This story contains spoilers for HBO's Warrior.
Few scenes linger in the mind quite like the closing minutes of Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York. Two enemies, marked with blood, face off against a backdrop of destruction and chaos; behind them, Civil War riots rip through the streets of New York, making the violent turf war between two rival immigrant communities seem suddenly small in the face of a fractured America. This scene presents the crumbling of our national identity and presents as an awe-inspiring work of historical filmmaking.
And if you liked that, you’ll love Season 3 of Warrior.
In the first three episodes of Season 3, Warrior promises that its violence will spill out from the streets and into the boardroom. This new chapter grapples with the stakes of the American Industrial Revolution and proves what we already know: no matter who wins the battle for Chinatown, the Chinese and Irish are doomed to fight over the scraps that the wealthy titans of industry scatter across the city. Warrior may be a show about honor and family, but money will always shape the future of San Francisco better than a blade.
History and Bloodshed
From the opening minutes of its first episode, Warrior has positioned itself as a grand battle between two rival armies for the beating heart of Chinatown. Based on a story treatment by Bruce Lee and produced by action filmmaker extraordinaire Justin Lin (Better Luck Tomorrow, Fast & Furious), Warrior wove itself through a series of historical events that shaped the role of Chinese immigrants in America. With Andrew Koji’s Ah Sahm as our reluctant hero, we are treated to the San Francisco riot and the storm clouds Chinese Exclusion Act - not to mention a deluge of martial arts fight sequences that would make Lee himself proud.
It is the 1870s, and the growth of San Francisco is undercut by a bloody war between two rival tongs. On the one side sits the impetuous Young Jun (Jason Tobin), the bastard heir to the Hop Wei empire; on the other side sits Mai Ling (Dianne Doann), the ruthless leader of the Long Zii who will sacrifice everything in the name of victory. Caught between these two are Ah Sahm and Li Yong (Joe Taslim), the tong lieutenants and bitter rivals whose Season 1 would-be deathmatch left unfinished business between man and army alike. And for two seasons, Ah Sahm and Mai Ling have struggled to reconcile their own secret - they are estranged brother and sister - with the demands of being a leader in rival tongs.
But the bloodshed between the Hop Wei and the Long Zii is one skirmish in a multifront war for the future of San Francisco. Warrior may be rooted in the immigrant experience, but that immigrant experience also belongs to the Irish, who follow the lead of Dylan Leary (Dean Jagger) and commit acts of terror to keep Chinese labor out of the work sites. The show also offers an unflinching look at the San Francisco police department through the lens of Bill O’Hara (Kieran Brew), a fellow Irish immigrant whose only real job is to protect property and keep the killing to a minimum.
(B)eat the Rich
For two seasons, Warrior has been a master class in action. The previous season of Warrior achieved almost breathtaking displays of onscreen violence; as the Hop Wei and the Long Zii clashed, the Irish used this divide to wage their own war against Chinese labor to drive workers from their shores. The penultimate episode saw Ah Sahm ascend to his full folk legend glory, warding off a group of white rioters in a moment that becomes immortalized on the brick of a Chinatown storefront. For those who watch Warrior mostly for stunt coordinator Brett Chan’s fight choreography, it is the show that keeps on giving.
But hidden beneath this layer of bloodshed were more systemic conflicts, ones that threatened to close the gates between Chinatown and the outside world forever. Ah Toy (Olivia Cheng), part-time madame and full-time assassin, spent most of Season 2 trying to use her connections to buy land outside of San Francisco to no avail. Warrior has always reserved its true threat to the background: the wealthy San Francisco magnates who offer charity or political pressure in service of their immediate desires. Despite these men’s influence, we have never seen one step directly into the spotlight.
Even the cultural elite of the first two seasons - men like Byron Mercer (Graham Hopkins), whose alliances of marriage and metal help shape the city - only appear to be middle-men in the grand battle. And so, when we meet Adam Rayner’s Douglas Strickland III in the second episode, we are confronting real power for the first time in the show’s brief history. In these opening episodes, we see Strickland wield the laws of eminent domain like a weapon and launch a violent attack on those who would stand in his way. This is a kind of power that Chinatown leaders like Mai Ling and Ah Toy can recognize - even if they may never achieve that on their own.
A Warrior’s (Manifest) Destiny
So there is a new danger in Season 3 for men like Ah Sahm: not a knife in the back or a club to the head, but the kind of resources that can reshape elections, rewrite laws, and reshape the very geographical boundaries of our nation. And as the season unfolds, the demands of Douglas Strickland will trickle down to the streets of Chinatown. It will motivate acts of brutality issued by a desperate interim mayor looking for a political edge; it will also force bitter enemies into uncertain allies as resources run scarce. And it will do with the total weight and blessing that the (re)United States of America has to offer.
And that makes this season something of a departure - a transition to an uncertain future for Chinatown that mirrors the uncertain future for Warrior itself. Much like those closing minutes of Gangs of New York, the San Francisco of the series teeters on edge, with the threat of the Chinese Exclusion Act looming and characters stoking the fires of xenophobia with visions of political and financial power. But now Warrior gives a face to its long-simmering class warfare, a villain representing the true ruling class of 19th Century America.
No matter which tong ultimately reigns supreme in Chinatown — the Hop Wei or the Long Zii — men like Strickland pose the real threat to the success of the district and its residents. So even as the tongs and the Irish bleed for working-class sovereignty, San Francisco seems poised to close like a fist around those that aspire to anything close to the American dream. It may seem dramatic to suggest that Warrior, a show that has danced with death as often as Ah Sahm himself, may be entering its endgame, but no wars last forever. The dangers of industry loom large over everyone - Chinese and Irish alike. At least we know the final battles will be ones for the ages.
source https://www.ign.com/articles/warrior-season-3-reveals-the-true-nature-of-power