REVIEW - BLIND DETECTIVE

There's nothing funny about forcing it. Johnnie To aims for a feeling of fun with Blind Detective, but he's short-sighted, and his objective simplistic. To's previous films have been fun, but as byproduct of his main intention, which has been to mount strong thriller set-pieces in crime story frameworks. His superiority in this regard has enlivened these films, and made them enjoyable genre hits. But To neglects this angle resolutely in Blind Detective. His arrow is pointed in the direction of comedy, and whether or not he hits, he's determined to shoot all the same. Fair enough. I do admire him for it. But when comedy could have spiced up a tense, tricksy thriller, rampant, cheap comedy is delayed by undercooked narrative. That fun he's aiming for is not to be found in the juvenile hysteria that passes for humour here, but nor is it to be found in the plot, which goes around in circles while awaiting the moment where the characters experience some cerebral clarity (not easy in this mess, to be fair) and get on with sealing the deal. Now, this is comedy of course, and though I didn't laugh, it's definitely not my place to deny this film the right to consider itself just that. It's a bad comedy, but still a comedy. And goodness knows comedy is one of the most subjective aspects of film. So it could be just me. Or just me and a few others. Or maybe it's a cultural thing; maybe Chinese humour doesn't travel too well (neither does British). It is hard to know just what we're supposed to take seriously here, though: To's story is misogynistic in ways it doesn't even begin to address (because it clearly doesn't recognise them), and when an estimable police officer starts to slit her wrists on the kerb simply because some blind lunatic told her to, I hadn't the faintest idea how to react. Maybe that's funny. Maybe I ought to learn to laugh at myself. Maybe I'd rather just be able to laugh at the film.