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.
As mega K-pop group BTS returns to the stage after a hiatus of more than three years, one major market is conspicuously missing from its 12-month world tour: China. The omission of one of the group’s biggest fan bases comes as no surprise. In fact, just the opposite would have been huge news. China has blocked most South Korean entertainment since 2016 under an unofficial ban that also restricts movies and the country’s popular TV dramas. For some Chinese, that means flying to Seoul to see their favorite groups perform — as many were expected to do for three shows opening
Taiwan’s semiconductor industry consumes electricity at rates that would strain most national grids. Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC) alone accounted for more than 9 percent, or 2,590 megawatts (MW), of the nation’s power demand last year. The factories that produce chips for the world’s phones and servers run around the clock. They cannot tolerate blackouts. Yet Taiwan imports 97 percent of its energy, with liquefied natural gas reserves measured in days. Underground, Taiwan has options. Studies from National Taiwan University estimate recoverable geothermal resources at more than 33,000 MW. Current installed capacity stands below 10 MW. OBSTACLES Despite Taiwan’s significant geothermal potential, the
In our discussions of tourism in Taiwan we often criticize the government’s addiction to promoting food and shopping, while ignoring Taiwan’s underdeveloped trekking and adventure travel opportunities. This discussion, however, is decidedly land-focused. When was the last time a port entered into it? Last week I encountered journalist and travel writer Cameron Dueck, who had sailed to Taiwan in 2023-24, and was full of tales. Like everyone who visits, he and his partner Fiona Ching loved our island nation and had nothing but wonderful experiences on land. But he had little positive to say about the way Taiwan has organized its
The entire Li Zhenxiu (李貞秀) saga has been an ugly, complicated mess. Born in China’s Hunan Province, she moved to work in Shenzhen, where she met her future Taiwanese husband. Most accounts have her arriving in Taiwan and marrying somewhere between 1993 and 1999. She built a successful career in Taiwan in the tech industry before founding her own company. She also served in high-ranking positions on various environmentally-focused tech associations. She says she was inspired by the founding of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) in 2019 by Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), and began volunteering for the party soon after. Ko