After his daughter is kidnapped, a mute father (Xie Miao) and a journalist (Joe Taslim) go on the warpath to take down a child-trafficking ring.
As the blood-soaked final showdown of The Furious unfolds, you will start to notice that across its near two-hour runtime there are barely five minutes of this film where someone isn’t being punched, kicked, or having their face slammed through a table. It’s clearly where action choreographer-turned-director Kenji Tanigaki is most comfortable, and considering the kidnapped-daughter plot here boils down to a repackaged version of_Taken_, it’s a good thing. Thankfully, Tanigaki trusts his instincts, getting his characters to shut up and play the hits, throws, and bone-breaking blows, resulting in a relentlessly fun slice of Hong Kong martial-arts mayhem.
There’s real creativity in how the action escalates. It begins with mute father Wang Wei (Xie Miao) attempting to rescue his kidnapped daughter in a surprisingly blood-light slice of Jackie Chan-inspired (notably First Strike) kung fu, which sees the performers creatively throwing themselves in, around, and through a truck. From there, the film continually ups the ante, eventually arriving at a wall-painting police-station brawl that mixes wushu, judo and more to unleash absolute carnage that wouldn’t feel out of place in the Raid films. It’s made more immersive by sound design that ensures you feel every damn crunch, heightened further by Tanigaki’s camera, which weaves through every fight with the kind of energy that feels like it’s just downed a Red Bull. Throw in the electronic score, and this is pretty jaw-dropping (or snapping) stuff.
The Furious clearly isn’t afraid to go over the top. In true Hong Kong tradition, its emotions are running just as high as the number of bodies hitting the floor.
Elsewhere, the action embraces complete absurdity. Want to see a child riding down a hallway on the back of a motorbike while whacking henchmen? This is the movie for you. It’s all played with a not-so-subtle wink —the kind of bananas action to which you sense somehow, somewhere John Woo is raising a glass.
The Furious clearly isn’t afraid to go over the top. In true Hong Kong tradition, its emotions are running just as high as the number of bodies hitting the floor. The film’s attempts at emotional moments with journalist Navin (Joe Taslim), who joins Wang Wei on the mission, don’t always land quite as well as the punches, but its commitment to emulating Hong Kong classics is admirable. The same can be said for its child-centred drama, which slows the plot slightly as it enters its final act. Thankfully, the film quickly remembers what everyone is really here for.
The showstopper comes in the form of a mid-movie fight, featuring Everything Everywhere All At Once’s Brian Le. The martial artist swaps butt plugs for a sledgehammer, an absolutely dominating screen presence as he towers over Xie and Taslim. The trio blast their way through a warehouse, trading one inventive blow after another as the hammer swings between them, changes hands, and even smashes through human ice sculptures (with actual humans inside — as disgusting as that sounds!) to create an even bloodier mess. For a brief moment, you might find yourself thinking that all this insanity is exactly what cinema was made for.
The Furious wears all its influences proudly on its sleeve, but comparisons aside, Kenji Tanigaki has still created a bone-crunching beast that feels distinctly his own. More of this mayhem, please.
Tipping its hat to countless Hong Kong classics, this is a relentlessly entertaining martial-arts epic that knows exactly what its audience wants, landing enough blows to leave you suitably floored.
