Bird Brained
Prolific director Sam Quah scales new heights – or maybe plumbs new depths – in the Asian Hellhole sub-genre.
The Fire Raven
Director: Sam Quah • Writer: Sam Quah
Starring: Peng Yuchang, Chang Chun-ning, Huang Xiaoming, Wang Xun, Josie Xu, Crystal Huang
China • 1hr 57mins
Opens Hong Kong January 24 • III
Grade: C-
Hey, it’s been a while since we had a good ol’ Asian Hellhole Thriller. And of all the boneheaded, hyperparanoid, fear-mongering (essentially) crime dramas set in anonymous not-China cities populated by Putonghua-speakers who write in some combination of Thai, Vietnamese, Malay and English (The Invisible Guest, Last Suspect, Lost in the Stars, Taiwanese entry Organ Child), Sam Quah Boon-lip’s The Fire Raven | 匿殺 is probably the apex (nadir?) of its kind; it’s an all-timer. This time around Quah, who endowed us with the cinematic genius of A Place Called Silence (twice!) and Sheep Without a Shepherd, innovated by adding a kung fu fighting Lady Cop and environmental degradation (!) to the histrionic highs that go hand-in-hand with an almost incomprehensible rape (naturally) revenge narrative. As usual the production values are just strong enough to lull you into a false sense of security; everything is polished and good-looking and there’s a starry cast, but it’s the same bullshit cautionary tale about the dangers of leaving your house. Putting a *mwah on everything, The Fire Raven begins with the straight faced-warning for viewers about imitating the behaviour seen in the film, and ends by reiterating the best way to get revenge is by contacting the authorities. Vigilantism doesn’t work! This Quah guy is a menace.
Who’s the Poirot?
The location this time is an unnamed, intensely polluted city in Doma (wait, have we heard that before?), where the underclass literally lives in Under City. The sound stage streets are teeming with poors who are infuriated by the threat of an Air Tax, some kind of levy on clean air (I really don’t know) that corrupt politician Ge Wen (Philip Keung Hiu-man in a glorified cameo) wants to push through, and that former cop, man of the people and popular politico running against Ge for… something Cai Minan (TV star Huang Xiaoming) wants to shitcan.
While all this is going on, some rando is murdered in her flashy flat and former urchin, now detective Fang Zhengnan (Chang Chun-ning, The Invisible Guest) lands the case. Helping out is her partner Lin Hongyuan (Xing Jiadong, Operation Hadal) and her crime savant slash comic artist brother Tianyang (Peng Yuchang, also in Gezhi Town and Unexpected Family, all opening this week), who BTW has a bionic leg. Because reasons. Fang’s team is in a race with rival detective Edward (Wang Xun, The Lychee Road), who’s so obviously a rat bastard he may as well be wearing whiskers. Seems the dead woman has a shady AF connection to a couple of gangsters, Shang Zhan (Alan Aruna) and Tong Cai (Hao Ping), who wind up on what’s clearly a hit list, which the po-po discover because of Tianyang’s drawings. Cue a series of hilarious murders by a guy in a raven’s mask during the traditional Crowmoot holiday (?) – occasionally aided by actual ravens.
The Fire Raven (there’s no fire) really needs to be seen to be disbelieved. Many, many, many crime thrillers like this have contrivances and lunatic plot twists in their DNA, and that’s fine. John Wick, Memento and most of Ringo Lam’s oeuvre are nothing without their singular ridiculousness; John Woo’s Face/Off sits on the grand council of the bonkers thrillers pantheon. But each of those films can also trot out perfect casting, committed performances and, crucially, an internal logic that makes them work. The Fire Raven wants to play in that kind of sandbox but it’s hysteria gets in the way, as does its cookie-cutter construction, completely in line with this sub-genre. We get the “shocking” twist, the conspiracy reveal in a rehash of the bloated contents that came 20 minutes before (in case you fell asleep at any point, which is highly likely), colourless characters and sensationalism as a baseline. That’s not including the tired rape plot that gives the victim no voice and no agency. She’s an inciting incident for everyone else – and she gets about as much screen time as the birds.