The Conman (1998)

The Conman is the kind of Hong Kong crowd-pleaser Wong Jing used to toss off with shameless confidence: a brisk, boisterous cocktail of gambling swagger, streetwise comedy, and sudden bursts of danger that keep you leaning in. Andy Lau makes King more than a slick operator—there’s a wounded decency under the bravado, and the film lets his charm carry both the laughs and the bruises, while Nick Cheung brings lively, lovable chaos as the idolizing partner who turns every scheme into a buddy act. The vibe is loud, twisty, and proudly pulpy, hopping from horse-racing hustles to casino showdowns with the giddy momentum of a backroom story being told by someone who can’t wait for the punchline. It’s not for viewers seeking realism or a gentle tone—the violence can land hard—but if you want fast-moving action-comedy with big personalities and even bigger cons, it’s an easy bet.

The Conman is trying to mash up slick gambling hijinks, romantic melodrama, and revenge-fueled action in that anything-goes Wong Jing style, with Andy Lau doing his best to keep it charismatic and watchable. The problem is it’s a loud, messy cocktail: the tone swings from goofy scams to sudden brutality, and the plot piles on twists until it starts feeling more exhausting than exciting. If you’re expecting tight action-comedy pacing or clever con-game logic, you may find it sloppy and oddly mean-spirited in spots, especially with the casino violence. Still, if you like late-90s Hong Kong gambling capers, enjoy broad antics, and can roll with soap-opera emotions and chaotic plotting, there’s enough star power and oddball energy to make it a passable time.