Taiwanese cinema has long been captivated by tales of gangsters and brutality, and “The Pig, The Snake and The Pigeon” (周處處三害) continues this tradition with a fresh narrative inspired by the ancient Chinese folklore of Zhou Chu Eradicates the Three Scourges. However, this film diverges from the typical brotherhood themes, opting instead for a darker exploration of a fugitive’s desperate quest for legacy.
While drawing clear parallels to its folkloric roots, the film takes a different moral trajectory. In the original tale, Zhou Chu, spurred by a villager, embarks on a mission to rid his town of three malevolent entities. Yet, upon realizing his own role as the third scourge, he transforms into an honorable figure. In “The Pig, The Snake and The Pigeon,” protagonist Chen Gui-lin (played by Ethan Juan) lacks such noble aspirations. Fleeing after a string of audacious assassinations, he resolves to surrender upon learning of his grandmother’s passing and his terminal illness. However, faced with his insignificance on the police’s most wanted list, he opts for a final bid for notoriety by targeting the top two criminals.
“I’m not afraid of death,” he declares. “I’m afraid of being forgotten!”
Contrary to expectations of relentless carnage, Gui-lin emerges as a surprisingly sympathetic figure amidst his shallow objectives and violent actions. His targets, Hongkie and Lin Lu-he, portrayed with chilling conviction by Ben Yuen and Chen Yi-wen respectively, accentuate Gui-lin’s flawed yet comparatively virtuous character, unwittingly delivering the populace from their tyranny.
Despite Gui-lin’s complexity, the film falls short in exploring his backstory, instead prioritizing contrived emotional moments that merely hint at his inner turmoil. However, the interactions with key characters—the pursuing detective (Lee Lee-zen), underworld doctor (Cherry Hsieh), and the girl he rescues (Gingle Wang)—inject poignant moments into the narrative, albeit underdeveloped. Ethan Juan’s portrayal masterfully straddles the line between tragic heroism and impulsive recklessness.
While the film’s absurdist touches provide respite from its brutality, some scenes veer into incredulity. Nonetheless, the incorporation of symbolism and thematic twists surrounding redemption and renewal adds layers to the storyline. “The Pig, The Snake and The Pigeon” may have its flaws, but it offers a refreshing perspective on the gangster genre, eschewing excessive action for a nuanced exploration of character and consequence.