In my humble opinion, Throwdown further cements Johnny To’s status as one of the elite modern Hong Kong film directors. With his homage to Akira Kurosawa’s first film, Sanshiro Sugata, Johnny To has created a fantastic film that’s truly exemplary of To’s range of cinematic skill. It may seem bold to put To on the same pedestal as other great modern Hong Kong directors such as Wong-Kar Wai, Zhang Yimou, and Stephen Chow, but as exemplified by his unique and highly skilled sense of style and storytelling, To may even surpass those great filmmakers.
Throwdown marks another entry into To’s transformation in visual style marked by The Mission and then further cemented in PTU. This visual evolution shares many similarities to Michael Mann‘s and considering their affinity for the crime genre, the comparison is even more striking. Although Mann had an attraction to biopics and historical dramas, To has been forced into making bankable films in the Hong Kong film industry as a means to fund his more personal films. This circumstance makes for a fascinating film career that includes romantic comedies and action/dramas that reach a level of quality they should have not right in attaining, as well as the fact that his more personal efforts have a tremendous amount of effort put into them.
The basic plot revolves around a burnt out judo prodigy named Szeto Bo, magnificently played by Louis Koo. In fact, the plot(as threadbare as it is) simply revolves around people vying for a match or return of Szeto Bo to judo and slowly Szeto Bo’s reasons for leaving judo become clear. While the plot may be lacking in depth, don’t make the mistake of thinking that the movie, in and of itself, lacks depth. In the case of Throwdown, it’s substance is delivered by a rich tapestry of characters and a swell of style, both of which are delivered in spades.
If film technique doesn’t strike your fancy, then Throwdown’s greatest draw will be its characters. Szeto Bo is the main character and, at the beginning, isn’t especially sympathetic. Szeto Bo stumbles around in a perpetual drunken state trying to run a karaoke bar and gambling away any money he manages to swindle from others. Szeto Bo is joined at the hip by a struggling singer/actress and a jubilant young judo practitioner vying for a judo match with Szeto Bo. All three are played with due charm and eventually, if not immediately, are empathetic. The large cast of supporting characters range from a judo apprentice with an unhealthy preoccupation with Sanshiro Sugata, a triad boss so desperate for challenges that he spends all his time at arcades(all the while spewing copious amounts of smack talk), to a particularly menacing judo master with a pension for breaking bones and joint dislocations. In fact, what makes these characters so refreshing is that the film casts no judgment on any of them, despite their sometimes unsavory backgrounds. It’s made clear early on in the film that there are no discernible “bad guys”. All characters are given a stroke of humanity, typically exemplified by their desire to challenge themselves in judo. This is very similar to the typical story of a martial artist fighting just to be beaten, as a means of self-discovery. This may seem a bit heavy-handed, but the characters are painted with a delicate touch and don’t resort to monologues or forced character development(all character development is natural; as in it’s discovered as opposed to exposed by the film). The film respects the viewer’s ability to discern what the character’s true nature is.
As great as the characters are, the true strength of Throwdown resides in its technique and style. Bear in mind the style is all as a means to support the film, as opposed to serving the director’s self-indulgence. The lighting plays a strong role in conveying who the character is. The karaoke bar is appropriately bathed in oppressive darkness with shafts of light on particular characters. The shot compositions are consistently dynamic and act as a great visual treat. All of the compositions evenly space the characters and they are typically occupying various depths of field. This disciplined sense of geography within the frame results with a fantastic piece of filmmaking. Speaking of geography, Hong Kong is notorious for being a hopelessly congested city, but is filmed as a ghost town as a means of mimicking certain characters’ isolation. The editing is excellent and is best on display in the revolving 4-table bar scene midway through the film. The editing and camera movement create a contagious kinetic energy and truly adds to the whimsical humor of the scene. The sheer technique of the film is so rich that I would definitely put it on par with Wong-Kar Wai and Zhang Yimou’s films. Perhaps the greatest aspect is that the style knows its place as a means to support the film.
A common criticism of the film is that nothing happens and the main character is bland and unsympathetic. This criticism highlights the fact that the film doesn’t spoon-feed everything about the main character. His motivations are never explicitly explained but is definitely discernible. One only has to engage themselves in the film and the motivations behind the characters are readily evident. One noteworthy aspect of the movie is that all the appropriate actors are trained heavily in judo and this adds a great deal of drama and energy to the fight scenes. One glaringly bad moment in the film is a scene near the end revolving around a red balloon. While I won’t go into it, I will say that this particular scene veers way off into super-sentimentality. Since I have no intimate knowledge of the Hong Kong industry, I don’t know whether to attribute the scene to studio pressure to make it more accessible to a wider audience or if this type of sentimentality is simply part of Hong Kong’s film grammar.
As you can tell, I’m a huge fan of this film and recommend it to all adventurous filmgoers out there. It may not strike you as a your cup of tea, but if you give it a shot, then you’ll be rewarded with great experience.
Grade: A
- Jacob