As a standalone, Detention holds its own as an easily-understandable, horror-tinged psychological drama about government oppression during the White Terror era. Set in 1962, it will be applauded for brutally displaying the horrors of life under martial law, when one could be jailed and even executed just for reading and disseminating banned books, and one misstep could cause dozens to disappear.
It’s a very likeable film, with atmospheric and layered visuals that are chilling but not downright terrifying. The plot offers just enough supernatural and horror elements yet mainly focuses on the dramatic and emotional, and it lays bare and bloody the period of authoritarian rule.
Many Taiwanese have family stories regarding the White Terror that they kept hidden, as it remained a taboo topic until recent decades. Those on the other end of the political divide will undoubtedly hate the film and claim that it is exaggerated to demonize the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT).
Photos courtesy of 1 Production Film Company
It’s inevitable that a movie version of Detention would be made after the game took the Internet by storm in January 2017, even becoming a big hit overseas after it became available on the Steam platform.
It was a big-name production from the start. Former actress Lee Lieh (李烈), whose production credits include 2010’s hit Monga (艋舺) and 2015’s The Laundryman (青田街一號), co-produced with Aileen Li (李耀華), who coordinated the shooting in Taipei of Luc Besson’s Lucy as well as John Woo’s (吳宇森) The Crossing (太平輪).
Director John Hsu (徐漢強) became the youngest director to win a Golden Bell in 2005, and most recently created the acclaimed VR movie Your Spiritual Temple Sucks (全能元神宮改造王), which won Best Innovative Storytelling at last year’s World VR Forum in Switzerland.
Compared to the video game by Red Candle Games that the movie is based on, something feels missing. Though impossible to reproduce a game that takes hours to play on the big screen, the film seems to have simplified things just a bit too much, eschewing the slow-building suspense and subtlety that made the game such a joy to play.
In the game, players infer the essence of the era by finding evidence — patriotic writings on the wall and a student handbook that calls for students to “rat out anyone who may be pro-Communist or show signs of treachery.” Through tackling puzzles and gathering evidence, what really happened to the school is pieced together.
In the movie, everything is handed to the audience from the opening scene, and the bulk of the story takes place as real-life flashbacks instead of in the haunted school. As a result, the suspense suffers, as there is little mystery-solving by the characters. It’s understandable that the director took a different approach, focusing on the human aspect and exploring how people behave and handle their desires under a strictly controlled society.
The result still works as a solid psychological piece featuring a love-triangle that may even dig deeper into the human psyche than the game. It’s just not much of a horror or mystery film, which seems to be what many were expecting.
While it’s already obvious enough that the game is set in the White Terror era, the movie seems to amplify the elements to the point that it seems too intentional.
Taiwan was no paradise in the 1960s, and the government did do terrible things, but it wasn’t a bleak 1984-esque society where there was no hope or happiness. Despite this, the movie mentions very little of the politics that created such an environment.
Probably the most disappointing difference from the game is that the traditional Taiwanese elements that really gave Detention its unique flavor are mostly removed, save for a one hand puppet that appears in a few scenes.
In the game, for example, characters are attacked by hungry ghosts, whom the player avoids by placing a bowl of rice with incense sticks on the ground and walking away while holding their breath. In the film, the only monsters are military police with mirrors for faces.
The soundtrack also resembles more of a standard suspense film than the original, which samples religious ritual music.
Nevertheless, it’s the kind of film that will actually draw Taiwanese audiences away from Hollywood blockbusters, and will likely become one of the most popular domestic films of the year. That’s what Taiwan needs if it is to continue growing its fast-improving cinema industry.
Sept.16 to Sept. 22 The “anti-communist train” with then-president Chiang Kai-shek’s (蔣介石) face plastered on the engine puffed along the “sugar railway” (糖業鐵路) in May 1955, drawing enthusiastic crowds at 103 stops covering nearly 1,200km. An estimated 1.58 million spectators were treated to propaganda films, plays and received free sugar products. By this time, the state-run Taiwan Sugar Corporation (台糖, Taisugar) had managed to connect the previously separate east-west lines established by Japanese-era sugar factories, allowing the anti-communist train to travel easily from Taichung to Pingtung’s Donggang Township (東港). Last Sunday’s feature (Taiwan in Time: The sugar express) covered the inauguration of the
The corruption cases surrounding former Taipei Mayor and Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) head Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) are just one item in the endless cycle of noise and fuss obscuring Taiwan’s deep and urgent structural and social problems. Even the case itself, as James Baron observed in an excellent piece at the Diplomat last week, is only one manifestation of the greater problem of deep-rooted corruption in land development. Last week the government announced a program to permit 25,000 foreign university students, primarily from the Philippines, Indonesia and Malaysia, to work in Taiwan after graduation for 2-4 years. That number is a
This year’s Michelin Gourmand Bib sported 16 new entries in the 126-strong Taiwan directory. The fight for the best braised pork rice and the crispiest scallion pancake painstakingly continued, but what stood out in the lineup this year? Pang Taqueria (胖塔可利亞); Taiwan’s first Michelin-recommended Mexican restaurant. Chef Charles Chen (陳治宇) is a self-confessed Americophile, earning his chef whites at a fine-dining Latin-American fusion restaurant. But what makes this Xinyi (信義) spot stand head and shoulders above Taipei’s existing Mexican offerings? The authenticity. The produce. The care. AUTHENTIC EATS In my time on the island, I have caved too many times to
In the aftermath of the 2020 general elections the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) was demoralized. The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) had crushed them in a second landslide in a row, with their presidential candidate Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) winning more votes than any in Taiwan’s history. The KMT did pick up three legislative seats, but the DPP retained an outright majority. To take responsibility for that catastrophic loss, as is customary, party chairman Wu Den-yih (吳敦義) resigned. This would mark the end of an era of how the party operated and the beginning of a new effort at reform, first under