Martial arts icon Donnie Yen directs and stars in “The Prosecutor,” playing a two-fisted, idealistic Hong Kong cop turned prosecuting attorney.
Some of the most fantastic fights in recent screen history, choreographed by Takahita Ouichi and Donnie Yen Stunt Team leader Kenji Tanigaki, are what recommend this star vehicle for Yen, long a standout in action films from the East (“Ip Man” movies) and West (“Rogue One,” “John Wick 4”).
But it’s a talkative, convoluted tale that too often loses its way in Hong Kong’s (not People’s Republic) arcane, British-derived legal system.
“Stay strong and keep true” Detective Fok Zi Hu teaches his proteges (in Chinese with English subtitles). It’s been his motto and served him in his years on the force almost as well as his instincts, his deadly aim with a pistol and fists and feet of fury in a fight.
But Fok leaves his old team in the able hands of Lei Ging Wai (Michael Tin Fu Cheung) to pursue a law degree. Fok returns as a prosecutor, the guardian at the “last gate” for justice. In a crowded, crime-ridden city his chief prosecutor boss (Francis Ng) is more concerned with processing cases and cutting plea deals than “wasting time” on getting to the bottom of many cases.
And while Fok’s new mentor, Prosecutor Bao (Kent Chang) may appreciate his zeal and idealism, Bao’s faith that “Justice will prevail” because “heaven is on our side” seems naive.
All involved will be tested when a simple drug distrubution case comes to trial. A young man has been busted for, he says, taking delivery of a shipment of drugs dropped at his door. His aged grandpa (Kong Lau) insists on his innocence and disrupts court with his protests.
But two slick lawyers (Shirley Chan and Julian Cheung) with unknown employers have pushed the plea deal. Everybody is OK with it but Fok. Digging around, prodding the police and circumventing the seemingly compromised chief prosecutor, Fok kicks a hornet’s net of thugs, goons, international smugglers and corrupt lawyers as he snoops and punches his way to the truth.
The fights are epic, with Yen flying into action at swank mob-owned clubs, in alleys and on the subway. His boss Bao, struggling to keep all this legal, is sometimes a witness Fok’s fights.
“Fok’s beating up 100 people!” Bao shouts into his phone at one point. He’s not exaggerating…much. But he realizes that’s not the “call for backup” our prosecutor needs. “I mean, he’s being beaten up by 100 people!”
Over the decades Yen has graduated from supporting fighter roles in action films in Asia and Hollywood and become an icon of cool on the screen, with a crisp, clean acting style that stands out among Asian martial arts icons. He’s terrific in this part.
And as a director, he calls on the very best to stage his brawls and showcase still-formidable (at 60+) skills and physique.
But as a director, a little Eastwoodian “Is this scene/that novella of dialogue really necessary?” cutting was called for. “The Prosecutor” bogs down in pointless sequences where we see modern lawyers drag pushcarts of files into this or that office as part of their investigation. It talks us to death through setting and costume changes showing off the wealth and ruthlessness of the mob bosses and the thugs they send after our crusading prosectutor on foot, in SUVs and on trains.
The courtroom scenes drag between moments of melodrama, and what sets up as a lean loner’s hunt for justice talks us to death, bores us with clutter and undercuts the time the villain lawyers need to establish their worthiness as foes.
There’s also a hint of Chinese virtue signalling as the drug lords are mostly from other Asian cultures/races.
With “The Prosecutor” we come for Donnie Yen and for the fights, and if we’re studying Mandarin, to bone up on Chinese legal arcana. Because God knows there’s a lot of dialogue to this thing. But at some point, all that starts to feel superfluous and in the end, boring.
Rating: unrated, violence
Cast: Donnie Yen, Francis Ng, Shirley Chan, Julian Cheung, Kent Cheng, Michael Tin Fu Cheung and Kong Lau
Credits: Directed by Donnie Yen, scripted by Edmond Wong. A Well Go USA release.
Running time: 1:57
