The beginning of Get The Hell Out (逃出立法院) features the following disclaimer: “If you choose the wrong movie, you only have to wait 90 minutes; if you choose the wrong legislator, you have to wait four years.”
The people certainly chose the wrong lawmakers in this absurd satirical romp, as an ill-fated government scheme to get rich through an international venture (they call it ‘diplomacy’ here, of course) literally turns the entire legislative body, as well as the president, into bloodthirsty zombies.
Get The Hell Out is a relentless caricature of the nation’s fight-happy Legislative Yuan, government bureaucracy, rabid media industry and other issues such as authorities colluding with corporations to raze villages and build harmful factories. Director Wang I-fan (王逸帆) doesn’t just satirize the infamous legislature, he pokes fun at a wide range of uniquely Taiwanese phenomena, and one would need to be very familiar with the nation’s pop culture, web celebrities and recent sociopolitical events to get all the references in this film. If you don’t, the film is just another gory and campy zombie movie that is not worth your time.
Photo courtesy of CPT Entertainment
The film was slated for release in April, but the COVID-19 pandemic pushed it back until last week, which actually makes it even more relevant as the Legislative Yuan descended into violence again last month over Chen Chu’s (陳菊) appointment as Control Yuan president. The themes of (zombie) pandemic control and “Taiwan Can Help” would also resonate a lot more with audiences now than in four months ago.
Stylistically, Get The Hell Out is Taiwanese mainstream cinema’s trademark over-the-topness taken to the extreme as the characters use video game moves to fight infected Taoist priests and machine-gun toting Centers of Disease Control staff, and it also takes a page from Western cult movies with tons of blood and exaggerated sequences.
The nonstop zaniness gets tiring, though, especially in the middle of the film where much screen time is wasted on brainless battle and chase scenes. One would expect more given the loaded premise and scathing first half, as the plot gets caught up in its own shenanigans and loses its way. At points, it seems like Wang is just using the Legislative Yuan as a pretext to make a crazy zombie flick, whereas he should have been using the zombie pandemic as a device to delve deeper into government and social dysfunction.
Despite the missed opportunities, the movie still entertains overall, and serves as an example of where these otherwise tired tropes make sense, as there’s no better way to criticize the already ridiculous phenomena of brawling legislators than with even more ridiculousness.
The leads are Ying-ying (Megan Lai, 賴雅妍), a legislator dedicated to saving her hometown from being turned into a factory who loses her job after a beating up a paparazzi, and Yu-wei (Bruce Hung, 禾浩辰), a meek Legislative Yuan security guard who unexpectedly replaces Ying-ying and is caught between the warring factions. Of course, besides the zombies, the heroes also have to deal with the corrupt gangster-politician Li (Wang Chung-huang, 王中皇) who wears a bright magenta suit and struts around with his crew of bizarrely-dressed lackeys who call themselves “The Better Generation.”
Wang smartly steers clear of political factions, making the conflict more of a good-versus-evil between politicians who act out of greed and those who actually want to help society.
Amidst the chaos, Wang still tries to deliver an uplifting message about identifying with and protecting one’s homeland, whether it be a threatened seaside village or the entire nation. With many Taiwanese disillusioned in their country and wanting to “get the hell out,” Wang’s sentiment is definitely relevant, but this theme does not come through strongly enough and is buried in the frenetic action.
The transformation of top politicians — including the president — into zombies ultimately allows voters a second chance at choosing the right candidates, but will their replacements simply continue the ways of their predecessors? The nation’s legislators have been exchanging blows since the 1980s. Will things in Taiwan ever change? Is it worth staying and trying to make a difference? These are valid questions that Wang does explore — one just wishes he would have toned down the action just a bit to make more room for contemplation.
Just after 6am, I walked up to the ticket gate at Taipei Main Station and entered the Taiwan Railway platform without scanning any ticket; instead, I flashed the Sanrio Fun Rail pass on my phone to the gate worker and was admitted. I found my train and prepared to board. My destination? This very same station. I was embarking on a 13-hour journey on one of two round-the-island trains operated by ezTravel. They run each day, one counterclockwise around the island and one clockwise. They differ in a number of ways from an ordinary Taiwan Railway train and can make for
Jason Han says that the e-arrival card spat between South Korea and Taiwan shows that Seoul is signaling adherence to its “one-China” policy, while Taiwan’s response reflects a reciprocal approach. “Attempts to alter the diplomatic status quo often lead to tit-for-tat responses,” the analyst on international affairs tells the Taipei Times, adding that Taiwan may become more cautious in its dealings with South Korea going forward. Taipei has called on Seoul to correct its electronic entry system, which currently lists Taiwan as “China (Taiwan),” warning that reciprocal measures may follow if the wording is not changed before March 31. As of yesterday,
The Portuguese never established a presence on Taiwan, but they must have traded with the indigenous people because later traders reported that the locals referred to parts of deer using Portuguese words. What goods might the Portuguese have offered their indigenous trade partners? Among them must have been slaves, for the Portuguese dealt slaves across Asia. Though we often speak of “Portuguese” ships, imagining them as picturesque vessels manned by pointy-bearded Iberians, in Asia Portuguese shipping between local destinations was crewed by Asian seamen, with a handful of white or Eurasian officers. “Even the great carracks of 1,000-2,000 tons which plied
On Thursday, former Taipei mayor and founder of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) Ko Wen-je (柯文哲) was sentenced to 17 years in prison and had his civil rights suspended for six years over corruption, embezzlement and other charges. Seven others related to the case were also handed prison sentences, while two were found not guilty. It has been a bad week for the TPP. On Tuesday, prosecutors charged Chinese immigrant Xu Chunying (徐春鶯) with suspicion of taking part in Beijing-directed election interference. Xu has strong links to the TPP, which once offered her a party list legislator nomination. Tuesday also
RSS