Diao Yinan’s Wild Goose Lake

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.

Tribeca ’14: Black Coal, Thin Ice

China’s working poor are regularly ignored and exploited, but from their ranks will emerge an unlikely black widow that even James Cain would appreciate. Wu Zhizhen toils thanklessly in a provincial dry cleaner, but the last three men to be romantically linked to her met with early demises. Her suspicious misfortune attracts the attention of a disgraced ex-cop in Diao Yinan’s Black Coal, Thin Ice (clip here), which screens during the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival.

In 1999, hard boozing Det. Zhang Zili is called to investigate the discovery of multiple body parts at the local coal processing plant. Learning other pieces have turned up at other facilities, Zhang connects the dots to the Liu brothers, two drivers with a sketchy past. However, his routine inquiry goes spectacularly bad. The case is presumed solved, but that will not save his career.

Five years later, an old colleague comes to Zhang for an off the books consultation. The widow of the dismembered coal corpse has just lost her third significant other to foul play. The two more recent bodies were both found wearing ice skates, suggesting an obvious pattern. Seeking some sort of personal satisfaction, Zhang starts following Wu, but she is neither careless nor easily intimidated. However, as she gets used to his presence, she starts to entertain his overtures.

Like a Taiwanese Bette Davis, Gwei Lun Mei is a deceptively innocent looking femme fatale, but still a powerfully seductive screen presence. Well suited for Wu, she keeps audience sympathies sharply divided and expectations off-balance throughout Coal. She is also probably the biggest international movie star gracing Tribeca screens this year.

Conversely, Liao Fan revels in Zhang’s anti-heroics and degenerate binging. In fact, his flaws run so deep he had to be cashiered out of the police force to satisfy the Chinese censorship board. Intriguingly off-kilter in a hardnosed kind of way, Liao deservedly won the Silver Bear at Berlin for his work.

In a way, Coal bridges the gap between Chinese “indie films” and commercial releases to a surprising extent. Everything that goes down in Diao’s narrative is ultimately attributable to systemic injustice and inequity. Wu may very well be involved in something nefarious, but it is impossible to judge her harshly. Yet, this pointed social commentary proved to be a monster hit at the Chinese box office.

Coal could be considered a Chinese noir in the tradition of Fargo. The weather is cold, the landscape is grim, and people often behave in a dark and unpredictable manner. It is all definitely good stuff. Highly recommended, Black Coal, Thin Ice is a head-and-shoulders stand-out at the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival, where it screens again tomorrow (4/22), Thursday (4/24), and Saturday (4/26).