Send Me to the Clouds, with Yao Chen

Sheng Nan does not have an easy road to travel. She is a free-thinking, muckraking journalist and one of the so-called “leftover women,” unmarried women over the age of twenty-six. Both together account for about two thousand strikes against her in Mainland China. Sheng Nan is not inclined to change, despite the social pressures exerted on her. However, her independence comes at a high price when she is diagnosed with Ovarian cancer in Teng Congcong’s Send Me to the Clouds, which opens today in Los Angeles and next Friday in New York.

Sheng Nan was only diagnosed because a crazy arsonist attacked her while she was investigating a suspicious factory fire along the banks of the Yangtze. Naturally, her insurance will not cover the entire operation necessary to prolong her life, so she is forced to accept a rather problematic assignment ghost-writing the autobiography of father of the nouveau riche oligarch she just exposed in her photo-essay. Yet, even if the operation is successful, there is a high likelihood the procedure will permanently impair her capacity for sexual relations. Regardless, she sets off for Jiangxi to fulfill the unpleasant gig and hopefully to enjoy a last hurrah on the side.

The good news is old Mr. Li is much wiser and more compassionate than his sleazebag son. The bad news is Sheng Nan’s self-absorbed mother Meizhi invites herself along on the trip. At least she meets a man during their journey, who appears to be quite cerebral and generous, but Liu Gangming might not be as “sponge-worthy” as she assumes.

During the One Child era, “Sheng Nan” became a popular name for girls that means “Surpass Men.” It is also close in pronunciation to “Sheng Nv,” the insensitive term meaning “leftover women” the government coined for supposed old maids over twenty-six years of age. It is indeed a moniker rich in significance.

Viewers should keep that all in mind as they watch Clouds, but even if they forget it, they will perfectly understand Sheng Nan’s predicament thanks to Yao Chen’s acutely powerful performance. It is a little off-putting at first to hear everyone describe her as a Plain Jane (in real life, Yao has been dubbed the “Chinese Angelina Jolie”), but she plays it like it is a totally real fact of life that she has long resigned herself to.

Similarly, Yang Xingming is quietly but forcefully engaging as the humanistic Li. He also forges some resonantly human chemistry with both Yao and Wu Yufang, portraying her mother. There is a lot of emotional messiness in Clouds, but it looks quite elegant and feels rather reserved.

Jong Lin’s cinematography is visually striking, but some of Teng’s symbolism is a tad bit heavy-handed. Yet, even though it probably sounds ridiculously over the top on paper, the scenes of an errant coffin lost in transit slowly drifting down the river are surprisingly effective. Occasionally the drama veers into over-the-top melodrama, but it is mostly quite poignant and grounded in the all-too-real realities of contemporary China. Recommended for fans of Yao and anyone fascinated by the contradictions and hypocrisies of modern Mainland society and culture, Send Me to the Clouds opens today (9/20) in LA, at the Downtown Independent and next Friday (9/27) here in New York, at the AMC Empire.

NYAFF ’17: Journey to the West—The Demons Strike Back

The good thing about pilgrimages is they are long and can thus accommodate sequels. Of course, epics never got any more epic than Wu Cheng’en’s Journey to the West. Slivers and segments of the classical tome have been endlessly adapted by Chinese-language film and television, so it is not so surprising Stephen Chow came back for seconds. This time around, he serves as screenwriter and producer, but Tsui Hark replaces him at the helm of Journey to the West: The Demons Strike Back (trailer here), which screens during this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.

Frankly, Tang Sanzang (a.k.a. Xuan Zang, a.k.. Tang Seng, a.k.a. Tripitaka) should not be having dreams of glory, but he will soon be brought back down to earth. At the end of Journey to the West: Conquering the Demons, the mischievous demigods Pigsy, Sandy (who is now unexpectedly fishy), and Sun Wukong, better known as the Monkey King, were redeemed and subsequently pledged themselves as Tang’s disciples. Tang is firm in his purpose, but his heart still grieves for Miss Duan, his demon-busting colleague and true love.

However, life on the road has weakened their solidarity. The Monkey King is erratic at the best of times, but lately he has practically been at Tang’s throat, with Pigsy and Sandy quietly egging him on. They are no longer a cohesive unit, even when they blunder into country lodge filled with demons. Sun Wukong always senses them first. Partly it is probably due to his nose and partly due to Tang’s supernatural lack of intuition. However, their internal fissures threaten to violently cleave apart when they enter the kingdom of a mad, child-like prince worthy of Lewis Carroll. It is only thanks to his elegant minister Guanyin that his realm continues to function at all. Fortunately, she takes a bit of a shine to Tang or he would probably be executed for being a party-pooper. However, the slave-girl songstress Felicity really complicates matters.

Visually, Strike Back is an utter marvel of set-piece lunacy. Never intimidated by a little spectacle, Tsui’s strategy is clearly to go big, then bigger, and then bigger still. Who needs acid when we have Tsui’s candy-colored surreal wuxia fantasyscapes? He has the macro and then some, but the micro level of character development is a little thin. In all honesty, the film misses Shu Qi’s Miss Duan for reasons beyond the obvious. Perhaps recognizing the charisma gap, Hark and Chow periodically bring her back like Ben Kenobi in the later Star Wars films, but it is not enough.

Still, Kenny Lin holds up his end as the Monkey King. He does not go as completely feral-creature nuts as Aaron Kwok rocking out in The Monkey King 2, but he definitely came to play. In contrast, Kris Wu mostly comes across like a petulant jerk as Tang. However, Yao Chen is wonderfully regal as Guanyin and Jelly Lin is quite poignant (and arguably helps bail out Wu) as Felicity.

Even if you think you dig bombast and over-the-top special effects, Strike Back still might wear you out. One has to admire its inventiveness, but too often the human element is overshadowed by the maelstroms on screen. Ticketholders should also be advised there is a stinger worth sitting through the credits for. Recommended mostly for the oh’s and ah’s of its surface razzle-dazzle, Journey to the West: The Demons Strike Back screens this Saturday (7/8) at the Walter Reade, as part of the 2017 NYAFF.

Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe: The Other Shirley Yang Movie

Imagine if Jennifer Lawrence and Natalie Portman both starred in films about the same bestselling action hero that released in theaters one or two months apart. That is exactly what happened in China when both Shu Qi and Yao Chen starred as Shirley Yang in films based on the Ghost Blows Out the Light franchise. In a quirk of subsidiary sales, one group controls the rights to the first four novels and another controls the concluding four. The latter released Mojin: The Lost Legend slightly behind their competitors in China, but it was the first to reach our shores. Now we can go back to the beginning (and get thoroughly confused) with Lu Chuan’s rip-roaring Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe (trailer here), which releases today on DVD from Well Go USA.

Frankly, the two films taken in tandem seem to be contradictory and mutually exclusive, but who knows what genre business might have gone on in subsequent books? Regardless, it is probably best to consider them separately and discretely. As Chronicles opens, Hu Bayi and Yang Ping (as she is originally known) are not yet tomb-raiders by choice, but that is sort of what they are doing anyway as a reluctant soldier and nurse under orders of the PLA. In 1979, some very strange fossils have been discovered in the Mongolian desert, so Yang’s archaeologist father has been assigned to the excavation. Some mysterious force does its best to dissuade the Red Army with a great big explosion, but even that will not be enough of a hint. As volunteers for the investigatory team, Hu and the Yangs follow a freshly revealed passage all the way to the Demon Pagoda. At this point, this get a little hazy.

Five years later, the Yangs are still missing and Hu is still eating his heart out over Ping. He has been transferred to a government research institute, but he is intercepted in-transit by a mysterious librarian, somewhat in the tradition of the TNT series. While sorting and shelving he will bone up on Prof. Yang’s research into the Ghostly Tribe, the remnant of an alien race secretly living among humans. However, when Ping Yang resurfaces (renamed Shirley by the doctors treating her catatonia), Hu rejoins her latest expedition. Unfortunately, he finds she has somewhat changed. Of course, there will not be much time to worry about that when the unearthly monsters attack.

Not unlike the competing Mojin, the best sequences of Ghostly Tribe are probably earlier period adventure rather than the contemporary half. If anything, Ghostly Tribe is even more ambiguous in its portrayal of the great, patriotic PLA. Yao Chen and Mark Chao arguably have better chemistry as Yang and Hu than their Mojin counterparts, but Shu Qi and Chen Kun have greater individual screen presence and action cred. Tribe’s special effects are all first class, but there isn’t the sort of tomb-raiding action you will find in Mojin.

Regardless, Ghostly Tribe is just over-the-top enough to be good clean fun, but not so far gone that is becomes ridiculous. Lu and American screenwriters Bobby and Nick Roth put about every adventure element into a blender and hit puree. It works rather well, thanks to the breakneck pacing and Yao’s impressive range. Recommended for fans of Mojin and Jules Verne-esque romps, Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe is now available on DVD from Well Go USA.

Everybody’s Fine: Zhang Remakes Tornatore

At this point, a parent really ought to be able to deal with a son or daughter coming out of the closet, but things are still very different in China. However, Guan Zhiguo manages to take it in stride. That doesn’t mean he’s progressive, he is just used to his grown children’s disappointments. A series of unannounced visits will yield bittersweet fruit in Zhang Meng’s Mandarin remake of the Giuseppe Tornatore’s Italian film, Everybody’s Fine (trailer here), which is now playing in New York.

As you might remember from Tornatore’s film (but hopefully not the 2009 American remake starring Robert “Keep Meeting the Parents” De Niro), when all his offspring bail on Guan’s attempted family gathering, the widower hits the road to pay surprise pop-in visits to his two sons and two daughters. He starts with his youngest son Guan Hao, but the photographer never appears at his studio-flat. Eventually, he moves on to his eldest daughter Guan Qing, who is in the midst of a messy divorce she has kept from him. Viewers also learn from sotto voce conversations, her brother Hao was visiting Tibet, but his whereabouts are currently unknown following a disastrous avalanche.

The Guan siblings duly work the phones, warning each other of their father’s anticipated visits and conspiring to keep their brother’s uncertain fate from him. Unfortunately, the shortfall between the lives Guan Zhiguo expected to find and the messy realities offer plenty of grist for arguments. This is particularly true of Guan Quan, who sold the Shanghai flat his parents bought for him to help fund a dubious start-up. At least, Guan Chu really seems to be working as a ballerina in Macao, but that gig turns out to be less impressive than her father had been led to believe. Even he can tell there is more to Chu’s relationship with her roommate than she lets on, further upending his perception of his daughter.

In recent years, the Chinese government has tried to coopt the concept of the “American Dream” with their “Chinese Dream” propaganda campaign. While intended as a pseudo-nationalistic slogan, many have chosen to interpret it in economic terms not so very different from its American analog. In several ways, screenwriter Xiao Song’s adaptation critiques both competing conceptions of the Chinese Dream, lamenting the damage done to familial bonds and cultural traditions by go-go consumerism and runaway urbanization.

If Zhang was still smarting from the shelving of his 2014 film Uncle Victory because of its star’s drug arrest, he sure plays it safe with Zhang Guoli, who has appeared in overtly propagandistic films such as The Founding of a Republic and Back to 1942. Unfortunately, actor Zhang also plays it safe with his performance. He hunches up his shoulders colorfully enough and putters about with a dignified air, but he never takes us anywhere surprising. However, Yao Chen, Ye Yiyun, and Shawn Dou quite distinctively render the angsts and resentments of Qing, Chu, and Quan, respectively.

Despite the memory-play nature of Guan Zhiguo’s journey, Zhang Meng maintains a surprisingly up-tempo pace. He also recruits a number of big name cameos, including auteur Jia Zhangke, appearing as a Macanese gangster, and Vivian Wu (The Last Emperor, The Pillow Book) flashing some earthy charm as the Sichuan mahjong player with whom Papa Guan strikes up a flirty friendship.

Generally, Everybody’s Fine is still a sentimental melodrama, but it incorporates some intriguing commentaries regarding tolerance and the commoditization of life. Those Chinese particulars and the work of Yao and Ye give it a huge leg up on the De Niro version. A nice, non-taxing film, Zhang’s Everybody’s Fine earns a qualified recommendation for those interested in the all-star cast and its respected filmmaker. It is now playing in New York at the AMC Empire.

NYAFF ’14: Firestorm

Despite an innate laissez-faire attitude towards government, Hong Kong has always trusted its police. That is why there was such profound disappointment when the cops broke up recent pro-democracy demonstrations, as per their instructions from above. That might seem ironic for those raised on a steady diet of Johnnie To-John Woo rogue cop thrillers, but the general populace has always been willing to forgive a little corner-cutting to bring down the baddest baddies. However, Inspector Liu Ming-chit will take off-the-books justice to a whole new level of recklessness in Alan Yuen’s Firestorm 3D (trailer here), which screens during the 2014 New York Asian Film Festival.

Fronting as an art dealer, Mainland armed robber Cao Nan and his gang have been running circles around the police in general and the by-the-book Inspector Liu in particular. They enjoy a challenge and don’t give a toss how many bystanders are killed in the process. When Liu’s old high school judo partner To Shing-bong is released from prison, he rejoins Cao Nan’s outfit, while pretending to keep on the straight and narrow for the benefit of his loyal girlfriend, Law Yin-bing.

Liu is a cool, frosty cat, but the dead bodies start to push him towards the edge of legality. When a shocking atrocity hits home, the Inspector finally takes a running leap into the dark side. Of course, that leads to complications, culminating in a massively explosive shootout right smack in the middle of Hong Kong’s financial district that would even leave Michael Bay dazed and exhausted.

Even though there is no sex or nudity and little foul language to speak of, Firestorm is all about sheer excess. Whether it is the amped up action sequences, the over-the-top 3D effects, or the shameless emotional manipulation, writer-director Yuen has no patience for half measures. The last half hour or so is simply a jaw-dropper of an action set piece, spectacularly choreographed by Chin Kar-lok.

If you have a problem with entire city blocks blowing up than Firestorm is not for you. Nevertheless, Andy Lau’s work proves there really is such a thing as an action performance. He broods so hard you can see the steam coming out of his ears, elevating Liu to the level of classical tragedy. On the flip side, Hu Jun is magnetically steely as the uncannily unruffled Cao Nan.

Yao Chen manages to scratch a few decent scenes as the thankless Law, which is saying something, considering how testosterone-driven the film is. Unfortunately, second-lead Gordon Lam’s macho slow burn as To suffers in comparison with Lau and Hu. However, the film is peppered with terrific supporting turns, including Michael Wong hamming it up as Liu’s boss and young Jacqueline Chan demolishing viewers’ heartstrings as his disadvantaged god-daughter.

There is no room for subtlety or hand-wringing in Firestorm. It is simply too busy firing RPGs into crowded city streets. Given the magnitude of it all, you wouldn’t think this is Yuen’s first solo turn in the director’s chair, but the screenwriter comes strong and lays it down with authority. Recommended for action fans who like a movie to shake them by the lapels, Firestorm screens tomorrow (7/9) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

Chen Kaige’s Caught in the Web

It is the age of the internet troll.  Abetted by the tabloid press, anonymous malcontents offer a steady stream of bullying invective aimed at impulsively chosen targets.  In this case, the locale is central China, but it could happen here too.  One woman is tragically ensnared in a joint new media-old media feeding frenzy at the start of Chen Kaige’s of-the-moment contemporary drama Caught in the Web (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

During a routine check-up, Ye Lanqiu receives some devastating news: advanced lymphatic cancer, requiring immediate treatment she cannot afford.  Dazed, she returns to work on the bus, not noticing the old man coveting her seat.  When he complains, she tells him where to get off.  Unfortunately, it was all captured on the smart-phone of Yang Jiaqi, who is interning at a television station with her cousin’s ambitious girlfriend, Chen Ruoxi.  By the end of the day, Chen will make Ye notorious as “Sunglasses Girl.”

However, Ye’s problems are only getting starting.  Seeking a loan and an emergency leave from her industrialist boss, Shen Liushu, Ye breaks down before she can fully explain her dire circumstances.  At the worst possible moment, Shen’s high maintenance wife Mo Xiaoyu walks in on them, naturally misconstruing the intimate scene.  As Ye becomes a public pariah, Mo pours gasoline on the fire, antagonizing her husband and jeopardizing his big deal with an American firm.  While Shen and Mo wage their cold war and Chen bottom feeds, Ye goes into hiding, hiring her nemesis’s increasingly disillusioned boyfriend Yang Shoucheng as her bodyguard.

Whew, end of set-up. From there things get complicated.  Chen and his co-screenwriter Tang Danian have scripted the closest thing to a Chinese Tom Wolfe story you will find, chocked to the brim with intertwined characters and loads of zeitgeisty angst.  At times, they flirt dangerously with shameless melodrama, but the quiet dignity of Gao Yuanyuan’s lead performance saves their bacon every time.  It is a reserved, but deeply tragic turn, nicely matched by the restraint of the Taiwanese-Canadian Mark Chao as her reluctant protector, Yang Shoucheng.

In contrast, Chen’s frequent collaborator Wang Xuegi and his actress-producer-wife Chen Hong produce some spectacular fireworks as the crafty old Shen and his impulsive wife.  Perhaps fittingly, Chen Ruoxi is played by Yao Chen, who holds the distinction of having the most followers on China’s micro-blogging service, Sina Weibo.  She has also “Weiboed” on behalf of journalists challenging official state censorship, which makes her massively cool as well as popular.  She really digs into the character, portraying both her ruthless ambition and her deep-seated insecurities.  It is award caliber work that truly makes the film.

Cinematographer Yang Shu (an alumnus of Chen’s Sacrifice) gives it a slick, austere polish that well suits the in-the-now class conscious morality tale.  It is a relatively rare contemporary piece from Chen Kaige, but he adroitly manages the large ensemble and keeps the complex proceedings moving along at a healthy clip.  Thanks to Yao and Gao, Caught has real dramatic force, as well as a real message.  As long as the media focuses on the next “Sunglasses Girl,” they will ignore more inconvenient stories for the powers that be. (That applies beyond China too—just compare the coverage granted the Kardashians to analysis warning of the millions of individual insurance policies that will be canceled under Obamacare.)  Highly recommended both for fans of Chinese films and those who appreciate shrewdly observed social cinema, Caught in the Web opens today (11/27) in New York at the Village East.