There’s a scene in Wasted Orient, a documentary about a Chinese punk band, where the singer is having a laugh with his band mates when suddenly he stands up, leans over a rail, and pukes his guts out. The camera moves in for a close-up of him heaving. When he stops, it pans down to show a pool of liquid and half-digested noodles. “This is beef noodles,” he says, laughing. Next scene: The band, obviously inebriated, playing a show, its young audience chanting, “We want beer! We want beer! We want beer!”
Filmmaker Kevin Fritz chose to film the band Joyside — a group of apathetic, binge-drinking youths if there ever was one — because he wanted to make a documentary showing what he believes is the real China. Not the China of gleaming skyscrapers and astonishing economic growth that’s romanticized in the mainstream media, but the China he inhabits: a place where there’re frequent power outages; where his computer is made from counterfeit hardware and it is impossible to find software that isn’t pirated; and where most young people, according to Fritz, are deeply unhappy.
“I always wanted to do a documentary to show China as it actually is, not how people with political and business aspirations hope it to be,” he says by phone from Beijing on Wednesday. “People are a little bit more confident and honest when they’ve had a little bit” to drink, “so I felt they (Joyside) would be the most forthright people to explain China to a foreign audience.”
Photo courtesy of Plexifilm
“I didn’t try to make anything overly intelligent. All I wanted to do is make a simple film and have something be honest. And basically tell all these other journalists — I’m not a journalist, I consider myself film editor — that this is a big middle finger to all of them because they make out China to be something that it’s not,” he says.
Wasted Youth follows Joyside on its first national tour, through gritty clubs and grittier cities. In most scenes, it seems, band members are either getting drunk or talking about how life sucks. When they sing, it’s about how they want beer and sex or about how life sucks. Joyside’s binge-drinking and apathy are so extreme that the band is a parody of itself, and the viewer gets the impression that they’re mugging for the camera.
According to Fritz, they weren’t. “They all acted the same as they did if the camera wasn’t on,” he says. “That’s the point right there: They’re trying to do their best and make rock ’n’ roll part of this society, but it fails over and over again for any number of reasons, the obvious ones I can’t go into [on the phone from China with a reporter in Taiwan].”
Fritz got his start as a filmmaker editing tractor maintenance videos. He applied for an overseas scholarship as a joke and ended up at Peking University. He met Joyside in 2003 and filmed the documentary in 2005 and 2006. Wasted Orient won the 2007 New Haven Underground Film Festival Best Picture award.
As a subject representing modern China, “I think they (Joyside) were great,” he says. “These guys can be quite gloomy.” Despite outward appearances, “I think there’s a lot of people [in China] who are very unhappy here. But I don’t think my film does justice to that feeling, because it might get me in trouble [with the government]. I only hint at it. I think it’s depressing.”
For Fritz, one of the film’s key scenes comes after the “I want beer” concert. Joyside’s former guitarist, who is Japanese, is standing on a bridge at night, smoking cigarettes, sipping on a tall bottle of beer, and talking in Mandarin about the state of Chinese rock ’n’ roll.
Then he switches to English: “OK, you play your rock ’n’ roll, I will play mine,” he says. “I will just play my guitar.”
He laughs, takes a swig from his beer, shrugs his shoulders, and walks away.
Wasted Orient screens tomorrow at 8:30pm at Paris Night Club (夜巴黎舞廳), 5F, 89, Wuchang St Sec 2, Taipei City (台北市武昌街二段89號5樓). The venue is above the IN89 (Hoover) movie theater in Ximending; and on May 4 at 2pm at Hsinchu Municipal Image Museum (新竹影像博物館), 65 Chungcheng Rd, Hsinchu City (新竹市中正路65號), tel: (03) 528-5840. Tickets are NT$200 or NT$150 with valid student ID. Copies of Wasted Orient can be purchased online at www.plexifilm.com. Joyside’s Web site is www.myspace.com/joyside.
Sept. 1 to Sept. 7 In 1899, Kozaburo Hirai became the first documented Japanese to wed a Taiwanese under colonial rule. The soldier was partly motivated by the government’s policy of assimilating the Taiwanese population through intermarriage. While his friends and family disapproved and even mocked him, the marriage endured. By 1930, when his story appeared in Tales of Virtuous Deeds in Taiwan, Hirai had settled in his wife’s rural Changhua hometown, farming the land and integrating into local society. Similarly, Aiko Fujii, who married into the prominent Wufeng Lin Family (霧峰林家) in 1927, quickly learned Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) and
The low voter turnout for the referendum on Aug. 23 shows that many Taiwanese are apathetic about nuclear energy, but there are long-term energy stakes involved that the public needs to grasp Taiwan faces an energy trilemma: soaring AI-driven demand, pressure to cut carbon and reliance on fragile fuel imports. But the nuclear referendum on Aug. 23 showed how little this registered with voters, many of whom neither see the long game nor grasp the stakes. Volunteer referendum worker Vivian Chen (陳薇安) put it bluntly: “I’ve seen many people asking what they’re voting for when they arrive to vote. They cast their vote without even doing any research.” Imagine Taiwanese voters invited to a poker table. The bet looked simple — yes or no — yet most never showed. More than two-thirds of those
In the run-up to the referendum on re-opening Pingtung County’s Ma-anshan Nuclear Power Plant last month, the media inundated us with explainers. A favorite factoid of the international media, endlessly recycled, was that Taiwan has no energy reserves for a blockade, thus necessitating re-opening the nuclear plants. As presented by the Chinese-language CommonWealth Magazine, it runs: “According to the US Department of Commerce International Trade Administration, 97.73 percent of Taiwan’s energy is imported, and estimates are that Taiwan has only 11 days of reserves available in the event of a blockade.” This factoid is not an outright lie — that
The People’s Republic of China (PRC) yesterday paraded its military hardware in an effort to impress its own population, intimidate its enemies and rewrite history. As always, this was paced by a blizzard of articles and commentaries in the media, a reminder that Beijing’s lies must be accompanied by a bodyguard of lies. A typical example is this piece by Zheng Wang (汪錚) of Seton Hall in the Diplomat. “In Taiwan, 2025 also marks 80 years since the island’s return to China at the end of the war — a historical milestone largely omitted in official commemorations.” The reason for its
RSS