John Woo’s A Better Tomorrow Reminds Us That Our Best Days Lie Ahead
No one directs action movies quite like John Woo. The people who dismiss him as simply a “BOOOOOM BAAAAAM BOOM PENG PENG BOOM BAM BAM BOOOOOOM PENG SBAAMM BOOOOOOM” director can’t appreciate the artistry and care that is brought on the table, that differentiates him from the hacks of the world like Olivier Megaton and Paul Greengrass who have been tarnishing action’s circus-like, choreographic abilities to crap, insanely incomprehensible, headache-inducing shaky-cam and jump-cuts that only makes you physically ill. A Better Tomorrow (1986) not only showcases Woo’s incredible skills as a visual artist behind the camera, but gives one of his most grounded stories, as an ex-gangster (Ti Lung) asks for forgiveness to his brother (Leslie Cheung), as he tries to bring down the people who are trying to “pull him back” into the life of a criminal.
A Better Tomorrow’s artistry starts right from the opening credits — perfectly juxtaposing images of counterfeit money being fabricated to the sweet sounds of Joseph Koo’s theme song and Mark (Chow Yun-fat)’s overconfidence as he lights a cigarette with that same counterfeit american cash. John Woo’s fast-paced style starts to develop a pact with the audience — even if it can be a little destabilizing. However, you quickly start getting invested in the family drama that starts to take place, as Sung Tse-Ho (Lung) will do one last score in order to prevent his brother, Kit (Cheung), from getting hurt. Of course, that “one last score” goes terribly wrong, resulting in the death of Sung and Kit’s father. Sung surrenders himself to the police and spends three years in prison, as Mark exacts revenge on the gang who tried to murder Sung and killed the father, but gets shot in the leg and becomes a cripple.
Within 25 minutes or so, A Better Tomorrow breaks down the characters and reduces them to their purest form of humanity. Their overconfidence and ego-boasting become shattered as Sung tries to build a new life after being released from prison as a Taxi driver, only to be drawn back to the life by threats to his brother’s life by the new boss, Shing (Waise Lee), who rose up to the ladders while Sung and Mark have washed-up and failed to start anew. Of course, Kit blames Sung for their father’s death, and doesn’t want to forgive him. He treats him like an average “citizen” a policeman would and will do anything in his power to try and pin him (+ Mark & Shing) down even if he’s trying to rebuild his life and isn’t interested in re-joining anytime soon. It’s only because Shing tries to force his hand by exacting acts of violence that he’s forced to re-join in order to take-down Shing and his gang. The performances from Ti Lung, Chow Yun-fat and Leslie Cheung are astounding — particularly Yun-fat and Lung who share some incredibly poignant moments together as they try to see “the end” of their life of crime, longing for a better tomorrow. However, that “better tomorrow” can never be realized if Kit forgives Sung and make amends, hopeful that they can rebuild a better life, free of crime.
With all of this emotional impact that John Woo packs through the 95 minute runtime, the audience member becomes quickly attached to the characters’ melodramatic, almost soapy storyline of family and forgiveness, something everyone can relate to. This is why all of the action sequences hit so goddamn well — because the audience cares about the characters and their own form of anguish, that could be similar to situations they’ve lived (or are living right now) with forgiveness being its central subject. Bullets (and humans) fly, slow-motion is extremely used and pushed to its limits (sans doves) and Mark’s peg-leg is totally fine when he has to kill a bunch of gangsters with two machine-guns.
The surrealism (or “BOOOOOM BAAAAAM BOOM PENG PENG BOOM BAM BAM BOOOOOOM PENG SBAAMM BOOOOOOM” as some elitist cinebros would like to qualify Woo’s action sequences as) proves that action can indeed be art when choreographed so spectacularly by someone that understands the essence of visual and aural kineticism. John Woo is one of them — he not only makes incredibly human stories that most audience members can relate to, but dazzles the audience with spectacular, gravity-defying action that tells the audience members to sit back and just enjoy. Enjoy the pure fun it brings and the exhiliration you’ll feel in your soul when you see Mark kill the gangsters in a private room with such effortlessness. Enjoy the human relationships that could make you re-think the way you treat people as you need to forget & forgive in order to strive for a better tomorrow.
Even if, right now, it doesn’t seem like there will be a better tomorrow, Woo’s film reminds us that the smallest of actions count in order for us to be in balance with our own physical and spiritual selves. It is a tad melodramatic, sure, but once its carnage starts, it never disappoints. If we can start the process of forgiving our past selves, our best days are yet to come. Once we believe that the world will return to a perfectly balanced state, this is where our collective healing process begin. Yes, there will be a better tomorrow. If we think about it, it will happen.
