“The Shadow Strays” Netflix Poster
Director: Timo Tjahjanto
Cast: Auroro Ribero, Hana Malasan, Ali Fikri, Adipati Dolken, Kristo Immanuel, Andri Mashadi, Chew Kin Wah, Arswendy Bening Swara, Tanta Ginting
Running Time: 145 min.
By Paul Bramhall
When the Indonesian directing duo the Mo Brothers decided to apply their horror genre leanings to the action genre in 2016, the result was Headshot, a movie which immediately grabbed the attention of martial arts cinema fans. While it was far from the first time the 2 genres had been brought together, it arguably was the first for the horror aspect to be so heavily incorporated into the action itself. Taking a cue from Gareth Evans’ The Raid and its sequel, the inherent violence of fighting, and the physical damage that comes from it, were placed firmly at the fore. It was one half of the duo, Timo Tjahjanto, who took the concept and ran with it, unleashing The Night Comes for Us in 2018, a production that fully committed to a slice of martial arts mayhem, presented through the lens of a filmmaker who loves to pile on the gore. The result was a pure shot of adrenaline, and one that many felt would be impossible to replicate.
After rather awkwardly attempting to incorporate the same type of martial arts driven hyper violence into a comedy setting with 2022’s The Big 4, in 2024 Tjahjanto returned to the same kind of gritty backdrop as The Night Comes for Us with The Shadow Strays. While Tjahjanto had been rumoured to be working on a spin-off to his earlier production for a number of years, one which was intended to focus on the female assassin played by Julie Estelle, it’s easy to speculate that whatever that project was going to be has ultimately become The Shadow Strays. In fact in many ways his latest could be seen as a female-centric version of The Night Comes for Us, as once more we’re presented with an assassin whose part of a clandestine organisation, and finds themselves tired of a life full of death with no future.
Played by the half Italian half Indonesian Auroro Ribero (Two Blue Hearts), a 23-minute pre-title sequence sets the tone as we meet her in Japan taking out an entire yakuza clan in extremely bloody fashion (complete with Lone Wolf and Cub inspired blood geysers). Caught offguard, she’s rescued by her mentor, played by Hana Malasan (The Train of Death), who after the failure sends Ribero back to Jakarta to recuperate, while she heads off to Cambodia on the next mission. It’s in Jakarta where the main plot unfolds, which riffs on The Man from Nowhere when Ribero reluctantly befriends the poor kid next door, following the murder of his junkie mother by some shady characters who visited their apartment. When the kid himself goes missing though, she takes it upon herself to become a one-woman army to bring him back, following a trail that leads all the way up to a corrupt politician and his son.
Clocking in just short of 145 minutes, the runtime may seem exorbitant considering we live in an era where many Chinese web movies cover similar plots in half the time, however once you tune into Tjahjanto’s wavelength it soon becomes clear that the plot is not the main focus of The Shadow Strays. While I’m often the first one to complain about bloated runtimes, my usual gripe associated with many modern action movies is that there’s a lot of unnecessary padding, when a little more enthusiasm in the editing room could have resulted in a lean and mean slice of action. The Shadow Strays is that rarity in which every minute of its runtime is dedicated to building up to an action scene, and most importantly, the action scenes themselves.
It almost feels like Tjahjanto is inherently aware of such common martial arts cinema complaints like “the action was good, I just wish there’d been more of it” and “the fights were great, they were just a little on the short side”, so made it his mission to ensure nobody would leave his latest daring to utter such words. Every action scene, and there’s many, is brutally lengthy, with Tjahjanto’s go-to choreographer Muhammad Irfan (Hit & Run) once more on fight choreography duty, clearly having been given the mandate of attempting to top everything he’s done before. I confess to feeling an initial twinge of concern after the opening yakuza bloodbath in Japan, fearing the narrative would fall victim to the classic straight-to-streaming trope of frontloading the best scenes to grab the viewers attention, but the fears were completely unfounded.
A trait which seems to be increasingly missing in action (pun intended) in recent action cinema, Tjahjanto and Irfan understand that action needs to steadily escalate as the plot progresses (and even more so with a 2+ hour runtime!). It’s a concept that may seem obvious, but so much recent output falls victim to placing its best action scene midway though, and chooses to end with a fizzle (I, The Executioner being the most recent example that springs to mind). To witness a production which gets it right is a joy to behold, and while unacquainted viewers may understandably ask how the initial scene could be topped, thankfully everyone involved understands the brief.
Much like Headshot and The Night Comes for Us, for those that like their dose of martial arts action to be clean and crisp, the incorporation of extreme bodily harm will likely come across as gratuitous and delivering shock value for the sake of it. The point that The Shadow Strays executes so well, is convincing the audience that neither of those approaches are something be ashamed of enjoying. There’s a kind of joyous glee in how many of the fight scenes opt to go as far as they can in terms of damage, with a subtle underlying feeling that everyone knows how ridiculous it is, even though everything is played entirely pokerfaced. In one fight scene a group of attackers are wearing transparent plastic facemasks as a disguise, and when a gas stove is accidentally switched on, there’s a kind of guilty pleasure in waiting to see the inevitable moment when one of them has their face have an unfortunate encounter with the naked flame.
The example is indicative of many of The Shadow Strays fight scenes, with Ribero giving it 100% despite not being a trained martial artist, the lack of experience made up for by almost every scene being driven by her wild guttural screams as faces get smashed, ears bitten off, and eyeballs gouged into skulls. It’s fair to say her performance anchors the movie, with a portrayal as a slightly hunched, unkempt, and increasingly bloodied force of revenge feeling like the polar opposite to just about every other female assassin flick that’s hit the screens in the last 10 years.
If any criticism could be levelled towards Tjahjanto’s latest, it’s that the main story satisfactorily concludes around the 2-hour mark, with the last half hour circling back to the clandestine group of assassins Ribero is a part of. It’s essentially a double climax, but considering the only real time we’ve seen Ribero as an active part of the group is before the title has appeared onscreen, the emotional investment in having the characters suddenly reunite just isn’t there. To his credit, as if to offset the lack of emotional development between the characters, the inevitable face off between the group opts to go for broke, with impalements and decapitations involving everything from screwdrivers to nail bombs. If anything, it’s a finale that entertainingly belies expectations that every character had surely reached their limit in terms of the punishment their bodies could receive.
It’s worth mentioning a post-credits scene cameo that’ll definitely put a smile on any fans of Indonesian action cinema, one that, for once, takes a leaf out of the John Wick playbook that I actually have no objection too, as Ribero learns she’s now the target of every assassin who’s part of her organisation. While The Shadow Strays crams in so much onscreen mayhem there’s certainly no rush to crank out a sequel, when one comes, I’ll be first in line.
Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 8.5/10
