It
almost sounds like the premise of a Michael J. Fox movie, circa Doc Hollywood. A fortune-teller told Wang Shin-hong’s mother that
he should travel to an isolated monastery in central Burma, where he will live
as a brother for fourteen days. He was also instructed to eat one apple each
day to cure his insomnia, revive his sluggish business, and generally keep the
doctor away. However, Wang will not find love in that hardscrabble community,
as a rom-com character surely would. Instead, he gets an eye-opening lesson in
what both the monks and villagers must do to survive in Midi Z’s 14 Apples (trailer here), which screens at
the Freer as part of the mini-retrospective Borderlands: A Weekend with Midi Z.
Why
this monastery you or Wang might ask? Good question. It is never clear why the
fortune teller was directed here specifically. Since it was a remote stretch of
the country the Taiwan-based, Burma-born Midi Z had never visited, he decided
to grab his camera and film his friend on his pseudo-pilgrimage.
Arguably,
this might have been the worst site for Wang’s retreat. Instead of training him
in meditation and mindfulness, they put him to work collecting the considerable
offerings freely given by the desperately poor villagers. He even starts
serving as a community mediator.
At
this point, it is important to remember many, many Buddhist monks have endured
beatings and even sacrificed their lives for the cause of democracy in Burma.
On the other hand, it is not uncommon for the slacker children of middle class
families in Southeast Asia to gravitate towards monastic life—a phenomenon
depicted in the Thai mystery, Mindfulness and Murder. There seems to be a bit of the latter going on here. Indeed,
the already quite worldly Wang shows signs of further disillusionment during
his stay, but he also clearly understands the monks must do what they need to
do to survive.
14 Apples is a straight-up
doc, but it shares obvious stylistic and thematic commonalities with Midi Z’s
previous films, in which the border between documentary and narrative fiction
has always been rather porous. It also reflects his interests in migration and
statelessness, especially when we learn how many villagers are living and
working illegally in China, Singapore, and other more economically vibrant
Asian nations.
There
are some telling moments in 14 Apples,
but there are also times when the long-takes feel like padding. Frankly, it
might have worked better as a thirty or forty-minute short film rather than a
full feature, even though the pacing and aesthetics are exactly what the
filmmaker’s admirers will expect. Regardless, those fascinated by monasticism
should appreciate the very different perspective the film provides (this comes
from a whole different universe than Into
Great Silence).
On
a positive note, it is also encouraging that Z could film rather openly in
Burma and not have to take extraordinary measures to smuggle out the footage
(in contrast to his experience making Return to Burma). Recommended for cineastes with a personal interest in Burmese
cinema and Buddhist monasticism, 14 Apples
screens tomorrow (6/10) at the Smithsonian’s Freer Gallery, as part of
their Midi Z film series.
