Every movie involves two realities, the one onscreen and the one in the theater, and the interplay between the two is sometimes dynamic. The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 has all the usual virtues of a good action suspense drama, but it lacks that extra something — that context, that vital interchange — that made the original The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 such a memorable experience in 1974.
So, an evil mastermind decides to hijack a subway train and hold up the city of New York for an enormous ransom. Today, we watch and think, sure, that could happen. There are bad people in the world, and anybody could become the victim of some random, senseless act of violence.
But in 1974, this premise was received in a much different way, not as an outlandish scenario that could happen, but as a variety of madness that probably would happen, sooner or later, because everything was falling apart. You know the litany: Vietnam. Then Watergate. New York City was going broke. Just getting into a subway car was dangerous, even without kidnapers or hostage takers. Back then, civilization seemed to be heading off a cliff, and New York, always on the cutting edge of fashion, looked destined to hit bottom first. Thus, The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 was more than a suspense drama in 1974; it was a vision of urban apocalypse.
Today we have our own visions of the apocalypse — terrorism, civic catastrophe, economic collapse — and this new Pelham might have gotten some extra juice had it tapped into those. But the remake eschews the social context that made the original so compelling. Instead of a terrorist for a villain, or someone equally mysterious, the movie gives us a lone nut and his small band of thugs.
Still, despite some odd choices on the part of the filmmakers, this remake works out better than one might expect. For example, picture John Travolta playing a mentally unbalanced, emotionally erratic homicidal maniac. Then go to The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3 and be surprised. Travolta does not go into his charming bag of tricks. He doesn’t smile or laugh (or even scowl like the guy in Pulp Fiction.) In fact, on three occasions watching him I had to remind myself that this was Travolta. He takes a baseline pretty-good movie and, through sheer conviction, makes it a little better than that.
So does Denzel Washington. He plays the transit officer manning the controls for that sector of the New York subway system, who’s the first to make contact with the hijacker (Travolta). Washington lends the character a specifically New York type of working man’s diffidence — he’s a regular guy in way over his head, forced to improvise — and we watch him grow, not in confidence but in moral authority. This is strong, convincing character work.
Credit some of that to Tony Scott. He’s a director known for his bombast, and rightly so, but unlike the overbearing generation of Tony Scott imitators that have taken root in the past 20 years, this director never forgets the human element.
Taiwan has next to no political engagement in Myanmar, either with the ruling military junta nor the dozens of armed groups who’ve in the last five years taken over around two-thirds of the nation’s territory in a sprawling, patchwork civil war. But early last month, the leader of one relatively minor Burmese revolutionary faction, General Nerdah Bomya, who is also an alleged war criminal, made a low key visit to Taipei, where he met with a member of President William Lai’s (賴清德) staff, a retired Taiwanese military official and several academics. “I feel like Taiwan is a good example of
“M yeolgong jajangmyeon (anti-communism zhajiangmian, 滅共炸醬麵), let’s all shout together — myeolgong!” a chef at a Chinese restaurant in Dongtan, located about 35km south of Seoul, South Korea, calls out before serving a bowl of Korean-style zhajiangmian —black bean noodles. Diners repeat the phrase before tucking in. This political-themed restaurant, named Myeolgong Banjeom (滅共飯館, “anti-communism restaurant”), is operated by a single person and does not take reservations; therefore long queues form regularly outside, and most customers appear sympathetic to its political theme. Photos of conservative public figures hang on the walls, alongside political slogans and poems written in Chinese characters; South
Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an (蔣萬安) announced last week a city policy to get businesses to reduce working hours to seven hours per day for employees with children 12 and under at home. The city promised to subsidize 80 percent of the employees’ wage loss. Taipei can do this, since the Celestial Dragon Kingdom (天龍國), as it is sardonically known to the denizens of Taiwan’s less fortunate regions, has an outsize grip on the government budget. Like most subsidies, this will likely have little effect on Taiwan’s catastrophic birth rates, though it may be a relief to the shrinking number of
Institutions signalling a fresh beginning and new spirit often adopt new slogans, symbols and marketing materials, and the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is no exception. Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文), soon after taking office as KMT chair, released a new slogan that plays on the party’s acronym: “Kind Mindfulness Team.” The party recently released a graphic prominently featuring the red, white and blue of the flag with a Chinese slogan “establishing peace, blessings and fortune marching forth” (締造和平,幸福前行). One part of the graphic also features two hands in blue and white grasping olive branches in a stylized shape of Taiwan. Bonus points for