Where to begin with Johnnie To

Primarily known in the west for his highly stylised crime films, the indefatigably prolific Hong Kong director Johnnie To was a late bloomer in terms of international recognition. After making his feature debut in 1980 with The Enigmatic Case, he plugged away as a film and television journeyman until scoring a festival hit in 1999 with his stealthy actioner The Mission. Despite proving to be a dab hand at various genres, To has been labelled an auteur of action due to the global profile of such taut thrillers as Breaking News (2004), Vengeance (2009) and Drug War (2012). Indeed, his crime films not only constitute a particular form of pulp existentialism but feature subtle variations within repeated patterns.

These tales of cops, crooks and Triad members sport recurrent themes (brotherhood, loyalty, retribution), a stable of actors (Louis Koo, Simon Yam, Maggie Siu, Kelly Lin, Lau Ching-wan, among others) and a minimalist aesthetic that emphasises spatial dynamics. Comparisons to Heroic Bloodshed titans John Woo and Ringo Lam are misleading, since To is less preoccupied with moral codes. He favours measured stillness over inexhaustible firepower. 

Concisely channelling Jean-Pierre Melville, King Hu and Akira Kurosawa, his crime cinema can be summarised as a cool fusion of arthouse mood, subtle social observation and streamlined storytelling. Yet as much as To’s work displays distinctive signatures, his sheer consistency over 50-plus directorial credits prompts debate as to which are his key works.

Since his widely celebrated Election saga (2005/06) takes underworld machinations as an allegory for Hong Kong’s fluctuating identity, newcomers may be tempted to approach To’s crime films as a commentary on the state of the region following the 1997 handover to China. Although social fissures are detectable elsewhere, To has largely adopted a politically neutral stance in order to maintain productivity in an industry that has been irrevocably reconfigured under intensifying mainland China influence. His pragmatic strategy has been to deliver entertainments rather than statements, even if Life Without Principle (2011) borders on the latter with its fraught depiction of the global financial crisis at grassroots level.

One should also consider To’s intertwined roles as industry figure, collaborator and mentor. Along with his sometime co-director Wai Ka-fai, To founded the production company Milkyway Image in 1996 to produce quality commercial fare when Hong Kong’s film industry entered a slump. This means his fingerprints can be found on such slick thrillers as Expect the Unexpected (Patrick Yau, 1998), Eye in the Sky (Yau Nai-hoi, 2007) and Accident (Soi Cheang, 2009). Meanwhile, his collaborations with Wai Ka-fai add a further dimension, since To frequently cedes his deadpan sensibility to Wai’s altogether nuttier sense of humour. It’s a creative partnership that reached its zenith with Running on Karma (2003), an utterly sincere Buddhist parable which somehow tonally incorporates the surreal spectacle of Andy Lau bounding around in a rubber muscle suit.

Get a sense of To’s style with a double bill of his 1999 releases. Start with Running Out of Time, which revolves around the growing bond between a terminally ill criminal mastermind (Andy Lau) and the cop on his trail (Lau Ching-wan). To this end, Lau Ching-wan brings an everyman gravitas to his role as an unflappable public servant, while Andy Lau reigns in his trademark showboating for an appreciably low-key performance. In keeping with its title, the film is briskly paced, with its protagonists almost constantly in motion, although To is never tempted to break into a mad dash. Rather, the pleasure of this cat and mouse game is in the playful ingenuity which is captured through dexterous camerawork and smooth editing.

Follow it up with The Mission, which has sharp-suited hired guns being recruited to protect a crime boss who has narrowly survived an assassination attempt. Establishing the ‘group hero’ format that he would employ in subsequent films focusing on similarly tight units, To provides a masterclass in framing. There are suspenseful set pieces in a narrow alleyway and in an abandoned warehouse, but the highlight is the precisely orchestrated shopping mall shoot-out, which almost unfolds in tableau. Only a few shots are actually fired, making the drawn-out moments in-between just as impactful.

For those curious about To’s idiosyncratic approach to action scenarios, his nocturnal procedural PTU (2003) gifts perennial supporting player Lam Suet a plum lead role as a bumbling cop who loses his handgun. There’s a theatricality to the staging with streetlights serving as spotlights, but floating camerawork ensures complete immersion.

Next, quicken the tempo with Breaking News, which is at once a crackerjack police thriller and a satire of how officials try to control media narratives. Then wind down with the elegiac Exiled (2006) wherein two Hong Kong hit men arrive in Macau to take out a renegade associate, only to become sympathetic to his plight. This unabashed homage to Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah is a laconic rumination on masculinity, with a hazy palette that evokes a sense of faded memory.
 
Alternatively, pair two of To’s tributes to Hong Kong’s enduring spirit. Throw Down (2004) has a perpetually inebriated former judo champion befriending a competitor and an aspiring singer, while Sparrow (2008) sees a team of pickpockets trying to free an enigmatic woman from the clutches of the underworld. These are wonderfully fleet examples of To’s spontaneous practices, which entail shooting without a completed script and encouraging improvisation. In terms of choreography, they also find him developing a musicality that would culminate with the song and dance numbers of his corporate satire Office (2015).

Finally, step out of the underworld milieu and enjoy several of To’s vehicles for charming leading lady Sammi Cheng. My Left Eye Sees Ghosts (2002; co-directed by Wai Ka-Fai) casts Cheng as a young widow who encounters spirits following a car accident, while Romancing in Thin Air (2012) is a companion piece in which her grieving hotel proprietor gets a celebrity guest in Louis Koo’s spiralling movie star. Both work wonders with fanciful conceits, and the latter is particularly self-reflexive with its film-within-a-film elements. However, they also have sombre stretches as To tackles the theme of profound loss within escapist trappings.

The kinetic superhero adventure The Heroic Trio (1993) boasts the star power of Michelle Yeoh, Maggie Cheung and Anita Mui, but, as with much of To’s pre-Milkyway Image output, should be appreciated in the context of the 1980s to 90s Hong Kong production factory. 

Of later To films, Fulltime Killer (2001) is prematurely dated due to its postmodern riff on action cinema iconography, while Vengeance (2009) successfully casts French rocker Johnny Hallyday in a brooding role intended for Alain Delon, but is otherwise an atypically straightforward revenge yarn. 

Anyone getting into To should have a fling with his romantic-comedies, although it would be best not to start with the Don’t Go Breaking My Heart duology (2011/14) as these shallow affairs were designed for mainland Chinese consumption when big city love stories were all the rage.

Running Out of Time 1 and 2 will be released on Blu-ray by Eureka on 1 August. PTU and Throw Down are out now.