Originally slated to be a smaller production with Lau Ching Wan and Francis Ng in the leads, the screenplay impressed enough to rope in Andrew Lau as co-director and with it an even more A-list cast and a higher production budget. The latest news is that within two days of screenings in Hollywood it has been picked up for a remake as a Brad Pitt vehicle.The results do not disappoint in what is HK cinema's slickest neo noir movie for some time to come. Sipping at the font of John Woo and Ringo Lam, this takes the best of the heroic bloodshed and undercover cop genres infused with a stylish twist - instead of a lone undercover cop in the underworld there is the counterpart of an undercover triad mole in the police force. Narrated initially in a sequence of flashbacks, the two youths ( Edison Chen bearing a startling resemblance to Andy Lau and hunk du jour Shawn Yu who in no streak of the imagination can be visualised as a young Tony Leung Chiu Wai ) are inducted into their eventual fate by the ritualistic police cadet training and sacrificial triad initiation rites. Cut to the grown up characters Ming (a smugly cool Andy Lau ), now a high ranking police inspector and wiseguy Yan (a dishevelled Tony Leung Chiu Wai ) meeting matter-of-factly in a Mongkok Hi Fi shop discussing the merits of audiophile tube gear. The pace then escalates frenetically into a series of covert operations led by their respective bosses - police chief Wong ( Anthony Wong ) against triad kingpin Sam ( Eric Tsang ). In this cat and mouse game of attack and defence, both Ming and Yan - leading parallell double lives are at the forefront of the action - each harbouring the hidden agenda of protecting their true bosses. The ubiquitous HK triad use of mobile phones is played to heightened effect (undoubtedly with product placement a motivating factor). Each escapes just in the nick of time in the suspense charged proceedings with stylish cinematography by Yee Chung Man which culminate in an impressive group face off with guns drawn. But soon enough the chips are down and suspiscions and tensions run up. Caught in the shady ground between the archetypal good and evil, the characters and audience come upon the realisation that things are not as simple as black and white. Ming has gotten used to the affluent lifestyle of a young professional that being an inspector brings. He is also weary of doing the dirty at the beck and call of his triad boss. Yan on the other hand is wary of losing his identity as a cop - so much so that he has regular sessions with a pretty shrink ( Kelly Chen ). Only one person knows of his true identity - echoes of the Tony Leung character in Hard Boiled . He has also gotten close to his triad comrades in arms, some of whom have died loyally, protecting him - think City On Fire . In their own way, both want out but that in itself is only possible for one of them. When Yan's police supervisor suffers a gruesome death, only Ming holds the key to his past. As fate would have it, Yan inadvertently stumbles upon Ming's true identity. The final showdown between them is nail biting to say the least and no more will be said in the spirit of not being a spoiler. There are in fact two endings to this movie and you may decide for yourself which is more appropriate. Both leads excel at the parts with Andy Lau sliding easily into his cool persona with charm and Tony Leung really standing out as the brooding character actor he is, all pent up existential angst lurking beneath. Previous best actor award winners Anthony Wong and Eric Tsang acquit themselves well. The female leads however, star power cameos by Sammi Cheng - a audience popular pairing with Andy - as Ming's writer girlfriend and Kelly Chen as the psychiatrist in whose arms Yan finds consolation, appear to be ornamental. The youthful versions of the leads are intended for a prequel of sorts and Edison smirks eerily like Andy. The cop and wiseguy world - to which co-director Andrew Lau is no stranger, from his Young And Dangerous days - is created in slick designer tones with a mood sometimes reminiscent of his time with Wong Kar Wai. Ultimately, it is the moral ambiguity of the characters - a mainstay of the genre that has always bequeathed a psychological edge and emotional depth to its characters - that gives this film its soul. The Chinese title refers to the lowest of the 18 depths of hell in Buddhist beliefs - a state of eternal suffering and condemnation. This is the state that the eventual winner of the game (in the original ending) finds himself, for in a game such as this - to paraphrase popular notions of Buddhist doctrine - to win is also to lose. |