With a dizzying array of offerings ranging from acclaimed international productions to fuzzy vintage curiosities to experimental performance theater, it’s always hard to know where to start with the Taiwan International Documentary Festival (TIDF).
It’s even a tougher task for the preliminary judges, who each sifted through between 200 and 300 submissions, then argue their cases against other judges before whittling the final list down to 45.
To help the audience out, judge Sun Sung-jung (孫松榮) gave his top picks for the international competition section at a talk earlier this month. Erased: Ascent of the Invisible is a conceptual and philosophical piece exploring the forgotten or covered-up victims, sites and atrocities of the Lebanese Civil War, while The Makavejev Case or Trial in a Movie Theater examines the public debate held in 1971 Yugoslavia on whether the controversial film WR: Mysteries of the Organism should be banned.
Photo courtesy of Taiwan International Documentary Festival
Sun also mentions the only Taiwanese selection, Huang Pang-chuan’s (黃邦銓) 18-minute Last Year When the Train Passed by (去年火車經過的時候). Huang snapped a few photos while riding on a train in France, and later returned to the scene of each photograph to ask if locals residents remembered what they were doing at that moment.
Delayed for a year because of COVID-19, the 12th edition of the film festival kicks off tomorrow with nearly 140 productions from across the world. In addition to the main competition section, which is separated into international, Asia and Taiwan portions, there are plenty of special screening programs as well as events, performances and talks across Taipei.
For the Taiwanese portion of the competition, festival coordinator Chen Wan-ling (陳婉伶) recommends Flow (伏流), a stream-of-consciousness exploration of the neighborhoods near Taipei’s Treasure Hill Artist Village (寶藏巖國際藝術村) and their residents. Housing (買房子賣房子) delves into Taiwan’s real estate business and examines its underlying capitalist values while juxtaposing it with images of protests against the forced demolition of homes. Gubuk focuses on escaped migrant workers, but what’s special is that the workers are involved in the creative process.
Photo courtesy of Taiwan International Documentary Festival
This year’s festival places a special spotlight on Hong Kong. The opening film, Inside the Red Brick Wall (理大圍城), follows the dramatic two-week standoff in November 2019 at Hong Kong’s Polytechnic University between protests and police, and more can be seen in the special program “Salute! Independent Documentaries in Hong Kong and China.”
Retro fans are in for a treat, as there are two sections dedicated to the grainy images of Taiwan’s yesteryear. “Indigenous with a Capital I” is devoted to the first wave of Aborigine-shot documentaries made between 1994 and 2000, while “Fragrant Formosa” (芬芳台灣) features digitally restored pieces from the television series of the same name that aired in the 1970s and 1980s. Shot on 16mm film, selections include the 1975 Dajia Matsu Pilgrimage and a 1977 mullet roe harvest in the south.
The festival also pays tribute to Lee Meng-che (李孟哲), known for his pieces on social and labor movements, and Mickey Chen (陳俊志), an LGBTQ film pioneer and writer. Both died in 2018, and a special section features their work along with similarly-themed international offerings. Of note is Chen’s unfinished adaptation of his autobiographical novel Taipei Dad, New York Mom (台北爸爸,紐約媽媽), which was discovered after his death and shown for the first time at the 2019 Golden Horse Film Festival.
Photo courtesy of Taiwan International Documentary Festival
Photo courtesy of Taiwan International Documentary Festival
Photo courtesy of Taiwan International Documentary Festival
For a time, it became popular to describe the tactics of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) in encroaching on sovereignty and militarizing islands in the South China Sea as “salami slicing.” Those slices have been getting chunkier. The People’s Liberation Army has been increasing its navy and air force activities in the region. The Chinese Coast Guard has likewise been ramping up their activities, and the civilian paramilitary People’s Armed Forces Maritime Militia has been backing up the navy and coast guard with alarming swarming maneuvers. The PRC claims most of the South China Sea through its U-shaped 10-dash
For most train journeys, where you are going is the main consideration. On the Shanlan train (山嵐號) in eastern Taiwan, however, it’s not the “where” but the “how” that matters. On this pricey but meticulously crafted train journey running between Hualien and Taitung County’s Chihshang (池上), what you’re paying for isn’t to get from Point A to Point B, but rather a sensory, aesthetic and cultural experience. On the platform, the train stands out vividly next to the other Taiwan Railway carriages. Its exterior is painted in a yellow-green gradient intended to blend harmoniously with the ripening rice paddies of the East
The comical bit of parachute journalism by Simon Shuster in the Atlantic last week under the title “Will Taiwan Just Give Up?”, drew much attention for its numerous minor errors, largely forgivable, its total lack of understanding of Taiwan and its history and its strange, pro-China interpretations, including taking Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) seriously. The laughter and indignation that essay generated among Taiwan aficionados is an indicator of how far Western journalism on Taiwan has come. Twenty years ago, it would have been another piece for the pile. Today, it is an obvious outlier. Shuster’s piece was
For a small nation, Taiwan has an unusually long list of territorial disputes. In part or in whole, it has disputes over the Spratly Islands (Nansha Islands, 南沙群島) with Vietnam, the Philippines, Malaysia and Brunei. It also has another territorial dispute with Vietnam over the Paracel Islands, and with Japan over the Senkaku Islands (Diaoyutai Islands, 釣魚台). Of course, the biggest territorial disputes are with the People’s Republic of China (PRC), which not only claims all of the above, but also Pratas Island (Dongsha, 東沙島), Kinmen, Penghu and all of Taiwan itself. This creates considerable headaches politically for the government, especially