PTU

This Hong Kong policier is a classic of its kind, a technically updated version of what America has not produced in fifty years. Lloyd Nolan or Lee Marvin could walk on at any time. Tough cops and tough criminals beat each other up without whining. It is ultra cool and thoroughly enjoyable without asking any earth-shattering questions. The only way to not like it is to not like the genre.

We meet the PTU on one of their worse nights. Chasing a suspect, a police sergeant loses his gun, and streets away, the son of a crime lord is stabbed to death in a small restaurant. We follow the PTU in their attempts to both find the policeman's weapon and prevent the fallout from the murder escalating. While it sounds an intriguing premise, PTU is not the pacey action-thriller you might expect, but is instead a slow, dark, and tense journey through the HK underworld.

Some scenes are brilliant, the use of harsh light and almost omnipresent shadow works well, effectively capturing the mood of the underworld. There's some real artistry here, and it's for that reason that the pacing frequently seems to be a little slow; the scenes look so good that the camera lingers on them for perhaps too long, causing pacing issues in some sections. However, it does work well in terms of suspense as the film builds towards its inevitably violent conclusion.

On a negative note, the music is terrible, and significantly dates a film that's only four years old. You have to wonder if they ran out of action movie ambiance sounds and just hit the classic cheese guitar button instead, but I guess that's just an Eastern film meets Western audience convention clash. It does however, in my opinion, completely undermine the final scene, which comes across as faintly ridiculous instead of as a dramatic release.

While it suffers from pacing and score issues, PTU's style and sense of tragic irony are enough to make it enjoyable if not quite essential viewing.

I don't agree with Philay Chan at all. I mean, are you digging at the acting and minor stuff like score (score's not important in this movie. There isn't even a score in most of the scenes) just because everyone love this movie and applauded that night and you want to sound A LITTLE DIFFERENT?

I am not asking you to like this film when you don't, but the basis of your analysis is rather weak. I mean, I won't say the acting is brilliant, but it's definitely not spoiling the film.

Apparently, "P.T.U." is about the plot, the visuals, the humor, and most important of all, the minimalistic approach Johnnie To used to tell his story.

I will give it 4 out of 5 stars. Yes, it's not a masterpiece, but I was surprised to see that the only comment we have here is a negative one. This film is a great witty popcorn flick.

Johnny To returns to THE MISSION territory, where style is of utmost importance, and dialogue is for weak directors who can't tell a narrative film. Or at least that's one of many conclusions to be drawn from PTU, a film that has less to do with telling a story than it is to look, feel, and be cool. And yes, it is quite cool to behold.

Simon Yam leads the cast, once more proving that any movie starring Simon Yam, Anthony Wong, or Francis Ng can't be bad. PTU further proves this theory of mine.

The ending deserves mention, because it will most likely be pointed out to by many people. The ending will only seem "weak" if one takes the film seriously up to this point. This is not a movie, this is a study of movement, of telling a movie without actually bothering with all the things that encompass the making of a "movie". I.e. Nothing of real consequence will have happened by movie's end.

7 out of 10.

A police captain assigns his unit to help a colleague retrieve his gun, lost in an altercation with a street-gang, before a reporting deadline expires.

Just as much as the style and the look, it's the choreography and orchestration - and the way To shuffles the characters and objects about on his late-night chessboard; and the sound-scapes, in addition to the glorious night-lit streets and skyline which delight almost to the extent that the opening restaurant confrontational, ultimately tragic, musical chairs and climactic set-piece shoot-out serve as mere book-ends for what comes between. Or even, as brief irritants.

The characters don't particularly matter either - although there are some particularly wonderful-looking villains - because they're all just pawns for this visual, and aural feast.

You've seen plenty of tyre-squealer car-chases - maybe you've seen too many of them; To's come up with a new angle: the cars that glide at intervals through city streets, unobtrusively, apparently disinterestedly, and almost noiselessly - perhaps just to get you thinking "now I wonder what they're up to'? A crime film where all the cars keep within the speed limit? Shurely shome mishtake?

And then there's the kid on the bicycle: by the time of his third sighting you're wondering is he a midget gang member, or undercover cop - or afterhours drugs mule, even; and will it be his fate to be ripped apart with bullets, by all sides? How cruel could that be, for somebody so young? It's all about building tension, and keeping you on edge - or maybe filling in the spaces on that chessboard.

There are some great scenes and ideas, too - of course: as with that opening restaurant scene where various customers get re-assigned according to their place in the hierarchy, and phone messages that we only later become privy to, have fatal consequences. Then there's the tense confrontational scene in the video-game arcade, with the array of flashing video screens vieing for our attention with a synchronised symphony of unanswered cell-phones; and there's the men in cages, bent over almost triple.

Thematically, it reminds me of Kurosawa's 'Stray Dog' - and there may have been more than one scene of that classic referenced; visually; and to a certain extent narrative-wise, it reminded me of Scorsese's 'After Hours'. The boy on the bicycle reminded me of the boy in 'The Third Man', and also of 'M'. But these were only in passing: To obviously has his influences, but his style is all his own. And, sometimes, style matters.