On a show like The Wire, policemen and criminals belong to competitive organizations locked in uneasy, permanent coexistence. In We Own the Night, James Gray's operatic new film, the police and drug dealers are imagined as warring tribes in a fight to the death. The Russian gangsters on one side appear ready to take out the entire NYPD. And some of the cops are just as eager to forgo the legal niceties and do some righteous killing of their own.
In other words, We Own the Night is not a procedural, in which the narrative is threaded through details of the job and close observations of big-city life. It is, rather, a bloody, passionate melodrama, self-consciously Shakespearean - or Biblical, or Greek, take your pick of atavisms - in its intentions.
At the enter are two brothers: Joseph Grusinsky (Mark Wahlberg), a clean-cut, ambitious family man rising quickly through the ranks of the department, and Bobby Green (Joaquin Phoenix), who has forsaken the family surname and who manages a raucous nightclub in Brooklyn.
PHOTO: COURTESY OF CMC
Cain and Abel; the ant and the grasshopper. Bobby and Joseph present, at least at first, wildly contrasting temperaments as well as divergent career choices. Joseph takes after their father, Burt (Robert Duvall), a high-ranking officer who can barely contain his disappointment and disgust when Bobby is in the room. But Bobby, while he may be as irresponsible as his father and brother think he is, also has a sweet, impulsive, hedonistic side. He shows it in an early scene of sexual bliss with his girlfriend, Amada (Eva Mendes), and in the way he bounces through his cavernous club and into the apartment of its owner, a grandfatherly Russian named Buzhayev. Bobby is loving, and also lovable.
But he is also a traitor. Much as he may revel in the company of his surrogate family, the claims of blood are stronger. When Buzhayev's gangster nephew Vadim (Alex Veadov) causes Joseph to be hurt, Bobby puts away his childish sense of fun and gets down to the grim business of settling scores.
As this happens, the life begins to leak out of We Own the Night, and out of Phoenix's performance.
There is nothing especially interesting or new in the film. We Own the Night is set in 1988, a wilder and more dangerous time in the city's history. But in spite of a few historically apt musical selections and a digitally enhanced cameo appearance by former mayor Ed Koch, this is less a period movie than an exercise in free-floating nostalgia.
It's not nostalgia for any particular time or place, but rather for a mythical, tribal America where the obligations of clan trump individual desires. An index of Bobby's betrayal is that he has adopted his mother's maiden name, and his attempt to escape into a life of easy pleasure, social mobility and self-invention is doomed from the start. Where he ends up is where he always belonged.
In the March 9 edition of the Taipei Times a piece by Ninon Godefroy ran with the headine “The quiet, gentle rhythm of Taiwan.” It started with the line “Taiwan is a small, humble place. There is no Eiffel Tower, no pyramids — no singular attraction that draws the world’s attention.” I laughed out loud at that. This was out of no disrespect for the author or the piece, which made some interesting analogies and good points about how both Din Tai Fung’s and Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co’s (TSMC, 台積電) meticulous attention to detail and quality are not quite up to
April 28 to May 4 During the Japanese colonial era, a city’s “first” high school typically served Japanese students, while Taiwanese attended the “second” high school. Only in Taichung was this reversed. That’s because when Taichung First High School opened its doors on May 1, 1915 to serve Taiwanese students who were previously barred from secondary education, it was the only high school in town. Former principal Hideo Azukisawa threatened to quit when the government in 1922 attempted to transfer the “first” designation to a new local high school for Japanese students, leading to this unusual situation. Prior to the Taichung First
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) hatched a bold plan to charge forward and seize the initiative when he held a protest in front of the Taipei City Prosecutors’ Office. Though risky, because illegal, its success would help tackle at least six problems facing both himself and the KMT. What he did not see coming was Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (將萬安) tripping him up out of the gate. In spite of Chu being the most consequential and successful KMT chairman since the early 2010s — arguably saving the party from financial ruin and restoring its electoral viability —
The Ministry of Education last month proposed a nationwide ban on mobile devices in schools, aiming to curb concerns over student phone addiction. Under the revised regulation, which will take effect in August, teachers and schools will be required to collect mobile devices — including phones, laptops and wearables devices — for safekeeping during school hours, unless they are being used for educational purposes. For Chang Fong-ching (張鳳琴), the ban will have a positive impact. “It’s a good move,” says the professor in the department of