Police Story

(Hong Kong, 1985)

Directed by Jackie Chan

Review by Angus Luff

Police Story is a 1985 Hong Kong action-comedy film directed by Jackie Chan. Hard-working police officer Chan Ka Kui (Jackie Chan) successfully captures drug lord Chu Tao (Yuen Chor). But when Ka Kui is framed for the murder of another cop by Tao, he must prove his innocence and protect his girlfriend May (Maggie Cheung) and the boss’s secretary Selena (Brigette Lin).

Jackie Chan is beloved across the world, not only for his comically flavoured action/adventure films in different languages and countries but also for the way he commits to entertain and excite an audience. Jackie Chan does martial arts and performs his own stunts and fight scenes. Throughout his more than 50-year career, he has broken many bones and has hurt himself in so many ways, just to provide a death-defying, adrenaline-pumping stunt to make the film more exhilarating and enjoyable.

Chan has an intense and visceral screen presence; it’s hard to keep your eyes off him. Whether he’s being funny and providing excellent slapstick comedy or fighting off three or more people with nothing but coat hangers and ladders, he always finds something inventive to throw at a film. His films can be hilarious and intense at the same time; something really special happens when intense action is mixed with comedy in Jackie’s films.

Police Story is perhaps his most wellknown and acclaimed film, for good reason. The film is always enjoyable to watch. Even when insanely spectacular, brain-meltingly fast fight sequences are not flashing before your eyes, the film still drives along fast enough not to get bogged down in the “boring” plot that strings together the action sequences.

The way the film is framed feels like a breath of fresh air for North America, as Chan more often chooses to show the choreographed fights in wide shots rather than constantly cutting and shooting in close-up with too many angles. The jaw-dropping fight you’re witnessing gets to sink in as you process everything. Chan knows how to shoot a stunt or fight, and I think North American directors could potentially learn a lesson from Chan in how to make a fight scene feel impactful.

The way the fights and stunts are mixed with comedy feels like a careful artform that is being perfected right before your eyes. The film is a balancing act of comedy and action that somehow mixes the two as one. In many of Chan’s films, including the Police Story films, comedy is action, and the way he explores that is unique and still funny and exciting today.

The end credits in many Jackie Chan’s films show outtakes or behindthe-scenes footage of Chan directing, choreographing and attempting the stunts in the film. These credits summarize why the films are special. You get a look at how the movie you just saw was made, and it looks like people taking chances, hurting themselves and risking their lives for the sake of art and entertainment, which makes Chan an inspiration. He risks himself for the power of cinema and movie magic. He is committed to entertaining and inspiring. As you watch the credits for Police Story while listening to the musical theme featuring Chan singing, his pure enthusiasm for the artform rubs off on you.

I purposely chose not to reveal too much of the content of the film, so if you are not familiar with these Hong Kong Jackie Chan films, the movie will have an even greater impact. If you’ve never seen Police Story, and you’re familiar with contemporary American action movies, this film is a big treat.

Running time: 100 mins

Available to stream on Criterion Channel and Crave

Available to rent on Apple TV

Angus Luff is a student at Glebe Collegiate. He grew up in the Glebe and is obsessed with movies.

The Sinner (U.S., 2017–2021)

Created by Derek Simonds

Review by Iva Apostolova

The Sinner is a series created by Derek Simonds, whose credits include producer of Call Me by Your Name and writer on Seven and a Match and The Astronaut Wives Club . Each season is independent and unrelated to any other, the only connection being detective Harry Ambrose played by the veteran Bill Pullman. Although the seasons are not linked by plot or character, the style of presenting the story and the camera work are unmistakably homogeneous.

Each season contains eight episodes, always titled “Part I”, “Part II”, etc., as though the creators did not want to give anything away while keeping the viewers on the edge of their seats. The mood is always somber, the unfolding of the story is slow at first, and the camera work reveals a lot of pastels and semi-dark tones no matter where the story takes place.

Apart from the beautiful aesthetic, a feat in and of itself, The Sinner is not your run-of-the-mill detective show. Its cleverness comes from two main, interconnected sources. At the beginning, the story in each season is enveloped in supernatural mystery of some sort. Season 1, starring Jessica Biel, is about a woman plagued by strange visions which make her become either violent or catatonic. Season 2 barks up the spiritual cult tree, while Season 3 is about Nietzsche’s philosophy of life. Season 4 appears to be about witchcraft and magic. As the plot yarn uncoils, however, the viewer discovers that in the end, there are no supernatural forces involved but only human – all too human – stories of desire, jealousy, fear and love. And that is the second source of the show’s power: the human condition is, without fail, the main protagonist in every episode.

While Bill Pullman has never been a favourite of mine (I have always considered him a bit of a one-trick pony), he fits the mold of the damaged, plaguedby-grief, man-of-few-words detective rather well. The viewer is made privy to detective Ambrose’s troubled past and tormented self but without the usual sentimentality or glorification that other crime shows abound with.

As a matter of fact, the observant spectator will notice that Ambrose’s inner struggles always mirror in some way or other at least one of the season’s protagonists’ own battles. That’s precisely what gives Ambrose the compassion needed to connect with the people he’s investigating.

Although I enjoyed all four seasons, my favourite by far is Season 3, for obvious reasons. Episode 1 opens with a gruesome car accident which has caused the suspicious death of Nick (played by the charming Chris Messina, whom viewers may recognize from the edgy Sharp Objects, opposite Amy Adams). His best friend from college, Jamie (played by the gorgeous Matt Bomer), quickly becomes detective Ambrose’s prime suspect. But all is not what it appears to be. The rest of the season sets to reveal the unusual bond between Nick and Jamie built around their love of Nietzsche. Any artform that incorporates philosophy, and particularly existentialist philosophy such as Nietzsche’s, has my eye and ear. For the uninitiated, the 19th-century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, whose personal life was plagued by debilitating migraines and generally ill health, is considered the anticipator of Freud (to me the connection between the two is “no Nietzsche, no Freud!”) and one of the most controversial philosophers of all times. He proclaimed the death of God, signing some of his manuscripts as the Antichrist, while at the same time preaching “severe self-love” and heroism. Nietzsche, both in his life and his philosophy, despised charity and compassion, instead prophesizing the coming of the Uber-Mensch, a strong (in body and mind), beautiful creature destined to be the master of his own life and death.

And so, the rest of the season unfolds the unconventional life philosophy of Nick and Jamie, a philosophy which brings them both to the very edge where death is teased and taunted, and, most importantly, desperately attempted to be conquered.

TV show

4 seasons, 8 episodes per season

Running time per episode: 45 mins. Available on Netflix and Apple TV

Iva Apostolova is a professor of philosophy at Dominican University College and a regular film reviewer for the Glebe Report.