提到「緬北詐騙」，人們往往會聯想到割腎、電擊、虐殺等血腥字眼，那裡宛如人間煉獄，無數人被當作待宰羔羊，命運淪落到極端的悲慘境地。然而，鮮有人知道，早在數十年前的香港，同樣曾上演過一段不輸緬北的殘酷歷史。這段血淚史後來被拍成電影《打蛇》，以幾近粗暴的鏡頭語言，將隱藏在社會陰影下的黑暗赤裸揭露。

要理解這段故事，就得回到上世紀七〇年代，那是「大逃港」的時代。彼時香港被視為「遍地黃金」的夢土，無數內地人懷揣著財富與自由的幻想，鋌而走險偷渡過境。1974年，香港當局推出所謂的「抵壘政策」：偷渡者若能成功衝破邊防，抵達市區，便能獲得合法身份；若在邊境被截獲，則會立即遣返。這樣的制度，無形中製造一場血淋淋的淘汰賽。無數人明知危險，仍前赴後繼，因為只要成功一步，就可能徹底改變命運。

這些偷渡者，被香港人稱為「人蛇」。他們沒有合法身份，宛如隱匿在社會角落的螻蟻，既渴望生存，又無力反抗。而正是這群最弱勢的「人蛇」，成為另一群人眼中的獵物。所謂「打蛇人」，便是專門捕捉人蛇的惡徒。他們手段殘忍，先是抓住這些偷渡客，再逼迫他們撥打電話向在港的親友索要贖金。若這些人蛇在香港無親無故，等待他們的便是超越死亡的酷刑：毒打、羞辱，甚至折磨至死。

電影《打蛇》便是以這段歷史為背景，直面描繪偷渡者的悲慘命運。導演牟敦芾，以一貫大膽而殘酷的風格，將故事拍得觸目驚心。他本就以極端題材聞名，曾執導過以戰爭暴行為題的《黑太陽731》，而在《打蛇》中，他同樣毫不退縮，以B級片的粗粝質感和Cult片的瘋狂氛圍，呈現出一幅慘烈卻真實的時代畫卷。

這部由邵氏出品的作品，因題材過於黑暗而備受爭議，但其存在本身，卻讓人無法忽視。它不只是電影，而是一份殘酷的見證，提醒世人：在那個動盪年代，有多少無名者在追逐夢想的途中，被人性的黑暗吞噬。這是一段不敢被遺忘的歷史，也是香港社會發展背後，隱藏最深的陰影之一。

《打蛇》上映後，在香港影壇與社會上引發強烈反響。由於影片直擊「大逃港」時代人蛇的悲慘命運，並毫不掩飾地呈現血腥、暴力和人性最醜陋的一面，它在觀眾間產生極大的震撼。許多觀眾形容，這部電影不像娛樂片，更像是一場讓人窒息的「社會審判」，逼迫人們直視香港曾經的黑暗角落。

然而，這樣的題材與風格也注定讓這部電影成為高度爭議的作品。一方面，有人讚賞導演牟敦芾的勇氣，認為他揭開社會集體失憶的一角，讓那些曾被歷史忽略的偷渡者與受害者能夠「留下痕跡」。另一方面，批評聲浪也接踵而來，不少人認為影片過於血腥、低俗，甚至是在「消費苦難」，有意用過度的殘酷畫面來博取眼球。

在市場層面上，因為掛上邵氏招牌，加上題材新穎，它確實吸引不少觀眾買票觀影。但由於內容太過沉重與殘忍，口碑極端分化：一部分人認為它是真實而深刻的歷史寓言，值得流傳；另一部分觀眾則覺得它是「難以下嚥」的作品，看完後久久不敢回味。

在學界與媒體討論中，《打蛇》也成為研究香港影史與社會史的重要案例。它不僅反映七〇年代香港社會的灰暗一面，也揭示「偷渡潮」背後的貧富差距、命運不公，以及人性在極端環境下的扭曲。多年後回望，這部電影早已超越娛樂層次，而被視為一份「時代見證」。

When people hear about “northern Myanmar scams,” what often comes to mind are horrifying images of organ harvesting, electrocution, and brutal killings — a hellish underworld where countless victims are reduced to lambs awaiting slaughter. Yet few realize that decades earlier, Hong Kong once endured a tragedy no less cruel. This dark chapter of history was later adapted into the film Snake Hunters (《打蛇》), which, with raw and almost violent imagery, exposes the shadows of a society few dared to confront.

To understand the story, we must return to the 1970s — the era of the “Great Escape to Hong Kong.” At that time, Hong Kong was regarded as a golden land of opportunity, a dreamscape where fortunes and freedom seemed within reach. Driven by this vision, countless people from mainland China risked everything to cross the border illegally. In 1974, Hong Kong authorities introduced the so-called “Touch Base Policy”: if an illegal immigrant managed to slip past border patrols and reach the city, they would be granted legal residency; but if caught at the border, they would be immediately repatriated. This rule created a brutal game of survival, a blood-soaked elimination round where thousands, aware of the dangers, pressed forward in desperation — because a single step of success could completely change their destiny.

These immigrants were called snakes by Hong Kong locals. Lacking legal identity, they were like ants hidden in the city’s cracks — desperate to live but powerless to resist. It was precisely this vulnerability that made them prey for predators known as snake hunters. These criminals captured the migrants, forcing them to call relatives in Hong Kong to demand ransom. For those without local kin, the fate awaiting them was worse than death: relentless beatings, humiliation, and sometimes torture to the point of death.

Snake Hunters takes this history as its backdrop, unflinchingly depicting the tragic fate of these illegal immigrants. Director Mou Tun-fei, infamous for his audacious and cruel style, brought the story to life with shocking intensity. Known for extreme subjects — he had earlier directed Men Behind the Sun (Black Sun 731), a harrowing account of wartime atrocities — Mou once again refused to hold back. Using the gritty aesthetics of B-movies and the manic energy of cult cinema, he painted a visceral and painfully authentic portrait of a brutal era.

Produced by Shaw Brothers, the film immediately became one of the studio’s most controversial works. Its subject matter was so dark that many saw it as more than just a film — it was a grim testimony, a reminder that in turbulent times, countless nameless dreamers were devoured by the darkness of human greed and cruelty. It represented one of the deepest shadows behind Hong Kong’s story of growth and prosperity.

Upon release, Snake Hunters provoked a storm in both the film industry and society at large. By confronting the bloody reality of the “Great Escape” era and exposing unflinchingly the violence, bloodshed, and ugliest sides of humanity, it left audiences stunned. Many viewers described it not as entertainment but as a suffocating “social trial,” forcing people to face the dark corners of Hong Kong’s past.

But such daring inevitably made the film divisive. On one side, supporters praised Mou’s courage, believing he cracked open the wall of collective amnesia, giving voice to those forgotten migrants and victims. On the other, critics condemned the work as excessively gory, vulgar, and exploitative — accusing it of sensationalizing suffering with gratuitous brutality.

At the box office, the Shaw Brothers brand and the film’s provocative premise drew strong attendance, but its reception was sharply polarized. Some saw it as a profound historical allegory worth preserving; others found it nearly unbearable, a film too disturbing to revisit.

In academic and media circles, Snake Hunters has since become a key case study in both Hong Kong cinema and social history. Beyond its shock value, it exposed the darker side of 1970s Hong Kong, illuminating the inequality, injustice, and twisted human nature bred by desperation during the migration waves. Looking back today, the film has transcended its status as mere entertainment. It stands as a historical witness, a chilling reminder of the human cost behind Hong Kong’s pursuit of prosperity.