The Reality Hidden Under the Facade

　　Six years after his second feature, the minimalist-mannerist drama Night Train, Mainland writer-director Diao Yi\'nan strikes out in a more rewarding direction with his third feature, Black Coal, Thin Ice, an atmospheric serial-killer mystery that\'s part genre spin and part stylised psychodrama. As bodyparts turn up throughout Heilongjiang province - five years after a horrific similar murder - the movie pairs a psychologically damaged former detective with a young woman who may or may not be a Black Widow serial killer. As the ex-cop becomes obsessed with her, the truth is far more complicated than it seems.

　　Largely set during a typically bone-freezing winter in China\'s northeast - captured with great veracity by Diao\'s regular director of photography Dong Jinsong - it\'s a mixture of impressive moments and auteurist flourishes that doesn\'t always realise its potential. The whodunit is a challenging genre, with rules that can be broken only by very skilled writers and a director who respects and understands the genre. The films\' plot is classic noir material - here played out in an average, shabby coal-mining town - but with its episodic construction and sometimes confusing plot gaps the script doesn\'t build create enough psychological drama to carry the viewer through the story\'s twists and turns.

　　Despite that, performances by the largely Mainland cast are good. In a relatively rare leading role, Liao Fan (the ex-con in Ocean Flame, the impoverished boyfriend in Love on Credit) is engaging as the gruff, burned-out ex-cop who sees a chance to redeem himself professionally and emotionally via the case. And supporting roles - especially Yu Ailei as his detective friend and Wang Jingchun as a shifty laundry owner - all have an authentic ring as tough, taciturn northeasterners. Wang Xuebing (the spymaster in The Silent War) pops up in the later stages in a smallish role.

　　As the woman who is the key to the whole mystery, Taiwanese actress Gwei Lun-mei(Parking, The Stool Pigeon, Gf*Bf) never seems rooted in the setting in the way the other actors do: though she largely suppresses her Taiwan accent, her soulful, serene beauty looks out of place in the grim urban landscape and she gets little dialogue, until the latter stages, to develop her role.