Snakehead movie review & film summary (2021)

Though it has several action sequences, “Snakehead” isn’t as concerned with providing the expected kind of empty thrills. Leong is more interested in human nature and what people tell themselves to prepare for the often miserable things the underprivileged must do to eke out a tolerable existence. He also senses the chemistry between Chang and Yu and exploits it for maximum effect. It’s not a mother-daughter relationship, even though Dai Mah at one point explicitly describes it as such. This is more of an apprenticeship. The elder woman is impressed with just how hardened her trainee is, how she consistently refuses to back down. This appears to be intrinsic for Tse; Dai Mah explains she had to learn this skill the hard way.

Yu is quite memorable here, underplaying where others might have been inclined to grandstand. Her character is basically Chinatown’s Don. Everybody knows and respects her. Clearly, this didn’t come from her being a nice lady (“there’s a difference between respect and fear,” she warns Tse), but her demeanor barely hints at just how ruthless she is. When you’ve made it to this point, you don’t need to raise your voice; your reputation precedes you. Instead of fear, Yu casually displays a callous disregard, a coldness that barely rises to the surface even when she’s slitting someone’s throat. Dai Mah is a memorable villain, a perfect match to Sister Tse’s well-played antihero.

Chang and Yu are so good, they even sell a cliched scene where one says to the other “you and I are two sides of the same coin.” I can forgive those heavy-handed trespasses because I had so much fun watching this actorly battle. Their last scene together is such an on-the-nose symbolic visual that you might miss the subtle beauty of what each of them does. “Snakehead” entices you with a lurid premise, but the empathy that shines through the cracks of its tough exterior is the real surprise. 

Now playing in theaters and available on digital platforms.