The Raid

Good cop, badass cop

Considering the martial arts action flick one’s mind immediately tends to picture atrocious 80’s hairdos, straight to DVD bins at Asda, sweaty tank tops and loners of a dextrous persuasion who prefer (often mercifully) to let their hands rather than their mouths do the talking. With the propensity to be throwaway, crass and downright dumb, the territory rarely offers any deep worldly insight nor has a hope in hell of getting a nod at the Oscars.

Never aspiring to be of major award winning material then, these films do cater successfully to the less academic pursuit of base level escapism. Speaking to the adolescent in all of us, they satisfy a secret desire (though it must be said of a particularly male variety) to be able to fight off a hundred men, jump kick ceiling light bulbs and walk away from explosions without looking. When in the mood to embrace your inner Neanderthal, they are bloody good fun.

Carrying on in this carnal tradition The Raid is a rip roaring, no holds barred blast of an experience. Sticking to procedure, it perhaps won’t alter the non-convert’s opinion, but for the fan and those willing to take a visceral chest pounding ride, it is one of the best value beat-em-ups of recent times.

Set and filmed in Indonesia with a local cast, using a particular brand of Indonesian martial art called Silat, the director at the helm is Gareth Evans- a man from Wales no less! Though you wouldn’t know it because The Raid has the same distinctly hard edged, no fuss style of other contemporary, eastern fighter films such as Ong Bak. Despite having only a tenth of the budget many western equivalents can boast at his disposal, Evans has created a work of such sure-footed ferocity, most Hollywood rivals are put to shame.

The Raid begins modestly enough, in the heart of Jakarta’s slums, introducing a squadron of Swat police as they storm a high rise tenement building which a notorious drug lord and his small army of goons call home. Almost as soon as the mission starts, having practically walked into an ambush, the cops realise they are in way over their heads and the already dire situation regresses into a matter of pure survival. Faced with dwindling numbers and no back up, their only option is to fight through a blazing gauntlet of fists, feet and stabby things.

It’s low concept certainly, but in a film that mainly revolves around people kicking each other in the head it’s always wise to keep things simple. Trim, slick and to the point, the plot may be rudimentary but is never superfluous, serving to distract the viewer from the fact that they are essentially watching a succession of fisticuff set pieces.

The film wastes no time in cutting to the violent chase. Heads will be repeatedly brained, throats continually chopped and limbs invariably twisted into unnatural positions. So much so that you actually begin to feel slight sympathy for the cannon fodder grunts whilst sincerely hoping the stunt team got paid overtime. When asked by one of the few surviving police how they, being impossibly outnumbered, can continue the fight once the bullets run out, leading man Iko Uwais’ character replies, ‘use a knife, a table leg; your fists.’ That’s the kind of relentless endorsement that sets The Raid’s unforgivingly vicious tone and makes Jason Statham look like he’s been playing pattycake this whole time.

While there are no nuanced performances, with most of the players merely chomping through the obligatory hard-nosed, swearword-ridden dialogue, actors like Yayan Ruhian- playing end-of-level baddie Mad Dog- display an extremely high level of athleticism, carrying out each savage kick and punch with such conviction that it’s easy to imagine the blows doing real damage. Silat aficionado Uwais is equally as impressive, conveying a quiet but lethal self-assurance and demonstrating a strong case for being the next Tony Jaa.

However the real star of the show is the deadly, dancelike fighting style of Silat. Evans expertly marries its blurrily fast but intricate choreography with the thudding whoomp of sound effects and the results are gloriously wince educing. The action doesn’t rely on sly camera tricks either and the martial artistry is rightly allowed to speak for itself. There is vigilant use of slo-mo and, god bless you Mr Director, virtually no shaky cam. Evans obviously had utter faith in the physical prowess of his cast because often whole corridors of henchmen are put to bed in one single, manic tracking shot.

The satisfaction gleaned from watching blokes who know just what the F they are doing is immense, and therein lies the reason for The Raid being a cut above the rest; it’s so convincing. In fact Silat looks so good on camera the early gun-toting sections look clumsy by comparison. The body is most definitely the weapon of choice here.

The film does have its fair share of oversights – where are the tenants? And why does a specialist, highly developed police force go about their objective with all the tactical efficiency of Swindon FC? Also, without ever taking its hand off the pain dial, The Raid can almost feel too intense and just a tad overlong.

Thankfully, the action is punctuated by less combat heavy scenes that give an opportunity for audience butt-cheek unclenching and additional exposition. There is a notable strand towards the end of the film that sees Uwais’ character trying to coax his brother Andi out of a six-year -deep undercover operation within the gang. The exchange is short but raises interesting questions about the motivations behind the characters and their sense of belonging. We are all part of the survival rat race and in order to endure we must find our niche. But once there do we act out of a desire for a greater good, loyalty to others, or simply because, as Andi says, the suit ‘just fits’? As far as philosophical quandaries go it perhaps doesn’t soar to Nietzschean heights, but all the same it’s refreshing to see an action movie developing some brain cells to compliment its considerable brawn. You don’t get that in Hard Target.

The Raid itself needs no existential pondering to accept where it belongs and what it truly is: a B-movie classic. Though the impetus may come from the ilk of the slopping cranium, it is a film that knows its field and sets about proving it with an unprecedented zeal. The likes of Commando and Under Siege will always have a special place in our hearts, but this is the new breed of action at its fastest, most technical, bone crunching best. And all without a mullet in sight.