From the trailer, Heavy Craving focuses on an obese woman who falls in love with a fit and handsome man and struggles to lose weight amidst constant ridicule about their relationship. If that’s all that this film was, it would have been a disappointing and missed opportunity to tackle a serious problem that unhealthily and unrealistically champions attractiveness.
Tsai Jia-yin (蔡嘉茵) delivers an impressive performance in her full-length debut as Yingjuan, who weighs over 100kg and whose only joy is cooking and eating. The nuances of her performance as someone who just wants to be herself but is constantly criticized and made fun of by even her mother (Samantha Ko, 柯淑勤) is deserving of a best new performer award at the Taipei Film Awards. She has been nominated in the same category for this weekend’s Golden Horse Awards.
Fortunately, the romanticisms are understated and constitute just a part of the film, and our relentlessly cheerful and caring pretty boy, Wu (Yao Chang, 張耀仁), harbors a dark secret, hitting home the point that people shouldn’t be judged solely by their appearance. Throw in cross-dressing boy Xiaoyu (Chang En-wei, 張恩瑋), whose mother believes that his behavior is a disease that needs to be cured, and the tale becomes a well-balanced and thoughtful social commentary on being oneself and fitting social expectations.
Photo courtesy of atmovies.com
However, at times it feels too much like just a social commentary, as there is little character depth outside of Yingjuan, with the supporting characters serving as different perspectives to emphasize the movie’s message. For example, Ko’s talents are wasted here. All she does is relentlessly criticize her daughter. Other people are already doing that, and Ko’s role as a harsh mother who believes that she is doing Yingjuan good could have been fleshed out a little more.
That said, the arguments are carefully considered and spelled out — from the mean-spirited neighbor who openly states that fat people are disgusting to the fitness center that represents society’s norms to Yingjuan, who along with Wu are the only people who encourage Xiaoyu not to repress himself.
In one scene, the fitness center coach (William Hsieh, 謝祖武) exclaims: “We all know that it’s what’s inside that matters, but in today’s fast paced society, people don’t have time to look at what’s inside. Would you buy a deformed fruit at the supermarket when there’s a perfect one next to it?” When a woman suggests that deformed fruit costs less, the coach asks: “Would you want someone to choose you because you’re cheaper?”
Photo courtesy of atmovies.com
That’s the unforgiving reality we live in today, and the coach does have a point. Even the encouraging Wu tells Yingjuan: “It’s too hard to change society. Why not change ourselves?” But to what extent should people who are different suppress themselves or change just to fit social expectations?
It’s a hard question that doesn’t have a simple answer. But it is something that really should be examined, especially in Taiwan where headlines comment on the attractiveness of a politician regardless of her accomplishments and agenda, and Internet users are bombarded with content featuring “hot” McDonalds staff and policewomen.
One may feel that the constant criticism and ridicule toward Yingjuan by almost everyone she meets — even by random boys playing in the park — is exaggerated. Surely people should have the common sense not to say hurtful things within earshot of the target? While the movie is definitely dramatizing for effect, it’s sadly true to a certain extent. Making fun of someone’s appearance is quite normalized — from insensitive nicknames to innocuous jokes to the unsolicited “hey, you’ve gained weight, don’t eat so much.”
Yingjuan’s pain and suffering is clearly and poignantly portrayed in the movie to the point of self deprecation. When Wu tells her she’s the first girl who’s been in his car, she laughs and says: “Oh, I count as one?”
But the most upsetting character is her mother, who is just as harsh, if not harsher, as the others. As the movie illustrates, such behavior does not help and only frustrates the person into eating more as it is the only thing that makes them immediately feel better.
This part also reflects reality. The Taiwan Millenium Health Foundation in August reported that 56 percent of survey respondents indicated that their family members have made fun of their weight, with remarks ranging from “fat pig” to “how pregnant are you?” Some reported getting sneered at by family members every time they eat a snack.
Director Hsieh Pei-ju (謝沛如), who has also struggled with weight issues, should be lauded for tackling this important topic. It’s encouraging to see more mainstream Taiwanese movies addressing social issues that are often overlooked. Despite the movie’s character deficiencies, Hsieh managed to put together an entertaining ride, and that’s often the only way to get people to pay attention to serious issues.
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