I’m a Philistine. So, I can freely admit to never having read John Milton’s *Paradise Lost*. I gather — *from sources unknown* — that its devil has all the best lines. And so, anti-heroes were born!

*City of the City *is* *a tale about family, sacrifice, ambition and mentorship in the package of a finance (*ish*) drama. It won’t be winning any awards for its fidelity to the workings of the finance industry, but that’s beside the point. In the same way that palace dramas don’t bother with the humdrum aspects of bureaucracy, its bank setting was merely the background to a story about the temptations that life in the big city provides.

Tao Wu Ji (*Bai Yu Fan*) and Tian Xiao Hui (*Xia Meng*) are booed up graduands trying to make a life together in the worst Chinese job market in decades. Wu Ji lands his dream gig. Xiao Hui does not. Luckily, her mother doesn’t just have a *hukou* for the city, she’s got connections! And so, Xiao Hui avoids neetsville. But as everyone except — *I suppose* — those dreary Nords can attest, favours are never one way. A favour given today is an IOU for tomorrow. Pretty much every third-worlder agrees with Don Corleone that repayment is an offer we can’t refuse. The weight of gratitude and millennia of tradition would permit us nothing else.

Xiao Hui and Wu Ji are part of an ensemble of young characters who’ve all got big choices to make as the episodes unfold. The young had an uncertain path but most of the older characters were already wading in murky waters. The old make decisions that move the plot along and upend the lives of the young generation. The most noteworthy trio were Zhao Hui (*Liu Bei!*), Wu Xiao Long (*Yang Gong Gong!*) and Shen Jing (*Yang Zi Shan*).

Zhao Hui is the rainmaker for Shenmao Bank. At first glance, he seems like another of *Yu He Wei*’s many straight-laced characters. He’s the widowed, loving father to a girl suffering from macular degeneration. He’s immune to bribery and honey pots. Yet he’s prideful and possessed of a certain low cunning. That edgy side of his character escapes his iron discipline after he’s passed over for a promotion that — *like Cao Cao declining the imperial seal thrice *— he had pretended not to be interested in. That and his love for his daughter bind him closer to Wu Xiao Long, his adoptive brother who’s a heavily indebted real estate developer desperate for the liquidity Zhao Hui controls.

The little dragon is a devil perched on Zhao Hui’s shoulders negging him into embracing his worst impulses. But their dynamic is fascinating! I remain uncertain if their relationship was mutually exploitative or — *in its own way* — loving. Alas, a prequel shall never be.

The strong female character is an archetype that always risks flying too close to the sun — with the usual consequences. There is a temptation to give them special powers and render them uninteresting, make them preachy and thus annoying or glam them up into femme fatales and get cancelled. Although Maggie Q’s Nikita will never die! But. . . I digress.
Shen Jing is the best type of the SFC — she just does her job! If you’ve seen Olivia Colman in *The Night Manager* or *The Crown,* then you know the type. You wouldn’t spare her a second glance in the street, but an interaction at close quarters would be enough to enlighten you that you’re dealing with someone competent. Shen Jing is that sort, and she commands all her scenes.

I enjoyed this drama up to a point. More accurately, I was satisfied so long as the *villains* were winning. I was bored stiff once the pendulum swung back the other way. The heroes were bland and had no achievements but snitching. A society of slightly shady investment bankers can thrive; one packed to the brim with self-righteous auditors will stagnate. I kept yelling at the screen for Zhao Hui to move to Singapore before it was too late. Alas!

All in all, the story was pretty standard fare — neither yay nor meh. The production values were high, and I wasn’t bored.
Onwards to 2025!