, Leon Lai, Daoming Chen, Kelly Chen
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China
The first movie in the Infernal Affairs trilogy was so good, it helped win Martin Scorsese his long-awaited Oscar for another film. Its prequel follow-up established an epic urban grandeur the like of which had rarely been seen in Hong Kong cinema before. Box-office receipts were good, worldwide critical acclaim was high. Andrew Lau and Alan Mak visit the well one last time - has it, by now, run dry?
In Infernal Affairs III, we pick up where we left off - and just before we came in. Ten months after the devastating conclusion of the first film, we return to ask the question - did Ming (Andy Lau) the ‘victor’ of that original cat-and-mouse game truly escape his “continuous hell?” The continuing saga is juxtaposed with events leading up to the film’s opening, the viewer a bystander helplessly watching two tragedies leading into their inevitable sad conclusion.
Ming becomes obsessed with atoning for his life of deception and murder, and, when he becomes convinced that old boss Sam has another mole inside the police department, he determines that arresting him will make up for everything that he did. But is Ming, whose mental state is quickly deteriorating, up to the task?
Meanwhile, in the recent past, we fill in the gaps in the life of undercover cop Yan (Tony Leung) as his life inches inexorably closer to the tragedy of the first film. The events that led up to the first film’s endgame have direct implications on Ming’s story in the present - because, as always in an Infernal Affairs film, things are never quite what they seem…
No film series, no matter how inspired, is completely immune from the law of diminishing returns, and the Infernal Affairs series is no different. That is not to say Infernal Affairs III is not good. In fact, by any standards, Part III is a fine trilogy conclusion, boasting as it does a committed performance from Andy Lau, who gets deeper into the character of Ming as the tortured detective mentally unravels from the consequences of his actions in Part I. Haunted, falling apart and being drawn helplessly into his “continuous hell,” Ming’s guilt breeds a potentially deadly paranoia, and it is to Lau’s credit that he anchors a sharp turn in a new direction for a formerly down-to-earth, gritty crime drama. Where Parts I and II presented “continuous hell” as purely an existential construct, played out against a grimy urban backdrop, Part III essays the psychology of its protagonist. As such, it lacks the emotional grandeur of - especially - the first film, but with Lau giving it everything without, crucially, straying into ‘hammy’ territory, the concluding part of the trilogy still packs a heavy emotional punch.
Lau might steal the show in Part III, but there is fine work to be found throughout the cast - most notably with Leon Lai, whose natural, appropriate impassivity is put to the best use since his turn in Wong Kar-wai’s Fallen Angels. Lai has one of the more interesting characters in the film, his Detective Yeung is a cold, calculating cop whose motives are murky, and the means used to achieve them murkier still. His early bullying of a nightclub owner is a crucial injection of energy into the film, as the loyal audience wonders if there’s any new ground to cover with Yan, Ming, Sam and Wong.
And upon closer inspection, one suspects that it was ground perhaps best left unexplored. Unlike Part II, Part III has little to add to the first film but, by this point, enriching the Infernal Affairs mythology does not seem to be the paramount concern of the filmmakers. By employing a dual narrative - one half taking place six months before the events of the first film, the other half ten months after - Lau and Mak give themselves license to bring back dead characters, making the final film more of an excuse for a cast reunion than a necessary continuation of the saga. The effect is certainly satisfying on an aesthetic level - Part III has one of the ‘starriest’ casts in recent Hong Kong cinema - but such an obvious concession to crowd-pleasing makes Part III instantly a lighter affair than its predecessors. Its commitment to accommodating its marquee names results in its split narrative, not to mention detours into the unravelling psyche of its protagonist, occasionally confusing. Audiences are used to having to pay close attention to the plot of an Infernal Affairs movie by now, but Part III slips the narrative leash more than once (the appearance, for example, of Andy Lau and Leon Lai in rather prominent roles in the flashback sequences keeps a viewer at a distance trying to figure out how this all fits together, unlike the first two movies, which kept the viewer firmly in the role of keenly-observing passenger on board a thrilling cinematic ride). But then, of course, directors Lau and Mak have a quite marvellous cast to ensure the viewer remains hooked, even when they’re slightly befuddled.
Furthermore, while the present day continuation of the Infernal Affairs story contains high levels of intrigue and suspense (even if it cannot hope to jump the bar set by the original), the flashback scenario comes loaded with a sense of inevitability it never quite shakes off, and thus has less in the way of true narrative momentum. Tony Leung is as charismatic and watchable as ever, and he certainly works extremely hard, but it just never feels like an essential chapter of the saga (though the explanation of how Yan came to be wearing a cast on his arm in Part I is a nice touch).
Not a perfect film then but, as third chapters go, Infernal Affairs III is exemplary. Where Part II forsook the first film’s central theme of redemption, and the struggle to be good, Part III places that time-worn, but always compelling cinematic theme back where it belongs - front and centre. It may offer nothing in the way of thematic conclusion, save a stinging sense of existential futility, or even anything new to say on the subject, but it grounds the more melodramatic parts of the film, and lends it an air of relevance that might not be entirely genuine.
At the conclusion of the film, which takes the viewer right up to the opening of a memorable early scene from the original movie, the viewer is in no doubt that a thrilling, memorable landmark trilogy has come to a close. JN
Film: Infernal Affairs II
Release date: 10th January 2005
Certificate: 15
Running time: 150 mins
Director: Andrew Lau Wai-Keung & Alan Mak
Starring: Anthony Wong Chau-sang, Eric Tsang, Carina Lau, Francis Ng, Edison Chen
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China/Singapore
That there was a sequel to Infernal Affairs is not a surprise. In Hong Kong, if something works, odds are it will be sequelised, or simply ripped off. Even so, the bar was high for Infernal Affairs II. Did directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak clear it, or did their endeavours fall short?
In Infernal Affairs II, Andrew Lau and Alan Mak take us back ten years, to the origins of their tragic tale. Expanding on the first film’s prologue, we see how Yan (Shawn Yue) fared once thrust into the Triad underworld, and how Ming (Edison Chen) wormed fell inextricably under the spell of Sam (Tsang).
As the drama unfolds, and the characters’ fates inch inexorably closer to the emotional and existential carnage of the first film, we see how Yan was damned by family connections he could not escape, and how Ming came to enjoy power and influence just a little bit too much…
The first Infernal Affairs was an expertly crafted, intelligent and sophisticated thriller, full of low-key suspense and underplayed tension. Part II - a prequel covering the years 1991-1997 (though any wider, socio-metaphorical relevance of the latter year is unexplored) - retains the character-first storytelling of its predecessor, but the emphasis is placed more heavily on drama than on tension. This is an origin story, showing how Yan and Ming came to be in the “continuous hell” in which we found them as grown-ups. As such, there is less of the ingenuous set-pieces and stunning plot twists, and much more emotional conflict and angst. The cat-and-mouse aspect of Part I is missed, but what is here is absolutely enthralling - because what made the first film work so well was its strong, multi-layered, contradictory characters. Lau and Mak, returning as co-directors, know that they can’t pull off the same cinematic miracle twice, and go in a brand new, exciting and fascinating direction with their saga, which begins to take on an operatic dimension.
This time, the co-protagonists are played by younger actors Shawn Yue and Edison Chen (both of whom made fleeting cameos in the first film’s establishing prologue, the continuity one of the most pleasing elements of Part II). Both are lightweight in comparison to their older counterparts - Yue’s younger Yan is a restless ball of energy, wide-eyed and more outwardly conflicted; Chen’s Ming is a sullen young man, almost eagerly accepting onto his shoulders the weight of his double-life, even as it is only just getting underway. It is a sharp contrast with the performances of the older actors, but a smart choice by the cast and filmmakers - this is our conflicted protagonists at the beginning of their long and tortuous roads. The contrast makes the prequel less of your usual quickie Hong Kong cash-in, and more of a necessary expansion of the characters and urban mythology.
The chief appeal of this second film in the saga is the performances of Anthony Wong and Eric Tsang, playing younger versions of their characters, before they became deadly enemies. To see them on friendly terms is arresting, and instantly fascinating, their straight-faced jousting of the first film replaced by a more jovial verbal sparring, drowning in tragic subtext. As cop and crook (in both generations) find themselves in ever deeper holes, the tension felt by the audience lies in not in the fears for their safety (because we know all four must survive this film to make it to the original), but in the anticipation of how they make their escape - the audience feels the dread of the “continuous hell” that we know is just beyond the horizon for them all.
Elsewhere, new faces play new characters, broadening the scope of the film to an almost epic degree. Francis Ng and Roy Cheung (both veteran villains of Andrew Lau’s Young And Dangerous series) bring acting muscle to brand new roles un-hinted at in Part I. Ng, in particular, whose reluctant Triad contains clear echoes of Al Pacino’s Michael Corleone in the first two Godfather movies (to which some have compared Infernal Affairs as a Hong Kong equivalent), and brings a new dimension to series. Ng’s performance is an affecting one, and serves to give deeper meaning to much of Tony Leung’s performance in the original movie. Cheung, in an almost wordless role as Ng’s imposing right-hand man, is a dynamic physical presence, prompting an audience to realise just how under-utilised he is in other movies.
In its writing and casting, Part II even manages to correct the glaring flaw of the first film by including a plum role for an actress. Carina Lau almost walks away with the whole film as Mary, girlfriend of Sam, whose curious, pseudo-oedipal relationship with Edison Chen’s Ming is the most compelling aspect of the film. Given that it is a relationship not hinted at in the original film, Lau and Mak work cinematic wonders to ensure that it enhances the characterisation of Ming, as played by Andy Lau.
And this gem of a screen pairing just about sums up the second film in the trilogy - a thrilling surprise of a picture that enriches repeat viewings of the (mildly superior) first film, making the viewer appreciate it even more, and not simply by favourable comparison. Andrew Lau and Alan Mak are beginning to reveal the width and breadth of the canvas on which they are painting an epic Hong Kong crime drama - the question remained, could they pull it off one more time?
A superb achievement, to offer something different while remaining faithful to the original film. Comparisons to first two Godfather movies is not hyperbole. JN
Film: Infernal Affairs
Release date: 28th June 2004
Certificate: 15
Running time: 101 mins
Director: Andrew Lau Wai-Keung & Alan Mak
Starring: Andy Lau, Tony Leung Chiu Wai, Anthony Wong Chau-sang, Eric Tsang, Kelly Chen
Genre: Crime/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong
When Infernal Affairs was released in Hong Kong, in 2002, it was described by the media as a ‘box office miracle’, resuscitating an ailing local film industry that had been experiencing one of its leanest periods. In 2006, its core story was reintroduced to international audiences as The Departed, the film which would go on to win the Best Picture Oscar. Eight years on, does it still stand up as one of the finest achievements in contemporary Asian cinema?
Yan (Tony Leung) and Ming (Andy Lau) are both Hong Kong police officers. They are also both in the employ of ruthless Triad kingpin Sam (Eric Tsang). How is this possible? Both are moles. Yan was plucked out of the police training academy as a teenager to work undercover with criminals, an assignment that has dragged on for nearly ten years, wreaking havoc on his soul and psyche in the process. Ming grew up under the guidance of Sam, and entered the police force specifically to be Sam’s man-on-the-inside.
Now, the double lives led by both men are beginning to cross, as the determined Superintendent Wong (Anthony Wong) makes it his mission to take down Sam. Yan and Ming are thrown into the deadliest game of cat-and-mouse, where the victor will reclaim his identity and honour, while the loser will spend eternity in “continuous hell…”
Commercial Hong Kong cinema, with its basic business model of quick productions generating even quicker profits, is not renowned for its traditions of slick plotting and deep characterisation. The emphasis has always been on spectacle filmmaking, the scripts - such as they are/were - functioning to justify the set-pieces, for which Hong Kong film has long been justly renowned. So, it was no surprise that Infernal Affairs - a film which effortlessly marries Hong Kong cool with a tight script full of ingenuous suspense sequences and rich character - was a standout film in the first half of the noughties, becoming a bit of a breakout cult hit when released internationally.
On first viewing, Infernal Affairs feels like a brand new experience: an intriguing set-up giving its brilliantly cast co-lead roles they may never better; and expertly crafted suspense sequences that prompt much hand-wringing from the audience (look no further than the first act drug bust sequence, with Yan and Ming behind enemy lines, desperately trying to help their real bosses, not to mention keep themselves alive afterwards; that it revolves around sly morse-code communication makes it all the more thrilling). Yet, what is most notable about the film is the way it builds on Hong Kong cinema tradition to provide that brand new experience. Infernal Affairs is the next logical step in the evolution of the Cantonese gangster movie, a direct descendant of John Woo’s equally seminal 1986 movie A Better Tomorrow, his 1989 masterpiece The Killer, and Andrew Lau’s own mid-90s Young And Dangerous saga. Those earlier films are its aesthetic, formal foundations to spin a complex, elusive tale, with an appealingly grounded, down-to-earth sensibility not found in its genre ancestors. John Woo’s films, with Chow Yun-fat in the lead role, were instant myths; the Young And Dangerous movies were relentlessly kinetic, cinematic manga, with a troublingly romantic view of the Triad lifestyle. Infernal Affairs, in contrast, combines the very best elements of urban Hong Kong cinema - the enthralling drama of Woo’s heroic bloodshed, combined with Lau’s energy and innate cool; and, topping it off, the existential ponderings connoisseurs would most frequently associate with Wong Kar-wai.
That the film recalls Wong Kar-wai’s work should be no surprise. Co-director Lau, who is also co-credited with cinematography, is a veteran collaborator of Wong’s, serving as cinematographer on As Tears Go By and sharing credit on Chungking Express with Christopher Doyle, who is credited here as Visual Consultant. Quite what Doyle’s role, and his level of influence was is perhaps unknowable upon viewing, but there’s no denying that Infernal Affairs has a unique visual look that is not quite replicated or matched in its two sequels. Hong Kong has rarely looked better than it does here; the camera capturing the beauty of the island, while also reflecting the characters’ growing sense of paranoia and isolation. Even scenes taking place in broad daylight, on rooftops overlooking the magnificent harbour, somehow manage to feel claustrophobic.
But this is also a testament to a tight script, spinning wickedly from its simple but ingenuous set-up. By placing utmost priority on the central characters, Infernal Affairs plays like an urban Shakespearean tragedy, with snap decisions and (dis)honourable impulses creating knock-on effects that spill out of the characters’ control. To claw their way out of one mess, Yan and Ming have to place themselves in an even bigger mess, creating a pervading sense of doom (or, more poetically, the concept of “continuous hell,” introduced in a subtitled Buddhist proverb over the film’s closing credits) looms large, even in the quiet, expository scenes. Yan and Ming live under a dark cloud of threat and retribution, the cloud constructed of their own existential guilt.
Co-directors Lau and Mak pull off a master-stroke with the central casting of Tony Leung and Andy Lau. Veterans of Hong Kong cinema, with numerous popular and art house films on their CVs, they were guaranteed to bring in as many mainstream as discerning viewers; their well-matched charisma sells the more stylised sequences and occasional unlikely plot-turn/contrivance; and their sheer talent conveys the slowly-mounting inner agony of both men.
Lau’s turn here was something of a surprise. One of the biggest box-office draws in all of Hong Kong cinema, known internationally for more mainstream, genre films, his quiet intensity is as alluring as it is despicable; Ming’s mouth may tell his colleagues one thing, but his eyes tell the audience another. Though he expresses a wish to simply break free of Sam’s grip, and live up to the high-achieving persona he has created for himself, Ming’s shifty, alert gaze is a window into a mind working overtime to figure out how best to save his own skin, whatever the cost.
In any other year, Andy Lau would have won the Hong Kong Film Best Actor award for which he was nominated, but the lone superior performance was in the same film. As Yan, Tony Leung brings all of the quiet, soulful sadness of his earlier award-winning role in Wong Kar-wai’s In the Mood For Love, infusing it with a more volatile, unhinged personality than we regularly see from him. With the retrospect provided by the sequels, it is easy for the audience to imagine the angst and anguish rioting in Yan’s heart; but in the first Infernal Affairs all Leung had to work with was a breakneck prologue establishing the premise. Nevertheless, ten years of deception and paranoia is etched into Leung’s face. It is a magnificent performance.
The supporting cast are not afforded the time and attention to match the central pair, but there is a brace of truly wonderful turns from Anthony Wong, whose gravitas elevates a slightly underwritten superior officer role, de facto father figure to both moles. The surprise package of the secondary roles is Eric Tsang, who eschews the buffoon persona he perfected in Sammo Hung’s Lucky Stars series (the films for which he is perhaps best known internationally) in favour of a startlingly villainous, oddly charismatic Triad boss.
Infernal Affairs is an undoubted classic of its genre, though not without the odd flaw. Its plot is dependent on contrivances made forgivable by the strength of the theme and characterisation, even if the directors’ touch with characterisation is not extended to any of the three female roles. Under-written and underplayed to the point of irrelevance, neither Kelly Chen as Yan’s appointed psychiatrist, Sammi Cheng as Ming’s live-in girlfriend (whose aspiring novelist character often feels like a missed opportunity), or Elva Hsiao as an old flame of Yan’s make a mark on the film - theirs being ‘written’ emotions that do not match the organic, genuine and raw emotions of the male cast. Cheng is a trophy girlfriend, there to represent what Ming has put at risk with his double-dealing; Chen serves as a counter-point in scenes acting as breathing space between plot sequences, her half-hearted exposition and musings telling the audience nothing Tony Leung isn’t making clearer just with his eyes; and poor Hsiao has a thankless role where she gets misty-eyed over a clichéd and obvious back-story at odds with the vitality of the rest of the film.
But these niggles are ones the viewer applies after the fact. Put simply, Infernal Affairs is a film about troubled men, and if the female characters don’t contribute much to proceedings, they certainly don’t subtract from a viewer’s enjoyment of a well-crafted, slyly plotted, and brilliantly acted thriller that is one of the finest, most enjoyable, and gripping films of its decade.
Infernal Affairs has certainly left a legacy, not just in the obvious cribbing of its visual and tonal stylings in Hong Kong/Asian cinema. As noted above, it formed the basis of Martin Scorsese’s The Departed, which went on to worldwide success, as well as awards glory - in its wake came some pleasingly sophisticated crime dramas and thrillers, most notably and recently in the directorial work of Ben Affleck, whose Gone Baby Gone and The Town owe a clear debt to Scorsese’s film and, by extension, to Scorsese’s source, Infernal Affairs. To return to the very beginning of this retrospective, it was said upon its release that the original Infernal Affairs was a ‘box office miracle’ in Hong Kong - a little bit of that miracle was sprinkled over Hollywood, and it was the movie-going public that benefited. Superlatives are exhausted. See this film if you haven’t already. JN
