The Romance of Astrea and Celadon
This is apparently the final film of 87-year-old French New Wave icon Eric Rohmer, and is being shown here straight after its European release. Based on a 17th-century novelist's idyllic tale of rural people and customs some 1,000 years earlier, Rohmer's stagey adaptation offers rustic romance with a touch of fantasy and even cross-dressing. Audiences unfamiliar with Rohmer's uncompromising filmmaking might find this one very odd.
Naraka 19
The title for this Hong Kong horror confection translates into The 19th Level of Hell. The Buddhist concept of hell has 18 levels, each with different punishment. In this case, however, some impressionable young Hong Kong women are about to stumble on an extra level via a demonic game. Based on an Internet novella by Cai Jun (蔡駿), Carol Lai Miu-suet's (黎妙雪) film did not make waves at home, but is notable for weaving text messaging and other marketable Internet-era diversions into its narrative.
Apartment 1303
Another movie with hellish stuff involving numbered titles and young women in supernatural peril, this time from Japan. A young woman suspects the death of her sister had more to it than high-density urban living, and moves into the apartment of the title. What follows is a retread of successful Japanese horror flicks in recent years - not to mention any number of Western shockers - and few reviewers have had anything good to say about it. Movie stills point to a low budget and no innovation.
Last week saw the appearance of another odious screed full of lies from the People’s Republic of China (PRC) Ambassador to Australia, Xiao Qian (肖千), in the Financial Review, a major Australian paper. Xiao’s piece was presented without challenge or caveat. His “Seven truths on why Taiwan always will be China’s” presented a “greatest hits” of the litany of PRC falsehoods. This includes: Taiwan’s indigenous peoples were descended from the people of China 30,000 years ago; a “Chinese” imperial government administrated Taiwan in the 14th century; Koxinga, also known as Cheng Cheng-kung (鄭成功), “recovered” Taiwan for China; the Qing owned
When 17-year-old Lin Shih (林石) crossed the Taiwan Strait in 1746 with a group of settlers, he could hardly have known the magnitude of wealth and influence his family would later amass on the island, or that one day tourists would be walking through the home of his descendants in central Taiwan. He might also have been surprised to see the family home located in Wufeng District (霧峰) of Taichung, as Lin initially settled further north in what is now Dali District (大里). However, after the Qing executed him for his alleged participation in the Lin Shuang-Wen Rebellion (林爽文事件), his grandsons were
I am kneeling quite awkwardly on a cushion in a yoga studio in London’s Shoreditch on an unseasonably chilly Wednesday and wondering when exactly will be the optimum time to rearrange my legs. I have an ice-cold mango and passion fruit kombucha beside me and an agonising case of pins and needles. The solution to pins and needles, I learned a few years ago, is to directly confront the agony: pull your legs out from underneath you, bend your toes up as high as they can reach, and yes, it will hurt far more initially, but then the pain subsides.
When Angelica Oung received the notification that her Xiaohongshu account had been blocked for violating the social media app’s code of conduct, her mind started racing. The only picture she had posted on her account, apart from her profile headshot, was of herself wearing an inflatable polar bear suit, holding a sign saying: “I love nuclear.” What could be the problem with that, wondered Oung, a clean energy activist in Taiwan. Was it because, at a glance, her picture looked like someone holding a placard at a protest? Was it because her costume looked a bit like the white hazmat suits worn
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