Go for Broke 2 (重生2, Marc Ma, 2026)

When her son is taken by child traffickers, a former assassin vows revenge in Marc Ma’s action drama, Go For Broke 2 (重生, chóngshēng 2). A thematic sequel to the earlier film, Go For Broke 2 once again deals with a delicate issue in a way that seems both ill-advised and at times unethical as it zooms in on a world of exploitation in which children are merely tools to broker influence between powerful men.

Or at least, as is made clear in its final sequence, the film draws influence from the Epstein scandal as the shady gangster Zuo Man (Sammo Hung Kam-bo) arranges parties on “Carnival Island” where important men can mix with small children. Xi La’s (Isabella Leong Lok-yau) son is abducted while on a school trip with other children from around the world and taken to a boat where he is physically and sexually abused. Xi La manages to track him down when he is the victim of a traffic accident, but is eventually unable to save him. After teaming up with the brother of a girl killed at the same time, Su Cheng (Wen Junhui), she vows revenge and to make everyone who harmed her son suffer.

Ironically, Xi La seems to have been an exploited child herself raised to become an assassin without knowing true family until making a life with Paka. Su Cheng is similarly an orphan who blames himself for his sister’s abduction. Zuo Man, by contrast, is running a family business with both his sons involved in trafficking children, one having begun abusing children himself despite Zuo Man’s disapproval. The action appears to take place in a fictionalised version of America, though aside from all the signs being in English with many of them referencing medical insurance, it doesn’t really look like it architecturally or environmentally.

Nevertheless, turning back to her old gang, Xi La is forced to step into a world of conspiracy as Zuo Man invites what seem to be various prominent American politicians and businessmen to the “island”. The children are dressed in Edwardian-style white outfits and distastefully asked to play in an all while room with clouds floating above that seems to be designed as some kind of heaven. Later, it turns out, that the children are also being experimented on and tortured to produce some kind of serum that can be used for its anti-ageing properties by a rich and powerful class obsessed with youth and immortally. It has to be said that the ethics of placing child actors into some of these scenes, such as one of a young boy undergoing some kind of electroshock treatment, may be ethically questionable, as is the film’s prominent use of AI.

While doing their best to save the other children, Xi La and Su Cheng discover that powerful people seem to be protecting Carnival Island and that alerting the authorities to its presence probably wouldn’t help. When confronted, Zuo Man crassly insists that all the kids were no hopers from the slums who would just have become “lowlifes” anyway, so all he’s doing is “recycling” them so they can be consumed to nourish the elite. As such, the film seems to be kicking back and the ingrained elitism of an apparently shadow world, but doesn’t do too much more with it than using it as evidence of the villains’ evilness while they would even sacrifice their own children to keep their business interests going.

Once again the film is really built around its action sequences but the use of CGI blood spatter again seems a little flippant given the seriousness of the child tracking issue. Similarly, Xi La’s quest to wipe out the gangsters seemingly borrows from exploitation cinema, but the film continues to take itself quite seriously rather than simply allowing Xi La to satisfy her desire to avenge Paka. Anchored by a powerful performance from Isabella Leong Lok-Sze which pretty much carries the film, it addresses themes such as motherhood and family along with the shadowy conspiracy which seems to hang over the “ordinary” world, but can never overcome a sense of tasteless and flippancy in the way that it approaches them, a sentiment borne out by the final AI generated sequence linking the action with real-world events.


Trailer (Simplified Chinese / English subtitles)

Go For Broke (重生, Marc Ma, 2024)

Once again set in a fictional South East Asian nation, Marc Ma’s action drama Go For Broke (重生, chóngshēng) is a rather unsubtle entry into the anti-drugs propaganda genre in which a former soldier goes undercover to undermine a drug lord’s empire after his family is destroyed by gangsters and narcotics. As such, it may appear insensitive in including such lines as “once addicted you can never quit,” and “addicts not only harm themselves but drag their families into hell,” which the demonise the user even if it makes clear that “drug cartels will stop at nothing to lure people into addiction for profit”.

A case in point, Zhang Yao’s (Nick Cheung Ka-Fai) wife is tricked into consuming illegal drugs by Thai-speaking gangsters without her knowledge or consent, though their end goal seems only to be getting her addicted rather than pressing her into other forms of exploitation to make money for them in return for the drugs. In any case, once she starts using drugs, Zhang Yao’s wife becomes incapable of caring for their daughter who wanders off and is hit by a car. Zhang Yao perhaps feels some responsibility for this as, after retiring from the army, he took a job on a boat to earn money that was supposed to fund their future, leaving his family undefended. Though he forgives his wife, she cannot forgive herself and sees no way out of her addiction so takes her own life.

Two years later, Zhang Yao is working with a police officer, An Du (Ethan Juan), who claims to oppose the rampant police corruption fostered by the police chief, his uncle An Pei (Jack Kao). After killing off the real one in prison, Zhang Yao goes undercover as the long-lost son of a local businessman/drug lord Mu Kun (Vithaya Pansringarm) who is suffering from an illness sparking a succession crisis within the gang as right-hand man Herta clearly expected he’d become the new boss on Kun’s death. After joining the gang, Zhang Yao sets about disrupting the relationship between Kun and police chief Pei, a drug user himself, which underpins the local drugs trade.

The “fictional South East Asian nation” setting allows the film to explore themes of police corruption which wouldn’t pass censorship if it were set on the Mainland, but corruption does seems to be otherwise endemic with Pei claiming that men are not good or bad but strong or weak. As long as you’re strong enough, you can oppress those below you, he tells Du before telling him to call his mistress so that he can enjoy oppressing her. Du appears to have feelings for Nanqian (Sandrine Pinna) who is trapped in her relationship with Pei because her policeman father’s life was also ruined by drugs. Like Zhang Yao’s wife she sees no way out of her situation while Pei physically and mentally abuses her.

It becomes clear that each of these people’s lives have been negatively affected by a family member’s drug use for which they want revenge against the dealers. In the absence of justice, they’ve had to take things into their own hands. As twist piles on twist, Ma implies that that a vast network is working in the shadows to oppose the drugs trade and the inherent corruption in their society. Though the society itself is rotten to its core, there is a purification that seems to take place as the vigilantes bring light back to otherwise dark place, but at the same time, all the blame for the rise in drug use is placed on dealers forcibly addicting people while ignoring the underlying social circumstances which may have led people in despair to turn to drugs and at the same time demonising those who take them for having dragged everyone else into their “hell”. The use of blood splatter also lends a degree of cartoonishness to the action sequences as Ma seems to draw from exploitation cinema in the film’s general outlandishness while otherwise slightly at odds with the persistent grimness of the drug-ridden society. It does, however, have a degree of poignancy in its melancholy conclusion that seems to imply that salvation may be possible after all.


Trailer (Simplified Chinese / English subtitles)

Monk Comes Down the Mountain (道士下山, Chen Kaige, 2015)

A wandering monk is forced to consider a series of dualities presented by his traditional upbringing and burgeoning modernity in Chen Kaige’s ‘30s wuxia Monk Comes Down the Mountain (道士下山, dàoshì xiàshān), inspired by the work of novelist Xu Haofeng. Essentially a picaresque, Chen sets orphan He Anxia (Wang Baoqiang) adrift in the secular world where he learns to see good and bad and perhaps the murky overlap between the two while simultaneously telling a rather subversive tale of frustrated same sex love and corrupt authorities. 

When the temple at which he was abandoned as a baby falls into financial difficulty, He Anxia enters a kung fu fighting competition he believes will put him first in line for food only in cryptic monk fashion the “prize” turns out to be exile as the winner is obviously the most capable of looking after themselves alone in the world. He Anxia is however something of an innocent and despite the monk’s warning to stay true to himself soon falls into difficultly yet ends up discovering a new father figure in monk turned pharmacist Tsui while trying to steal his fish. For all of Tsui’s goodness, however, there is discord in his house as his pretty young wife Yuzhen (Lin Chi-ling) prefers his dandyish brother, Daorong (Vanness Wu), who has abandoned the filial piety of the past to chase modern consumerist pleasures in selling the shop he inherited for a fancy ring. When the situation escalates, Anxia finds himself taking drastic action only to wonder if he did the right thing. 

Head of a local temple Rusong (Wang Xueqi) encourages him to think beyond dualities, wondering if he did the right thing for the wrong reasons or the wrong for right. This temple is famous for helping women have male children through praying to goddess of mercy Guan Yin, yet under Rusong’s predecessor they adopted a much less spiritual solution to the problem in simply providing a place where other men could father their sons. Rusong again asks him if the men who took part were sinners or saints while laying bare the paradoxes of the monastic life in the contemporary society. A petitioner goes so far as to ask Anxia if he might be her saviour, pointing out that if she cannot provide a male heir even though the problem may lie with her husband she may be cast out of her family, thereby disgraced not to mention financially ruined. Having lived all his life in the temple surrounded by men, gender inequality is not something Anxia had been very aware of. He tells her that though he had no family he was able to find one only to lose it, little understanding why she might not be able to do the same. 

On the other hand, he appears to show surprising perspicacity in the touching moments in which he must say goodbye to his second father figure, reclusive kung fu master Xiyu (Aaron Kwok), in realising the depth of his feelings for army buddy Boss Zha (Chang Chen) who then becomes his final master. Ironically, the obviously homoerotic relationship between Xiyu and Boss Zha was perhaps less controversial in 2015 than it might be in the present day but its inclusion is nevertheless surprising if also poignant as Xiyu tells Boss Zha that he should resume his stage career, marry and have children, while he will live a quiet and lonely life perfecting his kung fu though he will always keep him in his heart. Fiercely loyal to his mentors, Anxia accepts this relationship totally and appears to fully understand its import to Boss Zha to whom he subsequently transfers his allegiance as they band together to face off against big bad Peng. 

Playing into the good fathers and bad motif, Peng’s problem is his sense of paternal rejection in being passed over by his biological father in favour of Xiyu whose skills are stronger. After having ousted his rival, Peng fears the same thing will happen to his own son who is not only lacking in aptitude for martial arts but also appears to have a drug problem. To win they resort to cheating in picking up a pistol signalling both their own lack of jianghu honour and the nature of the changing times in which the very nature of kung fu has perhaps become obsolete. Meanwhile, Anxin and Zha are targeted by the police commissioner, Chao, who happens to be a former triad and also points his gun at them if less successfully while in cahoots with the amoral Peng and son.

Only through each of these subsequent encounters does Anxia begin to realise why he was cast down from mountain, understanding that he had to witness the good and bad of the secular world in order to understand his Buddhist teachings and finally find his place. With sumptuous production values perfectly recreating the 1930s setting, Chen’s quietly subversive 20th century wuxia takes aim at the ills of the contemporary society in its tales of corrupt authorities and amoral greed, but eventually finds solace in simple human goodness and genuine relationships as Anxin continues on his long strange journey to find his way home. 


International trailer (English subtitles)

Ip Man 4: The Finale (葉問4:完結篇, Wilson Yip, 2019)

Ip Man 4 poster 1Superhero movies may be undergoing something of a complex reevaluation of late, but you can’t deny that they often come in unexpected forms. Ip Man, the man who made Bruce Lee, has himself become a mythical figure, a kind of kung fu saint defending ordinary Chinese people from oppressors and bullies. All heroes, however, must eventually meet their end. Ip Man 4: The Finale (葉問4:完結篇) brings the Donnie Yen starring series to a bombastic close with Ip seemingly facing off against the rising populism of the present day by kicking back against racist aggression in the San Francisco of 1964.

Why would Ip be in San Francisco, you ask? Because Bruce Lee (Danny Chan Kwok-kwan) invited him. Rewinding a few minutes, we discover that Ip has recently been diagnosed with throat cancer which is why he politely declines Bruce’s offer to pay for him to fly to the US to see him in a karate tournament. Personal matters, however, change his mind. His wife now passed away, Ip is struggling to connect with his increasingly rebellious son Jin (Jim Liu) who has been expelled from school for fighting. All Jin wants is to study kung fu like his dad, but Ip doesn’t approve. The headmaster advises him that unruly kids might do better abroad and so Ip decides to visit Bruce and check out schools in the US in the process, but he quickly runs into trouble on learning that the elite private institutions of the area require a recommendation from the Chinese Benevolent Association. The CBA are of the opinion that Chinese martial arts are for the Chinese people and are very angry about Bruce Lee’s determination to teach them far and wide. They were hoping Ip could talk some sense into his former pupil, but Ip is firmly on Bruce’s side. He too believes that martial arts should be a bridge between peoples, not a secret weapon preserving its mystique to intimidate.

This central divide becomes the film’s axis with head of the CBA Wan (Wu Yue) gently reminding Ip that he does not live in the city and is ill qualified to comment on local politics while advocating a gentle path of quiet appeasement. Wan clashes with his feisty daughter, Yonah (Vanda Margraf), who wants to be a cheerleader but faces constant micro aggressions from the openly racist rich kids at the same elite high school Ip wants to send Jin to. Yonah disagrees with her father’s turn the other cheek philosophy and longs to use the martial arts she didn’t particularly enjoy learning for their real purpose, later bonding with Ip after he steps in to frighten a group of posh thugs who attacked her on instruction from her rival on the cheerleading team.

The anti-racism theme slowly dovetails with the mirrored threads of failing fatherhood as Ip realises that he has made all the same mistakes as Wan. Yonah is impressed by Ip’s aura of quiet authority and spiritual power, instantly striking up a kind of paternal relationship with him, but offers cutting critique in casually echoing Jin’s words in complaining that her father has never supported her. Facing his mortality, Ip wanted to ensure his son’s independence as quickly as possible, but refused him the independence of deciding his own future. Eventually he realises that the only way to atone for his failure as a father is to pass his knowledge on while he still can, but a key part of that is that a martial artist must stand up to injustice wherever they see it, which is pretty much everywhere in San Fransisco in 1964.

Somewhat incomprehensibly, the great evil this time around is a group of massively racist karate enthusiasts who like to shout racial slurs at the practitioners of Chinese kung fu. Granted massive racists are not known for their critical thinking abilities, but no one seems to have told them that karate was not born in America which makes their animosity towards kung fu all the stranger. Yet, just as Ip and Bruce had suggested, martial arts can indeed be a bridge as Bruce discovers in besting a promising challenger in an alleyway and getting a big thumbs up in return.

Not everyone is as easily won over, however. Ip’s final battle against a crazed marine instructor (Scott Adkins) plays out as if he really has defeated racism in America by punching out a meat headed bigot with fatherly righteousness which is, however you look at it, a little on the flippant side. It also, of course, plays into the persistent “just stay in China” message of contemporary Chinese cinema, but nevertheless presents a slightly subversive front in clumsily uniting the oppressed population of the city under Ip’s revolutionary banner in opposition to entrenched racism, classism, corruption, and nepotism. Awkwardly delivered perhaps, but you can’t argue with the broadly positive plea for cultural exchange and international co-operation as the best weapons against injustice.


Currently on limited release in UK/US cinemas courtesy of Well Go USA.

International trailer (English subtitles)