But behind the facade, there is a blitzkrieg of forces pushing the young people past their breaking point. They take solace in anonymous sex and gleeful drug use, which they hope will fill the void left by the lackluster (and sometimes overtly violent) techniques used by their parents to keep them in line. And it is the breaking of that facade which forms the nucleus of Lawrence Lau's gritty drama.

Chinese, and particularly Hong Kong, culture seems to be concerned with youth and the corruption thereof, and this has been addressed many times during its' history in the realms of its' filmic output. Most notably, the 1967 film Story of a Discharged Prisoner provided a template for many "troubled youth" films to follow, coming to fruition with John Woo's classic A Better Tomorrow, which took a decidedly over-the-top approach in addressing the ills of society and how they affected the young.

Woo's contemporary, Ringo Lam, gave his own take with School on Fire, whose stark and jarring mise-en-scene stood out in great contrast to Woo's more heroically stylized characters. In the mid-1990's, Andrew Lau's ultra-popular Young and Dangerous series of "goo wak jai" (young gangster) movies became a mainstay of Hong Kong pop culture and influenced many Westerners as to how they thought of the gang culture in Hong Kong.

Besieged City strikes a medium between all of these influences and past efforts. It throws in the visual style of Woo and Lau's pictures, adds in the grittiness of Lam's movies, and then stirs in a bit of the 60's "social problems" films for good measure.

The individual parts that Besieged City is made up aren't all that strong. It does seem awfully contrived and melodramatic at times. But when Lau manages to mix all the parts together successfully via the very strong performances of the lead actors, it adds up to one of the better dramas produced in Hong Kong over the past few years.

Played out partly in flashback, good student and caretaker of his sick mom, Ling (Tang Tak-Po) learns that his younger brother Jun (Wong Hau-Yun) is suspected of homicide and is in a coma. Gangs go after Ling as Jun has apparently in his possession drugs they want back. But as the past events play out, the apparent truth gets shaken about a bit...

Lawrence Lau is not kidding when he paints the bleak, gray, dark world of Tin Shui Wai and it's literally that we associate with the images as shot as well. Learning of Ling's daily life, it seems he has shut out the world, treating each death he sees as yet another and all that matters is for him to further his education. Fine, that's a light rarely present in the film but the reality is that Ling has been shutting out the world to the point where his brother has become a victim of it. Being bullied at home and school, Jun of course hooks up with the wrong crowd that can give him some sort of leverage in this world. But of course, it's part of a constant downwards spiral consisting of witnessing (and occasionally) taking part in crimes, drug abuse and rapes. As this is all hurled at us, you wonder what Lau's true storytelling purpose is because there must be some kind of theme and depth present other than the fact that he's saying Tin Shui Wai pretty much sucks?

It's certainly about the central relationship between Ling and Jun as we do hope for them to connect strengths and perhaps beat this world, about a sense of belonging that doesn't include loyalty in actuality but within these merely fairly powerful images, Lau acknowledges only. As for himself, he takes a step back even to reveal that he can't go for the jugular yet again when presenting his concerns the hard way. Introducing a baby at points and a sister relationship, with both being subjected to incest, dramatic intentions go flat when Lau can't even immerse his young, mostly new cast to good effect. Indeed, we just know now that Tin Shui Wai sucks. If it's a fair assumption, I can't say but cinematically, that is all that is said. Coming from Lawrence Lau, I expected more.