‘Street Wanderers’ BAFICI Review: Chinese Mafia Networks and Violence in Argentina

‘Street Wanderers’ BAFICI Review: Chinese Mafia Networks and Violence in Argentina

A prosecutor investigates Chinese mafia networks in Argentina while a gang member falls for an exploited woman, triggering violence, threats, and a cycle of silence and fear.

A film that aligns more closely with the conventions of Asian gangster cinema than with any other genre, Street Wanderers finds Juan Martín Hsu delving into the complex, winding world of Chinese mafias in Argentina—here linked to businesses, restaurants, supermarkets, and even human trafficking networks. Drawing on an investigation set in the province of Mendoza in 2010, the director of La Salada centers the story on the prosecutor leading the case, while giving equal—if not greater—weight to some of its more unsettling peripheral characters.

Victoria Almeida plays prosecutor Diana Belenguer, who handles much of the investigation through wiretaps. Although she speaks some Mandarin, most of the conversations are in Cantonese, forcing her to rely on a Chinese officer named Lee (Chien Min Lee), who acts as translator. Their professional relationship becomes increasingly entangled with the growing number of violent threats she receives.

Running parallel to this storyline is Xu (Andrés Tan He), a member of the criminal organization who falls in love with one of the women (Yuchen Che) being sexually exploited and tries to rescue her. His personal struggle unfolds amid escalating chaos, including hitmen on motorcycles who—hidden behind their helmets—storm into businesses and shoot owners and employees over unpaid debts. But with victims unwilling to report the crimes (“It was just a robbery,” they tell the police), nothing changes. Violence persists—not only between the mafia and civilians, but also among rival gangs fighting for control.

Somewhere between the well-established codes of a genre mastered by countless Asian filmmakers and a more makeshift local logic, Street Wanderers operates as a hybrid. Hsu approaches the material with a certain playfulness, yet remains intent on shedding light—however partially—on a reality that exists in Argentina but is rarely discussed. Not all of his thematic and formal choices land: the action sequences lack the punch of their Asian counterparts, and a few romantic detours feel unnecessary. Still, it’s clear the director opts to embrace genre conventions, even at the expense of strict realism.

Straddling the line between stylistic exercise and an attempt to capture a climate of violence that leaves many small business-owning families living in fear, Street Wanderers doesn’t set out to be a denunciatory film. And yet, in its own way, it becomes one. Argentina’s criminal underworld holds countless untold stories—this is just one of them.