Diao Yinan’s Wild Goose Lake

Zhou Zenong is in trouble. The mainland cops are after him and there is nothing too ruthless or too unscrupulous they won’t do to capture (or better yet kill) the small-time gangster. Remember, they are the ones who taught police brutality to their Hong Kong colleagues. Nevertheless, Zhou realizes it is entirely his own fault, because he very definitely killed a cop in Diao Yinan’s ultra-noir Wild Goose Lake, which opens this Friday in New York.

Zhou is the kind of world-weary hoodlum who prefers to keep things low key. Unfortunately, the local Jiang Hu (underworld) boss forces Zhou’s motorcycle-stealing ring to compete for their choice turf against a group of young punky upstarts. Unfortunately, the larceny “Olympics” turn violent to such an extent, Zhou kills a cop by mistake.

At this point, the die is cast. Zhou knows only too well no fugitive can elude capture in the People’s Republic for long. At least he will try to engineer a more favorable endgame. His original idea is to have his semi-estranged wife Yang Shujun turn him in so she can claim the reward money. Sadly, that scheme becomes untenable due to the police surveillance and harassment focused on Yang.

Liu Aiai is plan B. She is a so-called “bathing beauty” who works for Zhou’s pimp friend Hua Hua around the rather hedonistic Wild Goose Lake. Liu is supposed to drop a dime on Zhou and then turn the reward money over to Yang after taking her cut. Of course, Zhou is not sure he can trust Liu or Hua Hua, or any of his old associates—with good reason. Plus, the rival gang is still out to get him. It all contributes to the sort of long night of the soul Diao specializes in.

Wild Goose is not as twisty or suspenseful as Diao’s contemporary classic, Black Coal Thin Ice, but it is still superior film noir. While his plot is more straightforward and almost pre-determined right from the start (indeed, that is sort of the whole point), he and cinematographer Dong Jingsun craft a look and mood worthy of vintage Edward Hopper paintings and Ida Lupino films.

Diao also reunites with the co-leads of Black Coal, but Liao Fan takes a more secondary role as the relentless, Javert-like Captain Liu, but he is quite convincing as the cynical, maybe even soulless copper. Gwei Lun Mei is absolutely arresting and heartbreaking as Liu Aiai, the exploited “bathing beauty.” Frankly, it is sometimes difficult to watch what her character must so realistically endure, but that is why it is such a brave performance.

NYAFF ’18: On Happiness Road

You could say Lin Shu-chi came of age with her country. She was a student democracy activist during the period of martial law, but she expatriated to America just when democratic reforms took root. Having returned home for her grandmother’s funeral, Lin is not sure what she now thinks of herself or Taiwan in Sung Hsin-yin’s wistful animated family drama, On Happiness Road (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Lin’s family still lives at 168 Happiness Road. It sounds precious, but it has always been a bustling working-class neighborhood. During her early childhood years, Taiwan is still a rather poor and isolated country. In fact, she has quite a fateful birthdate: April 5, 1975, the day Chiang Kai-shek died.

As you might expect, there are not a lot of blonde little girls in Lin’s class, which makes it quite intimidating for Betty Huang. However, Lin befriends the bullied blonde when she needs it most. In fact, their friendship, renewed after Lin’s return to Taiwan, is unquestionably one of the most endearing aspects of the film. She also has quite a special relationship with her aboriginal grandmother, who continues to offer sage tough love advice, even after her death.

Sung gets the balance of bitter and sweet just about right in Happiness, while still staying true to the messiness of life. Lin makes all kinds of mistakes and has plenty of regrets, but it is easy for us to understand how she got where she is (even if she’s rather confused about it herself). Her relationships with her parents and aunts are realistically complicated, but her friendship with Huang is downright redemptive.

Viewers also get a keen sense of the Happiness Road neighborhood and the tenor of each era Lin lives through. Sung manages to integrate quite a bit of Taiwanese history into the film, in ways that always feel organic. Arguably, Sung’s only missteps are Lin’s dreams and reveries, which somewhat overdo the trippy flights of fancy in such and emotionally grounded film, but that is really a minor mistake.

Gwei Lun-mei gives a terrific vocal performance as the adult Lin, who happens to bear some resemblance to the Taiwanese superstar. Sung’s animation is also warm and nostalgic, in the right kind of way. Viewers might expect a predictable narrative arc, but Sung constantly surprises us with unexpected tragedies and poignant references back to her childhood. It is a lovely little film that real people anywhere can relate to. Very highly recommended, On Happiness Road screens Sunday (7/8) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: The Big Call

Lin A-hai’s gang doesn’t merely steal from the most vulnerable. They do so at the most annoying times. His motley crew of phone and internet scammers operates out of Thailand, using Chinese nationals lured using bait-and-switch tactics. They are a slippery bunch, but an upright HK cop and his undercover ex-girlfriend are determined to bring them down in Oxide Pang’s The Big Call (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Lin is the brains of the outfit, but since the cops have nothing on him (despite the best efforts of driven Ding Xiaotian), he can strut around Hong Kong at his leisure. His girlfriend Liu Lifeng is the operational manager, overseeing the women (primarily) forced to work in their Bangkok boiler room. Xu Xiaotu has infiltrated the operation, having been vouchsafed by a recruiter the electronic bunco squad busted. Liu can’t make up her mind whether she suspects Xu is a plant, but she respects her toughness and even seems to enjoy hang time with her. Meanwhile, an even more ruthless rival from Taiwan threatens to move in on their operation.

With Big Call Oxide Pang proves you can make a slam-bang action movie about telephone scamming. Perhaps this means somebody lost a bet—possibly to his filmmaker brother Danny Pang. Regardless, he pulled it off and as an additional coup he scored Gwei Lun-mei’s virtuoso performance as a straight-up unambiguous-right-from-the-start villain as the ruthless but tragically co-dependent Liu.

Wow, as much as we adore Gwei, even we didn’t know she could express such ferocity. Yet, we still end up feeling for her deeply. Jiang Mengjie is simultaneously strong and sensitive as undercover Xu, while Peng Xinchen is downright heartrending as Lin’s estranged sister Xiaoqin. In comparison, Cheney Chen’s Ding is rather a righteous bore, but at least he has more stamina than T.J. Hooker running after cars and jumping down fire escapes and the like. However, Joseph Chang Hsiao-chuan’s Lin is so cold and calculating, he really makes him spectacularly detestable.

Whether working solo or with his brother, Pang has always had a knack for staging slick action sequences. Big Call is no exception, but the real heat comes in the hothouse boiler room intrigue. Pang cranks up the claustrophobia and then lets Gwei and Jiang power the film with their intensity. It is like an old school HK cop movie, but with distinctly 21^st Century criminals (in fact, the thumb nail sketch Pang and co-screenwriter Liu Hua provide of Lin’s multi-tentacled operation is rather illuminating). Highly recommended for action connoisseurs and fans of Gwei, The Big Call screens July 4^th at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

Tribeca ’14: Black Coal, Thin Ice

China’s working poor are regularly ignored and exploited, but from their ranks will emerge an unlikely black widow that even James Cain would appreciate. Wu Zhizhen toils thanklessly in a provincial dry cleaner, but the last three men to be romantically linked to her met with early demises. Her suspicious misfortune attracts the attention of a disgraced ex-cop in Diao Yinan’s Black Coal, Thin Ice (clip here), which screens during the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival.

In 1999, hard boozing Det. Zhang Zili is called to investigate the discovery of multiple body parts at the local coal processing plant. Learning other pieces have turned up at other facilities, Zhang connects the dots to the Liu brothers, two drivers with a sketchy past. However, his routine inquiry goes spectacularly bad. The case is presumed solved, but that will not save his career.

Five years later, an old colleague comes to Zhang for an off the books consultation. The widow of the dismembered coal corpse has just lost her third significant other to foul play. The two more recent bodies were both found wearing ice skates, suggesting an obvious pattern. Seeking some sort of personal satisfaction, Zhang starts following Wu, but she is neither careless nor easily intimidated. However, as she gets used to his presence, she starts to entertain his overtures.

Like a Taiwanese Bette Davis, Gwei Lun Mei is a deceptively innocent looking femme fatale, but still a powerfully seductive screen presence. Well suited for Wu, she keeps audience sympathies sharply divided and expectations off-balance throughout Coal. She is also probably the biggest international movie star gracing Tribeca screens this year.

Conversely, Liao Fan revels in Zhang’s anti-heroics and degenerate binging. In fact, his flaws run so deep he had to be cashiered out of the police force to satisfy the Chinese censorship board. Intriguingly off-kilter in a hardnosed kind of way, Liao deservedly won the Silver Bear at Berlin for his work.

In a way, Coal bridges the gap between Chinese “indie films” and commercial releases to a surprising extent. Everything that goes down in Diao’s narrative is ultimately attributable to systemic injustice and inequity. Wu may very well be involved in something nefarious, but it is impossible to judge her harshly. Yet, this pointed social commentary proved to be a monster hit at the Chinese box office.

Coal could be considered a Chinese noir in the tradition of Fargo. The weather is cold, the landscape is grim, and people often behave in a dark and unpredictable manner. It is all definitely good stuff. Highly recommended, Black Coal, Thin Ice is a head-and-shoulders stand-out at the 2014 Tribeca Film Festival, where it screens again tomorrow (4/22), Thursday (4/24), and Saturday (4/26).

Flying Swords of Dragon Gate: Tsui Hark Does the 3D Thing

It was a time when eunuchs terrorized the land.  However, a handful of wandering knights are willing to challenge them, even at the cost of their lives.  Good multi-taskers, they will still find time for a bit of treasure-hunting in Flying Swords of Dragon Gate (trailer here),Tsui Hark’s monster 3D return to the legendary Dragon Gate Inn world, which opens a special two-week IMAX-coming-straight-at-your-head limited engagement this Friday in New York.

Sort of but not really a sequel to Raymond Lee’s 1992 Dragon Gate Inn (produced and co-written by Tsui), Flying 3D picks up three years later in movie time.  Dragon Inn burned to the ground and the femme fatale proprietress disappeared under murky circumstances, but since there was a demand for a sketchy flophouse right smack in the middle of sandstorm alley, the inn has been rebuilt by a gang of outlaws.  While they might roll the occasional guest, they are really more interested in the legend of the fabulous gold buried beneath the sands.

Two mysterious swordsmen calling themselves Zhou Huai’an will find themselves at the remote outpost after tangling with the corrupt eunuch bureaucracy.  One Zhou has just rescued Su Huirong, a potentially embarrassing pregnant concubine from the forces of the East Bureau.  This Zhou also happens to be a she and she has some heavy history with the man she is impersonating.  For his part, the real Zhou Huai’an has just barely survived a nasty encounter with the East’s top agent, Yu Huatian. 

The doubling continues when fortune hunter Gu Shaotang shows up at the inn with her partner Wind Blade, a dead-ringer for the evil Yu.  Add to the mix a group of rowdy, hard-drinking Tartar warriors, led by their princess Buludu and you have a rather unstable situation.  Before long, sides have been chosen and a massive gravity-defying battle is underway, as the mother of all sandstorms bears down on Dragon Gate Inn.

Frankly, the 3D in Flying is so good, the initial scenes are a bit disorienting.  Tsui probably has a better handle on how to use this technology than just about any other big picture filmmaker, dizzyingly rendering the massive scale of the Ming-era wuxia world.  Flying is also quite progressive by genre standards, featuring not one but three first-class women action figures.  When the headlining Jet Li disappears from time to time, he really is not missed.  Of course, when it is time to go Mano-a-mano in the middle of a raging twister, he is the first to step up to the plate.

All kinds of fierce yet genuinely vulnerable, Zhou Xun is fantastic as Ling Yanquiu, the Twelfth Night-ish Zhou Huai’an.  Likewise, Li Yuchun is a totally convincing action co-star as the roguish Gu, nicely following-up on the promise she showed in Bodyguards and Assassins.  Yet, Gwei Lun Mei upstages everyone as the exotically tattooed, alluringly lethal barbarian princess.  Her Buludu is both more woman and more man than Xena will ever be.  In contrast, Chen Kun is a bit of a cold fish in his dual role, which suits the serpentine Yu just fine, but does not work so well for Wind Blade.

Throughout Flying, Tsui throws realism into the whirlwind and never looks back.  If you are distracted by scenes that look “fake,” many of the CGI fight scenes will have you beside yourself.  On the other hand, if you enjoy spectacle, you really have to see it.  Surpassing its predecessor in nearly every way, Flying Swords of Dragon Gate is a whole lot of illogical fun.  Highly recommended for everyone still reading this review, it opens for two weeks only this Friday (8/31) at the AMC Empire.

Love & Protest: Girlfriend Boyfriend—GF BF

In the 1980’s, student protesters across Taiwan started demanding a more democratic form of government.  By 1997, the country functioned much like our own duly elected but media-driven dysfunctional system.  While historic events unfold on a macro level, three classmates struggle with their own messily intertwined lives and loves in Yang Ya-che’s Girlfriend Boyfriend—GF BF (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

High school magazine editor Aaron is passionate about Mabel and the democracy movement.  She likes him well enough and supports the cause, to an extent, but she really has eyes for Liam.  Though he has affection for her too, it is definitely of the “just friends” variety.  He pines for Aaron instead, but realizes that simply is not to be.  Eventually, Aaron wins Mabel over, at least temporarily, but the three keep in close contact for the next decade or so, which leads to considerable pain and complications for them all.  Meanwhile, they watch from the student barricades as political reform sweeps across Taiwan.

Granted, GF BF’s premise certainly lends itself to melodrama, but Yang’s approach to the material is unexpectedly restrained.  Frankly, he passes up several golden opportunities for tearjerking.  Similarly, he consistently eschews didacticism when depicting the student movement.  In fact, the orderly, matter-of-fact manner the film portrays Taiwan’s revolutionary liberalization is rather surprising (and telling).

Nonetheless, GF BF has a wistful air of innocence lost that leaves quite an impression.  Cinematographer Jake Pollock’s early candle-lit night scenes are particularly evocative.  There is a real sense of time passing in the film, even though its ridiculously attractive cast never seems to age a crow’s foot over a dozen or so trying years. 

Who would want to see Gwei Lun Mei age anyway?  As Mabel, she vividly projects earnest sensitivity, without degenerating into an emotional basket case.  It is a perfect starring vehicle for her.  Likewise, Joseph Chang is also a pretty effective tortured slow burner as Liam.  However, Rhydian Vaughan never really gets inside Aaron, leaving viewers with the impression of a rather shallow opportunist.

It is hard not to favorably compare the response to the Wild Lily Student Movement with the Tiananmen Square protests just one year earlier, but that is hardly GF BF’s central point.  It is sort of like a Taiwanese Jules & Jim, intensified by tumultuous social change and the closeted homosexual dynamic added to their mismatched love story. 

Like the lives it presents, GF BF can be a bit unwieldy, but it is consistently engaging viewing and also fascinating as a reflection of current Taiwanese socio-political attitudes.  Recommended for those who enjoy a love triangle with a very definite sense of time and place, Girlfriend Boyfriend opens this Friday (8/3) in New York at the AMC Empire and Village 7, as well as in San Francisco at the AMC Metreon and Cupertino Square, courtesy of China Lion Entertainment.