AAIFF ’14: Song of the Phoenix

Dewey Redman often played the suona, but he was amazing. Sadly, Chinese musicians who have mastered the traditional trumpet-like reed instrument are becoming rather scarce. Yet, an aging master’s chosen successor will try to carry on as best he can in Wu Tianming’s final film, Song of the Phoenix (trailer here) , which screens during the 2014 Asian American International Film Festival in New York.

Young You Tianming’s underwhelming lung power is a distinct drawback for the unforgiving suona. On the other hand, he has the heart and sensitivity of an artist. During his years of youthful study, You often thought he was playing second fiddle to his fellow apprentice, Lanyu. Yet their master Jiao Sanye chooses You to learn the “Song of the Phoenix.” Considered the apex of suona repertoire, the song is a requiem that masters will only play for the worthiest deceased.

Unfortunately, just as Tianming assumes the leadership of Jiao’s ensemble, demand for suona musicians plummets. Instead, the villagers of his region increasingly opt for western-style bands. With his health failing, Master Jiao has trouble understanding the macro dynamics threatening the suona tradition.

It is almost eerie how apt Phoenix is as a summing up film for the late Wu. Perhaps best known for King of Masks, the “Fourth Generation” filmmaker is arguably even more renowned for incubating “Fifth Generation” talent (notably including Chen Kaige and Zhang Yimou) when tapped to lead the Xi’an Film Studios. He also spent several years in America as an informal exile following the Tiananmen Square crackdown. Clearly, he had a keen understanding of time’s passage and the need to mentor successive generations.

Tao Zeru is quite extraordinary as Master Jiao, evolving from the coldly manipulative Prof. Kingsford of the suona into an ailing former legend, struggling to make sense of the world that has passed him by. Li Mingcheng is almost painfully earnest as the adult You. They are surrounded by a talented supporting ensemble and some first-rate suona players.

Suona music might be an acquired taste, but it nicely accents Phoenix’s incredible backdrops, which often look like scenes from ancient watercolors. Frankly, the film does not hold many surprises in terms of narrative arc or character development, but it still gracefully critiques the ultra-modern go-go prejudices that have lost sight of long-esteemed Chinese musical and cultural practices. Truly lovely to look at, Song of the Phoenix is worth seeing (particularly by those who appreciate Wu’s position in the Chinese cinema pantheon) when it screens tonight (7/29) at the Village East, as part of this year’s AAIFF.

AAIFF ’14: The Cotabato Sessions (short doc)

Experimental percussionist Susie Ibarra is as comfortable playing with downtown stalwarts like John Zorn and Dave Douglas as she is with the indigenous Maguindanaon musicians of Cotabato City in Mindanao. However, she plays the role of an Alan Lomax field recorder, documenting the music of Danongan Kalanduyan and his friends and family in Ibarra & Joel Quizon’s short documentary The Cotabato Sessions (trailer here), which screens before a special concert collaboration between Ibarra and her subjects during this year’s Asian American International Film Festival.

The heart of the Maguindanaon music Ibarra records is the kulintang, a series of eight tuned gongs, but it also incorporates the lute-like kutiyapi. It rather follows that percussion is a critical component to this form of music, predating Christianity and Islam in the Philippines, given Ibarra’s interest. Somewhat surprisingly though, it has been integrated into Maguindanaon Islamic social customs, despite its traditional association with women musicians.

Ibarra and Quizon capture some passionate performances, but the pulse of percussion-driven ensembles is always best experienced live. Still, it is quite a cinematic presentation, particularly the performances filmed in the open courtyard of a local mosque (but not technically inside, because that would be forbidden).

Ibarra’s commitment to musical preservation is laudable and Quizon and cinematographer Maya Santos make it all look great on-screen. Yet, we cannot help wondering what it sounds like when she jams with her Maguindanaon colleagues, which is why Cotabato is probably best screened in conjunction with a live performance, much like its upcoming AAIFF presentation. Recommended for fans of so-called “World Music” and percussion ensembles beyond category, the Cotabato Sessions screening, performance, and Q&A session will commence this Wednesday night (7/30) at the Asia Society, as a programming highlight of this year’s festival.

AAIFF ’14: A Time in Quchi

There is a different rhythm to life in the Quchi countryside. Chang Tso-chi acclimates viewers to it far quicker than his ten year old protagonist. Kuan Hsiao-pao is used to Taipei’s high speed internet, but a summer spent with his traditional grandfather will have lasting significance in Chang’s A Time in Quchi (trailer here), which screens during this year’s Asian American International Film Festival in New York.

At this point, Kuan is used to his parents’ chaos, so their likely divorce is not exactly shocking. He will spend his summer vacation with his paternal grandfather, so his folks will have more time to quarrel, but he is rather put off by the old man’s highly structured lifestyle. He is also less than thrilled when his chop-busting younger sister “Seaweed” arrives sometime later.

Since this is Taiwan, kids still go to school even during summer vacation, so Kuan is duly enrolled at the village primary school. Not surprisingly, he is initially rather standoffish, but Kuan soon forms his first real friendship with Huang Ming-chuan, an aboriginal classmate. Unfortunately, just as Kuan embraces Quchi, tragedy strikes.

Quchi is a subtle and wistful coming of age story that showcases some extraordinarily natural young actors. However, it must be completely compartmentalized from Chang, who is essentially the Taiwanese Polanski, except he is not being sheltered from justice by the French government. Frankly, it is a little creepy to realize the incident he was convicted for occurred at a party for Quchi, but that is not the fault of Yang Liang-yu and his co-stars.

While Yang’s work might be too understated for those who like to bring their Fault in Our Stars branded hanky to the movies, he keeps what could have been a saccharine melodrama feel mature and grounded. He also rather graciously allows Lin Ya-jo to steal all of Seaweed’s scenes. Nonetheless, it is veteran actor-screenwriter Kuan Yun-lung (a.k.a. Kuan Kuan) who really gives the film its heart and integrity as the gruff but wise grandfather.

Even at the height of young Kuan’s city slicker culture shock, he can appreciate the natural beauty of Quchi’s rivers and foothills. Cinematographer Yuan Ching-kuo certainly did as well. Visually, it is a much more arresting, big canvas film than you would expect from the coming-of-age genre. It represents nice work from a large cast and creative crew that should not be tarnished by Chang’s subsequent scandal. Recommended for those who appreciate quiet but telling family dramas, A Time in Quchi screens this coming Monday (7/28) at the Village East, as part of the 2014 AAIFF.

AAIFF ’14: The Rice Bomber

He represented the dark side of agrarianism in a way the Unabomber could relate to, but at least Yang Rumen took precautions to avoid injuries. The fully pardoned bomb-maker turned organic food activist’s creation story is chronicled in Cho Li’s The Rice Bomber (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 Asian American International Film Festival in New York.

By working class standards, Yang’s father did okay selling chickens in the city, but the young man always identified with his rice farming grandparents. He spent his formative years on their farm and it is there he returns after his military discharge. Yang almost went Full Metal Jacket on the NCOs who persistently bullied him, suggesting he is wound rather tightly.

With Taiwan’s rural economy stagnating, Yang migrates back to the city, becoming a street hawker. That is where he meets a preteen aboriginal competitor and reconnects with his childhood sweetheart, “Troublemaker.” She lives off her gangster-politician father, but fancies herself a revolutionary. Yet, she balks whenever Yang asks her to assist his new friend’s three younger siblings. Slowly, Yang’s environmental and class consciousness grows, but his engagement takes a quantum leap when tragedy strikes. At least, he carefully labels his bombs and judiciously minimizes their potency.

For a film that starts with a bomb disposal scene, Rice is surprisingly talky and cerebral. Clearly, it would rather discuss agricultural policy than indulge in a car chase, but its analysis basically boils down to “they are out to get the farmers.” Arguably though, most of the leftist demonstrators come across just as kneejerk and clueless as the government bureaucrats. The intermittent time shifts do not exactly do any favors for clarity either. Nevertheless, there is something fascinating about Yang’s slow descent into mad-ish-ness, even when the hardscrabble realities depicted on-screen clash with Peyman Yazdanian’s sentimental score.

Indeed, Cho’s dispassionate approach is likely to leave many viewers cold, but the lack of cheap grandstanding is rather refreshing. There are the odd moments here and there, such as Yang marveling at the cache of guns Troublemaker has scrounged, for no practical purpose. Yet, it mostly feels docu-real.

As Yang, Huang Chien-wei slow burns like a champion, convincingly showing his evolution from victim to self-styled avenger. Nikki Hsieh’s Troublemaker also consistently keeps viewers off-balance, while Michael Chang is admirably earnest and understated as Yang’s mildly underdeveloped younger brother, Tung-tsai.

Having previously helmed the underappreciated adultery thriller Zoom Hunting (a 2010 AAIFF selection), Cho once again shows a knack for subverting genre expectations. While Rice probably will not radicalize any viewers who were not already teetering on the brink, it definitely captures the messy bedlam of contemporary history. Consistently interesting (but not for those looking for simple stories and simplistic take-aways), The Rice Bomber screens tomorrow (7/26) at the Village East and Sunday (7/27) at the Made in NY Media Center, as part of this year’s AAIFF.

AAIFF ’14: Iranian Shorts Program

If the cast and crew of an Iranian film chose to work under conditions of anonymity, it usually a good sign you are about to watch something bold and challenging. While that is not the case for these filmmakers, based in either Iran or America, most of their assembled films reveal much about the state of Iranian society. Alienation and uncertainty are themes cropping up throughout the Iranian Shorts Program, which screens during the 2014 Asian American International Film Festival.

The short block gets off to a bracing start with Tara Atashgah’s For the Birds. It is not just a film—it is an indictment of Iran’s Sharia laws against adultery and those who enforce them. The title might sound comedic, but it is really a tribute. The “birds” are women like Atefeh Rajab Sahaleh, a sixteen year old girl executed for adultery in 2006, to whom the film is dedicated.

For artistic reasons, Birds is not subtitled, but it is painfully easy to follow the story nonetheless. Nazli K. Lou vividly expresses Sahaleh’s fear and bewilderment, while Chervine Namani powerfully captures the horror and impotence of a decent bystander. This is a film that will knock the wind out of people, yet visually it is quite polished and striking. Without question, it is the class of the field.

Since it is just an excerpt from a larger documentary, the sampling of Nahid Rezai’s Dream of Silk is sort of an apple among oranges. Still, the fatalism and lack of confidence in the future expressed by the high school girls she interviews at her Iranian alma mater is undeniably telling. The whole thing is probably worth seeing.

Clearly, Hamed Rajabi’s Turnabout and To Ride a Bicycle are intended to be seen in dialogue with each other. Both address the exile experience following the 2009 election protests and subsequent crackdown from different perspectives. Arguably, Bicycle is the stronger of the pair, following Mahsa as she struggles to dispose of the bike her former boyfriend precipitously left behind. Of course, she cannot ride it. That would be immodest. Turnabout does not quite have the same pop, but Rajabi conveys a strong sense of place, observing a soon to be exile fruitlessly searching for friends at his former university to say goodbye to.

Given it brevity, Mohammad Farahani’s The Theft is difficult to discuss without giving the whole game away. Regardless of the O.Henry-esque development, it depicts the grim realities of poverty, particularly those endured by women, in no uncertain terms.

After For the Birds, Anahita Ghazvinizadeh’s When the Kid was a Kid is likely to generate the most heated response. It is probably safe to say Taha has sexual identity issues, perhaps stemming from a problematic relationship with his often absent divorced mother. When the other kids in his apartment building play dress-up, Taha dons his mother’s dresses and make-up. Just what he gets out of the process remains ambiguous, but it is striking how readily the other children accept him as “Shohreh.” It is brave lead performance, but the entire youthful ensemble is quite engaging and unaffected.

The Iranian Short Block ends with another ringer. Frankly, Assal Ghawami’s A Day in Eden is respectably earnest and boasts a very fine performance from Briana Marin, but the American-set story of an Iranian cellist encountering an extremely difficult nursing home patient does not really speak to realities of contemporary Iranian life.

There is a lot viewers can glean and digest from the Iranian Shorts Program, especially the eye-opening For the Birds and the patient but forceful To Ride a Bike. Recommended for connoisseurs of short films and Iranian cinema, it screens this Saturday (7/26) at the Village East, as part of this year’s AAIFF.

AAIFF ’14: Awesome Asian Bad Guys

You will definitely recognize Al Leong. He was the henchman Sgt. Riggs strangled with his legs while he was administering electroshock torture in the original Lethal Weapon. That is a typical day at the office for Leong. PBS’s National Film Society set out to pay tribute to Leong and his fellow character actors with a web-series that turned into a festival film. Prepare to show all due respect when Stephen Dypiangco & Patrick Epino’s Awesome Asian Bad Guys (trailer here) screens during the 2014 Asian American International Film Festival in New York.

Internet video producers Dypiangco and Epino are on a mission to assemble an Expendables-like team of Asian action movie heavies, who will finally have the chance to be the good guys. They have two good reasons: they must protect Tamlyn Tomita (from the Karate Kid 2) and prevent commercial actor Aaron Takahasi from trying to permanently eliminate all his casting call competition.

The cool thing about AABG is how it deftly satirizes Hollywood’s Asian stereotyping while still lovingly honoring actors like Leong and George Cheung (Rambo II, Rush Hour) for making the best of a less than optimal job market. It is also mind-blowing to hear Tomita plays somebody’s mom on Glee (is that show still on?). Naturally, she makes a great damsel-in-distress and/or femme fatale. 

However, there is just too much of Dypiangco and Epino shticking it up as themselves. Frankly, there probably ought to be more action and less comedy, because that is what an Al Leong fan would want to see. Nevertheless, it is entertaining to watch the Awesome Asian Bad Guys finally get a curtain call.

Since AABG clocks in just under an hour, the AAIFF has paired it with a short featuring two fairly awesome bad guys. A pair of Yakuza are driving deep into the Mojave Desert to bury a body in Robbie Ikegami’s Pull Over to Kill. This will be the final errand for Watanabe, the soon to be retired strawberry farmer, but hot-headed Yasumoto is just starting out as a retainer. Needless to say complications ensue.

Viewers might predict the general trajectory of this two-hander, but Ikegami and cinematographer Alan Vidali make it look awfully stylish. Nor can anyone argue with Tatsuya Ito’s world weary steeliness, as Watanabe. The use of Michiko Hamamura’s “Tabu” and Saori Yuki’s “Yoaki No Scat” also vividly evoke the 1960’s vibe of many classic Yakuza pictures. In fact, POTK could even serve as an effective music video for them, inspiring post-screening downloads. It is a satisfying short that nicely fits with AABG. Recommended as a good festival package, Awesome Asian Bad Guys and Pull Over to Kill screen together tomorrow (7/25) at the Village East and Saturday at the Made in NY Media Center, as part of this year’s AAIFF.