Love between a good girl and a bad boy might be a dramatic trope, but in Ocean Flame screenwriter-turned-director Liu Fendou offers a spiced-up version of the generic tale: He reverts to the black humour and cutting-edge narrative of his award-winning debut, Green Hat. Adapted from Wang Shuo’s novel Yi Ban Shi Hu Yan, Yi Ban Shi Hai Shui, the story revolves around the tortured love between a pimp, Wang Yao (Liao Fan), and an innocent barmaid, Lichuan (Monica Mok). The film opens with Wang heading to Lichuan’s family with a revolver after an eight-year imprisonment. This triggers a flashback to the couple’s initial romantic encounter, which spiralled into mutual physical and mental abuse when Wang trapped Lichuan in his prostitute and blackmail business.

The film successfully drags viewers through an emotional mill with the vivid depiction of its characters, especially Wang. This abusive leader of a pimp gang is a misogynist who treats women as mere tools for sex and business. Ironically, his pursuit of domination leaves him emotionally vulnerable, and he becomes caged and frustrated when captivated by Lichuan, who always refuses to conform to his control. First appearing as masculine and villainous, Wang eventually becomes the most fragile character in the story. Cowardly, he cannot admit his loneliness and love for Lichuan until her death: He can only express himself through violence and self-destruction, which makes him one of the victims in this tragedy.

Lichuan, the stubborn innocent, is supposed to be the most tragic figure in the film. After being trapped and tortured by Wang, she pays with her life, but her transition to hysteria is too briefly described, making her a less sympathetic character than Wang or even the supporting character Zheng Zhong (Hai Yitian). The young Monica Mok excellently grasps Lichuan’s emotional fluctuations, but a more convincing ending would require a finer portrayal of Lichuan’s change after trauma.
The director uses an edgy and daring approach to Wang Shuo’s story (this is the third adaptation of the novel). As a Chinese film, the sex, nudity and violence could raise a few eyebrows, but such bravado is necessary and effective for evoking sympathy for the protagonists. Ocean Flame is also aesthetically pleasing: One cannot forget the scene when Lichuan dies, filling the basin with her blood, for both its thrilling and aesthetic effects. Liu has boldly broken with tradition and made a hugely progressive move for Chinese film – as confirmed by Ocean Flame’s appearances in Cannes and Toronto film festivals.

Kennis Lai