Whack smack thud leap crash sock wham thock block hammer? thump whump crack crunch squish squish squish. Exhale. The Furious distills cinema down to sound effects and whirling motion, a pan-Asian approach to Hong Kong action that prioritizes a blistering tempo, unmatched fluidity, and virtuosic movement. Directed by longtime Donnie Yen choreographer Kenji Tanigaki, The Furious boasts plenty of Raid alumni and a similar tone: This is lizard-brain ass-kicking, done about as well as you could hope, with a variety of martial art styles, ridiculous weaponry, and oddball characters for flavor.
This is a film that knows its audience is nostalgic for the kind of throwback pulp where the backstory for a particularly scary henchman is contained entirely in their look. One glance at the bow-wielder played by Yayan Ruhian, an evil Legolas in a Tenenbaum tracksuit, or the bulky all-fours heavy played by Brian Le, and you know what you’re getting. These cartoonish baddies, who wouldn’t be out of place in an arcade cabinet, support an equally silly story. The Furious is a Taken-like, a child-trafficking smackdown where a despicable organization messes with the wrong parent. Unlike other entries in this subgenre, like this year’s tepid Protector, The Furious doesn’t hold back when provoking its audience with cruelty. From the jump, the script is explicit in its justifications: Everyone here deserves what they get, and boy do they get it good.
Those doling out the punishment are Xie Miao, playing a mute father looking to retrieve his kidnapped daughter, and Joe Taslim, playing a journalist looking to retrieve his missing wife, who was on the cusp of revealing this crime ring. The plot linking them together is sparse, merely helping these two punch their way up the chain of criminal command and towards the victims they’re trying to rescue. While Taslim is the better-known of the two to American audiences, Xie Miao should be jettisoned onto the world stage thanks to his charismatic and emotive performance; if he doesn’t turn up soon as a random bad guy in an American blockbuster, it’d be a shame.