Double Tap (Taiwan Version) DVD Region All

Leslie Cheung plays a stifled gunsmith, content to sit on the range and shoot targets, his best gal, Ruby Wong, reloading clips and helping him file down firing pins. His skill and silence make him a target for the hostility of a gang of cops (including Alex Fong) who egg him into competition. There, a cop who has lost his money on the stock market pulls his gun and starts shooting spectators in a bid to be gunned down so his family will collect on his insurance policy. Everyone's reluctant to shoot, except Leslie who kills the sad fellow with two shots to the head. After the first time, the emotional floodgates are opened and it gets easier and easier for him to kill.

The shameless addiction of gun culture prised open and exposed to light, its toxic stink wafting off the screen like chloroform. Driven crazy by the look, the sight, the smell of guns, Leslie Cheung is a man for whom the soft smack of a bullet chopping meat is the sweet sound of success. In the middle of the movie comes a scene that would play in most movies as a rousing action setpiece. Here it unfolds with all the excitement and high drama of a sniper picking off a kindergarten class - an adrenaline rush that leaves you shaking and sick.

The emotional heart of the movie is the interplay between Leslie Cheung and Ruby Wong. Leslie's pained introversion and Ruby's commitment to him is Rain Man touching. Leslie is revolted by emotional engagement and that's what keeps him fighting the growing urge he feels to shoot a person: he's not worried that it's wrong, he's scared of how it (or anything) might feel. The small space in his life he's carved out for Ruby Wong, and her happiness to be there, is the delicate detente that two emotionally battered people can sometimes negotiate. They've agreed to provide each other with something lacking, settling for contentment instead of passion because passion can be dangerous. Ruby Wong seems happy with Leslie's predictability and steadiness, his lack of large loud emotions. Leslie seems happy with his sterile life with Ruby Wong, providing the one human relationship he needs. But still there's the relentless call of the guns, guns, guns...

To watch the quiet regulated world that Ruby and Leslie have so carefully carved out for themselves collapse under the weight of Leslie's gun addiction is like watching an alcoholic break up a family. The new Leslie is an emotional creature to a fault: he screams and cries, he loves his girlfriend and slaughters dozens of people for her, he goes through manic highs and depressive lows. He's drunk on guns. Ruby sticks with him not because she's having fun but because she feels responsible; she's the only person on earth who can't judge him.

While the movie does occasionally trade in excess, isn't this the heart of all Derek Yee films? Someone who has left the turmoil of the world behind himself being forced back into it either by circumstance (People's Hero, Viva Erotica) or compulsion (Full Throttle). And when Yee makes a comedy, the results can be gentle and amusing (Viva Erotica, The Truth About Jane and Sam). When it's a tragedy, the results are devastating.

by Grady Hendrix