Chang Chih-yung’s (張志勇) first feature since his multiple award-winning 2000 film Lament of the Sand River (沙河悲歌) sort of meanders along with few highs and lows, but the narrative is gripping enough with sprinkles of quirkiness and absurdities that it will keep the audience’s attention until the end.
You’re just not quite sure where the film is heading throughout most of its 111 minutes, but something about it keeps you watching, whether it be the mysteriousness of Japanese recluse Ando (Hibino Akira), uniquely Taiwanese scenes such as protagonist Tzu-hsu (廖亦崟) throwing his flip flops as divination blocks to decide whether he should call the girl of his dreams or the sheer absurdity of the inspirational chants employed at multi-level marketing seminars.
These elements are juxtaposed against a calm, contemplative cinematic atmosphere with a plot that revolves around past trauma, love and letting go, creating something quite unique. The director hits all the elements that tug at the heart strings, including a Tzu-hsu’s cute and precocious niece who charms all the characters and even drives them to epiphanies. The film contains some stereotypical Taiwanese cinema elements such as over-the-top or overtly-heartwarming dialogue, but they take place sparingly and are always purposeful.
Photo courtesy of atmovies.com
The film is mostly shot in a fishing village with lots of local flavor, which greatly contrasts visually with the picturesque, fantasy-like house that Ando lives on at the top of the hill. And the two worlds collide when Tzu-hsu’s bike breaks down, prompting the usually reclusive Ando to offer him help. While Ando harbors past grief, Tzu-hsu is dealing with his own as he tries to make money to save his sister Tzu-hsi (Chung Yao, 鍾瑤) who is dying from leukemia — and the two form an unlikely bond.
Tying everything together, strangely enough, is the bizarre and almost cult-like business of multi-level marketing, which Tzu-hsu accidentally stumbles into after a series of coincidences. For those who are not familiar with this business, the film is an eye-opener. It’s almost frightening how the inspirational seminars are conducted, with the speaker chanting all kinds of slogans that drive people to want more money.
“Are you satisfied with making NT$100,000 a month? The answer should be no,” the speaker shouts as he leads the crowd into a frenzy.
Photo courtesy of atmovies.com
Exactly how the business anchors the story involves spoiling the movie, so we can’t do that. But the chants, the sheer enthusiasm and the way everyone eventually gets involved (there’s even a romantic scene that plays upon multi-level marketing) is quite comical, which gives some gusto to a movie that would otherwise be a bit too depressing. But it also forms some of the disingenuity in the film, such as how gung-ho people’s attitudes become regarding the business — even though they vehemently refused to take part just a few scenes earlier.
The biggest question is what is the point of this film? As mentioned before, even to the very end you’re not too sure where the movie is going. It has a bit of everything — a decent story, strong local flavor and is definitely entertaining — but something just seems to be lacking that prevents it from taking the leap from a decent film to a great one. You even feel a bit empty when you leave the theater. Was that really supposed to be a heart-warming family drama or was it just a thinly-veiled promotional video for multi-level marketing?
Finally, it’s no doubt that Taiwan and Japan have a deep connection, and Ando’s identity as a Japanese man is essential to the plot. But someone should do a research paper on the sheer number of movies that emphasize the friendship and love between people of the two nations. This reviewer does not follow Japanese cinema, so it’s valid to wonder: is this relationship just one-way, or do Japanese people feel the same and make the same type of movies?
That US assistance was a model for Taiwan’s spectacular development success was early recognized by policymakers and analysts. In a report to the US Congress for the fiscal year 1962, former President John F. Kennedy noted Taiwan’s “rapid economic growth,” was “producing a substantial net gain in living.” Kennedy had a stake in Taiwan’s achievements and the US’ official development assistance (ODA) in general: In September 1961, his entreaty to make the 1960s a “decade of development,” and an accompanying proposal for dedicated legislation to this end, had been formalized by congressional passage of the Foreign Assistance Act. Two
Despite the intense sunshine, we were hardly breaking a sweat as we cruised along the flat, dedicated bike lane, well protected from the heat by a canopy of trees. The electric assist on the bikes likely made a difference, too. Far removed from the bustle and noise of the Taichung traffic, we admired the serene rural scenery, making our way over rivers, alongside rice paddies and through pear orchards. Our route for the day covered two bike paths that connect in Fengyuan District (豐原) and are best done together. The Hou-Feng Bike Path (后豐鐵馬道) runs southward from Houli District (后里) while the
March 31 to April 6 On May 13, 1950, National Taiwan University Hospital otolaryngologist Su You-peng (蘇友鵬) was summoned to the director’s office. He thought someone had complained about him practicing the violin at night, but when he entered the room, he knew something was terribly wrong. He saw several burly men who appeared to be government secret agents, and three other resident doctors: internist Hsu Chiang (許強), dermatologist Hu Pao-chen (胡寶珍) and ophthalmologist Hu Hsin-lin (胡鑫麟). They were handcuffed, herded onto two jeeps and taken to the Secrecy Bureau (保密局) for questioning. Su was still in his doctor’s robes at
Mirror mirror on the wall, what’s the fairest Disney live-action remake of them all? Wait, mirror. Hold on a second. Maybe choosing from the likes of Alice in Wonderland (2010), Mulan (2020) and The Lion King (2019) isn’t such a good idea. Mirror, on second thought, what’s on Netflix? Even the most devoted fans would have to acknowledge that these have not been the most illustrious illustrations of Disney magic. At their best (Pete’s Dragon? Cinderella?) they breathe life into old classics that could use a little updating. At their worst, well, blue Will Smith. Given the rapacious rate of remakes in modern
RSS