The
roads are dusty, the sun is hot, and murder is all part of business. It is
contemporary Western China, not the Old West, but effective law enforcement is
still pretty scarce in these parts. If a stubborn mechanic’s name is ever going
to be cleared, he will have to do it himself in Cao Baoping’s nifty noir
thriller Cock and Bull (trailer here), which opens this
Friday in New York.
Song
Laoer was known to have a short temper and some bad history with “Cat,” so he
is pretty much the only one the cops bother to interview. However, having zero
evidence they duly release him from holding. He might be at liberty, but he is definitely
under a cloud. Fearing his besmirched reputation will cause trouble for his
pre-teen son, Song commences his own investigation. In a village near the remote
crime scene, the mechanic finds Cat’s missing motorbike in Wang Youquan’s
possession, but the fleet of foot ne’er do well escapes.
That
is basically good enough for the cops, but not for Song. He will keep pursuing
the punk, starting at the flat of his long-suffering girlfriend, Yang Shuhua.
However, unbeknownst to them both, there is third player out there, but we will
not get a good look at Dong Xiaofeng until the film starts rewinding and
pulling back to give us additional Tarantino-esque perspectives.
Cock and Bull is one of several
ripping good Chinese noirs set in the provinces (inevitably inspiring Coen
Brothers comparisons) and the first to get the American distribution it
deserves (that means A Coffin in the Mountain and North by Northeast are
probably still available). It also has the benefit of a big star in Liu Ye as
the beleaguered but admirably proactive Song. He hits a wonderfully understated
note of comic frustration, channeling Harrison Ford, by way of a hound dog. Duan
Bowen is considerably fierier as Wang, but he is still firmly grounded within
Cao’s hardscrabble environment. He also forges some compelling hot-and-cold
romantic chemistry with Wang Ziwen’s Yang.
It
would probably be a spoilery sin to reveal to much about Dong, but it is
hopefully safe to say Zhang Yi demonstrates he is equally adept at physical
comedy and outright carnage in the role. Tan Zhuo is also sweetly poignant as
his unappreciated hostess girlfriend Ping Jie.
Playing
with point-of-view is sort of Cao’s thing, but as in Equation of Love and Death, he manages to withhold information in
ways viewers will not resent. He maintains a brisk pace and a bracing attitude
towards just about all authority figures. It pretty much has it all except
maybe romance and sentimentality.
