Director: Kenji Tanigaki
Stars: Xie Miao, Joe Taslim, Brian Le
Japanese born action choreographer Kenji Tanigaki isn’t interested in borders or boundaries. Having worked in that capacity for over two decades, predominantly in Hong Kong, Tanigaki has had opportunities to make countless connections, a resource base he draws upon here in his international directorial breakout (though not his debut). The Furious – shot in Thailand but set in a murkily generic “somewhere in South East Asia” – draws from China, Indonesia, Malaysia and more for the talent in front of and behind the camera.
There are key western influences and ambitions. For all the Asian multiculturalism, the predominant (and predominantly dubbed) spoken language is English, and the integration of visual slapstick goes back as far as Chaplin, Lloyd and Keaton. It’s incredibly 2011-coded, openly recalling Gareth Evans’ The Raid (even stealing Evans’ trademark baddie; master martial artist Yayan Ruhian), while also calling to mind everything from video games like Sifu to the infamous corridor sequence from Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy. Oh Dae-su never rode a motorcycle down a hallway into 60 guys, mind. If The Furious is a melting pot, it is to ensure that the results offer maximum punch after punch after punch.
Seriously, there’s a lot of punching.
Wang Wei (Xie Miao) is a man without a past, or a voice. A mute widower and solo parent to his daughter Rainy (Yang Enyou), he dutifully trains her in kung fu as they prepare to emigrate back to China. That is, until she is abducted by a human trafficking ring ran by Joey Iwanaga’s psychopathic young businessman Pak Lung. Concurrently, a man named Navin (Joe Taslim) is also trying to crack the criminal enterprise, in search of his missing spouse, investigative reporter Matia Pham (a sadly under-utilised JeeJa Yanin). After a classic case of misunderstanding – and a healthy brawl of course – this duo team up to better achieve their respective goals.
The Furious breathlessly answers the question, “Surely not everyone was kung fu fighting?” with a resounding “Yes, yes they were”. Even captured children are trained in martial arts. Once the necessary set-ups are out of the way, Tanigaki punches this thing into high gear and does his best to remain there. Wang’s relentless pursuit of the kidnappers in the opening act is an early high, giving viewers a keen idea of the fast-paced and creative fight choreography that The Furious does it’s damndest to maintain. Wang isn’t just fast; he’s appreciable smart, too. Stopping a truck early on, he has the presence of mind to throw away the key to the ignition while fighting the occupants. Geography and use of the space is always key and, aside from the sheer bedlam at the end of the second act inside ‘The Snake Pit’, clarity is as acute as the film’s relentless speed.
Indeed, The Furious charges so far and so fast that it seems like it’s all wrapped up around the 80 minute mark. A two-act B-movie speedrun. Except there’s close to 40 minutes left on the clock. What on earth for? How about an extended 5-way brawl that entertains, exhausts, then re-engages; a dizzying cycle of boundless energy inside the deadliest police station outside of Raccoon City. By the time we’re down to two guys fighting with bicycles (yes bicycles), it feels as though the audience too have been thrown down a flight of stairs. That’s complimentary.
Along the way there’s some delirious highwire camerawork (gliding with the cables that run along the ceilings of corridors, or spinning to the pace of a gang hurtling up a spiral staircase), frenetic but not confused editing, and a chugging score from Olivia Xiaolin and Flying Lotus which favours maximalist metal guitar licks over the typical techno of franchises like John Wick. Meanwhile, the foley goes off with exaggerated crunches and thwacks to over-emphasis every impact. We’re continents away from reality here, operating in a universe every bit as ridiculous as the MCU, but 100 times more creative. And 100 times bloodier, too. Don’t rely on seemingly fatal blows remaining that way.
The decision to keep the locales generic has the effect of rendering The Furious deliberately apolitical. There’s no intention to comment on a specific country’s corruption or crime rates. If anything, this barnstorming action fantasy is optimistic. Here, removing one bad apple from a police force allows the remainder to enter the fray honourably. But The Furious isn’t interested much in nuance or complexities as these things tend to slow a picture down. There is space for just a bit of personal growth – Wang revises his own philosophy on turning the other cheek in front of his daughter – but not much more. Even a final opportunity for backstory is curtailed in favour of the end credits, signifying clearly what’s relevant and not here. The pertinent parts involve hitting people in the head with hammers, chairs, anything. The gusto involved makes The Furious a thunderous action movie to match it’s clear breakout ambitions. Streamlined yet utterly relentless; success is guaranteed.
The Lost Highway Hotel 