Zhang Yimou's A WOMAN A GUN AND A NOODLE SHOP

My review for A Woman, a Gun and a Noodle Shop is now up on In Review Online.

Although I really hate to say it, this film is a mess. I saw A Woman, a Gun and a Noodle Shop before I headed off to Vancouver, and the more I think about it (and compare it to some of the amazing films I've seen in the past couple of weeks) the more I'm convinced that this crazy idea to remake Blood Simple into a Chinese period piece is just that: crazy. The unfortunate component to slamming this film is that Zhang is no slouch and has brought a well crafted film to the table.

(This poster speaks louder than words. Even when I look at it, I wonder "What is going on!?" If it seems like it has a Stephen Chow/Chinese Odyssey element to it, that is not far off the mark.) Read here.

VIFF: Day 11

Winter Vacation (2010)
Li Hongqi
China

Li Hongqi, be still my heart! Winter Vacation is something of a perfect mixture of Chinese specificity and avant-garde bravado. An incredibly austere set piece, Winter Vacation doesn't concern itself too much about drama or reality but instead builds a laconic daydream filled with irony and surrealism. Both adolescents and adults seem to be stuck in aimless stagnancy in a small town in northern China over winter break. Normally this vacation, which coincides with the Spring Festival (aka Chinese New Year), is depicted as an extremely lively time with family, food and firecrackers. Li Hongqi has painted the antithesis of this conception with the youth standing around looking at each other (and occasionally throwing slurs at one another) and their guardians doing much of the same. Winter Vacation is anchored by two sets of characters: five teenage boys who continually ask each other what they are going to do and an antagonistic grandfather and grandson sitting at opposite ends of a couch trading jabs. The film cycles through the non-events of the town—a thug extorting money from a kid, a woman buying nappa cabbage, a couple getting a divorce—but always returns to our two groups of heroes. At first these individuals seem oblivious to the absurdity of their stage set life until it is slowly revealed that they are more than aware of their sardonic situation. Kids and adults alike are calm but pensive. Li punctuates the beautifully barren images with a subtle soundtrack by experimental composer Zuoxiao Zuzhou (who has also contributed to soundtracks for Jia Zhangke, Zhu Wen, Yang Fudong and Ai Weiwei.) I, being a person who generally likes watching paint dry, adored Winter Vacation and it may just be my biggest discovery and favorite film of VIFF.


Chassis (2010)
Adolfo Alix, Jr.
Philippines

The VIFF program bills Chassis as "sub-proletarian Filipina Jeanne Dielmann," a trick that seemed to have me in mind. There is an air of truth in this statement (especially in their respective final sequences) but the two are literally and metaphysically worlds apart. Nora's husband drives a truck and they live with their young daughter in makeshift homes underneath idle trucks in the truck yard alongside many other families. Her husband is often absent, even when he is not driving, and seems completely uninvolved with helping raise their daughter. Under the most extreme circumstances, Nora does her best to provide for her daughter and occasionally turns to prostitution to make ends meet. At one point in the film a man on the bus is asking for donations for people with disabilities. Although it is unimaginable, Nora sees that her situation could be worse and gives the man some money. Far be it from me to tell you that her situation does get worse, but Nora's perfunctory attitude is eventually pushed to the limit. Shot in black and white, Chassis makes the most of emotion in this even keel portrayal of life on the fringes.


Mundane History (2010)
Anocha Suwichakompong
Thailand

It's hard to see a mystical film from Thailand and not think of Apichatpong Weerasethakul. But this would be ignoring that Thailand is a country deeply rooted in Buddhism, a religion that is far more open to broader definitions of life and the universe and Mundane History is magically able to work this into a simple but corporeal story. Ake is a young man who has been recently confined to a wheelchair from an accident that is never fully defined. Understandably bitter, Ake is hard on his new and easygoing nurse Pun, a man who is not much older than Ake. Early in the film, Pun laments to someone on the phone that he's not sure if he likes his job: "Everyone here is soulless." Mundane History patiently spends time proving this statement wrong. Ake slowly opens up to Pun and director Anocha Suwichakompong slowly introduces us to much larger themes that connect us all. The timeline is patterned, working back and forth within the period of time that Ake and Pun get to know each other peppered with burst of abstractions. The film derides conventional notions of time (presenting the title credit 20 minutes into the film) and the narrative is unconcerned with conclusion. As a matter of fact, the film ends with a bold statement on beginnings with an unblinking and visceral birth. The uncanny combination of macro and micro themes in Mundane History works seamlessly under Suwichakompong's gentle direction. If Pun releases animals in order to build his karma, Suwichakompong has made a film in order to build ours. It is also worth noting that Mundane History makes good use of pop songs in its soundtrack from the bands Furniture and The Photo Sticker Machine.


Oki's Movie (2010)
Hong Sang-soo
South Korea

Hong Sang-soo films should be more spread apart, because having just seen the vibrant Hahaha, Oki's Movie seems like a pale exercise. Split into four short films, Oki's Movie puts two men from different generations and their respective affair with Oki under the Hong microscope. The respective films show four different perspectives from four different times. Jingu is a film student whose affair with Oki raises the jealous ire of his professor, Song who also has a history with the young woman. Jingu is the hapless hero who we embarrassingly see flinging his ego in places it doesn't belong. In one of my favorite scene's from the film, Hong sets up a hilarious post-screening discussion where Jingu is answering questions about his film. Jingu is drunk and is being overly essoteric about his film when a young woman stands up and asks him why he dumped her friend he was seeing a couple years ago. The uncomfortable but compulsory Q & A that we all know so well is kicked up a notch as the young woman presses Jingu and no one, including Jingu, can put a stop to it. Oki's Movie certainly has its moments, but the four chapter portraiture—notated by separate credits and Elgar's "Pomp and Circumstance"—seems like an unnecessary distraction.

VIFF: Day 10

Another Year (2010)
Mike Leigh
UK

For those who found Happy-Go-Lucky too annoying or Vera Drake too depressing, Another Year finds Leigh back in the territory of Secret and Lies, Life is Sweet and High Hopes. Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Sheen) play a happily married couple and hosts to a handful of lonely outsiders, who find warmth from the friendliness of the couple. Tom's a geologist and Gerri's a therapist and they effortlessly wile away their time in each other's company preparing food or tending their garden. At the forefront of the colorful cast of characters is Mary (Lesley Manville), a perky but lonely co-work who is always trying too hard to see the bright side of things that are clearly not bright. Covering a full year earmarked by the seasons, Another Year burns with a warmth that equally bitter and sweet. Some things change but most things don't. The cast is simply remarkable as Leigh is able to pull out some of the most amazing performances through his unconventional methods. This is especially the case with Ruth Sheen who steels the show as she did with a very similar character in High Hopes. Another Year is a gentle masterpiece from a gentle master. Another Year is scheduled for a US release later this year, and will be a shoe-in for one of the best of the year.


Aftershock (2010)
Feng Xiaogang
China

Garnering the favor of 1.3 billion people is nothing to scoff at. Feng Xiaogang's new blockbuster fantastique, Aftershock, has become the highest grossing domestic film in China. But, as we all know, impressive box office numbers don't always mean an impressive film. Feng has created the kind of weepy big budget melodrama that Hollywood incessantly cranks out every year, and it is predictably admirable and disappointing. Based on a novel of the same name, Aftershock dramatizes one family's epic experience of the 1976 Tangshan earthquake (the deadliest in history) and it's 30 year after effect. Husband and wife, Da and Qiang, and their twin son and daughter are representative of an average family that was torn apart by the earthquake. In this story, the four member family suffers one death and enough physical and emotional damage for the remaining three to last a lifetime (or the remainder of Aftershock's 135 minute runtime.) Feng pulls out the disaster CGI early in the film, but then allows full-tilt melodrama to drive the film home. Moving through the decades, the character's age and the country changes, landing the film in the middle of the 2008 Sichuan earthquake for a sense of resolve. Perhaps I give Aftershock a pass for its many shortcomings, most that come in the form of a forced narrative and an extremely heavy-handed drama. But the era that the film encapsulates is something of a harbinger for China. Although China's two biggest earthquakes fall in the years of 1976 and 2008, the significance of those years is not lost on most. With the death of Zhou Enlai and Mao Zidong, 1976 was an end of a very difficult epoch, preparing the country for the biggest changes yet that is most dramatically symbolized by the Summer Olympics held in Beijing in 2008. This subtle yet very nationalistic subtext lies just beneath the surface of Aftershock's blockbuster facade. China's Oscar contender, Aftershock shoots for broad mass appeal and sells out on just about everything else.

R (2010)
Michael Noer and Tobias Lindholm
Denmark

In the realm of the prison/gang hierarchy film, I'm afraid we are on the brink of a revisionist upheaval which I could tire of very quickly. R starts to follow A Prophet so closely that I quickly got bored with this film's intentions. Rune is a tough and wily convict transferred to prison block where even the guards nonchalantly predict Rune's doom. Using wit and obedience, Rune finds a way to make peace and work his way into the lucrative drug trade being run by the prison kingpins. R is eventually able to set itself apart with an unexpected twist, but it certainly takes its time doing so. Although engaging and well acted, I sat through R feeling like I had seen this film too many times before.

VIFF: Day 7

Rumination (2009)
Xu Ruotao
China

Visually artist Xu Ruotao give the Cultural Revolution the full symbolic treatment in this experimental and counterintuitive film. At times feeling like a performance art piece and at times falling apart due to spare production values, Rumination is a refreshing new take on a popular subject in mainland Chinese film. The action follows the aimless wanderings of a small rural regiment of the Red Guard between 1966-76. They do a lot of nothing as they randomly persecute individuals and explore the dilapidated buildings that adorn the barren landscape. The film's segments are notated by year intertitles that go chronologically. The visuals, however, depict occurrences in the opposite order. In other words, the opening, titled 1966, clearly represents the Tangshan earthquake in 1976, and the ending, titled 1976, represents Mao's resurgence of power in 1966. In the middle Xu uses archive footage for 1971, a turning point in the Cultural Revolution due to Lin Biao's criminalization and death. The film feels very free form, but with closer examination, Rumination is filled with specificity. Xu Ruotao never underestimates the audience's understanding of Chinese history and ability to interpret its often vague allegories, and, as a result, much of the film remains elusive. As a painter, Xu is given to greater leaps of faith than is characteristic in filmmaking. Xu was on hand after the screening and the first thing he did was apologise for not knowing how to make a film, an admiral recognition even if it is just half modesty. He also said he had no idea why he flipped the timeline in such an unconventional way, making it even more interesting. In many ways, I think Rumination's odd chronology speaks to the way time and political movements cycle. Rumination was included in the selection for the Dragons and Tigers Award for Young Cinema and was rightfully awarded a special mention.


End of Animal (2010)
Jo Sung-hee
South Korea

Although seeing so many movies lumped together makes things a little muddled and it becomes hard to make bold statements without a little time and perspective, I'm going to do it anyway: Jo Sung-hee's End of Animal is one of the most unique South Korean films I have seen in some time and may well be the most sublimely unique in the Festival. End of Animal is a loosely spiritual film portraying an ambiguous apocalypse that comes suddenly without cinematic trappings or warning. Soon-young is pregnant and traveling via taxi from Seoul to her mother's house north of the city. The driver picks up a young man headed in the same direction who has the uncanny ability to know everything about both the driver and Soon-young, including what they are thinking. I'll stop there. Most of this film is about experiencing the unexpected under pretenses that don't necessarily match the subject matter. Jo Sung-hee winds this story up tighter than a drum, sending waves of dread, anticipation and frustration through a captive audience. End of Animal leaves you with far more questions and mysteries than answers and conclusions, and dares to be wildly allegorical. The director was in attendance, and was faced with an audience that I don't think knew how to process this film. Other than admitting to religious inspirations, Jo shed few clues about this enigmatic film. Reminiscent of Moon Seung-wook's abstract Nabi from 2001, End of Animal is an unbelievable debut film.

VIFF: Day 6

I Wish I Knew (2010)
Jia Zhangke
China

Jia Zhangke's I Wish I Knew plunges into the depths of Shanghai's living history with huge doses of artistry and humanism. Politically bold and historically rich, I Wish I Knew is a compassionate search for the heart of a city bursting at the seams with modernity. Since opening its ports to foreign trade, Shanghai has been a sponge for the country's ills and advances, but has maintained its aura as a European city even in China's most xenophobic moments. The Shanghai that we know now was built by its trade prowess, but defined by wars that raged in the 30s and 40s. Although Shanghai was under constant threat from the Japanese for nearly 15 years, it was the brutal battles between the Communists and the Nationalist that held the population in a powder keg that eventually sent residents scattershot physically and emotionally. It is this fragile moment in the 1940s from which Jia excavates stories about Shanghai from people still residing in the Paris of East and others flung to Hong Kong or Taiwan. Most are recalling moments of their childhood or the trials endured by their parents: the daughter of a gangster, the son of a KMT officer, the son of a Communist officer. But Jia also mines Shanghai's cinematic past by interviewing the son of actress Shangguan Yunzhu (Two Stage Sisters, Crows and Sparrows), the daughter of director Fei Mu (Springtime in a Small Town) as well as the living actress from that film Wei Wei (recently seen in her small role in Freddy Wong's The Drunkard.) Jia also spends a brief amount of time with Hou Hsiao-hsein, in the last car of a train of course. There is also a fascinating interview with the man in charge of Antonioni as he shot his documentary Chung Kuo. Zhou Enlai had invited the French auteur, but later when Zhou had fallen out of favor with the Communist, the innocent man was rigorously questioned for his involvement with Antonioni's 'anti-revolutionary' film. The interviews, as one might expect, are beautifully staged even in the cases where they are particularly stayed. Connecting the interviews are elegiac scenes from the city that recall moments of 24 City. Jia closes out the film with interviews from the new generation: a self mad man in the stock market and the hugely popular writer/blogger/racecar driver Han Han. The English title, I Wish I Knew, is an epitaph for Shanghai's history that is being buried under its gloss and wealth, but it also seems to describe the desire of a young director too understand. The Chinese title, 海上传奇, with the characters for Shanghai inverted like Hou Hsiao-hsien's Flowers of Shanghai, is literally translated to "legend on the sea." Commissioned for the Shanghai Expo, I Wish I Knew keeps Jia on firm documentary ground with the exception of ambiguous and slightly heavy-handed interludes that include Zhao Tao. I nonetheless, relished every second of I Wish I Knew: a beautiful tribute to the city that now roars.


Insects in the Backyard (2010)
Tanwarin Sukkhapisit
Thailand

An assured debut from Tanwarin Sukkhapisit, who acts as director, writer and star, Insects in the Backyard is an oblique and very personal confrontation of Thailand's sex trade. Jenny and Johnny are teenagers whose parents have 'died' and who now live with their older sister, Tanya, a transvestite prone to wearing long black gloves and smoking gowns as she casually hangs out at home. The kids are endlessly frustrated with Tanya's constant coddling and mothering, and Tanya is always silently devastated by their rejection. The complications and confusions between the trio compel them to individually seek libido driven answers. Insects in the Backyard is a painfully honest film that is occasionally hard to watch due to its candidness. Sukkhapisit has made an incredibly brave first film.


Sawako Decides (2010)
Ishii Yuya
Japan

A sweet and effective comedy, Sawako Decides is carried by the spirited performance of Hikari Mitsushima as Sawako. Sawako is a classic underachiever, or, as she describes it, a low-middler. After five years in Tokyo, she is on her fifth job and her fifth boyfriend and neither one is worth writing home about. But writing home is something Sawako never did anyway, having left at the age of 18 with a very large chip on her shoulder. But now her father is sick, and, at the persuasion of her uncle and her boyfriend (who sees a possible career opportunity for himself), Sawako returns home to help with her father's clam packaging company. Facing the scrutiny of the entire village for abandoning her father and his business, Sawako is forced to confront her low-middling characteristics to put her life on track. Although the film has some unexpected turns, you know exactly where this film is going. Peppered with clever and funny dialogue, Sawako Decides, at the very least, aims to please.


Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010)
Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Thailand

Uncle Boonmee, you are wonderful. But given my behindedness in these updates and the fact that I am going to Uncle Boonmee again in a few days, I will post my thoughts a little later.

Three to remember. VIFF: Day 5

Yowzers day 5. I should just go home now. There is absolutely no way I can do any of the films below justice considering available time and brain, so please accept my apologies for the brief and muddled thoughts. All three of these films are highly recommended.

Hahaha (2010)
Hong Sang-soo
South Korea

I sat in Hahaha completely bewildered: Why had I never thought about Woody Allen in connection with Hong Sang-soo? I tried to run through Hong's films in my head. Was I distracted by other aspects? Or is Hahaha just that much different from the rest of his films? Either way, basking in the glow of Hahaha, it seemed to hit me over the head with a 2 x 4. (And for the record, we are talking about Allen's "funnier films.") Munkyung and Jungshik are friends who are revisiting recent events over a few drinks. They trade stories of their coincidental trips to Tongyung on the southern coast of Korea, and, as their stories play out on screen, we realize—but they don't—that their wanderings in the area overlap and include some of the same people. Munkyung is a recently fired professor who now calls himself a film director (even though he hasn't made a film) and is planning on immigrating to Canada to help his aunt run a photo franchise. Jungshik is a depressed married man who is having an affair with an airline stewardess and is tortured by the fact that he is being untrue to both of them. All events involve hilarious and farcical attempts to make connections with other people (generally of the opposite sex) and large amounts of soju. Munkyung is played to brilliant pathetic perfection by veteran Hong actor Kim Sangkyung. A mama's boy prone to weeping, Munkyung is a Hong Sangsoo styled everyman but is given the onscreen space to indulge in conventional character tropes including a dream sequence and a fist fight, both constructed with Hong's unique touch. Seongok (stunningly played by Moon Sori) is an odd and irreverent museum tour guide that Munkyung woefully chases. Munkyung and Jungshik's gathering from which the flashbacks unfold is only seen in brief black and white snap shots and voice over exchanges that would go something like this: "Wow. You were really great!" "Yeah." "Cheers!" "Cheers." "Hahaha." There is a certain formal and tonal restraint to Hong's films, and just a touch of that restraint falls away in Hahaha, easily making it one of the most enjoyable films he has made.


Don't Be Afraid, Bi! (2010)
Phan Dang Di
Vietnam

Toppling any and all expectation, Don't Be Afraid Bi! is one of the most remarkable debut films I have seen in a very long time. Directed by Phan Dang Di, the scribe of last year's subtle Adrift, Don't Be Afraid, Bi! displays a rare skill for storytelling, an uncanny eye for cinematic elegance and a fearless candor for difficult subjects. Bi is a 6-year-old boy who lives with his patient mother, alcoholic father, lonely aunt and bedridden grandfather who has recently returned to Vietnam. Each adult member of the family is dealing with their respective demons as Bi looks on. On the surface the narrative is neither new or innovative, but Phan is able to be delicately obvious and subtly overt, especially in sexual intonations. Don't Be Afraid, Bi! has one of the most surreal seductions sequences since Oshima's Cruel Story of Youth. (And I use the word "seduction" very loosely in both cases.) Meanwhile he weaves the familial riffs with Bi's innocent explorations of an ice factory and the grassy fields next to the river with visual innovation. His naive observations are a visual patchwork for the viewer that add a substance that few films even bother with. The final shot binds the characters and the film to the dirt they live upon while acknowledging the world as something much bigger and much more mysterious. Don't Be Afraid, Bi! is a revelation, and Vietnam is long overdue for such an incredible new voice in filmmaking.


Karamay (2009)
Xu Xin
China

Not only the longest film at VIFF, Karamay may also be the most important. On December 8, 1994 a fire broke in Friendship Hall in Karamay, a town in the far western Chinese province of Xinjiang. Inside the large theater, the region's brightest and most talented young students were performing for local and regional officials. 325 people were killed in the fire, 288 of them were children. The chaos that ensued in the weeks that followed the fire was heightened because of the obvious and overwhelming grief of parents and relatives, but also by the shameless government cover up of the story. A media embargo on the tragedy, still in effect in China, meant to quash the story seems to have had the opposite effect and left many people burning with hatred and sorrow and allowed the incident to symbolize government corruption through underground channels. Xu Xin's six hour documentary, shot in 2007, attempts to make up for 13 years of forced silence through his own relentless investigation of staggering emotional resonance. The film opens on the 13th anniversary of the fire at the huge graveyard of the victims in the middle of a barren, rubble-filled field. Walking around to the gravestones, each with a small photo, we slowly start to meet some of the families who have come to burn offerings to their dead children. From here, Xu moves into the bulk of the film which is made up of candid interviews with the parents and archive news reports, home videos and long buried media footage. Slowly and patiently, Karamay allows people to fully express their feelings, suspicions and first hand accounts about the fire—an accommodation that these people are given probably for the first time from someone outside of their circle. Xu builds a devastating portrait of the events, the unbelievable negligence and the lost souls left behind. Thirteen years is still painfully recent for the interviewees but seems like enough distance from the incident for this documentary to exist with proper perspective. If my comments above haven't been clear, I was completely bowled over by Karamay and its a film I hope to return to in the future.

VIFF: Day 4

The Man From Nowhere (2010)
Lee Jeong-beom
South Korea

Completely by the numbers, The Man From Nowhere borrows from so many South Korean action dramas that it almost feels like a theatrical déjà vu. Almost. The film opens with a police stakeout at a club where a drug deal is taking place—the goods are dropped, the police rush in, a dancing girl steals the drugs and the evidence that the police need is gone. The film cuts to a rundown apartment building where a mysterious loner (Won Bin) runs a pawn shop. His only friend is a young neighbor girl who is unafraid of his silence and shady look. As things go, the girl is the daughter of the dancing girl who stole the drugs and the drugs have been stashed in a camera bag sold to the pawn shop. The mob is hot on the woman's tail and the police are hot on the mob's tail. Our man from nowhere gets caught in the middle and his long buried past comes rushing to the surface. The Man From Nowhere is a pulsing and often violent thriller that has no problem stopping now and then for a little melodrama. Most of it results from the clichéd friendship between the secretive lone wolf and the cast aside young girl. But don't go to The Man From Nowhere for the drama, go for the well designed action sequences including a hand-to-hand knife fight that would impress any ronin. Reminiscent of last year's The Chaser and numerous other slick South Korean actioneers, The Man From Nowhere is nonetheless able to carve out a very satisfying niche for itself. The 10:00am screening could not stop the Won Bin fans from storming the theater, coffee in hand. Coos emerged at his first appearance and a shirtless scene near the middle of the film—the power of the heartthrob lives!


The High Life (2010)
Zhao Dayong
China
preceded by
Condolences (2009)
Ying Liang
China

Acclaimed documentary filmmaker Zhao Dayong (Ghost Town) jumps to fiction with this unique and fiercely independent film. Bifurcated by two narrative strains, The High Life unexpectedly switches tonal gears and, as a result, magically lifts the burden of expectations. Set in the mean streets of Ghangzhou, Jian Ming runs a fake employment stand where he guiltlessly takes the money of desperate migrant workers knowing that they will disappear before they have a chance to realize his scam. Oddly content with his so-called business, Jian wiles away his free time practicing Beijing opera in full costume and hanging out with his girlfriend who works as a prostitute. His personal conflicts are internalized and are only revealed in his actions—some subtle, some not so subtle. When his friend talks him into helping with a pyramid scheme, he suddenly and insignificantly gets arrested, which jettisons the film into its second part in a jail where Jian is being held. The focus shifts to an unscrupulous but kindhearted prison guard, Dian Qui. Dian forces prisoners to incessantly read aloud from a of his own poetry and finds ways to punish those who refuse. Dian's odd form of reformation is accepted and even relished by some of the prisoners. Dian's candor allows us to get to know some of the inmates, but there fate in the prison is as fleeting as their future. The actors who play Jian and Dian provide a sense of honesty to their complex characters with seemingly little or no effort. The film's title is borrowed from a line spoken by a thug in anticipation for a future that doesn't exist. The High Life depicts anything but what the title implies, and instead finds a simple sort of grace in the small pleasures. Zhao's unusually narrative adds a new facet to the well-worn path of indie Chinese film. Condolences, screened ahead of The High Life, is a documentary that gives the viewer a fly-on-the-wall perspective of a solemn funeral in one fascinating shot.


The Drunkard (2010)
Freddie Wong
Hong Kong

Based on the popular Hong Kong novel of the same name, Freddie Wong's debut feature is as boozy as the title implies. The Drunkard, however, is able to compliment the somber drunken atmosphere with swoon worthy 1960s Hong Kong sexiness. The film's namesake is Mr. Lau, a disillusioned middle-age writer whose private and public failures are washed away with endless glasses of whiskey. Haunted by his memories of the Japanese war in Shanghai, Lau slowly loses his means to support himself, his addiction and the beautiful woman who provide him companionship. Veteran actor Zhang Guozhu carries The Drunkard on his solid but liquor soaked shoulders. He embodies the contradictions of this dignified adict with gritty charm. As if trying to protect himself from the same fate, he finds it easy to call other people clichés. It's worth noting that Wong is a film critic and a programmer for the Hong Kong International Film Festival. He purchased the rights to the novel ten years ago and it has taken him this long to get his film made. The film boasts an impressive production despite its shoestring budget, with an inspired cast of classic actors. As any screen shot or clip will show, The Drunkard will forever be burdened by comparisons to In the Mood for Love (which also drew inspiration from the same novel.) In making a masterpiece, Wong Kar Wai owns the era in with The Drunkard is set. (The Drunkard received its International Premiere here at VIFF with Freddy Wong in attendance.)


The Metamorphosis (2010)
Lee Samchil
South Korea
preceded by
Father's Challenge (2010)
Jo Ara
South Korea

South Korean experimental film: one a riff on Guy Maddin and one a riff on Kafka. Neither worked. 'Nuff said.

Fortune tellers and fairy tales. VIFF: Day 3

Seven Days in Heaven (2010)
Wang Yu-lin, Essay Liu
Taiwan

A perfectly calculated dramody, Seven Days in Heaven is an excellent representation of a mainstream film from Taiwan that will probably never find its way across the Taiwan Straight or the South China Sea, let alone the Pacific Ocean. Debut directors, Wang Yu-lin and Essay Liu, effortlessly combine refreshing humor and bittersweet sorrow that feels honest to the characters they represent. After Lin Guo-yan passes away, his family and friends congregate for a funeral with all the Buddhist bells and whistles. Steeped in rigorous tradition, the funeral must be carried out with specified ritual and seven days of mourning. The majority of this burden falls on Lin's daughter, Mei, and son, Da-zhi. The two follow all the filial obligations while also dealing with their very mixed emotions. Presiding over the ceremony is Yi, an eccentric Taoist priest and hobbyist poet, and his multifaceted girlfriend who works as a professional mourner, karaoke singer and all around charmer. The script is whip-smart and is able to build the characters into unique yet familiar individuals. Light and entertaining, Seven Days balances complex emotions with ironic wit into a very sweet affair of the heart.


Pinoy Sunday (2010)
Ho Wi Ding
Taiwan

Pinoy Sunday is a buddy film about two immigrant Filipino workers in Taiwan. With the promise of higher wages, Manuel and Dado travel far from their home as contract workers in a bicycle manufacturing plant. Manuel is the free spirit and smooth talker who worries more about chasing girls than being deported for curfew violations. Dado is a family man who left a wife and daughter back in the Philippines and is now guilt ridden about the girlfriend he has in his new home. Down on their luck and feeling low, Manuel and Dado spot an expensive abandoned sofa that symbolizes a brighter future for the two of them. The only problem is how the money-strapped duo will get the sofa back across town before their curfew. Like a hybrid 48 Hours, Pinoy Sunday tracks their mission impossible from city center to police station to river crossing. Unfortunately Manuel and Dado are sketched as caricatures and never allow the film to levitate beyond its own contrivances. As they bicker their way across town, they are scripted into corners of calculated humor. It's hard to take either of their characters seriously, even when they are being serious, and that likewise carries over to the entire film.


Peace (2010)
Soda Kazuhiro
Japan/USA

A simply yet poetic "observation film," Peace was commission by the DMZ Documentary Film Festival, a festival that highlights the complicated issues at the North and South Korea Demilitarized Zone. Kazuhiro's film focuses on the humanitarian work of Kashiwagi Toshio and his wife Hiroko. The couple run a non-profit to help the elderly and disabled who do not have the ability to drive. The people they visit, help and just spend time with are those cast aside with little or no support system left. There kind-hearted endeavors carry over to the gang of motley cats that take refuge in their backyard. Also unwanted by the majority of society, the cats become an allegory for the disabled and the infirmed. Kazuhiro's gentle portrait finds a simple power in humanity and kindness - an onscreen rarity.

The Sleeping Beauty (2010)
Catherine Breillat
France

Coming at this film with only a Walt Disney knowledge of the fairy tell "Sleeping Beauty" is not going to help anyone. Catherine Breillat tackles her second fairy tale in so many years with surreal and abstract panache. And while the origins of Bluebeard's sinisterness is obvious, The Sleeping Beauty's is buried within Charles Perrault's original from 1697 as well as other adaptations that followed. But even full knowledge of these texts may not help navigate Breillat's obscure intentions with this lavishly detailed but highly digressive adaptation. Much like the original, a young princess is cursed at birth to fall into a deep sleep that will last 100 years. But here is where the film splits with the text as Breillat freely improvises a surreal world that feels merely inspired by the fairy tale. Anastasia, as the princess is named here, spends much of the film wandering a dreamworld that she enters after impaling (not pricking) her hand. The Sleeping Beauty is full of the most striking images that resonate and leave an impression: vultures perched in a tree with a slate-grey sky; they young girl riding a deer in a pink outfit through a snowy landscape; the ogre covered in boils who challenges the young girl. Unfortunately the narrative details become as confounding and tedious as the ambiguous logic behind this loosely woven story. Fairy tales, and their perverse subtexts, seem perfect for Breillat's keen eye for social and sexual politics, but this one is far too drawn out and elusive, even for this fan.


Fortune Teller (2009)
Xu Tong
China

Armed with an HD camera, Xu Tong has made one of the bravest documentaries I have ever seen. Brave, not so much because of the risk or the strength it took to make Fortune Teller, but brave because the importance of the subject matter is placed ahead of the importance of the audience. Xu Tong takes a long look (2 1/2 hours) at Li Baicheng, a traditional Chinese fortune teller, and his wife Pearl Shi. Both are physically disabled and int their 60s, and Pearl is also mentally disabled. The couple, and most the people they come in contact with, represent the fringes of the fringes of Chinese society. Its a completely engrossing examination that is as rewarding as it is painful. I was completely galvanized. (This is an international premiere for Fortune Teller and I plan on spending some time on a full review.)

MSPIFF 2010: Day 4

Nénette (2010) Nicolas Philibert - Recommended
Nénette is a 40 year-old orangutan who has spent 37 of those years in captivity at the Menagerie du Jardin des Plantes in Paris. Nicolas Philibert trains his camera on Nénette and her three orangutan companions behind the thick observation glass of the zoo and never deviates from them. A vocal narrative accompanies the images with interviews about Nénette and conversations people have with and about the orangutans in front of the protective glass. Sometimes this was the din of a hundred school children and sometimes this was the thoughtful presumptions about Nénette's life. Philibert, the director of the most successful documentary in France, To Be and to Have, is one of the most conscientious documentary filmmakers around. Careful with subject matter and attentive with style, Philibert's choices have a subtle effect on an unsuspecting audience. This sort of visual specificity is not about manipulation, but about creating a unique experience with a documentary film. Nénette ends up being an effective portrait of ourselves through the reflection of the orangutans. Having just heard a radio program about a group of orangutans in a zoo who figured out how to pick a lock in order to get into the tress of the elephant pen, I was aware about how amazingly intelligent these animals are. Add to it my general distaste for zoos and Nénette became a very melancholy film about our patronization of animals. But being able to see these animals and their amazing features and how they resemble us, is one of the great gifts of zoos. My chances to see an orangutan in the wild: zero. Philibert taps into this dichotomy by contrasting the images with the audio.
(Nénette is one of the newest films at MSPIFF and has yet to negotiate distribution. Best possible scenario is that we will see it available on DVD in a few years.)

Last Train Home (2009) Fan Lixin - Recommeneded
When living in China, I took it upon myself to tackle the art of train travel. The trains in China go everywhere, are relatively affordable and extremely reliable. The real tricks involve negotiating tickets and the masses. As a foreigner I had more options when it came to buying tickets, but often took the when in Rome philosophy despite the fact that it was obvious I wasn't a Roman. It was good practice for my language skills and made for interesting situations, to say the least. When I would find myself in the middle of the crush to get on the train (hundreds of passengers who all wanted a seat and room for their luggage) people would be shocked to see a 'big nose' amongst them, but would keep on pushing. Train transportation in an ever more mobile population was the backdrop for this documentary about a modern Chinese family torn apart by the financial needs and desires created by 'communism with capitalistic traits.' Husband and wife, Changhua and Suqin, left their sleepy, economically depressed village in the middle of Sichuan Providence to pursue more gainful work in Guangxhou's garment district. Their only desire is to provide enough money for their two children, left in Sichuan with their grandmother, to go to school and the education they need for a better life. Their children, however, feel completely cut off from their parents whom they see only once a year when they (and a million or so other people) make a trip home for the New Year. Their teenage daughter sees other opportunities other than school and follows in her parents footsteps to seek work elsewhere, becoming just one more migrant worker. The documentary work wonders in lifting a veil on just one family among the millions in the same situation. However, much like Up the Yangtze, the presence of the camera feels like an unintended red herring that acts as a diversion for the subjects and the audience. The subtle observations get overshadowed by the melodrama that documentary pursues.
(Last Train Home is has US distribution and will eventually make an appearance on DVD and/or on demand services.)

MSPIFF: Day 7

Thursday is my Friday. I bolted out of work in order to get some grub and begin my three movie night to celebrate my weekend.

Biggest Chinese Restaurant in the World (2008) directed by Chen Weijun

West Lake is the fabled lake set in the middle of Hangzhou, and finds a place in poems, stories and paintings due to its beauty. There is another West lake, but it is (ta-da) the biggest Chinese restaurant in the world, with a plaque to prove it. Located in Changsha, West Lake Restaurant is a megalosaurian beast. The restaurant, built to look like Qing Dynasty palace, can accommodate 5,000 people. The humble documentary profiles the owner and some of the staff as well as three groups having parties at the venue: a wedding party, a 70th birthday party, and a baby party. The food looked amazing, but I can tell you that PETA would probably have some issues with the preparations. Preparing the same dish that opened Help Me, Eros, chefs were timed on how fast they could cook "live fried fish." (And, yes, the point is that it is still alive when it hits the plate.) In many ways, Biggest Chinese Restaurant in the World reiterates many of the things that documentaries have beaten to death: the Chinese love of money, the importance of family, the exotic nature of food in China, etc, etc. At best it is mildly interesting. Tonight was the last screening at MSPIFF. Take It or Leave It.

Rudo y Cursi (2008) directed by Carlos Cauron

If you take a look at the production credits on Rudo y Cursi (which includes his brother Alfonso, as well as Alejandro González Iñárritu and Guillermo del Toro), you understand why, when asked the inane question about his budget, Carlos Cauron would reply "I don't know." Contrary to the ad in the newspaper, which stated that "Top Mexican director Alfonso Cauron (Y Tu Mama Tambien) present for Rudo y Cursi," Carlos Cauron was present for a Q and A after the screening. Although the film has it's moments, I think Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna were probably having more fun than the audience. Everything is tongue-in-cheek and open for a gag: shower razing, gambling addictions, sibling rivalry and country bumpkins. Bernal, as Cursi, is especially brilliant as a terrible singer, patronized due to his fame as a football player. The charm of these two actors is undeniable, but the film would be a hollow shell without them. Rudo y Cursi is done at the Fest, but it will make it back to town in a few weeks. Take It or Leave It.

The Mermaid (2007) directed by Anna Melikyan

I opted to see this Russian film rather than take another crack at Los Bastardos, and I'm glad I did. I would like to think I am not easily charmed, but this film was about as endearing as a film can get. Most of the credit goes to Masha Shalayeva as Alisa, who is like a Russian Franka Potente (instead of Lola red, we have Alisa green.) I know nothing about this Rusalka legend and am too lazy to look it up at this point, but the story has a very fairytale-like quality. High production values and some clever shots have left me with some of the most striking images I have seen in the Fest. At her family's seaside home, Alisa's Grandmother sits outside under a garish beach umbrella as the window into the house perfectly frames a lighthouse wall tapestry. The film is filed with such creative stills. Alisa sees through (or perhaps beyond) the misguided romanticized freedom in advertisements an hollow slogans. Lighthearted and enchanting, The Mermaid is completely adorable and unpredictable. No more screenings at the Fest. I wonder if this will make it back to town? Recommended.

Jia Zhangke and THE WORLD

The new issue of Week in Review is up at In Review Online, and I have two pieces involved in a look at Jia Zhangke's work. The first is an essay on Jia and the amazing films he has made, and the second is a review of The World.

Check 'em out!

Xie Jin R.I.P.

Legendary and award winning Chinese film director Xie Jin died at the age of 84 this past weekend. Xie didn't make many films that had much of an international impact, but he and his films are very well known in China. Xie directed 19 features, the first (Woman Basketball Player No. 9) in 1957 and his last (Woman Soccer Player No. 9) in 2001 (ironically coming full circle.) His 1961 adaptation of The Red Detachment of Women (which later became a popular ballet, especially during the Cultural Revolution) is a brilliant piece of Communist propaganda about a peasant woman's rise in the Communist ranks. More recently, he directed Hibiscus Town (1986) which won Best Picture at China's Golden Rooster Awards in 1997. He duplicated his award winning success with The Opium War in 1997 which had the biggest budget for Mainland film to date (no doubt having something to do with the Hong Kong handover.) He was found unconscious in a hotel room.

For the obsessive importers the DVDs can be found here: The Red Detachment of Women, Two Actresses aka Stage Sisters (1965), Legend of Tianyun Mountain (1980) and The Herdsman. The Opium War and Hibiscus Town seems to be unavailable with English subtitles.