In 2002, the producing-writing-directing team Andrew Lau Wai-Keung and Alan Mak released Infernal Affairs, a distinctive crime thriller that exploded across Hong Kong cinemas and had a worldwide impact. The film garnered multiple awards including Best Film at the 22nd Hong Kong Film Awards and Film of Merit at the 9th Hong Kong Film Critics Society Awards. The film’s exploration of identities on different sides of the law – ‘I want to be a good guy!’ ‘Sorry, I’m a cop’ – led to a prequel and sequel, both released in 2003, as well as the Hollywood remake The Departed, which won Best Picture and Directing at the 79th Academy Awards. Now the Infernal Affairs Trilogy comes to the Criterion Collection in a set that includes all three films and a host of extras.
The first Infernal Affairs is a brisk affair, with an array of stylistic choices including silhouette sunset shots, slow motion, flash cuts, crossfades and fade-outs. The tale of two men with effectively the identities of each other, trying to outdo each other but also wrestling with themselves, is a powerful story with great potential. Andy Lau plays Inspector Lau Kin Ming, a fast-rising officer in the Hong Kong Police Force. Unbeknownst to his colleagues and superiors, Lau is a mole for crime boss Hon Sam (Eric Tsang), feeding Sam intelligence on police operations. One of Sam’s lieutenants is Chen Wing Yan (Tony Leung), who was a cadet at the same time as Lau but was expelled. Except Yan was actually recruited by Police Superintendent Wong Chi Shing (Anthony Wong) to go undercover in the Triad crime world, feeding intelligence on criminal operations back to Wong. Confused yet? You’re not the only one, as Lau and Yan find their loyalties not to mention their identities being questioned as the power play between Sam and Wong, who have their own complicated history, twists, turns and weaves as all play towards a climax.
Conceptually, Infernal Affairs offers a great deal. However, the concepts are frequently undermined by distracting style and what feels like a lack of world-building, despite the hints at the vast criminal enterprises taking place in Hong Kong. The narrative is disjointed and often impressionistic, with clunky flashbacks, an unclear timeline and an inconsistent style. There are some nice stylistic flourishes such as the use of cell phones to provide visual connections through intercutting, the trope of technology interweaving with identity underlined by the recurring motif of stereo equipment. There are some evocative images of the city, especially underground parking garages as well as open spaces with highly
reflective surroundings. At the same time, the frequent crossing of the 180-degree line highlights the different sides on which characters find themselves. While all of this could be indicative of the film’s evocation of hell and the doomed destinies of the protagonists, the different aspects fail to gel and make the film rather a mess.
While the performances do fit the characters, Leung’s Yan is too jovial to feel pained and Lau’s Lau too constrained to be engaging. Tsang’s Sam is not scary and rather comical, although Wong’s Wong does convey a sense of righteousness compromised by reality. Yet the different relationships are barely motivated and the attempts at tragic moments feel trite and hollow. Any sense of a moral quandary is undone by hollow stylistics and reiterations of being ‘good’, leading to a film that ultimately squanders its potential. Infernal Affairs II takes place between the expulsion of Yan from the police academy and the
principal plot of the first film. It, therefore, follows Yan’s infiltration into the world of the Triads as well as Lau’s rise through the HKPF. The film also expands the world of Infernal Affairs, especially in terms of the relationship between Sam and Wong which receives the depth it lacked in the first film. At times, it is reminiscent of The Godfather in terms of family dynamics and the use of music, as well as themes of hope, regret, loyalty and identity. Furthermore, the film has a distinct political backdrop with the handover of Hong Kong from Britain to China, and this context adds weight to the proceedings, informing the characters with both optimism and dread as crime, police and indeed politics interweave.
Despite the complex narrative, the second film is slickly assembled with echoes of the first film, motivated slow motion, a repeated motif of a lecture theatre space in the police station that begins empty but steadily fills with files, boxes and other paraphernalia of police work. This increase of material speaks to the film as a whole, with events changing around the characters, including the entire country, and yet knowing what is to come gives a sense of inertia within time. Keeping the original actors to play Sam and Wong provides continuity, while the younger versions of Yan (Shawn Yue) and Lau (Edison Chen) provide change. These younger performers add a strong sense of urgency to the film, both characters seeking to get ahead while also being aware of the cost of doing so. Lau is more compassionate and Yan more erratic, and their presence serves to deepen the characters as well as the world of the film.
There is also a development in the filmmaking, with increased confidence and indeed competence in the stylistics this time around, perhaps because of the success of the first film. The filmmaking is measured and fluid, with more effective stylistic flourishes. Flash cuts on murders underscore the shocking nature of violence, such as a sudden death with an instant cutaway, while a long take after an explosion gives a sense of hellishness and inescapability. This inevitability is furthered by the paths of Yan and Lau continually crossing, lending a tragic irony to the proceedings as the viewer knows what is to come.
Unsubtly, Infernal Affairs III opens with the descent of an elevator with images of carved stone faces either side of the downward movement. Movement in various directions characterises this third instalment, which works as both a sequel and prequel, similar to The Godfather: Part II. We see the events leading up to those in the first film, further fleshing out the characters and world, as well as the aftermath of the first film’s narrative as Lau continues his roles and tries to manage his dual/duelling identities. Familiar faces such as Sam, Wong and Yan return, as do new faces including Superintendent Yeung Kam Wing (Leon Lai) and Inspector Shen Chen (Chen Dao Ming). Further changes include the locations:
the lecture theatre from the second film is now storage, and the centre of police action is sleek high-tech offices. An increased interest in surveillance, both from the characters and the film itself, turns this police station into a panopticon where everyone is observed and some manipulate this observation.
The climax is perhaps a bit too crazy to be persuasive, but the film serves as a fitting conclusion to this trilogy of fate, destiny, inevitability and tragedy.
The treatment of this paranoia and caution is tense and measured, with the audience’s sympathies often directed towards Lau despite his misdeeds. The interweaving of criminal syndicates from Hong Kong and the Chinese mainland echoes the intercutting of past and present storylines, with the final scene of this film playing directly into the first scene of the original Infernal Affairs. As the film progresses, the cutting between past and present becomes more fluid and the timelines merge, contrasting with captions that explicitly state when the events on screen are taking place. With so many shades and interconnections, presences and absences that haunt and prey, it is perhaps understandable that Lau starts to lose his grip on reality. The climax is perhaps a bit too crazy to be persuasive, but the film serves as a fitting conclusion to this trilogy of fate, destiny, inevitability and tragedy.
While it should be pleasing to get classic films like this in the new Blu-ray format, the 4K digital restoration here is unfortunately rather grainy. Rather than looking lush and rich, much of the film looks cheap and a bit weird, which is a shame when the production design and cinematography are so detailed. The films look decent, but nothing more.
The various extras of this box set include audio commentaries for the first two films featuring co-directors Andrew Lau Wai-Keung and Alan Mak, as well as screenwriter Felix Chong Man-Keung. There is also an alternate ending for the first film, a new interview with Lau and Mak as well as archival interviews with Lau, Mak, Chong, and actors Andy Lau Tak-wah, Tony Leung Chiu-wai, Anthony Wong Chau-sang, Kelly Chen Wai-lam, Edison Chen Koon-hei, Eric Tsang Chi-wai, and Chapman To Man-chak. Some making-of programs, behind-the-scenes footage, deleted scenes, and outtakes, as well as trailers and an essay by
film critic Justin Chang rounds off the collection.
The director’s interview in The Making of Infernal Affairs on Disc 1 reveals that Mak grew up in a police family while Lau was in triad territory. Their discussion about the films they grew up with, and their respective apprenticeships on film sets provides interesting background on the concepts and context that fed into the film, as well as the collaboration. Of particular interest to film historians is that Infernal Affairs came after the golden age of Hong Kong cinema, and this decline of the industry was instrumental in hiring the prominent actors Leung and Lau. Many of the production anecdotes are amusing and insightful, such as happy accidents prompted by locations, the directors’ belief in simple and even natural lighting as well as the significant themes of infernality and Buddhism. Further background comes from the 2007 documentary Hong Kong Film Noir, which details the time it took to sell the film, the challenges of a financial recession, and the reflection of Hong Kong’s identity crisis in the film. The first film’s alternative ending for release in the People’s Republic of China is striking in terms of the minimal changes, aside from a rather overt Deus Ex Machina.
Less interesting is Infernal Affairs II: Confidential File – Behind the Scenes on Disc 2, which is largely perfunctory aside from an amusing anecdote about whacking steaks during a fight scene to obtain the desired sound effect. A Making Of featurette filmed at the time of the film’s production allows the actors to give insights into their characters and their process as well as how they work together. That said, the discussions around the characters seem a little redundant when we have the film itself. Disc 3’s Making Of gets a bit tiresome with the number of people referring to ‘good guy’ but this might be a matter of translation. Reflections on the franchise as a whole are somewhat engaging but also feel reiterative. More interesting is a 2004 Interview by Fred Ambroisine with Lau and Mak, who compare their process to that of the Coens and emphasise the importance of the Chinese market for Infernal Affairs III. There is some recycling of footage, but the descriptions of the working processes, such as Mak being more focused on the script and Lau on the visual (according to actor Kelly Chen), add further insight into the production.
The commentaries are likely to be the most useful features for viewers interested in these films as well as filmmaking in general. References to Akira Kurosawa, flipping the expected casting, the significance of female characters as well as the symbolism all help to enrich the experience of watching the films, as well as the commercial imperatives for making sequels. One particular gem is the parallel between the interweaving of cops and gangsters and that between paparazzi and celebrities, with each side needing the other despite the mutual antagonism. It seems that interweaving is the most consistent and lasting impression of this significant if flawed film trilogy, interweaving in terms of the films’ narratives and themes, as well as their commercial production and the historical and political context of their time.
THE INFERNAL AFFAIRS TRILOGY IS OUT NOW ON CRITERION COLLECTION BLU-RAY
