Knowing that Timo Tjahjanto is making his leap into Hollywood, one can only hope that he doesn’t stray too far from his Indonesian action roots. The Shadow Strays is a masterclass in action cinema that, once again, reaffirms how no one can do it quite like him. The film is brimming with bloody intensity that just keeps on giving. A few blemishes in storytelling choices keeps this from being a flawless film, but it’s a near-perfect example of elevated action filmmaking. (And one of The Asian Cut’s favourites from TIFF 2024!)
The film starts off when 13 (Aurora Ribero), a skilled assassin, is tasked with rampaging through a room of presumed criminals in Japan. Her kill count piles up almost effortlessly, until a moment of empathy blindsides her defenses. This error in tactical judgment is rectified by Umbra (Hana Malasan), her mentor and mission partner, who then asks 13 to go on probation and reflect on her commitment to their ominous organization, The Shadow. During this time, her empathetic instincts continue to hold strong when she befriends a young boy, Monji, in her apartment complex, who gets entangled with the local crime syndicate. Choosing to side with Monji ends up pitting her up against The Shadow, with Umbra standing firmly on the other side.
To no one’s surprise, the action choreography in The Shadow Strays is sublime. Not only are the fight scenes unabashedly bloody, they also carry a breath of inventiveness that pushes the boundaries of the craft. Ribero should become an instant star amongst action cinephiles, who surprisingly only worked on dramatic roles prior to this. She carries herself with unflinching confidence, while also conveying moments of physical vulnerability with clear conviction. Instilling a believable sense of weakness into protagonists meant to carry a god-like mastery of their skills can be challenging, but Ribero manages to find just the right balance.
Her sparring partners throughout the film are quite numbered, with Malayan being the clear standout amongst them. The relationship between 13 and Umbra bookends the film, bringing the story to a climatic duel that is both visceral and emotionally charged. In fact, much of the film’s emotional backbone hinges on this relationship, even if 13’s affection for Monji is what initially drives the story. The problem with separating 13 and Umbra for most of the film is that the dramatic tension stemming from their conflict feels somewhat muted until the third act. For an action film as visceral as this, it’s not a significant issue and, in all fairness, still outshines most other action films when it comes to dramatic efforts. And more importantly, Tjahjanto stays in his lane, never stripping the narrative of its ballistic action identity, which just happens to elevate its genre instincts with more balanced (and emotional) storytelling.
At the same time, by separating the two until the very end, The Shadow Strays avertx the foils of having an unsubstantiated final boss, which often plagues films of this nature. As a result, there’s a true sense of finality as each punch lands, maintaining the sense of culminating fervour that Tjahjanto is so good at creating. Fajar Yuskemal’s score is also the perfect supplement to all the mayhem, synchronizing so well with the film’s riveting pace.
The Shadow Strays ends off with hints of a possible sequel, which is somewhat disappointing when we know that Tjahjanto is set further to foray into Hollywood with his next project. Just with his involvement alone, there’s already no question that Nobody 2 will likely supersede its predecessor as an action film. It’s doubtful that Tjahjanto will be able to bring the same amount of bloody tenacity to the film, but that makes The Shadow Strays all the more special. It’s a bookmarked reminder of what awaits when he returns to Indonesian cinema.
For action cinephiles, it really doesn’t get better than a film like this. Tjahjanto continues to elevate the genre, while softly refining his craft with each outing. The sequel to this monstrous opus of a film — assuming it happens — can’t come soon enough.
