Film Review: The Raid 2: Berandal
Dir. Gareth Evans
One of the unexpected side benefits to the strict gun-control laws in Indonesia is the creative ways in which action films there must portray their hyper-violence. You don’t get the heavy artillery scenes of American shoot-em-ups, instead you have martial arts masters wielding everything from crescent blades to twin hammers, whaling away at one another in balletic fashion.
And never more resplendently than in Gareth Evans’ follow-up to his much-heralded The Raid: Redemption, a film with a simple premise — a group of Jakarta special tactics police invade the high-rise stronghold of a drug baron and, over the course of two bloody hours, fight their way to the top floor — with unexpectedly vibrant style and verve (and a star-making turn by the young Iko Uwais), and a rash of memorable, if non-traditional villains, including the pint-sized but utterly ferocious Yayan Ruhian.
The new film is as complex and far-reaching as the first one was simple and brutal. Evans, who wrote, directed and edited both films, has seen fit to expand his film to include several meaty themes amidst the incredibly well-paced carnage. He has taken many of the characters of the original and placed them in a much larger and more connected world of crime, savagery and betrayal.
A short while after the events of the first film, we find young Rama (Uwais) in an even deeper bind than before: In order to protect his wife and child, he is forced to go deep undercover to infiltrate the crime network of Bangun (Tio Pakusodewo) by becoming close to Bangun’s hot-headed son, Uco (Arifin Putra), who, naturally, is in prison. Rama gets arrested and sent down to Uco’s prison, helping the smooth gangster survive a chaotic assassination attempt. Once out, several years later, he gets taken in by Bangun, only to see the flammable relationship between the capo and his son go from bad to worse, which draws the attention of Bejo (Alex Abbad), a half-Arab operator from a rival faction, looking to rise up the ranks with the impressionable Uco’s support. Naturally, all hell eventually breaks loose, and Rama is left to his own devices, fending off different rivals and the internal strife of the Bangun clan.
Working with gifted DPs Matt Flannery and Dimas Imam Subhono, Evans’ film has the look and feel of a classic drama. The film opens with a static long shot of the countryside outside of Jakarta, the lush green fields shimmering under a menacing and overcast sky. As the eye follows the narrow patchwork of dirt roads that criss-cross the land, you finally land on a squared-out grave, freshly dug by a group of Indonesian cartel thugs. Cars eventually pull up before the mound of dirt, and it is only then that Evans’ camera gets close up with its subjects.
It’s a trick that Evans repeatedly uses to maximum effect. The film is dense and convoluted, but his action sequences — some of which are absolutely stunning in their elegant viciousness — are paced with precise deliberateness. Before the film’s first major fighting sequence, begun in a small prison toilet stall no less, Evans lets the scene build in intensity and drama, slowing down the film’s pulse even as it threatens to go into cardiac arrhythmia. He focuses his lens on the pounding on the stall door, the screws loosening under the barrage, and Rama’s growing fury, before finally letting the door explode in under a cavalcade of bodies and letting Rama run roughshod over them. In a later scene, mostly shot inside a cavernous bar — where Ruhian’s diminutive Prakoso must fight his way out of a massive ambush — we suddenly switch tableaus to a narrow alleyway outside the bar, covered in a peaceful spread of virginal, white snow. The shot holds for a long beat or two, just to the point where you begin to wonder what it is you’re seeing, before the back door suddenly swings open and Prakoso, bloodied, badly wounded and still under pursuit, emerges, stumbling into the once peaceful setting.
Evans is also smart enough to realize how important it is to have noteworthy villains for Rama to have to face. An entire extended sequence of the film is devoted to showing a trio of assassins (a deaf girl deadly with the aforementioned hammers and her brother, equally as efficient with an aluminum baseball bat and another master martial artist), hard at their craft, such that when Rama finally confronts them, the stakes have been raised considerably.
That the film also displays admirable thematic linkage through the course of its superior battle sequences is also an unexpected glory. It’s littered with fathers having to make very difficult decisions in order to protect their families, from Rama’s young son whom he doesn’t get to see for years at a time to Prakoso’s ex-wife keeping him away from their child because of her shame at his choice of employment, to Bangun’s difficult relationship with Eco, a situation that powers the film’s breathless action climax.
It is not without fault. As good as it often is, and with a surprising dedication to its more expository scenes, the film still feels too long by at least half an hour. You can appreciate Evans’ desire to get everything he can up on the screen, from fantastical fighting sequences, to wrenching emotional moments between Rama and his wife, but it still would work better slimmed down ever so slightly. But this is essentially a minor quibble for an epic action flick such as this. After all, the nature of the action genre is indulgence, and it’s safe to say, with this fantastically satisfying film, Evans earns our lenience.