Snakehead, 2021.
Written and Directed by Evan Jackson Leong.
Starring Shuya Chang, Jade Wu, Richie Ng, Devon Diep, Sung Kang, Celia Au, Perry Yung, and Catherine Jiang.
SYNOPSIS:
A Chinese immigrant gets caught up in an international crime ring of human smuggling while attempting to make a better life for her family.
Brief opening text informs viewers that a snakehead is someone that charges an excessive amount of money for safe undocumented passage to America. In other words, it sees the Chinese locals of New York Chinatown somewhat preying on their own, specifically that American dream craving, only to box them into a life of organized crime servitude, prostitution, debt collecting, cooking, and more thankless jobs likely impossible to escape from.
Written and directed by Evan Jackson Leong, it’s safe to say that Snakehead is a personal project to the filmmaker, and while it does exert sensitivity toward the complicated dynamics it’s choosing to explore, it’s been a while since I’ve repeatedly gone from actively sucked into a film only for something far-fetched or sloppily executed to break that immersion. Snakehead pretty much does this on loop throughout its 96 minutes. There’s an eye for atmospheric detail, and the performances from all are solid (especially the women, often relegated to supporting or background roles in similar films, but here are products of their upbringing and environment, proving to be forces of survival that are hardened and acting out of necessity), but nearly every 15 minutes Evan Jackson Leong trips up the narrative by introducing a compelling aspect that usually goes on to bomb in execution.
Shuya Chang is Sister Tse, employing the services of a snakehead so that she can hopefully be reunited with her daughter in New York (separated about nine years ago). Flashback glimpses show that Tse has her own problematic history and a vague idea of what led to the separation and her daughter being adopted by Chinatown guardians. It’s also made apparent that she couldn’t care less about pursuing the American Dream and that prostitution is not in the cards to make up the money. She exclaims that the kind of work is for the weak, nearly choking her pimp to death with a chain. Putting it bluntly, Tse is fiercely determined to pay off this money ($57,000) as soon as possible, even if it means taking on more dangerous work so that she can get out and live a peaceful life with her daughter.
Boldness and determination earn her a meeting with the top dog, matriarch Dai Mah (a cold and remorseless Jade Wu, terrific in the role). Such encounters also net her attention from Dai Mah’s once incarcerated son Rambo (Fast and Furious staple Sung Kang), a thinly drawn hothead who comes across more like a device to set off plot drama considering there’s not much to the character yet trouble follows him, and by extension, Tse, wherever he goes or whatever job he is assigned. If that wasn’t enough, he is also the firestarter of a toxic relationship.
Snakehead is at its best when it’s not trying to be an action thriller or focusing on the chaos men cause, tuned into the many similarities and differences between Tse and Dai Mah. Rapidly rising the ranks of the organization, Tse goes from a cook (also making a friend there that she narrates as one of great importance, only for this subplot to fall by the wayside meaning its resolution doesn’t contain the desired emotional impact) to drug smuggling, to eventually smuggling in undocumented citizens (progressively making more cash with each rung up the ladder).
Moving a tad too fast is definitely an issue, but it doesn’t fully commit to the segment anytime Snakehead throws itself into what should be a tense situation. There’s also an overreliance on awkwardly delivered narration, although Shuya Chang delivers a steely and headstrong performance otherwise. A hint of softness is also present when she finds her daughter but cannot walk up to her or interact until she is free from organized crime for fear of jeopardizing her daughter’s safety. It all comes to a tropey climax, one that’s off by several beats like most everything else in the movie.
If only Snakehead had the confidence to let the hardened women at the center carry the narrative… As is, it’s akin to whiplash going from engaged to bewildered.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
