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Film: Detective Dee: Mystery Of The Phantom Flame
Year of production: 2010
UK Release date: 27th June 2011
Distributor: Cine Asia
Certificate: 15
Running time: 119 mins
Director: Tsui Hark
Starring: Andy Lau, Carina Lau Ka Ling, Lee Bingbing, Deng Chao, Tony Leung Ka Fai
Genre: Action/Crime/Fantasy/Martial Arts/Thriller
Format: DVD
Country of Production: China/Hong Kong
Language: Mandarin
Review by: Daryl Wing
In most cases, a film in the whodunit genre suffers second time round for obvious reasons – the outcome is no longer a riddle, no matter how unfathomable previously, while its twists and turns lack the thrill of the chase on repeat viewings. Therefore, it’s welcome relief that Director Tsui Hark (Once Upon A Time in China) has teamed up with writer Chen Kuo Fu (The Message, Double Vision) and choreographer Sammo Hung to add some much needed action to proceedings. But will the interesting premise of a detective story crossed with a historical actioner set during the Tang Dynasty bring the audience back for more?
A series of mysterious murders involving internal combustion is seemingly going to prevent the inauguration of China's first Empress (Carina Lau). She is forced to seek help from Detective Dee (Andy Lau), renowned as the greatest investigative mind and kung fu master of his generation.
Bringing him back from exile to embark on a manhunt, the reluctant Dee is helped by Wu’s loyal aide (Li Bingbing), and it isn’t long before their progress is hindered by fire beetles, creepy assassins and double-crossers, who will all go to murderous lengths to stop the coronation and destroy the empire once and for all…
With a tepid opening, including laughable attempts to set people on fire using computer generated images (it doesn’t bode well), Detective Dee is initially a bit of a struggle. Hindered further by obvious wire-work throughout and a rugged hero you would normally see sitting beneath a cashpoint in town begging for change, it’s difficult to see where the entertainment is going to come from.
It’s also hard to decide whether or not the plentiful use of CGI here is necessary. Sure, the landscapes and backdrops are dazzling, and they sit nicely with the style of the film, but at times it feels a little bit too artificial, as if we’re watching a detective story more akin to Scooby Doo rather than Sherlock Holmes. The underground city, with its ghostly villains, is the only exception, with a spooky setting that works well and manages to send a shiver or two down the spine. However, with a plot struggling to make sense of suspicions and internecine strife, it’s a relief when the action takes over and we’re catapulted into a fantasy fight-fest.
Choreographed by Hong Kong maestro Sammo Hung, the action is inventive and exhilarating for the most part, whether Dee is battling against the feisty Jinger (the film’s highlight), sparring with super-villains or dueling with a yakking deer. The latter, despite its weirdness, somehow doesn’t sit out of place, and actually offers some edge-of-the-seat entertainment when it finally kicks off. The wire-work still grates, but with scenes so swift and energetic, it’s hard not to get sucked into such a bizarre world; its lengthy running time barely noticeable thanks to the plot’s cracking pace.
With Tsui Hark needing to rediscover some of his early style and verve, it was unlikely that his impressive cast was ever going to let him down. Having said that, they barely get a chance to endear themselves to the audience because characterization and development is ditched in favour of a speedy storyline, allowing little time to breath with set-piece after set-piece unleashed on the giddy audience. Lau will please most, especially post-shave, but at times he does seem to be strolling, longing for a meatier role, and it would’ve been more interesting to see him continue with his Jack Sparrow impersonation, rather than a fancy-footed Jack Bauer.
Western audiences will probably lap this up, and will no doubt enjoy the tongue-in-cheek vibe that complements the frenetic action, especially when Dee explores the darkly sinister netherworld during the second act, devouring its delicious villains engineering outrageous methods to inflict damage on Dee’s quest. The soundtrack more than matches the look of a film that somehow comes at a fraction of the cost of a Hollywood blockbuster and yet still feels like one.
Tsui Hark keeps the film quirky and engaging thanks to a beautiful visual sense filled with unexpected, for its genre, poetic touches and costumes straight out of a fairytale. The whodunit may be predictable (it certainly won’t tax the brain), but it’s also ultimately pointless, and in that sense Detective Dee surprises – you won’t be bothered in the slightest as the mask is whipped from our antagonist’s noggin - you’ll just be relishing another body-busting battle instead.
Add to that the welcome twists in the final act, with the auteur embracing his “to achieve greatness, everyone is expendable” line by making sure we understand that no-one (almost) is safe, and you’ll soon forgive, or even forget, the slow opening with its poor effects and lazily sped-up rooftop action.
Detective Dee abandons the mystery its audience may expect and replaces it with gorgeous visuals, breathtaking action sequences and a few quirky touches that transform this slow-starter into a satisfying actioner worthy of your attention.
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Film: Fulltime Killer
Release date: 29th March 2004
Certificate: 18
Running time: 100 mins
Director: Johnny To, Wai Ka-Fai
Starring: Andy Lau, Takashi Sorimachi, Simon Yam, Kelly Lin, Cherrie Ying
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Studio: Tartan
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong
Before receiving awards and plaudits around the globe with movies such as Exiled and the Election series, Johnnie To already had a wide array of films to his name. Looking back on some of his lesser known works, such as this adaption of the Pang Ho-Cheung novel ‘Fulltime Killer’, gives a revealing insight into a director who has been developing and honing his skills for years.
The story starts showing O undertaking a hit. He is calm and methodical. When confronted by an old friend, he doesn't hesitate in killing him in order to protect himself. Then we meet another professional hit-man, Tok. When his first assassination involves a bagful of grenades, we see he is a man who is more interested in the impressive style in which he takes people out in rather than any sense of dignity or composure.
O is the better, renowned for his efficiency and ability to stay below the radar, whereas Tok is new to the game, and wants to make a name for himself in any way possible. Tok knows the only way to do this is to be the man to take down the infamous O, and will do anything in his power to draw him out.
This bait comes in the form of Chin, O's house cleaner and the only person O seems to care for, although their relationship is one of voyeurism and hidden feelings as his paranoia and insecurity stops him from being able to relate to her in any meaningful way. Tok enters her life and initiates her into the world these two men live in through his charm, and a charisma that O lacks.
As a deadly game of cat and mouse plays out between O and Tok, Agent Lee, an Interpol agent tasked with the unenviable task of finding and stopping the two, starts to close in as their battle of wits draws him ever closer to his goal. With a desire that borders on obsession to bring both men to justice, he will go to any lengths to get to the pair before they escape him again.
As events escalate, it is only a matter of time before they must finally confront each other to see just who the better is, and who will get caught in the crossfire…
With a brooding and calm demeanour, Takashi Sorimachi shows us O as a man who excels at a job where emotions are distractions he can't handle, yet who longs for something tangible and real as his self-enforced detachment and solitude have left him so secretive that he doesn't so much live his own life, as watch it from afar.
Meanwhile, Andy Lau brings his usual charisma to the role of Tok, a character who revels in his own notoriety. He is brash, easily excitable and never shy about expressing his emotions, whether through words or, often times, acts of extreme violence.
The contrasts between the two are shown often. Each has his own distinct colour, suited to their personality, which bathes them throughout the movie - ice cold blue for O and a fiery red for Tok. The way in which they undertake their assignments also reveals an insight into how their minds work differently to achieve a common goal. However, it is scenes where they react to being double crossed that the parallel between the two is best shown. O calmly exacts a clinical yet devastating retribution on the man who betrayed him, while Tok charges headlong into the trap, taking glee in springing it, trusting on nothing more than his own ability to get him through, before gleefully turning the tables on those who wronged him.
As the object of both of the protagonists’ affection, it is nice to see Kelly Lin play such a strong character in what could easily have been a one-dimensional ‘damsel in distress’ role. Instead, she quietly keeps the story flowing. At first, she is seemingly caught up in the madness caused around her by her contact with the two killers, but then it slowly becomes apparent that she has masterfully orchestrated her way into their world as a solution to her “quiet” and “boring” life. Her scenes with O and Tok help to establish the differences between them outside of their profession. The former watching her from a distance but unable to make the contact he desires, while the latter literally bursts into her life with his cocky and assured approach.
The standout, however, is Simon Yam, a man obsessed with O. He has seen the damage that O has caused and wants it to end. His chance comes when Tok enters the scene and O is forced to take a reactive role which finally brings him into Yam’s cross-hairs. Upon finally meeting O, his grin is wolfish and predatory, perfectly conveying his joy of the hunt yet also his excitement at the chance to end it. It is only after a botched arrest attempt when he is physically unable to pursue O any longer that he is forced to take in the scope of the damage his obsession has caused to those around him, beautifully conveyed as he surveys a street that is littered with his dead and wounded team.
This leads to an unconventional final act as the film starts to follow him and his descent into despair. This is unexpected and slightly disappointing as the focus is taken off the two killers. However, it is thanks to Yam's performance that this works as we see how his encounters with these two killers have left him a broken man. There is no gung-ho desire for revenge as might have been expected, but instead we see a man who has lost everything to his obsession. Yet he is still so close to the case that even though his role in the story between the two is over, he must find out how the story ends in order to have any kind of catharsis.
As you would expect with a Johnny To film, the action scenes are shot and staged beautifully - a gun fight where the three finally meet at an apartment building is a highpoint that any action fan will want to see for themselves. The only problem is the final face off between the two. After so many excellent yet varied action sequences showcasing the differences between how O and Tok operate, the pay-off to the entire movie is quite short and plagued by an over reliance on a pop culture reference that takes away some of the tension in favour of ridiculousness. Whilst it doesn't ruin the movie, the fact that it can't live up to the standards that have been previously set is slightly unsatisfying.
Star turns, a decent script and some dazzling fight choreography stop this time old tale of a newcomer trying to prove himself to the old hand from being anything but predictable. It conveys the differences between the two killers without judgement. There is no good or bad guy, and this means there is a layer of investment in these characters that make the final outcome all the more potent. DM
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
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
Film: House Of Flying Daggers
Release date: 2nd May 2005
Certificate: 15
Running time: 114 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang
Starring: Ziyi Zhang, Andy Lau, Takeshi Kaneshiro, Dandan Song, Hongfei Zhao
Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Fantasy/Martial Arts/Romance
Studio: Pathe
Format: DVD
Country: China/Hong Kong
A triumphant work of artistic and directional genius, House Of Flying Daggers is an action romance that follows the tale of Mei, a suspected vigilante, and Jin, a governmental official, as they fight hidden enemies in search of the rebel group House of Flying Daggers. Having received international rave reviews, and an alleged 20 minute standing ovation at the Cannes Film Festival, it is no wonder that House Of Flying Daggers remains at the top of many a film lover’s list.
Set during the decline of Tang Dynasty China, the government and its officials are riddled with corruption. Amongst civil unrest, an underground alliance named House of Flying Daggers emerges with the purpose of combating corruption, and fairly redistributing the country’s wealth among its people.
While respected and revered by the common mass, House of Flying Daggers is hated by the local deputies who have vowed to destroy the allegiance. Despite having recently murdered the old leader of the Flying Daggers, the rebel group only becomes stronger due to the presence of a mysterious new leader, whom Captain Jin (Takeshi Kaneshiro) and Captain Leo (Andy Lau) of the Chinese authority are given ten days to find and destroy.
Leo sends Jin, a flirtatious and unscrupulous playboy, to investigate claims that a Daggers affiliate is masquerading as a show girl at the Peony Pavilion. At the brothel, they find and arrest the beautiful blind artisan Xiao Mei (Zhang Ziyi), a dagger wielding martial arts master with a political agenda. Mei is incarcerated as rumours circulate that she is in fact the blind daughter of the late Daggers leader. In a cunning plot, Leo and Jin plan to trick Mei into leading them to the Daggers secret location.
Under the false pretence of being an admirer of the Daggers, Jin springs Mei from prison and leads her away from the governmental officials - or so she thinks. The two are followed closely by Leo and the local militia, who fake an ambush to convince Mei of Jin’s sincerity. Apparently blissfully unaware of the scheme, Mei begins to trust Jin, and an unlikely romance blossoms, as Jin’s game of trickery and deceit escalates into a real life and death drama, where the two find themselves battling unseen foes in their quest for safety and to find the concealed Daggers…
House Of Flying Daggers is an undisputable triumph of both acting and direction. Zhang Yimou’s signatory use of riotous colour makes the film an opulent reflection of the Tang dynasty, whose art work is typified by the type of grandeur that Zhang Yimou infuses this film with. The visuals themselves are so spectacular that they move as a piece of artwork, and continue to transcend the usual role of scenery in film. In this case, Zhang Yimou has achieved a remarkable harmony between scenery and plot, where the background becomes as important, if not more, than the story line itself.
Unlike previous martial arts films, House Of Flying Daggers provides the perfect melange of nail biting romance and heart stopping action. The kung fu throughout is gorgeously choreographed, and acts to enrich both the plot and setting. Moving effortlessly through the air, these blood-splattering, action packed encounters add to the sense of mystery and drama, as well as providing a visual thrill for the audience.
The use of sound throughout is extremely important, and masterfully heightens and intensifies the film experientially. Musical whiz kid Umebayashi is behind the score for House Of Flying Daggers. This sensitive soundtrack amalgamates eastern and western influences to provide a contemporary, yet in keeping take on traditional Chinese music.
The storyline is a little wanting, and the characters are superficial without much depth or development. The script is clichéd and a little predictable throughout the middle section, however, the final scenes make up for the lacklustre build up. Despite all this, the plot is not disappointing, as the main emphasis in the film is that of the visual and audio sensationalism, which more than compensates for any storyline flaws. The story, like that in an opera, is not crucial to the overall experience but merely provides a spider web framework in which Zhang Yimou weaves his phantasmagorical action-romance.
Interestingly, the foundation of a weak script does not equate to poor performances from any of the actors. Before taking on the role of Mei, Zhang Ziyi is rumoured to have spent two months preparation time with a young blind girl, in order to perfect and authenticate her performance. This would indeed be no surprise as her portrayal of the blind Mei is flawless. Zhang Ziyi brings an exciting dimension to the character of this gritty and determined young girl, by ensuring that Mei’s hard façade is penetrated by moments of endearing vulnerability and displays of passionate love, anger and hatred.
Zhang Ziyi’s ephemeral beauty juxtaposed with Xiao Mei’s serious martial arts skills makes this no-nonsense vigilante the deserved heroine of the film. Takeshi Kaneshiro’s performance of Jin brings this cheeky chappy to life. The womanizing Jin, however, is no match for Xiao Mei, and it must be said that despite his characteristically good acting, Takeshi Kaneshiro could not hold a torch next to Ziyi’s. Andy Lau proves himself to be a likely contender for the title of Daggers Heart throb, as he plays his role of the focused Captain Leo credibly, and adds a certain mysterious je ne sais quoi to the character.
This gripping love story, laced with espionage and betrayal, is a sure hit. Zhang Yimou’s glorious utilisation of colour, coupled with his ingenious take on audio sound effects, acts to showcase this directors true talent. The thoroughly convincing performances by the entire cast, especially Zhang Ziyi, will embroil you in this twisting tale, filled with double bluffs and surprising turns. House Of Flying Daggers is an absolute must see, that will act to either inspire or feed your kung fu film addiction, and is guaranteed to leave you gasping for more. HRP
Film: Battle Of Wits
Release date: 18th January 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 133 mins
Director: Jacob Cheung
Starring: Andy Lau, Ahn Sungki, Wang Zhi Wen
Genre: Action/Drama/War
Studio: In2Film
Format: DVD
Country: China
The complexities of war are examined in Battle Of Wits, a period action drama set during China's infamous Warring States Period. A little research shows that, during that particular era (circa 470 to 220 BC), China was split into many states, each attempting to usurp power from and conquer each other. Unification would eventually arrive in the guise of Qin Shi Huang, China’s first Emperor, and a man whose story was wonderfully stylised in Zhang Yimou's hugely celebrated film Hero. While the films may share common settings and historical backgrounds though, the similarities end there. Hero was a shiny, stylised kung fu superhero movie, whereas Battle Of Wits is a much more down to earth and gritty proposition.
The story takes place during 370 BC, in the city-state of Liang, a small entity which finds itself under threat from the much larger kingdom of Zhao. Liang’s defence consists of a comparative handful of soldiers as opposed to Zhao's army, which is fast-approaching thousands and led by revered General Xiang Yanzhang (played by Ahn Sung-Ki). Liang has an ace up its sleeve, however: an undertaking from the Mozi to send help.
The Mozi people are followers of Mohism, a Chinese philosophy that encourages a form of ‘universal love’ and moral righteousness, preaching against offensive acts and personal extravagance (or capitalism. as we now know it). As such, it is surprising that the Mozi decide to help Liang's selfish and drunken King (Wang Zhiwen). But Mozi help does arrive, in the decidedly Jedi-esque form of Ge Li (Andy Lau), who shows up alone at Liang’s gates. He's just one man, but one thing we know from cinema is never to underestimate one man in a cape and hood. Within minutes, he's convinced Liang's citizens to fight back, if only to protect their lives from certain subjugation and cruelty at Zhao's hands.
Being a devout pacifist (and yet a master strategist), Ge Li obviously cannot follow the usual high kicking, sword wielding path to victory over Zhao. Instead he must focus on teaching the citizenry of Liang how to defend themselves. Some people, including Liang's Royal Tutor (Wu Ma) and Prince Liang Shi (Choi Si-Won), are (sensibly) initially suspicious of their would-be saviour, as he asks for complete control of Liang's army and total obedience in order to carry off his plan. What he doesn't want is any payment, or comfort - he won't accept gifts and opts to sleep in the stables. Like all great heroes, it seems that doing good is his reward.
While everyone agrees to this proposal, he's initially distrusted by some of the populace, but before too long they're devoted followers. Among those he carries in thrall are chief archer Zi Yuan (Nicky Wu) and cavalry chief Yi Yue (Fan Bing-Bing), who starts to develop a romantic interest in Ge Li. Even Xiang Yanzhang soon grows to respect him, because on the battlefield Ge Li is untouchable. His skills and strategy ensure the safety of Liang and a lifetime of hero worship. However, Ge Li's popularity earns him a very powerful enemy: the King of Liang himself...
Battle Of Wits is essentially a story with two distinct halves. The first portion of the film depicts Ge Li's arrival, rising influence, and initial clashes and skirmishes with Xiang Yanzhang's army. We get the impression that we are watching a clever, insightful action/war movie - one that may get us thinking. The battle scenes, too, are a change from the usual high flying pageantry we’ve become so used to. The fight scenes are dirty, nasty and a simple combination of skin and steel. While the action can be hard to follow, and the CGI isn’t always of the highest calibre, it appears to strike a refreshing chord for those who may just be little bit jaded with the flying warriors formula.
All this good work is soon undone though as the film reaches its second half. Andy Lau is a fine performer, but his attempts at humility just do not work. He manages to prostrate himself in a way that makes the grandest posturing of the most arrogant rock star seem even keeled. When this is coupled with the upright morality the film overly espouses - anyone who doesn’t openly embrace Ge Li’s ‘universal love’ concept is soon shown to be greedy and a coward. His black-and-white world view is unreal, and, in the context of what had seemed like such a grounded action movie, it is particularly jarring.
As the story continues, the film presents many ethical and philosophical questions. We are asked to consider the ethical treatment of P.O.W.’s, whether all is, in fact, fair in war time, and can the notion of ‘universal love’ work among a varied and non indoctrinated population? Unfortunately, none of these questions are ever really explored to any great depth, leaving the film stranded somewhere between gritty epic and badly thought out message movie.
Battle Of Wits is a decent film - nothing more. It will never be a milestone in the industry, or indeed the genre, but there is enough here to entertain us. Where it falls down is in not quite being one thing or another. Early promise and potential are squandered in the second half of the film. There are good ideas here; it just seems that Jacob Cheung wasn’t the right man to explore them. PD
Film: The Warlords
Release date: 2nd March 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 108 mins
Director: Peter Ho-Sun Chan
Starring: Jet Li, Andy Lau, Takeshi Kaneshiro, Xu Jinglei
Genre: Action/Drama/War/History
Studio: Metrodome
Format: DVD
Country: China/Hong Kong
Director Peter Ho-Sun Chan unites three of Asian cinema’s most prolific and charismatic leading men for an epic of war, morality and betrayal loosely based on one of “the great unsolved mysteries” of China in the Qing Dynasty.
1865. China has been ravaged by a decade-long civil war that is eroding the will of the nation. Destiny brings together three men, soldiers all, whose decisions and actions may yet decide the fate of the country. Brothers Er-Hu (Lau) and Wu-Yang (Kaneshiro) are joined by General Pang (Li), an unpredictable warrior haunted by a moment of rare cowardice, and driven mad by his need to atone for it.
With Pang uniting and organising their ragged army, Er-Hu and Wu-Yang soon become major players in the war for China. But, as their army marches across the land, each man’s moral code is tested by difficult and potentially soul-shattering decisions. Can they make free their country before destroying each other?
It is strange to consider that Jet Li, like Jackie Chan, is now very much an elder statesman of Chinese martial arts/action cinema. After twenty-plus years of working mostly within his righteous hero persona, Jet Li takes his longest stride away from his comfort zone with The Warlords, a grim, brutal historical epic. General Pang may share martial proficiency with Li’s back catalogue of heroic figures, but where he differs is in his tenuous grip on his own sanity, and an agenda that seems anything other than honourable. Like Jackie Chan’s recent attempt to exercise his acting muscles with The Shinjuku Incident, Li seeks to subvert his cinematic persona - his performance distorting his usually impassive features with tinges of bloodlust and a megalomaniacal frenzy. While the end result is a slightly over-cooked turn that ultimately does not match the sheer perfection of his necessarily blank performance in Zhang Yimou’s Hero, Li’s acting is nevertheless a notch above what his star vehicles usually permit him to do, his unhinged delivery extremely effective within the parameters of a war fable.
He is ably supported by his two co-stars. Andy Lau’s Er-Hu, the most honourable and conflicted of the trio, is an over-stuffed box of pent-up frustration surely destined to explode. Lau plays him with a measured stillness that is slowly, hauntingly, inevitably undone, and his performance here is arguably his best since 2002’s Infernal Affairs. But the star turn, almost predictably, is from Takeshi Kaneshiro, who makes believable the about-faces and suddenly redefined motivations the script thrusts upon Wu-Yang. Together, the three leading men form three pillars of a morality tale which, though fairly simplistic in its examination of necessity-during-war, is far more compelling than its occasionally pedestrian and predictable narrative.
The film itself is a stirring, searing war epic that owes as much to Greek, Shakespearean and operatic tragedy traditions as it does to Asian action cinema. Its battle sequences, directed by Ching Siu-tung, are visually stunning slices of pure excitement, even if they lack the crisp clarity of Ching’s work in the aforementioned Hero, and the screenwriter’s decision to gradually narrow the focus of the film to the characters and their emotional motives is a welcome change from war films that walk blindly into a chaotic final battle sequence. Both action and drama are shot with the lush, meticulous hand of the venerable Arthur Wong, whose cinematography conjures up some truly memorable images, not least the sight of a horrified Andy Lau standing in a sea of dead soldiers after a mass execution.
But, as stellar as The Warlords is on a technical level, there remain persistent niggles with a slightly underdeveloped script that is oddly elliptical, suggesting a film that’s received the kind of savaging in the editing room that its principal characters inflict upon each other on-screen. Whole scenes and sequences seem to be missing (for example, a siege of Nanking - presented as a bone of contention between the three conflicted lead heroes - is strangely skipped over), leaving viewers scrabbling to connect the dots. Likewise, a pseudo love triangle involving Jet Li, Andy Lau and Xu Jinglei’s Lian is hinted at, but never fully explored or committed to, and is eventually utilised purely as a device through which the script can swiftly put its main characters at-odds going into its third act, which unfolds with the inevitability of Shakespeare and the carnage of John Woo. In addition, any allegorical contemporary relevance to which the film might aspire is buried too deep beneath the violent, visceral aesthetic to truly resonate. While it may play very well for local audiences, The Warlords is likely to at least mildly alienate overseas viewers. That should not, however, detract from an often-exhilarating cinematic experience.
Subtlety is not on the menu for this feast of blood and carnage, but The Warlords is an effective historical epic with more than enough well-staged action to recommend it. The action is complimented by fine work from the cast, and Arthur Wong’s visuals are stunning. JN
