Run and Kill (1993) Review

“Run and Kill” Theatrical Poster

Director: Billy Tang
Writer: Bryan Chang
Cast: Kent Cheng, Simon Yam, Esther Kwan, Danny Lee, Melvin Wong, Johnny Wang Lung Wei
Running Time: 91 min.

By Paul Bramhall

The best Category III movies usually come with a reputation that precedes them, and Run and Kill certainly fits that criteria. Multiple versions in existence because of cuts made to secure distribution in various territories? Check. A particular scene known for its shocking notoriety in the world of Category III flicks? Check. Simon Yam? Check. When the company you keep includes the likes of Dr. Lamb and The Untold Story, then the audience for Run and Kill should have a good idea of what they’re letting themselves in for.

Run and Kill reunites several cast members from the previous years Dr. Lamb, mainly Kent Cheng, Simon Yam, and Danny Lee. This time they fill the shoes of an average joe pushed over the edge, a relentless psychopath, and a straight laced cop (who barely clocks 2 minutes screen time – Lee’s presence is likely explained by the fact that, if a movie needed a straight laced cop in the early 90’s, it had to be him). Directed by Billy Tang, after briefly flirting with the straight-up action genre, in the form of the Jet Li starring Dragon Fight from 1989, it was Run and Kill which marked Tang as a Cat III director who didn’t pull any punches. He’d go onto to direct the likes of Red to Kill and Brother of Darkness, although for many it was his first foray into the genre that remains his most accomplished work.

Kent Cheng had been a supporting actor since the mid-70’s, starting with the Shaw Brothers, and for many he will be most recognizable as playing Butcher Wing in Once Upon a Time in China. Certainly not an actor who could ever be accused of not eating his fill, Cheng’s portly appearance has made him a mainstay of Hong Kong cinema even to this day, and in 1993 alone he featured in 9 movies. Apart from featuring in 3 of director Poon Man-Kit’s productions (Lord of East China Sea and its sequel, plus Hero of Hong Kong 1949), he also played a cop partnered with Jackie Chan, in the kung-fu clowns first foray into more serious territory with Crime Story. However it was Run and Kill that gave him his first legitimate leading role, having been in the industry for nearly 20 years.

Playing a jovial family man, proceedings open as we meet Cheng getting ready to leave for work. That classic HK synthesiser soundtrack, the overly chirpy type that sounds like it’s been extracted from a kids coin operated amusement ride, assaults our ears as we watch him joke around with his daughter and bother his pretty wife (Cat III diva Lily Lee). However when he arrives home early one day as an anniversary surprise, he’s shocked to find her engaged in some energetic shenanigans with another man. While drowning his sorrows in a bar, he ends up pouring his heart out to a lady of the night, who offers to hook him up with a friend who can “arrange for things to happen.” Drunk to point of almost passing out, by the time the meeting happens, Cheng’s stupor leads to him inadvertently requesting for his wife to be murdered.

With no memory of the previous night, Cheng is understandably surprised when a pair of machete wielding assassins barge into his apartment the next day, and turn it into a bloodbath (the assassins are even more surprised, not only at the fact Cheng is there, but that he puts so much energy into trying to stop them). As he learns the truth, it also comes with the realisation that he doesn’t have the money to pay the triads (who are headed by Shaw Brothers legend Johnny Wang Lung-Wei) for the unintended hit. After fleeing to China, his neighbour, a former Vietnamese soldier offers to help. However it soon becomes clear they’re both in way over their head, with the neighbour meeting an excruciatingly painful death. Unfortunately for Cheng, said neighbour was the last surviving family member of Simon Yam, who suffers from a serious case of PTSD. Blaming Cheng for his brother’s death, he swears to kill both Cheng and his family as revenge. 

So in short, Run and Kill is the story of one man having a very, very, bad day. The story’s structure takes an interesting approach, with Yam’s character initially seeming almost incidental, to what’s suggested will be the main plot of Cheng trying to re-pay the triads. However once Yam realises his brother is dead, his presence barges into Run and Kill like a wrecking ball, his only mission to wipe out both Cheng and his nearest and dearest. It’s an intense performance, and even more amazing when you realise that this was just one of 16 movies Yam featured in during 1993 (suddenly Cheng’s 9 seems lazy in comparison).

It’s once the cat and mouse game begins between Cheng and Lam that director Tang really hones in on his Cat III instincts. Like many of the infamous Cat III flicks, Run and Kill is based on a true story, the facts of which are used both to justify the excess of what’s shown on screen, as much as they are to bask in the cruelty of them. Arguably Run and Kill’s biggest asset is its commitment to subverting the usual cinematic tropes we’ve come accustomed to seeing. We all know the setup – the villain is about to do something unspeakable to one of our protagonists nearest and dearest, something you couldn’t imagine for a second would ever be shown onscreen, while the protagonist begs that they’ll do anything for them to stop. Then, just before that unspeakable moment is about to happen, the villain withdraws.

That doesn’t happen in Run and Kill, with Yam not only following through on his threats, but taking a sadistic amount of pleasure in them. This all comes to a head in the most notorious scene (spoiler alert: if by some chance this is the first time you’re reading about this movie, skip the rest of this paragraph), which has Yam setting fire to Cheng’s young daughter, despite her frantic pleas for him to stop, while Cheng is tied up in front of her. It’s one of those scenes which is so unique to HK Cat III movies (specifically those in the early – mid 90’s), in the sense that you’d likely never find a scene that comes close to it in most western cinema. Watching a child get set alight requires a strong stomach, and it leaves a distinct sense of discomfort while watching it. However in true HK style, things get even more absurd when Cheng then proceeds to carry the charred black carcass around with him, at one point even using it to shoo away a rat.

This is perhaps the attraction for many of the more extreme Cat III productions, they tread a line which frequently takes the viewer into places they never wanted to go, but then also have the ability to yank them back out of it, usually with some ridiculous scene that reminds you that, hey, this is just a movie. One thing that can’t be argued is that, by the time Run and Kill arrives at its finale, you want nothing more than for Cheng to send Yam straight to hell. With Cheng in a position where he has nothing left to lose, he puts in a performance so drenched in sweat (I mean literally, buckets of it) and desperation, you actually believe he has a chance to do just that.

While intricately choreographed action is about as far off Run and Kill’s menu as a happy ending is for Cheng, the work of action directors Huang Pei-Chih (brother of Tong Gaai) and Chan Shiu-Wa (here making his debut in a short lived action director career) is admirable. There’s a number of scrappy, hard hitting scuffles that incorporate some painful looking falls, and let’s face it, choreographing someone of Cheng’s size was never going to be about athletic exchanges. When Yam embodies an almost terminator like level of determination pursuing Cheng through an abandoned factory in the finale, the punishment dished out is both seen and felt, which is a true sign of quality action direction.

Today the Cat III shocker is close to extinction, with only the likes of 2017’s The Sleep Curse (from Cat III stalwart Herman Yau) providing a fleeting return to the genres glory and gory days of old. While many critics may look down on the genre, titles like Run and Kill prove that there can be more to them than blood and boobs, with Cheng delivering a powerhouse performance of a man whose circumstances put him through the psychologic wringer. As a director Billy Tang never quite reached the same heights again, although admittedly he tried pretty damn hard with Red to Kill, and likewise no other movie was able to deliver that same punch in the gut, try as they might (who can forget the fetus in the jar from God of Gamblers Return!?). For a reminder of when HK cinema had no restrictions on the punches it pulled, Run and Kill is one of the best, just don’t watch it on a full stomach. 

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10