Title: The Last Brother (1990): Stephen Chow’s Subversive Swan Song to Hong Kong’s Gangster Golden Age
In the pantheon of Stephen Chow’s filmography, The Last Brother (江湖最後一個大佬) stands as a provocative anomaly—a gritty, melancholic gangster drama that dismantles the mythos of triad heroism while foreshadowing Chow’s comedic genius. Released in 1990 during the twilight of Hong Kong’s heroic bloodshed era, this film is less a celebration of brotherhood than a eulogy for an obsolete code of honor. Here’s why it’s a must-watch for cinephiles seeking depth beneath the bullet-riddled bravado.
- Chow Against Type: The Anti-John Woo Protagonist
Forget Chow’s later slapstick personas. Here, he plays Wah Dee, the reluctant son of a retired triad patriarch (veteran actor Ng Man-Tat) dragged into a bloody feud with younger, nihilistic gangs. Wah Dee isn’t a charismatic killer or a clown—he’s a disillusioned everyman trapped between filial duty and moral exhaustion. Chow’s performance is startlingly restrained, his humor laced with bitterness. In one scene, he mocks his father’s outdated triad rituals by sarcastically burning fake “hell money” during a negotiation—a meta-jab at the genre’s glorified violence. This role, rare in Chow’s career, reveals his dramatic range and disdain for macho tropes.
- Hong Kong’s Identity Crisis: From Brotherhood to Betrayal
Set against the backdrop of pre-1997 anxiety, The Last Brother mirrors Hong Kong’s fractured identity. The older triads cling to Confucian codes of loyalty, while the new generation—embodied by a sneering, leather-clad villain (a pre-fame Elvis Tsui)—embraces Western-style ruthlessness and greed. Director Alex Cheung (a pioneer of Hong Kong New Wave) frames shootouts in neon-lit alleys littered with British colonial signage, visually contrasting tradition and decay. The film’s climax, where Wah Dee’s father dies defending a tea house against rocket launcher-wielding thugs, becomes a metaphor for Hong Kong’s futile resistance to modernization.
- Deconstructing Machismo: Triad Culture as Tragic Farce
Unlike A Better Tomorrow’s romanticized heroes, The Last Brother exposes triad culture’s toxic absurdity. Ritualistic tea ceremonies devolve into petty squabbles over mahjong debts. Chow’s character, forced to “prove his worth” by stabbing his own thigh, responds with a deadpan, “Will Medicare cover this?”—a line that skewers blind adherence to masculine posturing. Even the film’s lone female character, a nightclub singer (Sharla Cheung), mocks the men’s bravado: “You call this brotherhood? It’s just a bunch of losers playing dress-up.”
- Chow’s Proto-Comedic Flourishes: Absurdity as Survival
While not a comedy, the film seeds Chow’s later “mo lei tau” style through surreal juxtapositions. A tense standoff is interrupted by a street vendor selling fish balls; a funeral procession morphs into a chaotic karaoke session. These moments aren’t mere gags but existential relief valves—a coping mechanism for characters (and a society) teetering on collapse. Watch Wah Dee’s delirious laugh after surviving an assassination attempt; it’s less triumph than nihilistic surrender, foreshadowing the manic despair of Chow’s King of Comedy.
- Why It Resonates Now: Nostalgia for a World That Never Was
In today’s global rise of authoritarianism and eroded social contracts, The Last Brother’s themes feel eerily relevant. Its critique of blind loyalty to outdated systems parallels modern disillusionment with political institutions. For Western audiences raised on The Sopranos or Peaky Blinders, the film offers a Cantonese twist on the “end of an era” trope—less romantic, more brutally introspective. The final shot, of Wah Dee burning his father’s triad relics beside Hong Kong’s harbor, whispers a universal truth: progress demands graves, but we mourn the ghosts anyway.
Final Pitch:
-The Last Brother* isn’t just a gangster film—it’s a requiem for Hong Kong’s cinematic and cultural identity, delivered through Stephen Chow’s most uncharacteristic performance. Watch it for the bullet-ridden poetry, stay for the quiet moments where honor crumbles into dust. This is Chow unchained, raw, and utterly essential.
-Where to watch: Available on niche platforms like AsianCrush or via curated Hong Kong cinema Blu-ray collections.*
Why This Take Stands Out:
Most analyses dismiss The Last Brother as a “forgotten Chow drama,” but this review frames it as a socio-political autopsy of Hong Kong’s gangster genre and a key to understanding Chow’s artistic evolution. By focusing on its deconstruction of masculinity, colonial subtext, and proto-absurdist humor, it offers fresh angles absent from mainstream discourse.