Run and Kill: Analysis (Spoilers)

When compared to your standard horror and exploitations films, Hong Kong Category III films are an entirely different beast. While they span different genres, they are generally considered to be all one subgenre, taking on a life of their own. Whether it’s horror, exploitation, crime, and even erotic, Category III films are notorious for pushing the envelope on what is acceptable to show in theatres, often raising questions about their place in history. Considered to be the equivalent of the NC-17 rating, Category III films generally tend to be far more extreme in their content and what they show. Many films tend to be more on the mean-spirited side, showing graphic scenes of sex and violence for shock value, as opposed to a vehicle for moving the plot forward. Yet, despite scathing critiques from critics and other reviewers, several of these films had magnificent runs in theatres, generating much revenue. Actors like Anthony Wong won awards for their performances in these ultraviolent films. He received the Best Actor award for his leading role in The Untold Story (1993), a sadistic, violent, depraved film that has numerous layers to it. That’s a key for these films: layers; they are not without subtext, and a majority of the Category III films that came out in the ’90s often explored themes that revolved around the imminent Hong Kong handover in 1997, where the British government would hand over control of Hong Kong to mainland China. It was a period of anxiety and uncertainty, and directors conveyed that in their films. Billy Tang’s Run and Kill (1993) is one of those films that is rooted in the upcoming handover, displaying gratuitous violence and scenes of a shocking nature with the backdrop focusing exclusively on the change Hong Kong would soon undergo.

Fatty Cheung is an honest, successful, jovial man who runs a propane store in Hong Kong. He’s happily married and has a daughter named Pinky. The film begins with an alarm going off, and Cheung gets up for work. He kisses his wife who is still trying to sleep, annoying her. He wakes up Pinky and tells her to get ready for school. You see how devoted Cheung is to his wife and daughter, although you get the suspicion that his wife doesn’t share that same devotion. Cheung takes his daughter to school and heads off to work. At the store, Cheung’s mother stops by to give him lunch, and she reminds him that today is his wedding anniversary. The last time he forgot about it, his wife was angry with him for a whole month. He also talks about giving more money to her father to build another house in mainland China. It’s evident that Cheung is a bit of a pushover and really doesn’t stand up for himself. When he gets home a little early, he finds his wife and another man having sex, and all he could think to say was they should use the bed because it’s more comfortable, and then steps out of the apartment. He goes back in and tells them to put some clothes on and not to let anyone see them, because it will lead to gossip and ridicule. Cheung leaves and begins walking around town and stress eating, eventually bumping into an old classmate from school. They go to a bar and Cheung proceeds to get plastered. His friend leaves with a married woman for a night of fun, further frustrating Cheung, and he just keeps drinking to the point he can barely form a coherent sentence and is clearly off balance. A woman named Fanny arrives at the bar and takes a seat next to Cheung. He ends up buying her the drink she ordered and she sees he has fat stacks of cash. Cheung tells Fanny about his wife’s infidelity, and she tells Cheung that he should teach his wife and her lover a lesson, and she knows who can do it for him. Because Cheung is so drunk and not in his right mind, he mistakenly places a hit on his wife and her lover, acted out by a Vietnamese gang. The man who accepted the hit takes money from Cheung’s wallet as he leans against a wall in an alley. It’s not enough for the hit, but he takes it as a down payment and says they’ll collect the rest later. What unfolds is a series of brutal and gruesome events that take Cheung on a downward spiral into madness, costing him the lives of his mother and daughter. He comes home after sleeping in an alleyway, and his wife’s lover is over again. As the lover is about to leave, the Vietnamese gang shows up and all hell breaks loose. Cheung has zero recollection of what happened the night before. He doesn’t remember having his money taken by both Fanny and the leader of the gang, and he definitely doesn’t remember saying he wanted his wife dead. What he was trying to say in the alley was “I want my wife dead… dead… drunk. I want her dead drunk.” The gang member didn’t get all that though. He was just interested in making some money. Cheung is knocked out, the lover killed, and his wife’s throat slit on a knife stuck in the wall, her blood dripping on Cheung, signifying her blood is LITERALLY on his hands. He ends up getting caught between the Vietnamese gang, and a gang from mainland China, both looking to exploit and murder.

Run and Kill is a dark and gloomy film. Not just because the majority of the film takes place at night, but the neon lights of clubs and shops, the different shades of colors used, and swirling smoke in the streets as people travel to their destinations. It has a very doom-laden atmosphere to it, serving to convey a sense of anxiety and uncertainty that cast a shadow over Hong Kong and its inevitable future. The club where Cheung got plastered and and the hit set up is called ‘1997,’ which is no coincidence, seeing that the Hong Kong handover would take place in 1997, just four years after Run and Kill was released. The Vietnamese gang, along with the gang from mainland China, are “othered,” but so are many Hong Kongers, creating a complicated structure. Cheung is a kind and caring man, but is taken advantage of by others looking to exploit him and anyone like him. The members of the Vietnamese gang fled Vietnam after the Communist Party gained power (Vietnam is just as important here as Hong Kong), so now they are exploiting an ultra-capitalist Hong Kong for their own benefit, not caring who gets hurt or killed along the way, and have no intention of ever going back to Vietnam. The gang from mainland China are referred to as “Rats,” probably because they are scene as rats infesting Hong Kong and, like the Vietnamese gang, looking for personal gain by exploiting the system. They are also ex-military and fought in the Vietnam War, bringing much cohesion to the narrative. One of the leading members is Ching Fung, played by the incredible Simon Yam. Fung is an extremely violent person, and is pretty much batshit crazy. One scene shows a flashback of Ching Fung and one of his brothers fighting in the Vietnam war; it’s almost hallucinatory in its delivery, showing fire all around everyone, and gunfire everywhere, resulting in the death of Ching’s brother. Cheung finds himself in the crosshairs of Ching Fung, after his brother dies from wounds inflicted by members of the Vietnamese gang. You see, after Cheung’s wife and her lover were killed, he flees to the mainland and enlists the help of Ching Fung’s gang, but it all goes wrong and Cheung finds himself in even deeper trouble than he initially was. Ching Fung’s only remaining brother agrees to help Cheung, so they and a couple other gang members head back to Hong Kong. Cheung meets with the Vietnamese gang at a theatre playing a Category III erotic film. This is an interesting juxtaposition: two different worlds in the Category III realm are about to collide. The patrons there for the film are just looking for a good time and indulge in fantasies. However, they are treated to a violent bloodbath as the two gangs collide and the blood begins to flow and spray. It’s an interesting, well-shot scene depicting two worlds cut from the same cloth violently and perversely intertwining with one another.

After the murderous episode at the theatre, Cheung and Ching Fung’s brother are captured and taken to where the gang is hiding out. Ching’s brother is tortured, and Cheung is about to be next; however, Ching Fung and some of his men show up and slaughter the Vietnamese gang. Ching Fung appears to be an unstoppable killing machine, like a Terminator. When Ching finds his brother and Cheung, he nearly loses when seeing his brother on the brink of death. Ching tells Cheung that if his only brother dies, he will kill Cheung and his entire family. Well, after the three of them leave the hideout, Ching’s brother dies, and what follows is one murderous episode after another. Ching is fiendishly determined to make Cheung pay, and that’s exactly what happens. The rest of the film is a cat and mouse game between Cheung and Ching Fung. Even the police are involved, as they have been talking with Cheung since the murder of his wife. One difference between this film and other Category III films of the same ilk is the police aren’t depicted as being completely incompetent and lazy. In fact, their presence is minimal and basically serves as driving the plot forward. What you do see, though, is the firepower they pack, as seen when the police force arrives at Cheung’s mother’s apartment complex, where her and Pinky are being held hostage by Ching Fung. Many of them have itchy trigger fingers, but no one is shot and killed. The only person who does die in this scene is Cheung’s mother. When Ching Fung demands Cheung and a car, the police chief (played by Danny Lee) says that’s impossible. Without missing a beat, Ching aggressively walks towards Cheung’s mother, who is tied up, and violently pushes her through the window, everyone watching her fall multiple stories and landing on a car. It’s just one way of showing how insane Ching Fung is; he just doesn’t care about anything except death and revenge. Now, it’s just Ching and Pinky, but Cheung, not wanting to see his daughter die, goes up to the apartment to confront Ching Fung. All three come out of the apartment complex covered up with a sheet, so the police can’t see who they are targeting. They get in a car and immediately speed away, their escape covered by some of Ching Fung’s men, who cause an explosion to prevent the police from giving chase.

Ching Fung brings Cheung and Pinky to an abandoned warehouse, where he ties each of them to a chair, and ties ropes that hang all around them. It’s a nerve-racking, insanely intense scene that makes your heart beat faster and faster. Ching tells Cheung that he told him what he would do if his brother died. Ching begins to pour gasoline all over, an ominous indicator of what’s about to happen. Pinky cries and pleads with Ching Fung to not burn her. She repeatedly says this, and you begin to wonder if it’s actually going to happen. The build-up is perfectly and maddingly placed, and you see Ching walk up to Cheung, pulling out a lighter while Cheung begs Ching not to do it. You want to believe that Cheung will free himself and stop Ching, but no. Ching lets the gasoline and it blazes a path to Pinky and she instantly catches fire, screaming and screaming for her dad to help her. Cheung watches in horror as his daughter is burned alive, his face dripping with sweat and tears and you can see he has been completely broken down, losing his mind. It doesn’t end there, though. You think Ching Fung can’t be any more savage and and cruel than he already is, but he takes the charred body of Pinky and places it in front Cheung, speaking with the voice of a child, “Daddy. I’m so dark. Can you still recognize me?” It’s one of those instances where you’re either going to see it as darkly comical, which is certainly not uncommon in Hong Kong Category III films, or you’ll be appalled at the depiction of extreme violence and overkill. Yes, Pinky’s death could’ve been far less savage, but it also shows just how uncontrollable and heartless Ching Fung is. He takes things to the utmost extreme without giving a second thought. Concerning the death of children in Category III films, they tend to be on the more violent side and serve no real purpose in moving the plot. In American films, children dying are typically used to keep the narrative moving in the direction it needs to go, and they are nowhere near as merciless and brutal as what you see in these Hong Kong films. Children deaths are jaw-dropping and head-turning, yet you can place some context on this as them being the victims of people who find themselves in unfortunate, hopeless circumstances, usually as a result of financial and economic hardship (the things you find yourself doing in terrible situations). Or, you can look at it as them acting as a fearful Hong Kong caught between two powers and falling victim, whether it’s the British Empire, mainland China, or gangs from different cultural backgrounds.

Cheung, having completely lost it, breaks free and tackles Ching Fung. From there, the final ten minutes or so is Ching Fung’s relentless pursuit of Cheung, as both continuously fight to the very end. No matter what Cheung does to Ching Fung, he keeps coming; he won’t stop until Cheung is dead. This inability to permanently put Ching down could be seen as the approaching Hong Kong Handover. Nothing you do can stop its inexorable approach, whether you want it or not. Those final ten minutes of the film are incredibly intense, well-choreographed and shot. At this point, the boss of Ching Fung’s gang, along with a couple other members, believe Ching is beyond saving but want him to stop his pursuit. Without hesitating, Ching kills all three by shooting him. We must also mention that Cheung grabs the charred remains of his daughter and runs off, trying to get away from Ching. At one point, Cheung turns a corner and his daughter’s head hits a corner, knocking it off. Again, another instance of dark comedy, or further tragedy to Cheung’s already dead daughter. Cheung even shoos away a rat with the body, realizing the head is missing. This further enrages Cheung, and now HE’S determined to make Ching Fung pay. The culmination of social, economic, and outside forces have driven Cheung to madness. The film begins with him being a model citizen, to someone who has been exploited and lost everything in a short amount of time. No one is safe from the imminent societal and economic changes looming on the horizon. Additionally, no one is safe in the present, as people are trying to navigate their way through a system of structural and social violence, designed to benefit only a select few. Cheung eventually kills Ching Fung, but at the expense of Cheung’s family and sanity. The film ends with police arriving and Cheung repeatedly saying “Is that bastard dead?” It’s clear that Cheung will never be the same.

For such an insanely violent and graphic film, everything from the acting, cinematography, editing, audio is top notch. The recent release of the film by boutique label _error_4444 is quite a treasure. Gorgeous cover art, special features with a video essay, audio commentary, stickers, and more. And the film itself is a brand new 2K restoration that beautifully (odd to use that word for this film) displays everything discussed here. Kent Cheng played the tragic character of Fatty Cheung in wondrous fashion. His ability to play a character who, at first, was someone just trying to live a normal life to someone who lost everything is astounding. Body posture, facial expressions, dialog, all make you totally invested in his character, to see just how far he falls and what happens to him next. The scene at the bar where he’s drunk is an excellent gauge of Kent Cheng’s skills. You wonder if he really was drunk, with his believably slurred speech and inability to maintain his balance. Simon Yam steal the show, though. His ruthless, homicidal portrayal of Ching Fung is almost too good. Despite the horrible things he does, you can’t help but feel engaged and invested, but his death at the end is a welcome relief. It’s all in his face, his piercing eyes as he bores a hole right through, not caring if you live or die. His role as Ching Fung is on par with his character in Dr. Lamb (1992), Lam Gor-yue, a taxi driving serial killer triggered by rain, suffering from early childhood trauma due to his step-mother. Yam seems to be a staple for playing messed up characters, but he does it so damn well. Run and Kill exemplifies the craftsmanship that went into Category III films of its time. Through the lens of violence and destruction, Run and Kill explores a Hong Kong caught in a liminal state, unsure of what the future holds, and a population on edge, anxious over what’s going to happen to them. It’s a testament to the appeal of these particular films that drag us into unknown realms of a dark and threatening nature. You’ll be hard-pressed to find other films this unique and structured.