The White Terror is one of the most fraught and controversial episodes in Taiwanese history, and the fact that it has been picked as the setting for Hong Kong-based Taiwanese director Yonfan’s (楊凡) lushly romantic period drama Prince of Tears (淚王子) is arguably in rather dubious taste, an offense the director aggravates with a glib sentimentality that can best be described as political terror as soap opera.
Putting aside this fundamental issue, which may well be sufficient to put some people off the film, it is only fair to say that the visual aesthetic is not uninteresting (relying heavily on supersaturated colors and airbrush effects that Taiwan’s wedding photographers are likely to appreciate), though so self-consciously artistic that it often loses touch with any sense of reality and at times verges on self-parody.
The story centers on Sun (Joseph Chang, 張孝全), a handsome and loyal Air Force officer who lives with his second wife Ping (Zhu Xuan, 朱璇) in what must be one of the neatest little veterans’ villages, or juan cun (眷村), ever to have been built. They have two daughters, one by his previous wife. A close family friend Ding (Wing Fan, 范植偉) has a bit of a yen for Ping, but spends most of the movie with a sour look and a Phantom of the Opera facial disfigurement that is so profoundly fake that one expects him to take it off at any time.
The idyllic life of Sun and his wife begins to unwind when they fall under suspicion of being Communist sympathizers. Sun is taken off and shot, while Ping secures her safety by marrying Ding, who is implicated in her husband’s death. In this harsh world, compromises need to be made.
Sun’s youngest daughter is close friends with the daughter of Madame Ou-Yang Liu (Terri Kwan, 關穎), a former girlfriend of Sun’s, and possibly a former lover of Ping’s. She is now married to a general, but has dark secrets hidden in her past. And this is just the tip of a very large and murky iceberg. It is remarkable that although Prince of Tears is supposedly based on, or at least inspired, by a real story, every transition seems contrived, and the emotional responses of the characters are often rather bewildering.
A narrated voiceover by the director keeps the plot on track, and also relieves the cast from the painful necessity of acting out the story. Ou-Yang looks an absolute dish in her lavish period costumes, and Joseph Chang is also likely to find an appreciative audience, but this is all pop idol glam-infused camera work without even a hint of depth.
Yonfan tries for a mood of tragedy, but what he ends up with is a sort of high camp period drama that cares more about recreating a mythology and wallowing in nostalgia than it does about looking at the past. In an interview quoted in the publicity materials, Yonfan said that he did not re-create the period. “I create with my memories of the past and make something that you have never seen before,” he said.
If that was his goal, then Prince of Tears may be accounted a success of sorts, but for the most part it is turgid stuff made worse by its artistic and historical pretensions. Some of the most interesting footage is the documentary material — recordings, film and photos — that plays at the opening of the film and accompanies the credits at the end. This at least seems to be about something more than Yonfan’s own fevered imaginings.
Cheng Ching-hsiang (鄭青祥) turned a small triangle of concrete jammed between two old shops into a cool little bar called 9dimension. In front of the shop, a steampunk-like structure was welded by himself to serve as a booth where he prepares cocktails. “Yancheng used to be just old people,” he says, “but now young people are coming and creating the New Yancheng.” Around the corner, Yu Hsiu-jao (饒毓琇), opened Tiny Cafe. True to its name, it is the size of a cupboard and serves cold-brewed coffee. “Small shops are so special and have personality,” she says, “people come to Yancheng to find such treasures.” She
Late last month Philippines Foreign Affairs Secretary Theresa Lazaro told the Philippine Senate that the nation has sufficient funds to evacuate the nearly 170,000 Filipino residents in Taiwan, 84 percent of whom are migrant workers, in the event of war. Agencies have been exploring evacuation scenarios since early this year, she said. She also observed that since the Philippines has only limited ships, the government is consulting security agencies for alternatives. Filipinos are a distant third in overall migrant worker population. Indonesia has over 248,000 workers, followed by roughly 240,000 Vietnamese. It should be noted that there are another 170,000
In July of 1995, a group of local DJs began posting an event flyer around Taipei. It was cheaply photocopied and nearly all in English, with a hand-drawn map on the back and, on the front, a big red hand print alongside one prominent line of text, “Finally… THE PARTY.” The map led to a remote floodplain in Taipei County (now New Taipei City) just across the Tamsui River from Taipei. The organizers got permission from no one. They just drove up in a blue Taiwanese pickup truck, set up a generator, two speakers, two turntables and a mixer. They
Hannah Liao (廖宸萱) recalls the harassment she experienced on dating apps, an experience that left her frightened and disgusted. “I’ve tried some voice-based dating apps,” the 30-year-old says. “Right away, some guys would say things like, ‘Wanna talk dirty?’ or ‘Wanna suck my d**k?’” she says. Liao’s story is not unique. Ministry of Health and Welfare statistics show a more than 50 percent rise in sexual assault cases related to online encounters over the past five years. In 2023 alone, women comprised 7,698 of the 9,413 reported victims. Faced with a dating landscape that can feel more predatory than promising, many in
RSS