Furie (2019) Review
A tigress will fight to the death to protect her cubs, taking on predators many times her size if necessary. It is an instinct that transcends the animal kingdom. There have been countless accounts of parents displaying extraordinary feats of strength in moments of crisis, lifting cars off trapped children and performing seemingly impossible acts to save their young.
That same primal instinct powers Lê Văn Kiệt’s action-packed ‘Furie.’ Released in 2019, it follows Hai Phượng, struggling to make ends meet as a debt collector in the Vietnamese countryside. She has a troubled relationship with her young daughter, Mai, who resents her mother's reputation and the life they have been forced to lead. When Mai is snatched by a gang of human traffickers, Hai Phượng embarks on a relentless quest to get her back, plunging into the dark heart of Saigon.
Comparisons to ‘Taken’ are inevitable: both films pit a desperate parent against a criminal underworld in a bid to rescue a kidnapped child. ‘Furie’ is a markedly different beast, though- a more emotional one. The relationship between Hai Phượng and her daughter is the film's most convincing and compelling element. Mai dreams of a better life, while her mother struggles to provide even the bare essentials. When Mai is abducted, Hai is plunged into every parent's worst nightmare. In Saigon, she is adrift in a sprawling metropolis utterly indifferent to her plight.
The narrative, however, is not as convincing as the emotional foundation on which it rests. Though engaging, it’s also a little convoluted and predictable, with some very stiff, expository dialogue. The flashbacks to Hai Phượng's youth are particularly corny, feeling rather forced and stagey. There are a few welcome moments of humour, but the film is most effective when keeping things simple, focusing on the bond between mother and daughter.
Visually, ‘Furie’ impresses. The contrast between the lush, verdant countryside and the sprawling urban landscape of Saigon is striking. Rivers and trees give way to towering skyscrapers, neon-lit streets and cramped, grimy interiors. The city is a claustrophobic maze of dingy corridors and shadowy rooms, danger lurking around every corner. Cinematographer Morgan Schmidt makes superb use of colour, with heady purples, blues, greens and reds lending the film a distinctive visual identity. The camera moves with remarkable fluidity, giving the story a sense of immediacy.
Ngo Quyen’s editing is equally dynamic, with restless quick cuts heightening the tension of Hai Phượng's search. However, the CGI is a little dodgy. Although used sparingly, its shortcomings are all the more obvious when it does appear. Nguyen Hoang Anh’s score is similarly unremarkable, doing little to distinguish itself from the standard action-thriller fare.
On the other hand, the fight choreography is something else. Hard-hitting and brutal, there is a genuine sense of weight behind every punch, kick and bone-crunching impact. There is a clever use of the surrounding environments, too, with ordinary spaces transformed into makeshift battlegrounds. A particular highlight is the garage, as is the climactic confrontation aboard a moving train. Both sequences have the quality of a brutal ballet, combining fluid, precisely choreographed movements with ferocious physicality. An exciting chase sequence early on sets the tone, the action only becoming more intense as the story progresses.
Veronica Ngo delivers a terrific performance as Hai Phượng, bringing considerable nuance to a character who could easily have been reduced to a one-dimensional fighting machine. Ngo convincingly balances the struggles of a single mother with the ferocity of a tigress defending her cub. Her charisma makes for a compelling action heroine, but it is the quieter moments that reveal the full extent of her talent. The scenes with Cát Vy, who plays Mai, are among the film's most affecting, providing a grounded emotional counterpoint to the violence surrounding them.
The supporting cast is equally solid. Trần Thanh Hoa makes for a physically imposing and formidable antagonist, while Trang Le brings some welcome comic relief to her role as a nurse who helps Hai Phượng. Phan Thanh Nhiên is convincing as Detective Lương, while the aforementioned Cát Vy gives a believable, thoroughly natural performance as Mai.
Ultimately, Lê Văn Kiệt’s ‘Furie’ is a familiar action thriller elevated by ferocious fight choreography, a striking visual style and, above all, Veronica Ngo's terrific central performance. Its convoluted plotting, occasionally clumsy dialogue and generic score prevent it reaching the heights of its genre, but a genuine emotional heart beats beneath all the bone-crunching violence. For all its faults, ‘Furie’ is a potent reminder that hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.
