Furies (2022)

My quick rating – 6.1/10. Sometimes posters set you up for one kind of movie, only for the film to head in a completely different direction. Furies looks like it might be a Vietnamese spin on Charlie’s Angels, but once the opening unfolds with a brutal assault and the murder of a mother, it’s clear this is not a playful spy romp. This is a revenge-driven action flick with trauma and blood at its core. And as it turns out, it’s also a prequel to Furie from 2019, though, confusingly enough to me, the actual connections between the two movies are tenuous at best. Check back tomorrow for my review of that one.

The story follows Bi (Dong Anh Quynh), a young woman hardened by tragedy and drawn into a world where women band together to fight back against the oppressive, male-dominated underworld that destroyed their lives. She’s recruited by Jacqueline (Veronica Ngo), a survivor herself who has taken it upon herself to mold other damaged girls into weapons of vengeance. The formula is familiar—you’ve got the obligatory pop-song makeover montage, followed by intensive training sequences—but it works, giving Bi her entry point into the world of fists, blades, and vengeance.

Bi isn’t alone. She’s paired up with Thanh (Toc Tien) and Hai (Thuan Nguyen), two allies with scars of their own, who set their sights on dismantling the “Big 4.” These villains are stock crime-lord archetypes who each run their own illicit empire, but they’re unified by one thing: their vile treatment of women. The narrative doesn’t linger on melodrama for long; instead, it plunges into rapid-fire action.

The fight choreography is one of the movie’s biggest strengths. It’s fast, stylish, and occasionally exaggerated in a way that feels ripped from a video game. The motorcycle brawl is a prime example, silly enough to draw a smirk, but executed with such over-the-top flair that it works perfectly in context. A later gun-kata showdown blends CGI splatter with practical effects in a way that’s slick without crossing into cartoonish territory. What’s refreshing is that the heroines aren’t presented as invincible superheroes; they take their hits, they bleed, and they feel vulnerable, even while cutting down waves of opponents.

Of course, the movie leans on some familiar tropes. One of the villains gets romantically entangled with a heroine, injecting predictable tension into the mission. And by the end, a sharp twist underscores that in this world, everything—revenge, loyalty, survival—still circles back to money.

As a standalone, Furies delivers the goods: kinetic fight scenes, gritty atmosphere, and an empowering, if sometimes grim, throughline about women striking back. As a prequel to Furie, though, it’s a bit of a head-scratcher. The connections between the two films are so loose they feel almost non-existent, leaving you wondering if character names or roles were swapped around behind the scenes. Still, if you’re looking for a stylish, hard-hitting slice of Vietnamese action cinema, Furies doesn’t waste your time; it dives straight into the carnage and lets its fists do the talking.

I saw a big Netflix logo at the start so that is where you’ll find it.