Runaway Blues (1989) Review

“Runaway Blues” Korean Theatrical Poster

Director: David Lai Dai-Wai
Cast: Andy Lau Tak-Wah, Shirley Lui Sau-Ling, Ngok Ling, Sunny Fang Kang, Blacky Ko Shou-Liang, Kelvin Wong Siu, Tanny Tien Ni, Chang Shih, Chan Ging-Cheung
Running Time: 91 min.

By Paul Bramhall

Say what you want about how in modern Hong Kong cinema Louis Koo is in just about everything, still nothing can compare to the omni-presence of Andy Lau in the mid to late eighties. In the 5 years spanning 1985 – 1989 Lau clocked in over 30 screen appearances, and the majority of them were either starring or co-starring roles. During this time Lau’s onscreen persona came to be defined as the archetypal triad youth with a moral code, one which continued well into the 90’s, with titles like The Dragon Family, Bloody Brotherhood, and Casino Raiders all being classic examples of the role. The downside of Lau’s casting during this era, is that often it’s lumped together whenever brought up, and as a result titles like Runaway Blues can fly under the radar.

Sure it ticks all the boxes that define Lau’s output of the time – Playing a troubled triad youth, check! Inevitably heading to a tragic ending, check! Provides ammunition for those who think Lau should have stayed a popstar, check! However to take any of these into consideration and conclude that the rarely mentioned title is safe to skip would be doing yourself an epic disservice. Made in the middle of Lau’s busiest period from 1988 – 1989, Runaway Blues would mark the 2^nd collaboration with director David Lai, after he starred in Sworn Brothers the year prior (in which yes, he plays a triad youth). The pairing of director and star would continue, with further collaborations on Saviour of the Soul and its sequel in ’91 and ’92 respectively, and Tian Di in 1994.

Indeed Lai as a director may be most well known amongst fans of HK action as the guy that introduced Korean superkicker Won Jin to the world in 1992’s Operation Scorpio (and subsequently 1993’s Women on the Run), however his career was a varied one across multiple genres. From female driven youth dramas like 1982’s Lonely Fifteen and 1986’s Midnight Girls, to supernatural horror like 1983’s Possessed and its sequel, to erotic thrillers like 1983’s The Body is Willing. In fact until Lai collaborated with Andy Lau on 1987’s Sworn Brothers (which was choreographed by Sammo Hung’s Stuntmen’s Association), his filmography never gave any indication that he’d become a director associated with the action genre at all.

Although a mild success at the box office, Sworn Brothers was enough for Lau and Lai to team-up once more, and a year later we had Runaway Blues. Despite being first and foremost a triad flick, Lai’s fondness for drama is also present in a surprisingly multi-layered plot. Proceedings start off simple enough, with Lau as a headstrong Taiwanese triad who challenges rival triad Blackie Ko to a scooter race, one which involves them being chained together with their girlfriends riding pillion. In true HK movie style, everything goes to hell barely 10 minutes in – Ko’s girlfriend gets her neck wrapped in the chain and ends up accidentally being hung, Lau panics and shoots Ko dead, then while in hiding Ko’s acquaintances turn up seeking revenge, and end up hacking Lau’s girlfriends back to pieces while she attempts to give him time to escape. Thankfully (at least for him) he does, taking a boat to Hong Kong to start a new life, hence the title Runaway Blues.

It’s in Hong Kong that the crux of the plot emerges, as Lau meets up with an elderly triad boss thanks to his connections in Taiwan. Played by Chan Ging-Cheung (Rich and Famous, Widow Warriors), he asks his mistress to put Lau up in her apartments spare room. Played by Shirley Lui (Devil Fetus, Kickboxer), her character is a single mother, and the reluctant steady girlfriend of Ging-Cheung’s righthand man, hatefully played by the pock faced Sunny Fang (Thunder Cops 2, Her Fatal Ways). One of the initial deals Lau witnesses is between Fang and a Mainlander played by Kelvin Wong (The Moon Warriors, High Risk), however Fang takes off with the goods (a bag full of Rolexes!) himself, leaving Lau high and dry. Throw in a persistent haemorrhoids suffering detective played by Robert Zajac (Casino Raiders, Triads – The Inside Story) and the unexpected return of Lau’s girlfriend from Taiwan, you’re left with a lot going on!

Essentially Runaway Blues can be looked at as being about the impact Lau’s arrival has on the dynamics of those he enters the lives of. Lui, unsurprisingly, finds herself falling for him. Zajac knows Ging-Cheung is the real criminal mastermind, and pressures Lau to be his informer, but when it becomes clear Ging-Cheung is untouchable he realises he can just as easily pin everything on Lau to get promoted. Wong assumes Lau is in with Fang so was a part of the deal to double-cross him, but ultimately the pair develop a bond as mutual outsiders, one from Taiwan and the other from the Mainland. While Fang has the most transparent relationship – he hates Lau and would rather he be done away with – its Ging-Cheung who holds the most powerful cards, and also keeps them closest to his chest, keeping us guessing as to how he’ll use them.

Despite the various moving parts, Lai shows an assured directorial hand, and the various relationship dynamics play out in a way that feels natural and unforced. Complimenting the solid plot and characters, are frequent bursts of action from Blackie Ko. A solid old-school choreographer and master of vehicular stunt work, Ko would frequently appear on screen as the 80’s progressed to perform motorcycle-based stunt work, as seen in the likes of Pink Force Commando and Wheels on Meals. Here as the rival biker he makes the most of his limited screentime, in a race chained to Lau and incorporating a number of other riders who enthusiastically crash for our entertainment (I swear one of them is thrown off and hits the ground face first). It’s the kind of scene that lesser productions would be proud to have as their finale, but here it’s the opener!

The rest of the movie incorporates a mix of high impact stunt work, gritty fight action, and one gratuitously shot kung fu shapes face off between Lau and Wong (see if you can spot the Taiwan and Mainland imagery subtly incorporated into this scene). Wong, who left us far too early at just 42 in 2004, deserves a special mention for the stunt that sees him smashing through a window, onto the top of a double decker bus, and almost being mowed over by a car when he hits the tarmac. I’ll put it out there, every Hong Kong stunt involving a double decker bus is always awesome (yes, even the one in China Strike Force). Shirley Lui is also incredibly game for being willing to take a few knocks and bruises, taking a particularly high fall through the roof of a makeshift shed, and being thrown down an escalator for good measure. Not to be outdone, Lau and Fang eventually face off in a particularly nasty throwdown in a room full of rabid dogs!

The uncompromising violence in Runaway Blues really helps to set it apart from other genre efforts at the time, with the balletic violence from the likes of John Woo here stripped down to its basest core. Bodies are thrown around, shot at, stabbed, and slashed, and virtually every character looks substantially beaten and bruised by the time the credits roll. It’s also this commitment to realism that permeates through the ending, with no big bombastic action scene to close things out, but instead a different type of violent ending that draws everything to a fitting conclusion. In fact Lai throws in one final scene that I wasn’t expecting, which abruptly throws Runaway Blues into the realm of the surreal and absurd, but it would be a spoiler to mention it here. Needless to say, once watched, it’ll be remembered!

Overall Lau and Lai’s sophomore collaboration may tick all the boxes that audiences expect from a late 80’s Andy Lau flick, but it also ticks a whole bunch of others as well. From the solid story and characterisation, through to the bombastically brutal stunt work and frantic fight scenes, there’s a lot here to enjoy, and Runaway Blues certainly deserves to be brought up in any discussion involving HK’s best triad flicks. 

Paul Bramhall’s Rating: 7/10