Year of Release: 2005; Origin: Hong Kong; Studio: Abba Movies Co., Greek Mythology Entertainment Co., 1618 Action

Director: Wilson Yip Wai-shun; Producer: Cheung Shing-sheung; Script: Jack Ng Wai-lun, Szeto Kam-yuen; Action Director: Donnie Yen Chi-tan; Cast Donnie Yen Chi-tan, Sammo Hung Kam-bo, Simon Yam Tat-wah, Jacky Wu Jing, Liu Kai-chi, Danny Summer.

Essentially an Infernal Affairs style cop drama, this hits all the standard clichés of macho renegade police movie without missing a trick, perhaps a little too melodramatic for our tastes but with a substantial visual style that demands top kudos to director Wilson Yip, even if he does lay the sentiment on with a trowel. Action choreographer and star Donnie Yen has quoted this film as the pinnacle of his career, no mean feat, opening last year’s Toronto Film Festival with a thunderous reception which led to hurried predictions on the rebirth of the Hong Kong kung fu film and SPL quickly heralded as 2005’s best martial arts movie. Donnie has reason to be proud, the film’s fight scenes show a maturity and versatility in his choreography that has been stifled before now, whether in his own films (the hyperactive Legend of the Wolf) or other people’s (last year’s puzzling Seven Swords). Here, he’s adapting elements of street fighting, Judo, wrestling, weaponry, as well as his trademark kicks and wushu poise – Donnie’s turning into Elvis, instantly recognisable, beautifully pre-packaged with an infinite number of incarnations. But the main thrust of S.P.L.’s praise simply comes from those groggy sprogs who sit behind keyboards (I’m well aware that includes me), who’ve been looking forward to this movie ever since it was announced that Sammo Hung was to play Donnie’s arch nemesis.

Not only that, but burly, cuddly Sammo goes all gangster kingpin on us and whips out his flashiest suits, deals drugs, plays golf inside (heavens, no), smokes cigars and ties his hair back, like some greasy comic book character or subject of a hip hop video. He plays Po, the sort of villain who can command entire scores of hoodlums and has no qualms to killing off witnesses by totalling their car in broad daylight. Po ‘owns the streets after midnight’, something the Hong Kong Police force have difficulty in policing.

On Po’s case is the embittered Detective Chan (Simon Yam) and his trio of overworked cops, who smoke too much and, in a personal vendetta to nail Po, have decided to play the game by their own rules. The crooked cops harbour the only survivor of the fatal car crash, a little girl, and vow to seek vengeance for the death of the girl’s parents, and do so by swindling evidence and general conniving. This doesn’t bode well with slick rookie Ma (Donnie Yen), the good cop who’s done his time on the streets and came back the reformed sort after carelessly disabling a young upstart. Ma’s a wild card, and struts more like John Travolta than Dirty Harry, all leather jackets, cropped hair and belt buckles, who turns his back on the old boys when they recklessly kill one of Po’s subordinates instead of taking him in for questioning.

Ma’s suitably pissed off, but unites with the cops when they’re targeted by Po’s slickest henchman, Jet (Jacky Wu), a knife-wielding acrobat and sensational mover who slices and dices the cops one by one in a particularly bloody manner. Ma arrives too late on all three counts, cradling them long enough to hear their last spluttered words – mostly involving a trite subplot that sets the film in the context of Father’s Day, with each vulnerable character gearing up for a life of fatherhood away from the hectic schedule of police life. Such trivialities almost scupper proceedings, as Ma gets his feet in motion and instigates the final push on Po’s crib. He tackles Jet in the alleyway, a superb brawl pitting Ma’s baton against Jet’s scary knife, and is so hell-for-leather there’s almost an assumption that Donnie forgot to choreograph this sequence at all. Jet succumbs with a hoisting from his own switchblade, and stains his white suit blood red as Ma makes his way to Po’s pad and causes more chaos.

The moment we’ve waited for won’t disappoint, a sprawling, extended grappling match that sees Donnie lift Sammo high above his head, sending him crashing into his own tequila. Suspend your disbelief and you’ll notice that this is as close to fully blown martial violence as we’ve seen since Ong-Bak came along and elbowed everyone in the jaw. Pretty sensational stuff, the site of such legendary cult icons, one twice the size and age of the other, brawling for our unbridled pleasure. The story line wraps in an unfortunate twist that maybe hints more at how the Hong Kong film has progressed to a more cynical standpoint, as if the sight of Sammo as a gangster pimping bastard wasn’t enough.

A new direction for Hong Kong kung fu cinema? Probably not, but entertaining nonetheless, just don’t expect LA Confidential, because you’re getting Lethal Weapon, only less funny.