Infernal Affairs needs no introduction as the commercial and critical success that revitalized the Hong Kong film industry with a creative jolt from its brilliant script, stirring character development and slick visuals to thrill the viewer to the very end. Taking a cue from the countless tales of undercover mole work in classic Hong Kong heroic bloodshed cinema, the film adds a little twist by setting up parallel plots that pit two moles against each other.
Ming (Andy Lau) is a mole from the triads who infiltrated the police years ago and rose through the ranks to report intel to his boss, Sam (Eric Tsang), while Yan, (Tony Leung) is a gritty and tortured undercover cop who has advanced in Sam’s gang to hold a trustworthy position after years on the job.
Both walk the thin line of good and evil and struggle internally with their identities, loyalties and duties. The plotting is a tight, smart dual cat-and-mouse game as the two moles attempt to flush the other one out and it soon becomes more a battle of wits than a battle of guns. The chase takes us from the depths of Hong Kong’s shady neon alleyways to its glorious, daytime rooftops in one tense situation after another.
The success of this crime-thriller is in part due to the fast pacing and unpredictable plotting of co-directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak, who succeed in the rare feat of realizing a fully gripping and surprising story with a confident, satisfying ending. In a day where audiences can often figure out a plot’s direction or a character’s sudden change, Infernal Affairs is a film that keeps us guessing.
But all the same, Andy Lau and Tony Leung Chiu-wai turn out two fantastic, realistic performances, Lau giving his criminal Ming a calm charm, while Leung plays Yan with every bit of exhaustion, anxiety and doubt to convey his desolate, alienated life. Anthony Wong and Eric Tsang play their leadership roles with the same convincing ardour and oddly mirror the moles under them. Wong carries himself with a similar controlled and collected manner as Ming, while Tsang acts with the frantic intensity that Leung’s Yan is struggling to suppress.
There’s no one person responsible for the film, and it is rather the top-notch integration of all the parts, not to mention the beautiful visuals and moody score. Sure, The Departed won some Oscars and Scorcese managed to successfully remake an Asian film, but this film will always have a soft spot in my heart as the original. This version runs much faster (Scorcese packs in almost 50 more minutes) and it has a different, dark and uncompromising ending that has always worked for me more than the remake’s.
Reviewed by Tarun
