only the river flows (2023)
A 2023 neo-noir film directed by Wei Shujun, Only the River Flows is a fascinating film about an overworked police detective trying to track down a serial killer--not least because this movie would be very different if it were made in America. Spoilers, of course, follow. (This being a neo-noir film, I will say: I liked this, you should check it out, if you don't want to read anything before watching, I get it.)
The basic setup of Only the River Flows is this: there's a murder in the provincial town in which Captain Ma Zhe is a cop, an eccentric old lady who has no family except for her adopted son, a middle-aged nonverbal man that is only ever called "the madman." It feels like the case should be pretty open and shut, but Ma keeps encountering little questions and unsolved mysteries, and keeps picking at it--and all the while the killer just keeps killing, again and again. And every single time, it's someone Ma interviewed in connection with the first murder.
And, because the town this movie takes place in had once been the site of some social works projects that were apparently halted or cancelled, Ma conducts his investigation from a theater that has since been left unused--might as well make use of the space, eh? This seems like an odd choice at first, but it, combined with very deliberate camera framing which nearly always places an object or a portal between the viewer and the action, helps create a sense of unreality, of constantly reminding us of that fourth wall.
Taken at face value, this is the most straightforward noir film you've ever seen. All of the murders appear very open and shut--it's the same guy, yup, we just gotta find him--and all of the interviews don't really point us to anything. It's all beautifully shot on 16mm film--I especially love all the shots of the torrential rains, the beautiful atmosphere of the river--and everything is just as moody as you'd like from a noir film in a small provincial town, but the whole time you're watching, the question lingers: is that it?
And that's what I liked about this movie: it lets you think about it. Everyone Ma interviews is, in some way, in violation of traditional social norms. There's the couple who are having a secret affair; there's the hairdresser who dresses in women's clothes; even the little kid who found the body seems to have a bit of a rebellious streak. And that, more than the killings, seems to be what is eating at the good detective: these people have lives and secrets they don't want to share with him. Everything that doesn't add up isn't part of the mystery, it's just . . . people living their lives.
The continued investigation starts to wear on Ma's psyche, and he tries to resign, is denied, so he delegates all of his duties to his aide (a man my sister described as having the brains of a golden retriever, which seems accurate) and it's while he's enjoying this probably rather unsanctioned leave of absence that he encounters the killer, the so-called madman they've been chasin all this time. Ma chases the killer into a back alley, fires four shots at him, and then tells the police chief that he killed the man. The police chief says that's impossible, and asks Ma to check his gun. No shots have been fired.
Ma is then placed on a leave of absence for real this time, and once again encounters the killer, this time at the river where it all began, and this time when he knocks the killer unconscious by bashing him over the head with a rock, the man is actually apprehended. We are treated to an awards ceremony where a harrowed-looking Captain Ma, who has lost, if Wikipedia to be believed, 55 pounds over the course of this movie and who is now absolutely swimming in his police uniform, accepts a level 3 commendation for his bravery in confronting the killer. He gives the camera a thousand-yard stare as he salutes the applauding crowd from the stage which was his investigation headquarters.
One of my first thoughts on finishing the movie was that it is very possible Ma was himself doing the killings. We aren't given a lot of clues towards this, but we are given very direct cause to question whether or to what extent, as our viewpoint character, his perceptions can be relied on later on; and there are a few very significant coincidences that feel a lot better narratively as "of course that didn't happen" than "gosh, that sure is convenient."
I don't know whether that's the intended read; what's clear, though, is that it's pretty clear that Captain Ma is not satisfied with the declaration that the case is closed, nor that we should be content that justice has been served. And whether Ma killed these people himself, it seems clear that after the first murder, none of the rest of the people who die in this film--and it is I think nearly everyone he talks to--would have died if it were not for him.
I can't help but feel that in America this movie would be a lot less . . . open. It would make sure you know exactly what's happening. It would show Ma doing the murders, or it would show The Real Killer walking away after the awards ceremony. Something, anything, to wrap this up neatly even if we don't get the bad guy. But Only the River Flows lets the audience ask questions, and wonder what happened, and a lot of its strength lies in just that. We don't know who the killer is, but we do know what happened: several people died as a result of a police investigation; an innocent man has been arrested and forcibly institutionalized; a killer has walked free.