Who Killed Cock Robin (2017)

Who Killed Cock Robin pulls you in with the kind of sleek, rain-slick noir atmosphere you can almost feel on your skin, turning a cold case into a moral maze where every new clue seems to cast a longer shadow. Director Cheng Wei-hao gives the investigation a striking visual elegance, letting mood and tension do as much storytelling as dialogue while the film tightens its grip around an increasingly urgent search. It’s the rare thriller that makes the act of digging for truth feel dangerous—not just because of what might happen next, but because of what the truth might reveal about a compromised system. Fair warning: it’s grim and occasionally graphic, with heavy substance use and unsettling implications, but if you like your mysteries stylish, twisty, and headed toward a landing that actually sticks, this one is easy to recommend.

Who Killed Cock Robin wants to be a sleek, socially angry mystery where one journalist’s obsession peels back layers of corruption, and on a moment-to-moment level it often looks and sounds like it’s delivering exactly that. The problem is the plot keeps piling on twists, coincidences, and backtracking perspectives until the “intricate” starts to feel contrived, and the pacing can drag when you’re waiting for the story to finally click into place. If you like dense, messy conspiracies and don’t mind plausibility taking a back seat to mood and shock, you’ll probably stay engaged. If you want a tight, satisfying whodunit or a thriller that plays fair, this one may leave you more exhausted than impressed, despite its strong style and committed performances.