A Touch of Sin

Three burning cigarettes are used as joss sticks by a killer in an indecorous prayer to his victims' ghosts; just one of the remarkable moments in Jia Zhangke’s stunning new film. Four violent vignettes – all taken from real life news stories – are presented with a confidence that avoids any perfunctory final scene crossovers or catharsis. Within this documentary style, momentary flourishes are deftly interspersed: the auditory jolt of a tiger’s roar; an abused woman, slapped repeatedly with a wad of banknotes, adopts the poise of a Wuxia heroine. 

Reality of China is even more surreal: backdrops of vast scarred landscapes are decorated with unfinished, disintegrating structures and a dilapidated Mao. But Zhangke is more interested in the present, where an increasingly atomised and unjust society creates an inhuman climate without outlet, forcing vicious retort. Controlled bursts of extreme violence, à la mode for the modern auteur, are in this case entirely justified. This major work is cinematic in scope but loses none of the provocative truth that defines Zhangke’s oeuvre. [Alan Bett]