Jiang Hu - Standard 2 Disc Edition DVD

The crime film was a staple of the resurgence of Hong Kong cinema in the '80s and '90s, in various permutations: above all, the glorious, hyperkinetic movies of John Woo, with their bullet-ballet action sequences and intense explorations of male bonding. Recently, the Infernal Affairs crime trilogy was hailed as a revival of the local industry: now comes Jiang Hu, whose cast includes many of the actors from Infernal Affairs. It is directed by a newcomer, Wong Ching-po, who has a background in music clips and commercials.

Written by Christine To, Jiang Hu (also known as Blood Brothers) is an artfully stylish mood piece. The opening plunges us into a moment of crisis and change, a dark night of the soul in the Hong Kong underworld. A gang boss, Hung (a long-haired, meditative Andy Lau, pictured left) is considering quitting a life of crime, or at least ensuring his wife and newborn baby will be untouched by it. There's a rumour going around that a hit has been set up against him. His best friend, Lefty (Jacky Cheung, pictured right), in dreads, ponytail, earrings and an emphatically patterned red suit, is a loose cannon, a man committed to excess in his wardrobe and his killing style. Is he now Hung's friend or an enemy? And what is going to happen to the three remaining crime figures who seem to be marked for death?

Meanwhile, two young men, Turbo (Edison Chen) and Yik (Shawn Yue) are chosen, in an innovative fashion involving a girl and a tattoo, to carry out the hit. They are bound by friendship and shared ambitions, although on the same night, the brooding Yik also initiates a relationship with a young woman who's compelled by debt to begin work as a prostitute.

There are mysteries and tensions in the plot, explorations of trust and betrayal, and an intriguing final twist. But the distinguishing element of the movie is its visual and aural style, its evocation of a city's underbelly, its unexpected, dreamy set pieces, unpredictable musical choices and artful presentations of violence, including a beating shot from below, through glass, and a rain-drenched, balletic finale. Wong cites Fight Club and Requiem for a Dream as films he admires, and Andy Lau has compared his work to that of Wong Kar-wai, whose influence is inescapable. The offbeat lyricism isn't exactly fresh or original, but Jiang Hu is fun to watch, a work of self-conscious, intermittent pleasures.