Cannes 2024 review: Locust (KEFF)

“This debut shows KEFF has the directorial chops to make a career in genre film, but for something a little deeper growth as a writer is needed.”

Zhong-Han (Liu Wei Chen) is a mute dishwasher in an old-fashioned corner-store eatery in Taipei. The owner Rong (Yu An-shun) and his wife treat him like he is the son they never had, even if they can’t provide him much in terms of financial compensation. What they do not know is that Zhong-Han leads a double life as a gangster, extorting business owners as part of the outfit of the charismatic Kobe (Devin Pan). Because of his natural silence Zhong-Han is an outsider in this group, but Kobe has taken a liking to him.

Zhong-Han’s day job comes under threat when Rong’s new landlord, a slick real estate developer, tries to quadruple his rent. Despite the help of a local politician the conflict between Rong and the developer comes to a head, and Zhong-Han is caught in the middle. Now he has to choose with whom his loyalties lie: Rong or Kobe.

Locust, the feature debut of Taiwanese-American writer-director KEFF, is a film that does not aim to break new ground. All the tropes of the genre are present: the loner anti-hero, corrupt members of the bourgeoisie, a frightening gang leader, the love interest that has no idea what her boyfriend is mixed up in. This love interest comes in the form of a convenience store clerk (Rimong Ihwar) who takes pity on Zhong-Han when he is bullied by his fellow gang members, and slowly draws the introverted young man out of his shell until she too becomes part of the moral equation Zhong-Han has to solve.

Even if it ticks off all of these boxes, Locust is an enjoyable romp mainly because of its high production values (in particular Nadim Carlsen’s cinematography brings Taipei at night vividly alive) and entertaining performances from its supporting cast. Devin Pan gleefully bites into a character that goes from showing humanity to full-stop psychopath over the course of the film. The nature of his character forces Liu to remain stoic throughout, but his chemistry with Ihwar is palpable. Where the film falters is in its pacing and a series of false endings that would make Lord of the Rings blush.

KEFF tries to add a policical angle by connecting this tale of greed and corruption to the 2019 Hong Kong protests through news reports popping up on TV screens. In one of the film’s final scenes the dichotomy between Taiwanese youth supporting the protesters in Hong Kong and their own choices and actions at home is even explicitly verbalized. But the comparison falls flat because at the point in time in the protests during which the film takes place, corrupt politicians were never the target. It is a misguided, tacked-on layer to a film that is otherwise a solid, if bloated, genre film, and KEFF’s insistence on explaining why all those images of the protests were in his film in the first place is probably Locust‘s weakest moment. This debut shows he has the directorial chops to make a career in genre film, but for something a little deeper growth as a writer is needed.