Sleeping Dogs
Winston Chu has a bulging, tattooed body, a gold-plated gun and a massive square head. He’s a gangster, so that face is locked into a permanent scowl, a symptom of years of steroid abuse and a childhood under the fist of a psychotic mother with an unhealthy love of cleavers.
Welcome to life in the triads.
Mrs Chu is your mother, too, in a sense. You’re Wei Shen, undercover cop, on a mission to bring down the triads from the inside. The trouble is, once you’re initiated, you’re family. Another brother in a grotesque gang of crooks and killers. You’ll spend most of your time in this richly realised, open-world Hong Kong performing missions for thugs, the better to get close to the sharp suits who run the show.
It’s a good enough excuse to step into the slippers of every Hong Kong action movie hero of the last 30 years. There are shadows of Bruce Lee in Wei’s fighting style as he fends off knife attacks in alleys. In gun fights he channels Chow Yun Fat, vaulting over tables and hosing down enemies in slow motion. On rooftops, he trades on Tony Leung’s ability to look cool in a suit by putting on shades and standing still in front of sunsets. Sleeping Dogs occasionally delivers these moments with more style than any other member of the Mafia/GTA family, but they’re folded into a humourless and predictable tale set in a Hong Kong that often feels like a beautiful backdrop rather than a bustling, interactive city.
Welcome to life in the triads.
Mrs Chu is your mother, too, in a sense. You’re Wei Shen, undercover cop, on a mission to bring down the triads from the inside. The trouble is, once you’re initiated, you’re family. Another brother in a grotesque gang of crooks and killers. You’ll spend most of your time in this richly realised, open-world Hong Kong performing missions for thugs, the better to get close to the sharp suits who run the show.
It’s a good enough excuse to step into the slippers of every Hong Kong action movie hero of the last 30 years. There are shadows of Bruce Lee in Wei’s fighting style as he fends off knife attacks in alleys. In gun fights he channels Chow Yun Fat, vaulting over tables and hosing down enemies in slow motion. On rooftops, he trades on Tony Leung’s ability to look cool in a suit by putting on shades and standing still in front of sunsets. Sleeping Dogs occasionally delivers these moments with more style than any other member of the Mafia/GTA family, but they’re folded into a humourless and predictable tale set in a Hong Kong that often feels like a beautiful backdrop rather than a bustling, interactive city.