Zhou
Zenong is in trouble. The mainland cops are after him and there is nothing too
ruthless or too unscrupulous they won’t do to capture (or better yet kill) the small-time
gangster. Remember, they are the ones who taught police brutality to their Hong
Kong colleagues. Nevertheless, Zhou realizes it is entirely his own fault,
because he very definitely killed a cop in Diao Yinan’s ultra-noir Wild
Goose Lake, which opens this Friday in New York.
Zhou
is the kind of world-weary hoodlum who prefers to keep things low key.
Unfortunately, the local Jiang Hu (underworld) boss forces Zhou’s motorcycle-stealing
ring to compete for their choice turf against a group of young punky upstarts.
Unfortunately, the larceny “Olympics” turn violent to such an extent, Zhou
kills a cop by mistake.
At
this point, the die is cast. Zhou knows only too well no fugitive can elude
capture in the People’s Republic for long. At least he will try to engineer a more
favorable endgame. His original idea is to have his semi-estranged wife Yang Shujun
turn him in so she can claim the reward money. Sadly, that scheme becomes
untenable due to the police surveillance and harassment focused on Yang.
Liu
Aiai is plan B. She is a so-called “bathing beauty” who works for Zhou’s pimp
friend Hua Hua around the rather hedonistic Wild Goose Lake. Liu is supposed to
drop a dime on Zhou and then turn the reward money over to Yang after taking
her cut. Of course, Zhou is not sure he can trust Liu or Hua Hua, or any of his
old associates—with good reason. Plus, the rival gang is still out to get him.
It all contributes to the sort of long night of the soul Diao specializes in.
Wild
Goose is
not as twisty or suspenseful as Diao’s contemporary classic, Black Coal Thin Ice, but it is still superior film noir. While his plot is more
straightforward and almost pre-determined right from the start (indeed, that is
sort of the whole point), he and cinematographer Dong Jingsun craft a look and
mood worthy of vintage Edward Hopper paintings and Ida Lupino films.
Diao
also reunites with the co-leads of Black Coal, but Liao Fan takes a more
secondary role as the relentless, Javert-like Captain Liu, but he is quite
convincing as the cynical, maybe even soulless copper. Gwei Lun Mei is
absolutely arresting and heartbreaking as Liu Aiai, the exploited “bathing
beauty.” Frankly, it is sometimes difficult to watch what her character must so
realistically endure, but that is why it is such a brave performance.
It
is also quite intriguing to see her and Hu Ge’s Zhou circle round each other in
a nearly two-hour dance of trust and suspicion. As the fugitive, Hu broods and
boils over explosively. Every second he is on screen, he exudes both danger and
existential fatalism. Arguably, he and Gwei match up even better than she and
Liao did in Coal. As is usually the case with noirs, Wild Goose has
a number of colorful villains, but Qi Dao is particularly notable for the bad
vibes he radiates as shiftily behaving Hua Hua.
Throughout
Wild Goose, there are clear, unmistakable parallels between the
gang-like behavior of both the cops and the Jiang Hu. If you cross either, you
will find yourself in a world of hurt. That is true even for a seriously bad
cat like Zhou. Highly recommended for fans of film noir and Gwei, Wild Goose
Lake opens this Friday (3/6) in New York, at Film Forum.
