FURIE: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned

When Gene Siskel asked John Ford what makes a good movie, he succinctly replied that it’s just “Three good scenes and no bad scenes”, a broad measure of quality that Siskel that went onto apply to the forgotten Arnold Schwarzenegger misfire Eraser. By this statement, Le-Van Kiet’s Furie can be classified as a good movie, an efficient martial arts picture that hails from Vietnam and allows the rare opportunity for a female to be the ass-kicking hero for once.

As someone who is paying close to attention to this new wave of modern martial arts movies, spurned by the success of Gareth Evan’s game-changing The Raid and carried on by his collaborator Timo Tjahjanto, we’ve seen a new series of films which carry on the tradition of old school Bruce Lee/Jackie Chan/Jet Li adventures, having one gifted fighter face off against hordes of faceless henchmen, for the sake of honor, revenge or just doing the right thing.

Furie is another entry into this succession, hitting most of the right beats, only knee-capped (unlike its central character) by a frustrating pace that gives too much slack to such a tight situation; in layman’s terms, too much talk, not enough tussle.

Abducted in Plain Sight

In the heart of an isolated Vietnamese countryside, ex-bouncer turned debt collector Hai Phuong (Veronica Ngo) lives a largely uneventful existence, oscillating between threatening her local villagers for their unpaid debts and making sure that her young daughter is studying, a stress that tenses her already strained relationship with her sole semblance of family. Chaos comes at a convenient time though, as the night after a major fight confrontation between the two, gangsters show up and kidnap Phuong’s daughter in broad daylight.

This results in the film’s first big set piece (one which does take too long to get to), a city-splitting motorcycle chase that has Phuong driving through cafes and creeks, that despite her best efforts, fails to recover her daughter. Like every standard vigilante picture, the police prove to be unhelpful, forcing Phuong to take the law into her own hands, plunging herself face first into the nightmarish world of underground child trafficking. It’s a simple setup, basically a stable clothesline to hang a series of uncompromisingly violent hand-to-hand (or sometimes hand-to-hatchet) fight sequences, but it’s the spaces in-between these moments – the calm before each storm – where the film seriously suffers.

A Stuttering Screenplay

The fitful screenplay constantly stops the flow of action to indulge in more unnecessary deluges of exposition; it’d be like if Mary Poppins Returns cut off its musical numbers to become a hard-lined John Grisham court drama, constantly stopping and starting to its own detriment. One of the shared elements of both The Raid and John Wick that made them both work so well – and is often forgotten by their imitators – is their relentless pace. Once the action starts, it never stops, holding the audience by the throat and dragging them alongside their unbroken expeditions, ones often paved with blood and bullets.

Furie is another mimic that forgets this, putting the kibosh on any flow once it’s begun, which causes a progressive disinterest in the story, which is surprisingly thin despite how much time is devoted into trying to expand its breadth. By the time the film enters it’s train-set third act, the growing cast becomes increasingly analogous, useless extras to the central story of Ngo’s one-woman pursuit. It’s the script’s biggest flaw, and one that ultimately sinks the movie into just passable territory – dialogue is superfluous in a picture like this, but a stable rhythm is everything, and that all falls back onto the foundations of the original screenplay (also, the less said about the frequent flashbacks, the better).

Veronica’s Showcase

This is Veronica Ngo’s calling card and she fully delivers; despite appearing in the cast of Bright, Star Wars: The Last Jedi and the ill-fated Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon sequel, the film’s greatest accomplishment is proving that Ngo has what it takes – both in her action and non-action moments. I’d love to see what Gareth Evans or Timo Tjahjanto could do with her, especially because of how they’ve managed to mould Julie Estelle into a certifiable on-screen badass. It’s a physically demanding role, as she’s required to both deal out and receive a fair amount of kicks and punches in equal measure, and she owns every bone-splitting set-piece she’s unwillingly thrown into.

It’s not an insult to call Furie a Raid imitator; Gareth Evans created such a distinctive style of shooting action, one which combined the steady, clear framing and spacial awareness of Jackie Chan’s best work, with the violence of a modern horror film, that it’s always fun to see other directors experiment within that playground. Le-Van Kiet’s biggest innovation is his lighting. As soon as Phoung steps out of the sunny countryside, his aesthetic reflects this, drowning Ngo in a dazzling array of neon-lights and dingy interiors, it’s like if Gaspar Noe teamed up with Sammo Hung; performatively slick skirmishes that are captured like unstable dreams.

Furie: Conclusion

In the midst of huge surge of major genre titles emerging from Indonesia, China and South Korea, Furie proves to be a refreshing entry from Vietnam, and an equally exhilarating showcase of Veronica Ngo’s undeniable talent. Despite it’s distracting pacing issues, I’d happily call this Vietnam’s answer to The Raid, a captivating thriller that is bound to entertain any action fan – or those wanting to satisfy their bloodbath cravings before John Wick Chapter 3 comes out this summer.

What do you think of new wave of Asian martial arts cinema? Let us know in the comments!

Furie will released in select theatres in the US via Well Go Entertainment on March 1st, details on screenings and other release information can be found here.