Chapter 144: A Lackluster Plot and Its Bright Spots

If Liu Qingshan's previous display of strength was a deliberate move, his current threatening words served as a similar personal declaration, aimed at striking a blow against those making trouble behind his back.

He knew very well that any businessman with a grand vision, or anyone in the entertainment industry with a measure of power, understood that the key to doing business lay in profitability.

In the face of profit, the usual petty scheming, double-dealing, and deception could all be cast aside, leaving only personal gain to be considered.

All that talk about putting righteousness above all else or using righteousness to restrain profit was pure nonsense. As long as there was no blood feud between fathers or the grudge of a stolen wife, anything could be negotiated.

Yet these people had managed to transfer the rift between Tong Qing Huang Pictures and him, employing every possible underhanded tactic to do so, which simply revealed their deeply contemptuous attitude.

No matter how young Liu Qingshan was, he understood the intricacies of the situation. As a martial artist, he naturally possessed a strong sense of humiliation at having his dignity violated.

Besides, he was a mainlander, and he felt all the more disgusted by the unique, condescending arrogance harbored by a certain type of Hong Kong local.

Hearing his words, which were brimming with resentment and grievance, Sammo Hung’s face betrayed a trace of helpless resignation.

"Shan Zai, have you thought this through completely? Do you really want me to pass along such a message?"

"Sorry to trouble you, Big Brother Hung, just say it like that. If it weren't for the pleasant talks I had with Director Wilson and the others, I wouldn't have wanted to come over this time at all!"

"Very well. But you had better prepare yourself mentally; you might very well face their retaliation afterward!"

"What kind of retaliation could there possibly be? They've already left me hanging for over half a month, and during that time they've repeatedly tried to replace me. Let them use whatever tricks they have!"

Both Sammo Hung and Donnie Yen fell silent. They knew Liu Qingshan's capabilities. If he were driven to extremes and resorted to some covert, shadowy form of retaliation, no one would ever be able to trace it back to him.

Although the saying went that scholars disrupt the law with their writings while martial artists break prohibitions with force, once someone reached his realm of martial prowess, there was truly nothing anyone could do if he decided to break the rules, save for simply packing up and leaving.

Liu Qingshan did not dwell on the topic any further. While the crew's props personnel were busy working, Wilson Yip and John Chong walked over toward the three of them.

"Shan Zai, your single-take sequence completely shattered our schedule, which wasn't supposed to wrap up until past eleven."

Wilson Yip's remark elicited a round of amused laughter. He was quite right; it was barely past eight o'clock, and the unexpected smoothness had left the on-site order in a state of bustling confusion.

Preparations that were supposed to be made for tomorrow had to be arranged right now, naturally plunging the set into a brief period of chaos.

However, there were no more scenes scheduled for Liu Qingshan tonight, otherwise they would have had to relocate, making it even harder to guarantee an early wrap time.

"Tell us your thoughts on the script. After months of preparation, some of the plot details have been trimmed while others were added, mainly because a lot of people felt the film's narrative was a bit weak!"

It was still Wilson Yip doing the questioning. After all, Liu Qingshan was half the screenwriter who had penned *Kung Fu*, so he possessed a clearer perception of the script's strengths and weaknesses.

Liu Qingshan, however, had no intention of offering any critiques. For one, he was still harboring some resentment; for another, being a newcomer here, saying either too much or too little would inevitably offend someone.

Thus, he merely shook his head and offered a foreign-style shrug, much like Kunal and the others often did.

Still, there were indeed major issues embedded within the script of *SPL: Sha Po Lang*. First and foremost, its story wasn't particularly captivating and could practically be summarized in just a few sentences.

Inspector Chan Kwok-chung, played by Simon Yam, was terminally ill and obsessed with bringing down the triad boss Wong Po before his retirement, even resorting to planting false evidence and framing him.

To continue caring for his adopted daughter on his behalf, his subordinates secretly took money from Wong Po, which resulted in them being hunted down and exterminated by Wong Po's assassin, Jacky.

Ma Kwun, the police officer slated to take over Chan Kwok-chung's position, engages in a duel to the death with Wong Po, and after that—nothing more. The film simply concludes after a series of brutal brawls that result in the successive deaths of several characters.

The subplots consisted merely of police officers being assassinated one by one: Ho Lok, played by Louis Koo; Wah Gor, played by Lam Ka-tung; and Sam Gor, played by Ken Lo—all of whom were systematically murdered by Jacky, played by Liu Qingshan.

Yet, judging by relevant information, Liu Qingshan also knew that the film's resounding fame upon release was equally a reality.

And that fame certainly did not stem from the film's bland and pale tone, but rather from its intensely gripping action sequences, which deservedly won it the Hong Kong Film Award for Best Action Design.

After all, the original production featured three major heavyweights of Hong Kong cinema alongside mainland martial arts star Wu Jing, which predestined the film's action scenes to be fought with real blades and solid punches, blow for blow.

Yet this exhilarating combat could not mask the hollowness of the plot.

At the same time, while the underworld camaraderie and brotherhood—the elements the film strove to highlight—were its thematic focus, they somehow fell short, lacking true depth.

As for the plot itself, it was utterly riddled with absurdities.

The police arbitrarily tampering with evidence, threatening witnesses, committing murder, hoarding stolen money, and so on—it completely shattered conventional moral values.

Even draped in the cloak of upholding justice and peerless loyalty, it remained difficult for audiences to accept law enforcement officers resorting to violence in such a manner.

Therefore, on a certain level, the viewing experience left by the film was not entirely positive.

Yet those occasional flashes of brilliance and the twist ending felt like a single drop of blood falling upon a sheet of white paper, displaying an extraordinarily bewitching red that stunned the viewer.

The first highlight borrowed the jazz-infused aesthetic of Western gangster films; although borrowed, the stylistic blending was exceptionally well-executed, and Liu Qingshan found himself quite interested in drawing inspiration from it.

The second highlight consisted of several intensely atmospheric death scenes.

In particular, Ho Lok's death scene could be called the most breathtaking sequence in the entire film.

In the darkness, a blade flashing with a cold glint was slowly raised, shifting at an angle to deliver a fatal slash to the throat. The wounded man instinctively clutched his neck with both hands, experiencing the terror and despair of imminent death—and this entire process unfolded in less than a minute.

Then there was Jacky's duel with Ma Kwun, played by Donnie Yen, in the narrow alley, culminating in his expression of disbelief and reluctance when he was impaled by his own blade, falling straight and rigid to the ground in death—a chillingly realistic recreation of a mortality scene.

The third highlight was the sheer brilliance of the supporting performances!

Lam Ka-tung's portrayal of Wah Gor in this film was commendable.

While Chan Kwok-chung talked about having brain cancer in a restaurant, Wah Gor tried to brush it off as nothing while his actions of eating spaghetti slowly began to betray his panic. After Chan Kwok-chung left, his emotional outburst of smashing a coffee cup was played with both naturalness and profound depth.

Later, when Wah Gor called his family from a public payphone in a square, intending to extend Father's Day greetings to his estranged father, hearing from his mother on the other end of the line that his father had already passed away brought forth a performance of dazed suppression that was executed to absolute perfection.

The fourth highlight was the stunning ending, which instantly elevated the film's thematic depth, transitioning from the morally bankrupt use of violence to the principle of karmic retribution.

Ma Kwun, having let down his guard, was suddenly rammed by Wong Po out through a glass wall, plunging to his death and crushing Wong Po's wife and child who were waiting in a car below.

Yet all these brilliant sparks could not conceal the overall hollowness of the story. One could hardly even call it a proper plot—it was simply kill, kill, kill.

Fortunately, its portrayal of slaughter was sharp, ruthless, full of dominance and violence, entirely devoid of hesitation, and sharply defined. The extraordinary physical prowess of the key figures in the cast was ultimately the fundamental reason why the film achieved success in both box office and action accolades.