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In Infernal Affairs, veteran Hong Kong directors Andrew Lau and Alan Mak took the brilliant conceit of pitting an undercover cop in the mob against a mob infiltrator in the police department and created a film that goes beyond suspense to dig down into the souls of its characters. Or maybe it's more accurate to say that they let stars Tony Leung Chiu-Wai and Andy Lau bring out the deep film that was there beneath this cat-and-mouse story. But either summation would minimize the contributions of the secondary players, Eric Tsang as the crime lord and Anthony Wong as the police inspector.
It's a complicated film with complex strengths, though not without its weaknesses. Two young cadets from Hong Kong's police academy are split up when one (Leung) is sent on a deep undercover assignment in an organized crime group while the other (Lau) puts on a uniform but remains a mole for the gang. Years later, Leung's character has been undercover so long he barely knows who he is, while Lau has risen in the ranks. The two characters close in on each other, a development that's inevitable but unfolds in ways that are hardly predictable. A police stakeout of a drug deal early in the film sets the tone: smart, quiet and subtle.
Throughout the film, writers Mak and Felix Chong don't miss any potential twist, and the constant threat of discovery is palpable. But thanks to the stars, especially Leung, we feel for the characters instead of just waiting for the next twist. No actor in the world conveys quiet agony better than Leung, who once stole an epic (A City of Sadness) playing a deaf-mute. Here, he conveys the loneliness and desperation of a Man With A Secret without ever going over the top. Lau is cool and elegant as usual, striding about police headquarters with a Fred Astaire gait and keeping a wary eye on his commander. Tsang's controlled theatrics and Wong's smoldering rage play off each other perfectly. (Anyone interested in female characters would best look elsewhere; the female characters in Infernal Affairs are only slightly developed.)
Like the performances, the film itself avoids much of Hong Kong cinema's lack of restraint. There's no broad humor, and the violence is more dark than morbid. Still, it bears Hong Kong qualities that are a matter of taste: harsh lighting, poor ambient sound, oversaturated color, and dizzying indoor wide-angle shots. Also, the lightly sketched backstory sometimes feels smartly enigmatic but other times tends to distract: Where did these people come from? The second installment in the trilogy, the moody Infernal Affairs II, helps to flesh that out. (The third installment makes it all more confusing than ever.) But even standing on its own, streamlined to a fault, Infernal Affairs is a taut and intelligent thriller.