NYAFF ’16: The Boys Who Cried Wolf

If acting really constitutes lying, then Ji Wan-ju is the Korean Laurence Olivier. He gave up the stage, but he still does a strange kind of public performance as an escort, phony best friend, and miscellaneous real life role-player for hire. Usually, he stays on the right side of the law, but when he agrees to “act” as a witness in a murder investigation, he finds himself materially abetting a frame-up in Kim Jin-hwang’s The Boys Who Cried Wolf (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Ji always had a bad feeling about the gig, but his sister needed money to pay for their mother’s hospital bills. His new freelance client claims to be the corporate CEO mother of a murder victim. Supposedly, the killer is a loner orphan who will be released without eyewitness testimony linking him to the crime. However, Ji is rather rattled to meet the mother of the accused after giving his statement. Wracked with guilt, but reluctant to recant and risk legal consequences, Ji sets about investigating the murder himself.

By all accounts, the accused was the least likely suspect. Among his group of recent military discharges, he was maybe the most even-keeled one. Unfortunately, the deceased’s history of hazing his presumptive killer is clearly prejudicial. The quick-tempered Kwang-suk looks like a much more likely suspect, but his modest means could hardly support the conspiracy afoot. Further complicating matters, the suicide of a recent escort client brings Ji additional police attention, at the worst possible time.

Although Wolf definitely counts as a thriller, it is unusually gritty and understated. It could easily be adapted for the stage, but its street-level perspective lends the film greater urgency. Kim’s quietly grungy aesthetic is much closer to David Mamet than Alfred Hitchcock. Still, he keeps hurling one-darned-thing-after-another at Ji and earns serious points for originality with the profession of his string-pulling villain. Weirdly enough given its peerlessly indie credentials, Wolf is actually a refreshing counterpoint to the heavy-handed anti-corporate bias of other Korean films at this year’s festival.

Park Jong-hwan is almost too understated as Ji, but his delivery of the film’s kicker is tough to shake off. At least, Song Ha-joon brings ferocious energy and intensity as the edgy Kwang-suk. Cha Rae-hyoung is also entertainingly sleazy as Ji’s agency boss and pseudo-friend.

All relationships are indeed quite problematic in Wolf, but it is not a nihilistic film. In fact, it strenuously argues there a moral order to our world, while forgiving it characters myriad flaws, on humanistic grounds. As a result, it is all quite low-key, but compelling. Recommended for discerning audiences, The Boys Who Cried Wolf screens tomorrow (7/9) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ‘16: Keeper of Darkness

Being haunted by a ghost that looks like Amber Kuo does not sound so bad. In fact, it is rather pleasant. So much so, moving on will be an issue for both the spirit of Cherr and Wong Wing-fatt, the gritty exorcist she “haunts” (for lack of a better term). However, hastening the departure of a very angry vengeance-seeking ghost will take priority over personal karma issues in Nick Cheung’s Keeper of Darkness (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Wong lives on the margins of society, largely maintaining nocturnal hours. He will accept exorcism gigs, but he also seems to have an ambiguous affiliation with a local triad. After video of his latest ghost-busting goes viral, aspiring writer Fong Zi-ling approaches the mystery man, hoping for some sensational dish. She will get way, way more than she bargained for.

The vaguely Lurch looking Hark has been seeking out psychics, demanding they find the man responsible for the brutal murder of his family and killing them when their dubious gifts are exposed. Recognizing Wong is the real deal (The Force is strong in this one), Hark gives him a three-day deadline. With Fong’s research assistance, Wong delves into the 1969 murders, but he intends to disperse Hark rather than facilitate his revenge. However, the clock is also ticking with respect to his relationship with Cher. After years spent lingering on our plane, she is finally due to reincarnate in the days to come. Yet, she worries about leaving Wong alone.

While there is plenty of spooky Hong Kong ghost movie atmospherics going on in Keeper, it builds towards a surprisingly poignant climax, in the tradition of Richard Matheson’s relationship-driven films and novels (such as What Dreams May Come). The pseudo-love triangle-ish kind of thing that develops between Wong, Cherr, and Fong is emotionally intelligent and totally credibly (given the fantastical circumstances). Frankly, Keeper packs a wallop when it fully reveals Wong and Cherr’s backstory.

For his second directorial outing, HK superstar Nick Cheung creates a rather messy world, but there is an eerie logic to it. We have seen plenty of ghost films before, but he and screenwriter Yeung Sin-ling give the genre at least three or four fresh twists. He also looks massively weird with bleach blond hair.

As the ghostess with the mostess, Kuo puts the Demi Moore movie to shame with her sensitive, downright ethereal performance. Newcomer Sisley Choi plays Fong with an appropriate blend of moxie and skittishness. Former Shaolin monk Xing Yu (a.k.a. Shi Yanneng) unleashes a death stare for Hark that makes potted plants and small animals wither and die. Plus, there are at least half a dozen big name stars making appearances in various states of death or possession.

Arguably, Cheung drags things out five or ten minutes past the point the end titles should have been rolling, but it is still a nifty supernatural thriller. There are some genuinely creepy sequences, but it is character that really powers the film. Highly recommended for fans of Cheung and genre-bending horror films, Keeper of Darkness screens this Saturday (7/9) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: A Violent Prosecutor

When prosecuting a case, Byun Jae-wook bangs on the facts when the facts are on his side and he bangs on the law when the law is on his side. When he gets stuck, he bangs on heads, making him all too vulnerable for a nasty frame-up job in director-screenwriter Lee Il-hyeong’s A Violent Prosecutor (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

It all started when a politically connected and mobbed-up (is there really any difference?) development company sends a pack of provocateurs to crash an environmental protest. In the ensuing melee, a police officer is badly hurt. That was not necessarily part of the plan, but it turns public opinion on a dime. Byun smells a rat, so he does his best to intimidate an asthmatic suspect into confessing. The lowlife idiot was fine when he left him, but he is inconveniently dead when Byun returns in the morning, with nary an inhaler in sight.

The massively corrupt former deputy chief prosecutor-turned congressional candidate Woo Jong-il completes the frame-up by disposing of the inhaler and conning Byun into a guilty plea. Byun will spend the next five years behind bars, but he will have plenty of time to work on his case. There is only so much Byun can do from his cell, but pretty boy con artist Han Chi-won will reluctantly serve as his proxy in exchange for successfully masterminding his appeal.

VP is another monster box-office hit for Hwang Jung-min, making him one of the most bankable stars in the world. It is also immediately reassuring to see him strut into a picture. He is constitutionally incapable of being dull, perhaps because even when he plays good guys, there is always something slightly off about him. Prosecutor Byun is a perfect case in point.

Although Gang Dong-won got most of the press for his lightweight Axel Foley act, it is the old pros who really shore up VP. Frequent heavy Park Sung-woong (terrific in For the Emperor) adds rich layers of nuance and uncertainty as Yang Min-woo, the ambitious prosecutor tempted to do the right thing. Likewise, Lee Sung-min raises calculated clamminess to an art form as the villainous Woo.

VP starts somewhat slowly and it is more than a little heavy handed, but the second and third acts are deliciously entertaining. Lee pulls off one reversal after another, steadily raising the stakes which each deal. The results are fun and cathartic. Recommended for fans of “wrong man” thrillers, A Violent Prosecutor screens tomorrow (7/8) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: The Sound of a Flower

You could say the real life trailblazer Jin Chae-sun made BoA and Bae Su-zy possible. Like Gwyneth Paltrow in Shakespeare in Love, Jin scandalized Joseon Korea when it was revealed she really was a woman playing a woman on stage. Unfortunately, the Prince Regent Heungseon Daewongun was a much tougher audience than Queen Elizabeth. Nevertheless, fate will not let her voice stay silenced for long in Lee Jong-pil’s The Sound of a Flower (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Up until the late 1800s, public singing was a man’s business, except of course for kisaeng, but their performances mostly took place in private. As fate would have it, Jin’s dying mother leaves her in the care of a kisaeng house, where she serves as the maid. While still grieving her mother, the young Jin is struck by a piece of pansori, a traditional form of Korean opera and story-telling, whose young tragic heroine bears a striking resemblance to herself. The leader of the troupe, Shin Jae-hyo also makes quite an impression.

Recognizing her passion for singing, Jin approaches Shin when she reaches something like adulthood, but the grouchy pansori master promptly turns her away. Undaunted, Jin opts for the Shakespearean option, gaining admittance to Shin’s academy by passing for a man. Naturally, the truth will out, but by that time Shin starts believing in her talent. He plans to hasten progressive social change by winning a national singing tournament in the capital, but alas, the prince regent is not as reformist as he had assumed.

Flower is a perfectly respectable film, but it never rises above the level of a well-meaning but compulsively safe period piece. While Paltrow is androgynous enough to credibly bend her gender, K-pop star Bae Su-zy is not the least bit manly. Nevertheless, she is so earnest and openly vulnerable, she definitely gives us something to keep watching. Oddly, master brooder Ryoo Seung-ryong is uncharacteristically flat as Shin, but Song Sae-byeok adds some attitude and non-shticky comic counterpoint as Shin’s primary accompanist, Kim Se-jong.

Obviously, women were eventually allowed to sing in Korea and it sort of started with Jin. It is a good story, but Lee bizarrely loses confidence in it, piping in some generically saccharine soundtrack music over her climatic performance. Frankly if you do not believe Jin’s vocals can carry the moment, you probably shouldn’t be making this film in the first place. Regardless, Bae is a radiant presence, especially when Jin is at her saddest. There is also probably just enough tragic longing to satisfy fans of Korean dramas. Nice but not transcendent, The Sound of a Flower screens tomorrow (7/7) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: HK2 Abnormal Crisis

Basically, Kyosuke Shikijo is the fetish version of Peter Parker. Yes, he from Japan. Why do you ask? Like Spiderman’s alter-ego. Shikijo is a sad sack college student who moons over his goody two-shoes girlfriend. However, his superpowers flow from used panties rather than radioactive spiders. With great perversion comes great responsibility in Yuichi Fukuda’s HK2: The Abnormal Crisis (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

In HK1, Shikijo barely held off the evil supervillain Tamao Oogane. There was an explosion and Oogane was presumed dead, but any manga reader ought to know better than that. Flashing forward a few years, Shikijo and his girlfriend Aiko Himeno are now in college. There have not been any costumed villain sightings lately, so Himeno insists Shikijo hang up his panties (technically, they would be her panties). Of course, this leaves Japan vulnerable when Oogane’s transplanted head lets loose a campaign of terror, abetted by a vacuum cleaner-man and a giant man-crab mutant.

Shikijo will try to make do with the panties of his femme fatale biology professor, but they are just not the same. Things really look grim when Oogane latest invention starts vacuuming up all of Japan’s previously worn panties. Can this be the end of the Masked Pervert? Have faith, true believers.

It is hard to find another franchise as ludicrously tasteless as the HK series. Think of it as American Pie raised to the power of five thousand, crossed with the Marvel Universe. At times, the humor approaches the wildly inappropriate. However, it also holds to the endearing belief that true love and virtue will triumph in the end. You will be similarly hard-pressed to meet a hero as earnest as Shikijo. He just has his quirks.

You have to give Ryohei Suzuki credit for having the physique and lack of self-consciousness to don Shijiko’s panties. This time around, Ayame Misaki adds some actually sultriness as Prof. Ayata, but there is no point in pretending HK is more than what it is. The naughty, over-the-top goofiness is not just the main point, it is pretty much its only reason for being. If you enjoyed the bulging outrageousness of the first film, Fukuda and company give you even more in the sequel. Recommended for fans of wildly tasteless fare, such as HK1 and R100, HK2: The Abnormal Crisis screens tonight (7/6) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Alone

Like David Hemmings in Blow-Up, Su-min inadvertently takes a photo of a murder in progress, but he sees it right away—and they see him. The ski-masked assailants quickly start hunting the grungy witness, or so it seems. It is hard to say for sure, because reality is dicey proposition in Park Hong-min’s Alone (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Su-min is not very fleet of foot, but for some reason, the masked men choose to toy with him, rather than immediately executing him. Several times, Su-min is knocked unconscious, coming to in the darkly foreboding shanty-town district of Seoul, usually in rather awkward positions. We soon conclude Su-min is caught in some sort of looping nightmare, especially given the presence of his mother (always a dead giveaway), his girlfriend, and perhaps the eight-year-old version of himself.

It should be readily granted Alone represents a quantum step-up for Park from his underwhelming A Fish, which frankly played like the feature film version of Park Chan-wook iPhone short, Night Fishing. This time around, Park Hong-min maintains a palpably tense mood. He gets a massive assist from the wickedly atmospheric back alleys and staircases of the shanty neighborhood. It is rather entertaining to merely watch Su-min navigate the ominous passageways, which is fortunate, because he does so constantly.

Park Hong-min and his cinematographer Kim Byeong-jung do bravura work following Su-min through the ancient maze. Visually, Alone manages to be both gritty and stunning. However, Park eventually has to leave sufficient clues for the audience to add up, but he prefers to play coy until far too late in the game. Still, Lee Ju-won (who had a small part in Lee Kwang-kuk’s A Matter of Interpretation, which could be considered Alone’s more upbeat cousin) is terrific as the ever-evolving and often battered Su-min. It must have been a tricky role, considering how often Park changed the ground rules on him.

It is always encouraging to see a filmmaker significantly improve over their first films. Alone is far from a masterwork, but it is a distinctive work. New Yorkers who really see a lot of films should check it out, because it is different, but it will still befuddle anyone hung up on a conventional three-act structure. Recommended for those with adventurous tastes, Alone screens tomorrow (7/6) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Kiyamachi Daruma

Shiego Katsuura is like the Yakuza version of those terrible quadriplegic jokes ignorant grade-schoolers tell. Yet, no matter what his condition might be, leaving him angrier than you found him is probably a bad idea. Five years ago, a rival severed all four limbs, but he keeps working in Hideo Sakaki’s Kiyamachi Daruma (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Katsuura is a miserable bastard, especially if he meets you while collecting loan-shark debts. Obviously, Katsuura is no longer a kneecap-breaker, but he can still be aggressively hostile. Kenta Sakamoto, Katsuura’s long-suffering keeper, maliciously deposits his charge with delinquent debtors, who then must deal with the nontraditional gangster’s excretions and lecherous demands. If you think it sounds creepy, just wait till you see him in limited action.

Yes, we are definitely talking about a slice of Japanese extremity here. However, Sakaki and screenwriter Hiroyuki Maruno (adapting his own novel) still posit a moral universe for these characters to inhabit. For reasons we eventually learn, Sakamoto is particularly troubled by the practice of holding children accountable for their parents’ debts. He also starts to suspect the current boss, Furusawa, who inherited the Kiya town territory from Katsuura is holding back information about the fateful incident.

There is some tough stuff in Kiyamachi Daruma (Daruma being a Japanese equivalent of an inflatable punching bag clown)—and frankly Katsuura’s condition is least of it. The horrors and humiliations that befall the Arai family are deeply troubling to witness, but at least they will set off a wicked karmic chain of events.

As Katsuura, Kenichi Endo truly puts the “f” and the “u” in furious. He is one bad cat, literally on wheels. Clearly, it was a demanding performance on a physical level, but he takes quiet, burning existential rage to new levels. He is something else, but Masaki Miura and Yuichi Kimura give the film genuinely tragic Shakespearean dimension as Sakamoto and Furusawa, respectively.

If you are unsure whether Kiyamachi is for you, then you should really think twice before going. Had Takeshi Miike and the late Koji Wakamatsu ever collaborated on a Yakuza film, it might have looked something like this (and if that comparison does not mean anything to you, consider it a hint you should take). However, if you want to be challenged by a film, Kiyamachi will do it in edifying and evil ways. Recommended for hardcore fans of Yakuza and cult films, Kiyamachi Daruma screens tomorrow (7/5) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Inside Men

It is the same old story. Government is colluding with big business and big media. At least, journalistic hypocrisy gets a good going over this time around. The man who links them all together is naturally a gangster. Crossing him is a bad idea but they do it anyway in Woo Min-ho’s Inside Men (trailer here), starring Star Asia Award Recipient Lee Byung-hung, which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Not only is Lee an award recipient at this year’s festival, he has also just been invited to join the Academy, along with cinematic luminaries, such as White Chicks co-star Marlon Wayans and Melrose Place mainstay Daphne Zuniga. At least Lee makes big movies and An Sang-goo is the sort of role he can finally sink his teeth into. An built his criminal syndicate doing the dirty work of the longtime majority party. He was recruited by Lee Gang-hee, the editor of a national newspaper of selective-record.

Lately, An has been busier than ever cleaning up the messes made by Congressman Jang Pil-woo, the party’s consensus favorite to be their next presidential candidate. When called to dispose of evidence of a slash fund secretly funding Jang’s campaign, An keeps a copy for himself. Unfortunately, he lets Lee in on his game, assuming the duplicitous journalist has his back. This is a terrible mistake that will cost An a hand (literally severed old school Yakuza-style), but it will take time for the disgraced gangster to realize and accept the truth regarding his mentor.

In the meantime, An will launch a revenge plot with the remnants of his gang that will inadvertently compliment the investigation of Woo Jang-hoon, perhaps the last honest prosecutor in Korea. He has a passion for justice, but without family connections or powerful patrons, he will need to score some game-changing convictions to advance. Jang and the automotive company funding him would perfectly suit the bill.

Frankly, this is the Lee Byung-hun film we have been waiting for. Unlike the Western productions that never fully utilize his talents, Inside Men shows off his action chops as well as the seething intensity probably last fully seen in Kim Jee-woon’s bracing I Saw the Devil. Yet, An is also a flamboyant character, who lives large, which makes him fun to watch.

Lee owns the film, but Cho Seung-woo holds up his end as the violently uptight prosecutor. Lee Kyoung-young chews the scenery with abandon as Congressman Jang, but he is so conspicuously sleazy, it is hard to fathom anyone ever voting for him (unless he ran against Clinton and Trump, in which case he would be the clear lesser of evils). As the sanctimonious Lee Gang-hee, Baek Yoon-sik is more understated, but equally loathable. It is too bad Lee El does not have more screen time, because she stands out as An’s loyally accomplice, Joo Eun-hye, while Bae Sung-woo also adds heft as An’s not so loyal henchman, Park Jong-pal.

But wait, there is even more to this story. Woo has added another fifty minutes for his theatrically re-released director’s cut. It is a little surprising NYAFF did not screen the big enchilada, but the one hundred and thirty-minute version never feels incomplete or rushed. It is all totally slick and cynical, but it purrs along quite smoothly thanks in great measure to Lee Byung-hun. Recommended for fans of Lee and gangster-political thrillers, Inside Men screens this Tuesday (7/5) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Heart Attack

The only benefit Assanai “Yoon” Srisiri gets through his freelance design work is more work (but he’ll take it). Fortunately, the public hospital is reasonably affordable and the dermatology resident is pretty cute. Of course, you can’t put the moves on your doctor, especially if you’re not following her advice. Eventually, Srisiri will have to make some life decisions, such as whether he wants to have one in Nawapol Thamrongrattanarit’s Heart Attack (a.k.a. Freelance, trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Srisiri is on his fourth straight day without sleep—or is it his fifth? He is the Jedi Master of Thai freelance design, abetted by his agent, Je, who is also largely his only human contact. At least his buddy Kai often works the graveyard shift at 7-11, so they also see each other quite regularly. Not surprisingly, this lifestyle takes a toll on Srisiri’s health. Frankly, he is probably lucky it is only the rashes breaking out over his body, at least thus far.

Dr. Imm prescribes sleep, exercise, and a healthier diet, but Srisiri is reluctant to comply, fearing any slowdown in his productivity will cost him his hard-earned reputation. Yet, he also wants to show improvement for Dr. Imm, whom he has developed a confused patient crush. Naturally, his health and romantic issues come to a head just when his freelance career reaches a crossroads, because that really is how things happen in real life.

First of all, it should be noted Thai 7-11 food looks shockingly delicious, particularly the shrimp dumplings on a stock. Beyond that, Heart Attack is an unusually subtle and mature rom-com. Frankly, it is neither particularly romantic or comedic, but Thamrongrattanarit maintains such a light touch, you can’t really classify it as anything else.

As befits the ambiguity of their relationships, Sunny Suwanmethanon’s Srisiri develops some wonderfully sensitive but difficult to define chemistry with both Davika Hoorne and Thai pop idol Violette Wautier as Dr. Imm and Je, respectively. Hoorne subtly hints at the messy emotions contained beneath her aloof professionalism, while the sardonic Wautier often acts a welcome corrective to Srisiri’s moody brooding. Frankly, they both might just upstage the Suwanmethanon’s neurotic Srisiri.

Heart Attack also probably rings a generational bell in Thailand and greater Southeast Asia, but it won’t have such resonance here. Instead of navel-gazing and voting for free stuff, Srisiri and Peng (the rival biting at his heels) work like dogs. Arguably, American Gen X’ers will better identify with it than Millennials. Yet, even if viewers cannot relate personally, the smart, charismatic performances are still immediately engaging. Highly recommended, Heart Attack (a.k.a. Freelance) screens tonight (7/3) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Grace

Who could ever expect the combination of the internet, fetishism, and teenage jealousy would end so badly? Like the Spanish Inquisition, nobody expects the ruthlessness of this former social media/cosplay idol turned stark raving mad serial killer. Being cuter than her is a dangerous proposition in Ornusa Donsawai & Pun Homchuen’s grisly Grace (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

This monster was not born, she was forged by the abuse and humiliation we witness in flashbacks. On the other hand, reigning internet idol Care really seems to be the sweet kid she presents herself to be. There is a reason why her BFF/webmaster Ple is so loyal to her. Unfortunately, that rubs Grace (formerly Koi) the wrong way. After murdering a platonic guy pal, Care will torment the two teenagers, goading Jack, her pervy computer geek protector to commit some absolutely heinous acts.

There is no getting around the rough violence of Grace. By the same token, there is no missing the spectacular fireworks unleashed by Apinya Sakuljaroensuk as Grace. She might just be the horror villainess of our age. Her meltdowns are a thing to behold, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch her go to work on Care and Ple. On the other side of the coin, Napasasi Surawan and Hataichat Eurkittiroj just look distressingly distressed as Care and Ple, respectively.

By its nature, this film is just a tricky act to pull off. Frankly, the sadistic cruelty meted out is just no fun whatsoever. Yet, if Donsawai & Homchuen had watered it down to any extent, the film might have flirted with kitsch. They clearly decided to err on the side of the courage of their convictions. As a result, nobody can question their artistic integrity or the earnestness of their critique of unfettered social media and Millennial nihilism. Yet, like the Mo Brothers’ Killers, Grace will just wear you down.

Regardless, Grace is heck of a calling card for Donsawai & Homchuen, Sakuljaroensuk, and the rest of the youthful cast, just as Killers was for the Mo’s. It might just be too much of a potent thing. Recommended with reservations for hardy horror fans, Grace screens tomorrow (7/3) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: The Tag-Along

She could be considered Taiwan’s version of the Slender Man. Purported internet videos of the so-called “Little Girl in Red” silently following hiking parties and reports of her leading stragglers astray have built her into a potent urban legend. She makes the forest a scary place, but she finally starts trekking into the city in Cheng Wei-hao’s The Tag-Along (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

When a senior citizen goes missing, it might be Red Riding Hood’s fault—at least partially. She is most likely a “mosien” or forest ghost that often takes the form of a child or monkey (we are told), but she might really just be a cog in a larger supernatural wheel. Regardless, workaholic real estate agent He Zhi-wei and his adult contempo radio DJ girlfriend Shen Yi-jun are initially happily oblivious to viral ghost girls and elemental spirits. They work hard, but take their relationship slow, which suits her better than him. In fact, his growing impatience causes fissures between them, but they will put it all aside when He’s grandmother mysteriously disappears.

It seems she vanishes in much the same way her friend did—and eventually reappears in similar fashion. Unfortunately, He soon disappears in like manner, only to haunt Shen’s dreams and waking visions as a macabre insect-gorging specter. To find him, Shen will face things going bump in the night and follow his cold trail into a forest that radiates malevolence, in the Aokigahara tradition.

The film’s basis in urban legend/internet meme is admittedly pretty creepy, so it is rather disappointing when screenwriter Jian Shi-geng opens the story up to less-defined cosmically woo-woo-ish paranormal agencies. In fact, the intimate focus on personal relationships is what elevates Tag-Along. Otherwise, it would be a rather standard evil forest horror film.

In fact, Shen and He’s relationship feels credibly “lived-in.” Likewise, He’s guilt over taking his missing grandmother for granted is rather quite poignant. Yet, Cheng and Jian really crank up the emotional resonance when they reveal the reason for Shen’s commitment phobia. However, the source of her guilt probably guarantees Tag-Along will not get picked up for American distribution, for fear of converting viewers to social conservatism.

Regardless, lead Hsu Wei-ning (of Italian-Taiwanese heritage) is poised to break-out huge, because Tag-Along did boffo business in Taiwan and Shen is indeed the proactive protag. River Huang is more or less adequate as He, but established veterans Liu Yin-shang and Zhang Bo-zhou really deliver for Cheng as the grandmother and the security guard who assists Shen’s investigation. The latter seems to have an inexhaustible supply of firecrackers (they scare the spirits), which is good prepping on his part.

Without question, Tag-Along works better when it operates in an urban setting. Cheng makes Taipei 101 look like a Tolkienesque tower an insidiously builds the tension in the pre-war, gentrifying apartment spaces. However, there is a lot of tromping through mossing trails when he takes the action into the woods. Arguably, the film starts out vibing like Juno Mak’s eerie Rigor Mortis, but morphs into something closely akin to the okay but not exceptional The Forest. Still, if you enjoy a good Blumhouse, Cheng uncorks enough to be worth your while. Recommended for rabid horror fans, The Tag-Along screens tomorrow (7/3) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Yellow Flowers on Green Grass

Young love never ends well, but in this case, more than hearts get broken. Consider this fair warning: it will be downright painful to watch misunderstandings metastasize into corrosive jealousy. The results are tragic for two rural Vietnamese brothers in Victor Vu’s adaptation of Nguyen Nhat Anh’s YA novel, Yellow Flowers on Green Grass (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Thieu is the older brother, but in many ways he is the more awkward and insecure one. Nevertheless, Tuong duly looks up to his older sibling and often covers for his mistakes. At least Thieu is an excellent student, who might be able to study his way to a better life. However, he is pretty clueless when it comes to girls. Everyone knows he has a crush on the somewhat younger but cherubically cute Moon. Yet, his early attempts to woo her are woefully embarrassing. Somehow he seems to make a little progress, until outside events get in the way.

Poor Moon is in for a rough patch. Her missing father is presumed to have contracted leprosy and her family’s home is damaged in a fire. When she temporarily moves in with Thieu’s family, it ought to be a golden opportunity for the love-struck lad. Instead, Moon’s rapport with the bratty Tuong, who happens to be closer to her age, leads to miscommunication and resentment on Thieu’s part.

Thanh Mỹ and Trọng Kang are so sweetly innocent looking as Moon and Tuong, it really hurts to watch them suffer Thieu’s escalating tantrums. Sadly though, it is all rather believable, thanks in large measure to Thinh Vinh’s agonizingly realistic lead performance. Yet, Vu and co-screenwriter Viet Linh allow for the possibility of hope and redemption through an escape hatch of apparent magical realism.

All the young cast-members of Yellow Flowers are frighteningly effective, including the three principals, as well as Mỹ Anh, who plays Nhi, a distressed young girl who happens to bear a close resemblance to Moon. They are always deeply in character, expressing some raw emotions. On the other hand, hardly any of the adults registers to any significant extent, but what can you expect? This film is W.C. Fields’ worst nightmare, except instead of a dog, Tuong has a pet toad.

Dramatically and aesthetically, Yellow Flowers is somewhat akin to the films of the Iranian New Wave. While it focuses on children, the themes and imagery are probably best appreciated by mature viewers. K’Linh Nguyen rich yet delicate lensing also brings to mind Mark Lee Ping-Bing’s masterful work with Tran Anh Hung, which is high praise indeed. Vu has had his share of controversies over the last few years, but he should rebound decisively with this pastoral fable. Recommended for those who appreciate the beauty in tragedy, Yellow Flowers on Green Grass screens tomorrow (7/2) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Honor Thy Father

In retrospect, maybe it wasn’t such a bright idea for a major film festival in the Philippines to allegedly put the fix in against a film co-starring a sitting Filipino congressman. Nor was it such a hot idea to do Erik Matti dirty, as the resulting congressional hearings made clear. Matti was already probably the most important Filipino filmmaker whose films are widely attended by average, everyday people (as opposed to the Slow Cinema of Lav Diaz, for instance). His profile only increased with the controversial but legitimately gripping Honor Thy Father (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Edgar is not exactly a Hallelujah kind of guy, but he endures the rather Evangelical Catholic mega-church preferred by his wife Kaye. As a currently reformed crook, he can also smell something is wrong with his father-in-law’s investment scheme, but he holds his tongue on the condition Kaye does not invest their savings. Of course, she does exactly that, right before the old man turns up dead and the Ponzi scheme crashes. Rather inconveniently, Kaye is now the public face of the scam, which leads to tense stand-offs with the angry mob. However, things really get ugly when their daughter Angel is kidnapped by restitution seekers.

With the Church telling them God will provide, Edgar turns to his criminal family, including his class warrior brother maybe not so ironically played by former Rep. (now Santa Rosa City Mayor-elect) Dan Fernandez. To satisfy the politically-connected kidnappers, Edgar needs six million dollars. That is a lot of cash to find lying around, but he knows the high-handed Bishop Tony is at the peak of his fund-raising push. Suddenly, things take a caperish turn as Edgar and his brothers plot to tunnel and blast their way into Bishop Tony’s coffers.

Matti sort of returns to the noirish action territory of his international hit On the Job, but he is clearly looking to score points against some big targets, including the Catholic Church and Madoff-style financial flimflammery. Yet, to some extent, the business with the Metro Manila Film Festival partially overshadowed its intended polemics. Still, it is worth noting Matti never lets anyone off the hook. In general, the film mostly supports the notion “you can’t cheat an honest man.” Both Edgar and Kaye recognized there was something fishy about the old man’s pyramid scheme, but she got greedy and fell for the lure of easy money.

Deliberately and defiantly playing against type, rom-com heartthrob John Lloyd Cruz does career best work as the intense, soul-haunted Edgar. He is a monster brooder closely akin to Arnold Reyes in Graceland. Sometimes you can actually see wisps of black smoke coming out of his ears. It is also deeply unsettling to see how thoroughly and convincingly Meryll Soriano’s Kaye falls to pieces. Young Krystal Brimner is rather heartrending herself as Angel, perhaps the only “innocent” victim in the film. Conversely, Tirso Cruz III slimes up the joint as Bishop Tony.

Matti has seen the enemy and it is legion. It encompasses the Church and capitalism, but it very definitely includes to Pogo-sian “us.” That doesn’t leave us much to work with, but he has a point when he rubs Kaye’s nose in her culpability. The professionally outraged have recently taken aim at the Koch Brothers for profiting from their early exit for Madoff’s scam. Yet, they are the ones who noticed something was too good to be true and walked away. You could argue the greedy ones are those who stayed. In accordance with that sentiment, you will not find a lot of heroics in Honor, but it is a gritty, lean, and angry thriller. Recommended for fans of naturalistic noir, Honor Thy Father screens tomorrow (7/2) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: Miss Hokusai

O-ei Hokusai is a proper young lady, but she can draw dragons and courtesans just as well as any man. She is her father’s daughter, after all. He would be Katsushika Hokusai. Even if you do not know his name, you will recognize his most famous work: The Great Wave Off Kanagawa. It turns out his daughter wasn’t just a chip off the wood-cut block. She was frequently an uncredited collaborator. Yet, she is never bitter, but rather pleasingly assertive and altogether charming in Keiichi Hara’s anime adaptation of Hinako Sugiura’s manga Miss Hokusai (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Katsushika Hokusai is a remarkable artist, but he is also arrogant and aloof. His daughter O-ei is pretty much the only other person he ever spares a thought for. Unfortunately, that includes Miss Hokusai’s little sister, O-nai, who lost her sight while still an infant and now lives a largely cloistered existence with her mother. O-ei is a protective and encouraging sister, but their father barely acknowledges the sickly younger sibling. She would force him to confront the kind of reality he tries to avoid. O-ei makes no secret of her disappointment in the shallow old man, but she stays in his untidy house, because of his respect for her talent and her independence.

It seems like this is the year of the tearjerker at NYAFF. If She Remembers, He Forgets and If Cats Disappeared from the World haven’t completely wrecked you yet, Miss Hokusai should pretty much finish you off. It is tragic (in a way we can see coming like a Kanagawa tidal wave), but wonderfully elegant. The protagonist is also worthy role model, who speaks her mind and calls it like she sees it, but is always deeply compassionate and humanistic. Her relationship with the innocent yet somewhat angst-ridden O-nai is rendered with such sensitivity, it will just tear your heart out.

In between the tear-jerking, Hara takes us on a slightly ribald tour of early Nineteenth Century Edo. As seen from O-ei’s perspective, it looks like quite a fun town. Apparently, erotica was the bread-and-butter of many artists of that period, including Miss Hokusai, who is not bashful when it comes to commissions from courtesans. Nor does screenwriter Miho Mauro’s adaptation shy away from gender role hypocrisies. Frankly, in many ways, the film feels downright Victorian, but it has a wonderfully honest and potent relationship at its center.

Miss Hokusai comes from the great animation studio Production I.G, but it is worlds removed from their signature franchises, such as Psycho-Pass and Ghost in the Shell, following more in-line with their endearing Letter to Momo (helmed by Hiroyuki Okiura). The film has such a rich, sophisticated vibe, viewers walking in blind could easily be convinced it is vintage Studio Ghibli or Don Bluth immediately post-Disney. It is just an exquisitely lovely, emotionally mature film that is deeply satisfying precisely because of the sadness in its soul. Very highly recommended for all audiences, Miss Hokusai screens this Sunday afternoon (7/3) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: The Mermaid

It is the highest grossing domestic film in China, easily surpassing Monster Hunt in a fracture of the time, without any sort of book-cooking game-playing. Therefore, it is probably safe to say demand for Stephen Chow slapstick lunacy is inexhaustibly rabid. Unfortunately, this one is a major disappointment. Brace yourself for the didacticism that drags down the manic spectacle of Chow’s The Mermaid (trailer here), starring Screen International Rising Star Asia Award Recipient Jelly Lin, which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Liu Xuan is a flashy real estate developer, who just pulled off a coup. He plans to soon reclaim a protected stretch of coastal property after chasing away the dolphins with a super-strong sonar installation. I bet you always thought dolphins used sonar themselves, but fortunately Chow is here to correct your zoological misperceptions. Turns out they can’t stand the stuff and neither can a secret colony of mermaids. As their numbers dwindle, the mega-cute Shan is recruited to assassinate Liu using poisonous sea urchins.

However, Shan and Liu fall in love quicker than you can say Splash. Needless to say, this does not sit well with Ruolan, Liu’s on-again-off-again business partner and longtime flirting interest. She is also a major femme fatale, who is hatching a sinister plan of her own.

Let’s face it, The Mermaid should be way more fun than it is. Unfortunately, Chow just loses control of his message (aren’t you supposed to use Western Union to send those?), inflicting interminable scenes of Mermaids getting machine-gunned down (by primarily Anglo henchmen) on the audience. That’s right, there are a ton of dead mermaids in this film. Oh, such good times. At least he makes his environmental points with bludgeoning force.

The film’s saving grace is Kitty Zhang Yuqi’s wonderfully sassy and seductive performance as the villainous Ruolan. You won’t think from appearances in films like CJ7 she had such cattiness in her, but that is how she supplies ninety-five percent of the fun to be found in The Mermaid. Jelly Lin is also quite soulful and vulnerable as Shan, which makes it even more disturbing to see legions of mermen getting slaughtered around her. As for Deng Chao’s Liu, most viewers will want to stab him with a poisoned sea urchin after the first fifteen minutes.

To an extent, Chow deserves credit for directly criticizing China’s environmental protection policies—or lack thereof to be more accurate. By just about every objective measure, the People’s Republic is the dirtiest nation in the history of pollution. (Check out Beijing Besieged by Waste sometime, on an empty stomach.) However, when he starts literally stacking up the body bags filled with mermaid carcasses, he sabotages the film for the sake of the message. Never in our wildest dreams did we ever imagine a Stephen Chow film could be described as a buzz-kill, but here we are. Not recommended—especially not for children because of the slaughtered mermaids—Chow’s The Mermaid screens this Saturday (7/2) with a special Q&A scheduled with breakthrough star Jelly Lin at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: The Bacchus Lady

Well, this is interesting product placement. Those bottles of Bacchus So-young offers to lonely old men in the park are sort of like Red Bull. The implication is clear. If they go off with her, they should get their energy up, so to speak. It is a tough racket for a senior citizen, but So-young’s bills won’t pay themselves in E J-yong’s Bacchus Lady (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Evidently, elder prostitution is kind of a thing in Korea, but nobody besides E J-yong talks about it. So-young (the English double meaning of her name is intentional) only takes on clients of similarly advanced years. It is not much of a living, but at least her transsexual landlord and the cashier at the hourly no-tell motel are patient. They will have to be during the week she recuperates from the old sailors’ disease. Somehow she also manages to pick up a kid at the doctor’s office.

Poor lost Min-ho is the love child of a Filipina mother and a rich deadbeat Korean doctor. When her confrontation turns non-lethally violent, So-young takes in the confused boy, hiding him from the cops. Of course, her life seems somewhat strange to the innocent lad, but they soon warm to each other. Meanwhile, So-young’s career takes an Arsenic & Old Lace detour when several old clients request her help arranging final exits.

Sounds like a load of laughs, right? Yet, somehow Youn Yuh-jung, one of the leading lights of Korean cinema keeps things relatively light and totally dignified. She covers the full gamut, but her So-young is always tough. Frankly, if this were an American film, everyone would be scrambling to give Youn awards, because it is both a tragic and empowering performance, in a film that ticks so many social issue boxes.

Some of those secondary themes are more potent than other. Arguably, the euthanasia subplot feels a little shopworn, following in the depressing footsteps of Grace Quigley, Honey, and The Farewell Party. However, the camaraderie So-young shares with her former clients is rather intriguing.

Bacchus Lady is nice film that is considerably elevated by Grand Dame Youn’s gritty, gutsy, and graceful performance. There are not a lot of surprises waiting to be sprung on the audience, but there are moments that will stick with you. Respectfully recommended, The Bacchus Lady screens this Friday (7/1) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: The Throne

It is a hard fact of royal life that a family member has to die before the next prospective king can take his “rightful” place on the throne. Sure, kings have abdicated, but it is generally a bad idea to leave loose ends cluttering up your divine authority. The cutthroat nature of royal families drives the tragedy of Lee Joon-ik’s The Throne (trailer here), which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Known for prizing scholarship, particularly Confucian ethics, King Yeongjo was slightly disappointed in his ne’er do well, possibly psychotic son Prince Sado. At least that is Team Yeongjo’s side of the story. Of course, Team Sado argues the Prince was not really mad per se, just rattled by the King’s constant belittling. For years a cold war rages between them, but both are restricted from taking direct action by decorum and courtly law. However, Prince Sado finally raises arms against his father in the opening scene, only to be betrayed by his wife, for the sake of their son, the anointed heir.

Sealed in a rice chest as a means of indirect, technically-not-an-execution-by-the-letter-of-the-law, Prince Sado slowly and agonizingly wastes away, as the film revisits their tempestuous history through flashbacks. Frankly, Lee and co-screenwriters Jo Chul-Hyun and Oh Seung-hyun do not favor either the father or the son. Instead, their sympathies lie with the grandson and the various royal family members and court officials caught in the crossfire of their intrigues.

In America, The Throne is notable as Korea’s foreign language Oscar submission, but on its home turf, it was eagerly anticipated as “Little Sister” Moon Geun-young’s return to film after an eight-year hiatus at college and on television. As Lady Hyegyeong, the potential Queen Mum, she is quite a compelling picture of conflicted loyalties and motherly anxiety. Lee Hyo-je is also surprisingly effective as the anointed grandson. Aside from Thirst, most fans know Song Kang-ho for his more affable, schlubby characters in films like The Face Reader and The Attorney. While not exactly a heavy, the severe King Yeongjo is a bit of a departure, but Song sort of humanizes him with some weird fussbudgetry. Yoo Ah-in similarly plays Prince Sado with such off-putting clamminess, it is only because of Lee Hyo-je that viewers come to sympathize with Team Sado.

Regardless, The Throne is a rich period production and its machinations are fascinating even if we often lack a strong rooting interest. Yet, Lee Joon-ik and company ultimately make a case for the sort of tragically Machiavellian sacrifices nobility requires. Arguably, it shares a distant kinship with Mike Bartlett’s West End hit, King Charles III. Recommended for its wealth of first rate performances and a provocative examination of the costs of attaining and maintaining power, The Throne screens this Thursday (6/30) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’16: She Remembers, He Forgets

Remember how you were in high school, pretty, popular, and fascinated by aviation? At least that is how it was for Gigi Yu. The aviation part did not come to her naturally, but from hanging around with the leaders of the Aviation Club. Technically, it was the earnest egghead who really understood planes. She married the good looking one instead. Was that a mistake? Yu starts wondering exactly that when she takes a trip down memory lane in Adam Wong’s She Remembers, He Forgets (trailer here), starring this year’s Star Asia Award winner, Miriam Yeung, which screens during the 2016 New York Asian Film Festival.

Yu and her husband Pang Shing-wa work more than they communicate. However, when they were high school students in the early 1990s, anything seemed possible, even with the mounting uncertainty regarding the Hong Kong handover. Yu’s platonic aviation buddies Pang and So Bok-man are both hoped to take their relationship to the next level. Pang closed the sale on open house weekend, which most likely caused So’s sudden disappearance shortly thereafter.

Unfortunately, Yu is starting to suspect Pang turned into a cheating dog. As she revisits her alma mater for this year’s open house weekend (we’d probably call it homecoming), decidedly on her own, Yu gets flashes of memory suggesting that she’d missed some pretty important signs from So. Putting the pieces together, she becomes desperate to reconnect with the torch-carrying rocket-launcher.

Okay, we can all probably admit SRHF is about twenty minutes too long. Any romantic dramedy should be able to wrap things up in under twenty minutes. That said, Wong uses the split time frame with lethal effectiveness. Granted, he is not playing fair, constantly revealing previously withheld information with each successive flashback. Still, few mortals can withstand the sheer power of the nostalgia he unleashes. Even if you weren’t launching bottle rockets with the cutest girl in school (and at least one other dude and the crusty old janitor), SRHF will make you feel like you did.

Yeung is undeniably a big star and she is impressive as the adult Yu. It is a sensitive turn, but also refreshingly mature and grounded. This is a woman who is experiencing a lot of disappointments, but still gets up for work each morning. However, newcomer Cecilia So just walks away with the film as teenage Yu. Her finely wrought chemistry with Ng Siu-hin’s So Bok-man also pays huge emotional dividends. If NYAFF patrons aren’t completely cried out from If Cats Disappeared from the World, this might just finish them off.

The pre-handover setting heightens the bittersweet vibe even further and gives the film a vivid sense of time and place. It is definitely a romantic tragedy, but it is the sort of weeper that makes you feel better when it concludes. Recommended for fans of Yeung and happy-sad love stories, She Remembers, He Forgets screens tomorrow night (6/29) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.