Touted as Asian horror’s first Thai/Taiwanese collaboration, The Fatality (絕魂印) aims to tap the international reputation of Thailand’s renowned ghost cinema. But the film turned out a rudderless befuddling mess, perhaps because of the curiously large number of directors involved.
The film begins with He Zhi-rong (Wu Ke-qun (吳克群), a grubby-looking man who has lost the will to live and drifts aimlessly through the streets of Taipei. After attempting suicide He mysteriously wakes up in a hospital in Thailand as a man named Asanee. Assisted by Stanley (Matt Wu (吳中天), a doctor who initially seems unconcerned about his patient’s welfare, He gradually settles into the life of Asanee and soon has everything that he didn’t in his previous life: a beautiful wife, Nakun (Pichanart Sakhakorn), and a stable job as a public servant.
Life is good until Asanee starts seeing ghosts and other supernatural sights. He realizes that by the power invested in a birthmark on his arm, he is fated to seal death certificates for the soon-to-be deceased in an office-like space within the ghost world, which he can access because of his supernatural powers.
It doesn’t take long before Asanee, who has become the bureaucratic incarnation of the Grim Reaper, begins abusing his power by taking the lives of terminally ill patients who beg for his help to end their suffering. Meanwhile, Nakun secretly plots against her husband with her lover while the omniscient Stanley waits to come to He’s rescue.
Audiences are likely to starting fidgeting in their seats 10 minutes into this film, filled with the unsettling feeling that they are watching a movie made up of nothing more than far-fetched plot twists and dull images that barely support the narrative. The viewer begins to question whether even one of The Fatality’s oversized ensemble of directors had any sense of how to construct a story.
Looking either sullen or bewildered throughout the film, the performances from Mando-pop singer Wu Ke-qun (吳克群), Taiwanese actor Matt Wu (吳中天) and Sakhakorn of Thailand are consistently dull.
A word of advice to aspiring directors in the music video and television commercial business such as Kuang Shen (鄺盛): before venturing into cinema, think twice about your goals and, at the very least, develop a directing methodology that suits feature films.
Every now and then, it’s nice to just point somewhere on a map and head out with no plan. In Taiwan, where convenience reigns, food options are plentiful and people are generally friendly and helpful, this type of trip is that much easier to pull off. One day last November, a spur-of-the-moment day hike in the hills of Chiayi County turned into a surprisingly memorable experience that impressed on me once again how fortunate we all are to call this island home. The scenery I walked through that day — a mix of forest and farms reaching up into the clouds
With one week left until election day, the drama is high in the race for the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair. The race is still potentially wide open between the three frontrunners. The most accurate poll is done by Apollo Survey & Research Co (艾普羅民調公司), which was conducted a week and a half ago with two-thirds of the respondents party members, who are the only ones eligible to vote. For details on the candidates, check the Oct. 4 edition of this column, “A look at the KMT chair candidates” on page 12. The popular frontrunner was 56-year-old Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文)
“How China Threatens to Force Taiwan Into a Total Blackout” screamed a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) headline last week, yet another of the endless clickbait examples of the energy threat via blockade that doesn’t exist. Since the headline is recycled, I will recycle the rebuttal: once industrial power demand collapses (there’s a blockade so trade is gone, remember?) “a handful of shops and factories could run for months on coal and renewables, as Ko Yun-ling (柯昀伶) and Chao Chia-wei (趙家緯) pointed out in a piece at Taiwan Insight earlier this year.” Sadly, the existence of these facts will not stop the
Oct. 13 to Oct. 19 When ordered to resign from her teaching position in June 1928 due to her husband’s anti-colonial activities, Lin Shih-hao (林氏好) refused to back down. The next day, she still showed up at Tainan Second Preschool, where she was warned that she would be fired if she didn’t comply. Lin continued to ignore the orders and was eventually let go without severance — even losing her pay for that month. Rather than despairing, she found a non-government job and even joined her husband Lu Ping-ting’s (盧丙丁) non-violent resistance and labor rights movements. When the government’s 1931 crackdown