Silvia Chang's (
One of the rare women filmmakers in Chinese-language films, Chang has managed to make a movie every two to three years since 1986. Apart from her directing work, she runs her own artist-management business, while once in a while still acting in a few Hong Kong movies and also releasing records as a singer. And every now and then, her so-called "chick movies" will come out as impressive surprises, such as this 2004 Berlin Film Festival entry, 20, 30, 40.
In keeping with the trend of romantic comedies trying to mirror Sex and the City or Bridget Jones' Diary, which honestly reveal the awkwardness, defeat and cruelty women face in the games of love, 20, 30, 40 movie offers a Chinese version on these by-now familiar themes.
PHOTO COURTESY OF COLUMBIA ASIA
20, 30, 40 meets its expectations, being an honest, cute, semi-feminist movie about women in Taipei.
The 30-something woman Hsiang-hsiang (Rene Liu (劉若英)) is a flight attendant torn between two men -- one a musician in New York, who is not mature enough to settle down, the other a mature doctor, but married. Hsiang-hsiang is always reminded of her mom's reasons for forcing her to learn piano. "One day your man will leave you, so at least you can teach piano."
The 40-something Lily (Silvia Chang) takes a flight tended by Hsiang-hsiang back to Taipei, with her husband and 17-year-old daughter. A happy wife and mother who owns a flower shop, Lily finds out about her husband's mistress and decides on an immediate divorce. On the same flight is Jie (Lee Sin-jie, (李心潔)), a 20-something Malaysian girl coming to Taiwan to become a singer. She is teamed up with a Hong Kong girl by a sloppy, down-on-her-luck producer-songwriter and she is unsure about her future.
The most honest and moving story between the three women is the 40-something Lily, portrayed by director Chang herself. Trying to prove that she's still attractive, she spends wild nights at Taipei's Carnegie's and dates a young man whose two obsessions are sex and sports, the former of which wears out her middle-aged bones.
As a director, Chang this time has a more open, easy and mature eye when looking at a woman's life, than her 1999 film Tempting Heart (心動), which was an equally touching, though slightly forced, story about a nostalgic romance. Lily's story generates the most laughs as well as tears.
Also impressive is Jie's story, performed and written by Lee Sin-jie, wth obvious autobiographical elements. An ambiguous feeling grows between Jie and Tung, the Hong Kong girl, who tries to seduce her. Jie is not sure if she's jealous when she sees Tung suddenly find a boyfriend. Also uncertain is her bumpy singer dream, because no one wants to make a record for the duo.
Rene Liu makes full use of her solid acting skills, but her story is a bit thinner than those of the other two women.
And as for men in this movie, no doubt they are minor characters, but Silvia Chang scored a casting coup, getting both Tony Leung Kar-fai (
20, 30, 40 may not be Silvia Chang's best movie so far, but it is by far the most honest and sincere work about women's loves and lives in Taipei.
Most heroes are remembered for the battles they fought. Taiwan’s Black Bat Squadron is remembered for flying into Chinese airspace 838 times between 1953 and 1967, and for the 148 men whose sacrifice bought the intelligence that kept Taiwan secure. Two-thirds of the squadron died carrying out missions most people wouldn’t learn about for another 40 years. The squadron lost 15 aircraft and 148 crew members over those 14 years, making it the deadliest unit in Taiwan’s military history by casualty rate. They flew at night, often at low altitudes, straight into some of the most heavily defended airspace in Asia.
This month the government ordered a one-year block of Xiaohongshu (小紅書) or Rednote, a Chinese social media platform with more than 3 million users in Taiwan. The government pointed to widespread fraud activity on the platform, along with cybersecurity failures. Officials said that they had reached out to the company and asked it to change. However, they received no response. The pro-China parties, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), immediately swung into action, denouncing the ban as an attack on free speech. This “free speech” claim was then echoed by the People’s Republic of China (PRC),
Many people in Taiwan first learned about universal basic income (UBI) — the idea that the government should provide regular, no-strings-attached payments to each citizen — in 2019. While seeking the Democratic nomination for the 2020 US presidential election, Andrew Yang, a politician of Taiwanese descent, said that, if elected, he’d institute a UBI of US$1,000 per month to “get the economic boot off of people’s throats, allowing them to lift their heads up, breathe, and get excited for the future.” His campaign petered out, but the concept of UBI hasn’t gone away. Throughout the industrialized world, there are fears that
Like much in the world today, theater has experienced major disruptions over the six years since COVID-19. The pandemic, the war in Ukraine and social media have created a new normal of geopolitical and information uncertainty, and the performing arts are not immune to these effects. “Ten years ago people wanted to come to the theater to engage with important issues, but now the Internet allows them to engage with those issues powerfully and immediately,” said Faith Tan, programming director of the Esplanade in Singapore, speaking last week in Japan. “One reaction to unpredictability has been a renewed emphasis on