Pre-digital Hong Kong genre
cinema holds a great fascination for me, not so much for the technical
achievements, the jaw-dropping stuntwork, or the bonkers ideas they throw
around, but for the ambience of their visuals.
They can look beautifully garish as in many of the set bound Shaw Bros martial arts films or dirt-lickingly
grotty as in some of the sleazier Category III films. They even manage to mix the two from time to
time. The way Hong Kong is often
portrayed is as alternately glamorous as it is dangerous. Decked out nightclubs with gorgeous women and
men in white suits are a staple.
Conversely, blown out ratholes where people in jeans and cheap tee
shirts are forced to live provide the flip side.
It’s not so much that this
dichotomy exists, it’s that these films give the impression that these two
strata of society exist essentially on top of one another. There is the distinct sense that if a
character opened the wrong door in a discotheque, they’d be met with a sweaty,
stabby, rapey nightmare to set the old spine a-tingling. It’s as if everyone is trapped within the
city, like a real-life Escape from New
York, and some denizens have merely managed to crawl to the top and
accumulate wealth which only further buffers them from the dregs beneath them
(or so they hope).
Now, I’m no expert on Hong Kong
films, and I’ll admit I haven’t seen nearly as many as others have, but the one
thing which partly defines a lot of them from my perspective (particularly in
the Crime arena) is this idea of the callous villainy of the wealthy versus the
desperate ambition of the poor. This is
reinforced for me through the texture of the visuals. The more realistic Hong Kong films have a
certain grainy, desaturated look, and the worlds created are often filled with
box-strewn warehouses, cluttered streets, and clogged up piers. I can’t say how close to reality any of this
is (and that’s really not the point anyway), but from films like Lam Nai-Choi’s Men from the Gutter (aka An
Qu), I would suggest that my theories only gather more support.
In his lousy tenement apartment,
Wang (Parkman Wong Pak-Man) climbs
out of bed in the middle of the night, crushes the cockroaches scuttling on his
lunch, and ventures out to meet his ex-con pals Long (Lung Tin-Sang) and Brainless (Billy
Lau Nam-Kwong) to discuss their big plan to get rich. But the police are onto Wang, and an officer
is killed while trying to apprehend him, sending Sgt. Zhao (Venom Clan alumnus Lo Meng) into a frenzy. Meanwhile, fellow policeman Qiu (Michael Miu Kiu-Wai) is investigating
the murder of Zeng Cai (Lee Hoi-Sang),
bodyguard of criminal kingpin Xu Wen (Wong
Yung), by Zi Jian (Jason Pai Piao)
and their ties to each other.
Complicated stuff.
Perhaps the oddest thing about Men from the Gutter is that it is, on
its surface, two separate crime stories the only linkage between which is the
police officers. Nonetheless, I would offer
up that Lam and company are treating
the Crime genre in a metaphorical way (while still delivering a cracking good
Action film) and attempting to look at more than one side of the lower echelons
of society in relation to crime. Zi
Jian’s motivations are revenge and honor.
He has no real avaricious goals in mind.
Wang’s motivation is one hundred percent monetary. He gets very upset every time he thinks about
all that he doesn’t have. He believes that money will solve all his
problems. As the title suggests, then, Zi
Jian is coming out of the gutter to get at Xu Wen, to drag him back down into
the gutter. Wang is in the gutter struggling
to get out by any means necessary. Zhao
and Qiu are the forces of order, standing in the gutter up to their waists,
trying to maintain control while not going under. In the gutter, a person has to do what’s
necessary, but there is always the element of choice, and the end goal (personified
by a freighter and its captain) is not guaranteed. From this viewpoint, the film begins to take
focus as more than the sum of its parts, even though it may not appear obvious
at first glance.
The film is also loaded with
images of characters watching and being watched, predominantly in the narrative
of Zi Jian and Xu Wen. Photos are taken
of Xu Wen at a restaurant with Zi Jian in the background. After being questioned by Qiu, Xu Wen looks
at himself in a mirror while crime scene photographers snap pictures. Zi Jian is shown making love to a prostitute
in the reflection from his eyeglass lenses.
Later, he takes a slingshot and a metal ball and shoots the image of
himself in his hotel mirror. He checks
his teeth in reflections in a store front window as well as in a fitness club
mirror. Point of view shots play into
this as well. At the gym, Zi Jian sneaks
up on an unsuspecting guy (in POV) and knocks him out for his clothes. Later, there is a POV shot following Zi Jian
(and in which he again checks himself out in a mirror). If these are just stylistic affectations or
character quirks, they are lingered on longer and are more numerous than one
might expect. I tend to think that the
reflections are how the characters remove themselves from their world. By engaging with a mirror, staring into
oneself, they are disengaging from reality and fortifying themselves for what
lies ahead. Similarly, POV shots like
those herein tend to disengage the viewer from the film’s reality (we don’t
share what’s in the minds of the characters through whose eyes we see),
targeting where they’re headed rather than what surrounds them in the
moment. The characters are watchers and
watched, within and without themselves, and a similar affinity is reached with
the film’s viewer through these visual choices of the filmmakers.
Men from the Gutter is surprisingly non-exploitative, as well. Aside from one shot and a scene with some
bare breasts, there’s no sex (consensual or non-consensual). There is a decent amount of violence and
blood, but not nearly to the levels of gore showcased in some of the Shaw Bros both at this point in time
and in the past. Outside of the film’s
outstandingly heightened climactic sequence, the film is rooted firmly in
reality. That said, the final set piece
does contain acrobatics and nigh-superheroic levels of stamina. It also has a huge (and I mean that both
literally and figuratively) concluding moment that will truly make your jaw
drop. But the film never goes off the
rails, and it does a very admirable job of balancing its elements. If you’re an Action film fan, and you haven’t
seen this film, you need to (it’s available with subtitles on Youtube).
MVT: I love the character of
Zi Jian, especially as brought to life by Jason
Pai Piao. He’s odd and colorful,
clearly dangerous, but also with a noble air about him.
Make or Break: The heist
scene is marvelously orchestrated. It’s
complex, gritty, and clearly blocked and edited. I think that, in some ways at least, it
encompasses all of the emotional heart of the film as well as the thematic
points.
Score: 7/10
