Like many in the Hong Kong scene, Donnie Yen has worn and continues to wear many hats. He’s been a member of a stunt team (The Miracle Fighters) and an actor (Tiger Cage; Blade II), sometimes on the same project; a writer and director, again, sometimes on the same project (Legend of the Wolf; Ballistic Kiss); a producer (Big Brother; Raging Fire); and more; working his way through the various positions on a film set/crew as he’s developed a respectable career in entertainment in a variety of genres. His latest project, which he directs, produces, and stars in, is the “based on a true story” The Prosecutor, a law-and-order procedural given the Yen touch. At times discordant due to the conflicting needs of a procedural vs. an action film, The Prosecutor is never dull in its often-naive view of the justice system and the people who serve within it.
Francis Ng Chun-Yu as Mr. Yueng in THE PROSECUTOR. Photo courtesy of Well Go USA.
After a particularly rough case leaves the suspect proclaimed “not guilty” in court and Officer Fok Chi Ho (Yen) severely injured, Fok retires from the police force and studies to become a lawyer. After seven years, Fok is welcomed to the Department of Justice (DOJ) as its newest prosecutor, joining the esteemed Mr. Yueng’s (Francis Ng Chun-Yu) team and given guidance by Bao Ding (Kent Cheng Jak-Si). His role is simple: prosecute the cases brought before him and follow Mr. Yueng’s instructions when given regarding them. But when his first case involves a young man, Ma Ka-kit (Mason Fung Ho-Yeung), whose plea of “guilty” on his first offense results in a strangely unnecessarily lengthy sentence, Fok starts to question what the purpose of the DOJ is, unknowingly putting into motion a series of events that will leave a bloodied wake before it’s over.
Donnie Yen as Fok Chi Ho in THE PROSECUTOR. Photo courtesy of Well Go USA.
Stories of cops or lawyers within actions movies are fairly ubiquitous in cinema. In the U.S., we’ve got films like the Lethal Weapon series, both 48 Hours movies, The Firm (1993), and A Time to Kill (1996), each with varying degrees of procedure and action; in South Korea, you’ve got the fantastic Crime City series starring Don Lee/Ma Dong-seok; and in China, you’ve got everything from the In the Line of Duty series (of which Yen stars in the fourth entry) and the Long Arm of the Law Saga for thrills and the Inspector Wears Skirts series for comedy. The point is that law enforcement often is a wellspring of inspiration for storytellers regardless of country or time period, and, this story, crafted by Edmond Wong (Ip Man series) and based on real events, is no different in being inspired by such naturally occurring events. The trick, however, is that the whole of The Prosecutor possesses two different styles of storytelling that don’t necessarily grate against each other, but don’t entirely blend, either. There’s one version in the style of an action film, complete with the flurry of Yen action audiences have come to expect from a martial artist who’s often too fast for cameras to capture properly. The film opens with one of these action segments, introducing audiences to Officer Fok by way of a police raid complete with gun fire and fisticuffs which demonstrate Fok’s physical abilities in taking down foes. This serves as an exciting way to open the presumed dry procedural by fulfilling the expectation of Yen action, as well as a means of setting up the kind of person Fok is (selfless to a fault). It also utilizes a cinematography approach wherein the audience is placed in a first-person perspective that’s not typical of Yen (as actor or director) that repeats later on in the story, but ends up being more of a distraction and detriment to the flow of the action than an enhancement. (More on the stunt work shortly.) From here, it shifts into the procedural, which serves as a catalyst for Fok to transition from the field into the courtroom, the presumption being that it’s the prosecutor who bungles the handling of the case and, therefore, Fok goes to school so he can do the job that he couldn’t before. Once again, these choices speak to the selflessness of Fok, his idealism in what justice and integrity are, and his naive understanding of how the world functions regarding the law and justice. This leads to a variety of speeches from Fok (or others) on what the responsibility of the DOJ is, as well as the role of law enforcement, now handed off to Fok’s successor. Much like Jules Dassin’s The Naked City (1948), this portion follows cop, lawyer, and criminal in order to better understand the step-by-step process of crime, investigation, arrest, and prosecution. On the whole, one style slides into and out of the other neatly, however, when they don’t, the schism between the styles becomes strangely noticeable.
Julian Cheung Chi-Lam as Au Pak Man in THE PROSECUTOR. Photo courtesy of Well Go USA.
Balance is entirely key when it comes to stunts and procedure in any action thriller. The characters and their dialogue are what keep the thriller pulsing, while the stunt work is what helps keep the pressure on when dialogue cannot. Sometimes it’s an action set piece that threatens the safety of the protagonist or a key character; sometimes it’s a confrontation outside of the courtroom between colleagues that fuels the fire between them ahead of standing before a jury. Within The Prosecutor, the fight scenes more often than not support the narrative, but do so in a very specific Yen way. What this means is that Yen — star of such films as the Ip Man series, Raging Fire, and his recent feature Śakra (2023) — inserts action frequently in ways that replace natural character action or dialogue. While reconnecting with his successor, Fok finds himself engaged in a fight to back up the officer standing alone against a greater force of criminals. In terms of narrative need, it helps establish the deep well of drug trafficking that’s going on as it relates to the city at large and is potentially connected to the crime Fok’s investigating on his own. In terms of action, it provides an opportunity for audiences to see Yen in action; however, the stunts are shot in such a way that they don’t present Yen as anywhere near the formidable force he’s normally presented as. It’s unclear if the choice to sometimes shoot around or edit the fights is meant to hide Yen’s usual ferocity and precision as the film is based on true events or is continued experimentation within the procedural genre, but the frequent presentation of the stunts underscore Yen’s usual talents and, as a result, distract from the narrative as a whole. This isn’t to suggest that there’s no clever stunt work here as there are two especially dazzling sequences overseen by stunt director Takahito Ôuchi (Rurouni Kenshin series), both featuring frequent Yen collaborator Yu Kang (Dragon; Big Brother; Enter the Fat Dragon; Raging Fire; Śakra), which not only make incredible use of their surroundings, but do so in a way that captivates and energizes through their thrilling design and presentation.
Kent Cheng Jak-Si as Bao Ding in THE PROSECUTOR. Photo courtesy of Well Go USA.
Evidentially, the sensation of schism isn’t just in the imagination of this reviewer as this December 2024 article from The Straits Times writer John Lui explains how Yen, at first, didn’t want to do the project, and, upon taking it on, deliberately changed elements to make dialogue sequences more action-oriented. It’s worth noting in so much as while the action may be expected, it doesn’t mean that it’s always necessary. Sometimes the push-pull of a procedural works because of the search for evidence, the clearing of doubt, and the challenging of the institution itself to be either better than it is or to actually serve the ideal it believes it to be more so than any stunt ever could. The Prosecutor walks so close to the line of calling for a retooling of the justice system entirely to be transgressive, yet it tows the line instead, using Fok as the weather vane pointing the way toward idealism and away from disillusionment. It’s expected in a film like this, sure, but, overall, the film is more interesting when it uses Fok to push on the restrictions of the very systems he exists within to highlight their failures to fulfil their custodial role of the public trust. As presented by Wong, Fok is either an instrument of the system or he’s the one who’ll shake it up, and, with Yen playing him, is going to function about as audiences expect as a supporter of HK government. However, when the film remembers to focus on the tragedy that is Ma Ka-kit’s predicament, the focus narrows, the weight returns, and audiences are reminded that Yen is as much a capable dramatist as he is a reputable martial artist.
In select theaters January 10th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Well Go USA The Prosecutor webpage.
Final Score: 3.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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