He bian de cuo wu

A rural town. A series of grisly murders. A hardboiled police detective. A landscape forsaken by the sun, sodden from the never-ending rain. HE BIAN DE CUO WU starts off as almost too perfect a genre piece. Drawing from a catalogue of tropes, Wei Shujun—who has made three very different, increasingly sophisticated features since debuting in 2020—crafts an exemplary neo-noir reminiscent of Bong Joon-ho and Diao Yinan. The early 1990s is gorgeously recreated in 16mm, the suspense is dense and enveloping, there is a fun undercurrent of pitch-black humour and the clues and red herrings accumulate at a thrilling pace. Had HE BIAN DE CUO WU stayed within this register, it would already have been an impressive show of technique. But Wei has far higher ambitions. Once we’re comfortably settled, he pulls the rug from under our feet. He does it so gradually and skilfully however, that we don’t notice until it’s long gone. To elaborate further would entail spoilers, so let’s just say it’s a good idea to look out for signs of incongruity—not just in the story, but in the fabric of the narrative itself—from the beginning. Here’s an obvious one: it’s hardly incidental that the investigation is headquartered inside a former cinema. (Giovanni Marchini Camia)

Wei Shujun: ON THE BORDER (2018, K), STRIDING INTO THE WIND (2020), RIPPLES OF LIFE (2021)