In the narrow alley of Garibong-dong's Chinese street, on a rainy night, neon signs spread across the asphalt as men grab each other by the collar and haggle. Instead of promises to repay money, fists fly first, and in the middle of it all, a figure that is clearly not a detective pushes through like an icebreaker. This is the strongman detective Maseokdo (Ma Dong-seok) in charge of this area. If persuasion doesn't work, Maseokdo negotiates with his body instead of words. He pins people against pillars, breaks windows, all while grumbling, "I told you not to get hurt." The film 'Crime City' is, like this rough remark, a work that pushes forward with a blatantly coarse tone from start to finish. Not quietly, but with a 'thud' sound, like putting down a soju glass.
In the film, Garibong-dong is a narrow and complex ecosystem where Koreans, Chinese compatriots, Joseonjok, and various organisations live together. From the Hong Gi-cheol faction, Chairman Wang's organisation, to Chinese restaurant owners and currency exchange brokers, Maseokdo and the violent crime team leader Jeon Il-man (Choi Gwi-hwa) have barely managed this complicated game with fists and information. It is a bizarre world of balance where they share interests without crossing lines, like a carousel that turns while everyone is watching each other. When a shop owner reports, Maseokdo goes out and says, "Brother, let's stop here," shaking down the gangsters, and in return, the next time, the detective turns a blind eye to another case, operating under an unspoken rule.
The one who completely upends this balance is Jang Chen (Yoon Kye-sang). The leader of a gang that crossed over from Yanbian, China, Jang Chen knows nothing of the existing organisations' rules. From his first appearance, the feeling is different. He lounges in the back seat of a shabby van, and when a target appears, he flicks his cigarette and pulls out a knife. The motion is as indifferent as a worker heading to the office. The way he kills and disposes of bodies is blatantly brutal. He swings a hammer and knife in narrow alleys and smiles while butchering people in motel hallways at midnight. This brutality is literally a "beast that has come to devour the city," precisely an invasive species that does not acknowledge the concept of a food chain.
Jang Chen's gang systematically takes over existing gangster organisations. On the surface, they buy meals and pass around drinks, but when they turn their backs, they stab. It's like flipping a chessboard. They quickly seize profitable shops, currency exchange lines, and casino funding, unleashing unimaginable violence on local merchants. Garibong-dong is plunged into fear, and even the restaurant owners and elderly people who used to greet Maseokdo become victims. Only then does Maseokdo say, "This has crossed the line," and begins a full-scale eradication operation, but the opponent is different from any criminal he has ever encountered. It's like a player who has brought a rulebook from another game.
More of a Neighbourhood Cleanup than an Investigation
The violent crime team's investigation methods are not elegant. There is no scientific investigation like in CSI, nor deduction like Sherlock Holmes. It is almost like "sweeping the entire neighbourhood with a carpet cleaner." From morning to night, they storm into Chinese restaurants, entertainment spots, and currency exchange offices, capturing all the owners and employees. Shouts exchange through interpreters, and handcuffed suspects sit lined up in the hallway. The question, "Do you know Jang Chen?" is repeated like a song's chorus, and every time a lie is exposed, the table is flipped. Yet, the detectives cook ramen and complain, "I don't even remember who is who," showing an oddly lively investigation scene, like a neighbourhood hardware store owner catching a thief.
Meanwhile, Jang Chen's violence escalates more blatantly. Kidnappings and threats between organisations, hostage situations, and murders happening in the middle of the street. More and more blood flows onto the streets, and the police department pressures, "Wrap this case up quietly." Maseokdo and Il-man decide to overturn the game with preemptive strikes while keeping an eye on the central authorities. The chase with Jang Chen, undercover operations in karaoke rooms, hotels, saunas, and motels continue as the film races towards its climax. Ultimately, the moment Maseokdo and Jang Chen face off is condensed and bursts like the one scene the entire film has been preparing for. It is better to see for yourself how someone falls and what conclusion that fight brings to the local people. The weight of the final action is such that explaining it in words beforehand would deflate it like a flat beer.
Pushing the Basics of the Genre to the Limit
Now, let's examine the artistic strength of 'Crime City.' The film's greatest strength is that, while the story itself is not remarkably new, it has extremely well executed the basics of the genre. If you think about it, the simple structure of "a rough detective takes down a brutal external force disturbing the neighbourhood" has been around since the days of Westerns. Yet, this is built up densely without wasting a single sequence, character, or line. The running time is relatively short at 121 minutes, but within it, character introductions, world-building, tension escalation, humour, and action are tightly arranged, pulling the audience along without a moment to breathe. Like a well-made hamburger, even if the ingredients are familiar, if the assembly is perfect, it proves the truth that it is delicious.
The direction opts to trust space and bodies. The narrow alleys, stairs, kitchens, motel rooms, and karaoke hallways of Garibong-dong repeatedly appear. They are not glamorous sets, but spaces that could realistically exist. The camera moves heavily, following the characters' bodies rather than quickly whipping through the space. When Maseokdo swings his fist, the audience almost feels with their whole body where and how hard his shoulder and arm collide with the opponent's body. It is like watching a boxing match from ringside seats. The editing also does not break action into quick cuts like the 'Bourne series' style, but shows each action to the end. Therefore, both the person hitting and the person getting hit, as well as the viewers, are all out of breath.
The Birth of a New Action Hero
The character Maseokdo (Ma Dong-seok) has created a new archetype of a Korean action hero. He is not the typical image of a detective. He is neither the intelligent and cold deductive type nor the charismatic type who shoots well like Jung Woo-sung. Rather, he resembles a 'big brother' who would buy tteokbokki in the neighbourhood and smack kids on the back. More precisely, he is closer to a neighbourhood gym owner. However, the violence that emanates from this bulk creates a strange catharsis mixed with a sense of justice and everyday life. Even in the scene where he drags a criminal covered in blood, Maseokdo's face shows a human fatigue that says, "Has this guy done this again?" Like the sigh of an office worker who has passed their quitting time. Thanks to this, the violence in this film feels less like unconditional heroism and more like a weary city's self-help measure.
On the other hand, Jang Chen (Yoon Kye-sang) is a character that has firmly etched his name in the lineage of villains in Korean commercial films. He completely sheds the image of an idol-turned-actor, showing an exotic tone of voice, cruel actions, a slow demeanor, and sudden explosiveness simultaneously. When he chases with a knife, Jang Chen's face is not exaggeratedly mad but rather close to the emptiness of someone who casually stabs people. It is the expressionlessness of someone processing people as if they were parts coming off a factory line. That emptiness is even scarier. The surrounding subordinates also do not become exaggerated comic characters but move as a violent unit, causing the air to freeze every time Jang Chen's gang appears on screen.
An essential aspect of discussing this work is the exquisite combination of violence and humour. 'Crime City' deals with quite brutal violence while planting humour points throughout. Misunderstandings arising from the Chinese interpreter in the suspect interrogation room, detectives glancing at each other and chatting, and Maseokdo's attitude of eating first before catching a criminal all elicit laughter. It feels like watching a comedy show. However, that laughter does not trivialise the violence. Just as one laughs, a knife suddenly appears, and blood splatters. This sharp temperature difference is the unique rhythm of the film. It is like singing a meat restaurant song on a midsummer night and suddenly encountering a bear.
Nevertheless, the reason 'Crime City' has been particularly loved by audiences is clear. For a long time, Korean commercial films have leaned towards darker and heavier themes in the crime and noir genres. Exploring moral grey areas and depicting a dirty world has been the trend. However, this film revives the thrill of an "action movie that strangely relieves stress after watching" through rough violence, cool humour, and a simple yet powerful narrative. The laughter and cheers from the audience when Maseokdo knocks down a criminal are not merely an endorsement of violence but rather an outlet for the desire that someone should at least "land a proper hit" even in a frustrating reality. It feels like a refreshing release, akin to hitting a punching bag.
Refreshing Action Thrill: The 'Maseokdo Universe'
This is a work that anyone who loves genre films must experience at least once. It shows well what the taste of straightforward action that competes with characters, action, and rhythm is, rather than relying on flashy tricks or twists. It is also essential for those who want to confirm the starting point of Ma Dong-seok's action, the so-called 'Maseokdo Universe.' The subsequent series will expand its scale, traversing Vietnam and Japan, but the first film's Garibong-dong leaves a particularly vivid sense of presence, like the rough yet pure energy of a debut album.
On the contrary, for viewers sensitive to the violence on screen, it may be quite a challenging experience. Knives, hammers, and bare fists are rampant, and scenes of characters getting violently hurt are repeated. The R rating is certainly not just for show. Additionally, as mentioned earlier, those with a sensitive perspective on the representation of immigrants and minorities may feel discomfort. It is advisable to consider this when making a choice.
For those who often think that 'recent films are too long and complicated,' I would cautiously recommend 'Crime City.' This film does not stretch out explanations. From the beginning, it is clear who the bad guy is and who is trying to catch him. Instead, it pours all its energy into how refreshingly and vividly that simple goal is achieved. If you want to experience that straightforward energy at least once, it wouldn't be bad to run through the alleys of Garibong-dong together. When you leave the theatre, you will likely still feel the vibrations left by Maseokdo's fist somewhere in your body, like the tremor remaining in the air after hitting a large drum.