NYAFF ’18: BuyBust

Feeling conflicted about the War on Drugs? Erik Matti is about to raise even more concerns regarding the way it is prosecuted in the Philippines. It is surely no accident his latest film is one of several recent Filipino releases that calls into question the methods used to enforce justice in the Duterte era, but there is no time for politics in this action showcase. It is a kill-or-be-killed struggle to survive in Matti’s BuyBust (trailer here), which had its world premiere at the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Nobody is more skeptical of the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA) top brass than Agent Nina Manigen. She is already the sole survivor of a disastrous operation that wiped out the rest of her previous squad. Even though she is considered a jinx, Bernie Lacson recruits her for his new squad. Unfortunately, their first field op bears a striking similarity to the notorious bust-gone-wrong Manigen barely survived. The idea is to grab the uber-protected drug kingpin Bennie Chen in mid-transaction, using Teban, a reluctantly cooperating narco middle man as bait. The operation needs to be fast and clean, because the entire walled off slum is under the control of the drug lord.

Alas, Lacson’s operation is betrayed by Judas, the same mole in the PDEA responsible for the massacre of Manigen’s first team. Trapped in the slum, Manigen and a handful of colleagues will have to fight pretty much everyone as they search for an escape.

Basically, BuyBust is like The Raid: Redemption, but set in a shanty village instead of a tenement. However, Matti’s film, considered his first straight-up action movie, is far grittier and fiercer. Frankly, the body count here is astronomical and many of the deaths are spectacularly brutal. Arguably, Manigen and her valiant colleague Rico Yatco qualify as heroes, but there is not a lot of heroism in the film. They do some grisly things to survive, but they do not have much choice.

Fans will probably be stunned by Anne Curtis’s steely, hardnosed action-turn as Manigen, but she truly reinvents herself here. It is hard to imagine just about any other glamorous leading lady who could duke it out so convincingly amid all this muck and detritus, including Atomic Blonde’s Charlize Theron (maybe Kim Ok-vin from The Villainess).

Yet, as Yatco, Brandon Vera is right there with her, every step of the way. In fact, they develop some terrific fighting chemistry together (but in a film like this, terms like “relationship” are meaningless). Victor Neri’s Lacson is also a seriously bad cat, while Alex Calleja steals a few scenes as the rather reasonable (and comparatively decent) Teban.

There were some action elements to Matti’s On the Job, but BuyBust is just complete and total mayhem. Yet, we care about Manigen and her colleagues, because Matti invests a full half hour to establish their characters and the dysfunctional system they serve. Still, viewers better be prepared for the relentless havoc he lets loose. As an action beatdown, it totally calls and raises We Will Not Die Tonight. Highly recommended for hardcore action fans, BuyBust premiered at this year’s NYAFF, before screening this Wednesday (7/18) at Fantasia, and opening theatrically in the U.S. on August 10^th.

NYAFF ’18: Inuyashiki

Spiderman tells us: “with great power comes great responsibility.” A put-upon salaryman like Ichiro Inuyashiki knows plenty about responsibility, but not so much about power. However, a mysterious explosion turns the late middle-aged family man into a mecha-style superhero. He uses his new powers to cure kids in cancer wards—a noble application indeed—but he was not the only person at that fateful explosion site. Great power also corrupts in Shinsuke Sato’s live action manga-adaptation, Inuyashiki (trailer here), which screens today during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Poor Inuyashiki gets no respect in the office and even shabbier treatment at home, from his wife, son, and daughter. Nobody will even stop to listen when he is diagnosed with cancer. While out walking the abandoned dog his wife won’t let him keep, Inuyashiki is engulfed in some kind of alien energy. When he wakes, he is a cyborg with a low tolerance for sodium.

Hiro Shishigami was there too. He was not a bad kid. Shishigami loves his mother and does his best to protect his childhood friend Ando from bullies. Unfortunately, he has been embittered by a series of disappointments, starting with his parents’ divorce. Soon, his reckless use of powers turns into full-fledged serial killing and terrorism. Of course, as a lifelong video-game player, Shishigami immediately takes to the new powers, whereas Inuyashiki is like Ralph Hinkley in The Greatest American Hero.

In fact, Inuyashiki could be considered a cross between the classic Stephen J. Cannell TV show and the Death Note movies, especially considering how adept Shishigami becomes at killing from great distances.  In some ways, this film definitely feels familiar, but Noritake Kinashi keeps it fresh with his lead performance as Inuyashiki. It is hard to make such a woeful doormat character so engaging, but he pulls it off. He and Sato are also unusually consistent in their portrayal of the salaryman cyborg. He remains pretty much the same deferential dufus, instead of suddenly morphing into a confident, flashy-dressing ladies man, just because he can fly.

Takeru Satoh is undeniably creepy and cold-blooded as Shishigami, but he is so much like Tatsuya Fujiwara’s Light Yagami in the Death Note movies, fans could get flashbacks. Regardless, the women around him are terrific. Yuki Saito is quite poignant as his mother Yuko and Fumi Nikaido is a heartbreaking wonder as Shion Watanabe, possibly the last person who is able to reach Shishigami. It is a comparatively small part for Nikaido, but she elevates it into something serious and rather meaningful.

Inuyashiki is far more character-driven than most super-hero movies, but the large-scale Shinjuku climax still delivers plenty of spectacle. As far as strict logic goes, it doesn’t make much sense, but it is big and suitably apocalyptic. All things considered, it is a nice alternative to the super-slick Marvel and DC movies. After watching Inuyashiki, a lot of viewers might find themselves looking for Joey Scarbury’s “Believe It or Not” on YouTube. Recommended for its humanity, Inuyashiki screens today (7/15) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Buffalo Boys

The Dutch were something else, weren’t they, what with their windmills, tulips, and Indonesian colonialism. This movie will make then pay dearly for their Western imperialism, but it will use the conventions of the American western to do it. Two brothers and their uncle have returned from California to avenge their decimated family and kick some Dutch butt in Mike Wiluan’s Buffalo Boys (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Jamar and Suwo’s father tried to make peace with the dastardly Van Trach, but that worked out poorly for him and his Javanese village. Their Uncle Arana had a feeling that would happen, but he didn’t have time to say I told you so. He was too busy escaping with his infant nephews. As soon as they return, they get into trouble rescuing a village headman’s daughter from Van Trach’s Weinstein-esque henchmen. Naturally, that brings down the full Wrath of the Dutch (how about that for a title?) on their former hosts.

As a result, the three outlaws are particularly ticked off when they blow into Van Trach’s corrupt Dodge City. They even take rooms above the saloon, as they bide their time. As if matters were not personal enough, Suwo rushes headlong into some ill-advised fights to protect the headman’s other daughter, the tomboy fighter, Kiona.

Buffalo Boys is so blatantly trying to stoke resentment against the West, you would think it was produced by Jackie Chan. At times, it really wallows in the level of agitprop. Nevertheless, it needs to be stipulated Wiluan stages some terrific action scenes. The final shootout is a real smoker that can hold its head up with many classic gun fights. Naturally Jamar and Suwo are grossly outnumbered, but they are not necessarily outgunned. Plus, they are considerably more mobile, since the Dutch insist on wearing their wooden shoes.

Indonesian superstar Ario Bayu cuts the right sort of broad-shouldered figure for Jamar, but his glum brooding allows Yoshi Sudarso to frequently up-stage him as the more dashing Suwo. Yet, Tio Pakusadewo towers over both of them as grizzled old Uncle Arana. Frankly, Reinout Bussemaker is laughably sinister as Van Trach, but that is the sort of mustache-twisting villain a film of this degree of subtlety demands.

Wiluan produced Headshot and Beyond Skyline, so he obviously learned a thing or two about how action should look on-screen. Both those films are more fun than his directorial debut, but he still notches some highly distinctive kills. Unfortunately, the didactic soapbox statements are more likely to inspire dismissive laughter than woke revelations. Still, between the two, you can’t say the film doesn’t entertain. It is messy and prone to embarrassing finger-wagging, but still kind of fun. Buffalo Boys screens Sunday evening (7/15) at the SVA Theatre, as part of the 2018 NYAFF, so proost everybody.

NYAFF ’18: Sad Beauty

It is like a Thai version of Beaches, at least as far as we know. However, life is more intense and somewhat stranger in Thailand. So is death. Yo will experience that reality first-hand when she is forced to confront her best friend’s mortality in Bongkod Bencharongkul’s Sad Beauty (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Yo’s career has hit the skids after her latest social media meltdown, so like always, she relies on Pim, her lifelong best friend and unpaid assistant to keep her spirits up. Despite Yo’s shallowness, their friendship is real. However, she has trouble being the supportive one for a change when Pim is suddenly diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Still, she gives it a go for a while, until a violent incident sends her binging down a spiral of self-medication and hedonistic oblivion. Frankly, she has a right to be a little freaked, but Pim will still need her.

If you want to learn how to dispose of a body in Thailand, Sad Beauty definitely offers an eye-opening tutorial. Nevertheless, the film is way more consistent, both in terms of tone and theme then it maybe sounds. This is an unflinching honest depiction of a female friendship and its built-in inequalities. It definitely feels very true to life and the closing post-script from thesp-turned-director Bencharongkul openly invites viewers to assume it is based on her own experiences.

Florence Faivre (recurring on both The Expanse and Agents of SHIELD) is indeed a sad beauty, a hot mess, and a fitting analog for Bencharongkul. At times she brings to mind the exquisite sadness of Shu Qi in Millennium Mambo, but other times it is just hard to watch her self-indulgence and self-destructiveness.

Although it is the quiet, deferential role, Pakkawadee Pengsuwan is absolutely devastating as Pim. Our hearts ache for her, but she is no mere movie-of-the-week cancer patient. She is a complicated personality, with very real fears and resentments. It is a bold performance, physically and emotionally.

Unlike buddy movie clichés, real friendship is relatively rare on screen, because it is messy, complex, and the terms are often unequal. Sad Beauty is a wise and undeniably poignant exception. Frankly, it would have been an awkward fit for past NYAFFs, but it is a worthy little film that adults will appreciate. Recommended for fans of sophisticated tear-jerkers, Sad Beauty screens tomorrow (7/14) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Respeto

At maybe fifteen years-old, aspiring rapper Hendrix is just a kid, but he is already displaying rapper like tendencies. He has no problem with stealing from just about anyone, even though he always seems to get caught. It is a hostile environment to grow up in, especially for a semi-orphan-like Hendrix, but an elderly bookstore will help broaden his perspective in Alberto “Treb” Monteras’s Respeto (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Hendrix and his pals, the tomboyish Betchai and the Porthos-like Payaso set out to burgle Doc’s store, but they wound up trashing the place instead. In lieu of charges, the three punky kids agree to fix up his store with their own sweat equity. At first, the old man is aloof, but he slowly starts to take a protective interest in the kids, particularly Hendrix.

It turns out Doc was once a well-known poet and critic of the Marcos regime, but he has not written any new verse in years. In fact, he is increasingly alarmed by the parallels between Duterte now and Marcos then, but when he finally speaks out, it will be to give the duplicitous Hendrix a taste of his own medicine at a battle rap showcase (it is tough to watch, but it is far and away the film’s best scene).

Respeto is undeniably gritty, but every heavy-handed punch is telegraphed way in advance. This isn’t so much of a narrative as it is a laundry list of urban pathologies. We have seen this all before and we have seen it better in films like Neomanila and Hamog. Kids are nihilistic, because they are responding to their grim, predatory environment. We so get that, but then what?

Abra might be a popular rapper in the Philippines, but he just doesn’t have the screen presence necessary to carry the film as Hendrix. Instead, it is the old cat, Dido De La Paz, who takes ownership of Respeto as the memory-haunted Doc—and thank goodness he does, or the film would have really been flat.

Clearly, Monteras hoped the film’s immersion into Manila’s hip hop scene would mask its predictable plot and didactic excesses. It works up to a point, but it s tough to shake the feeling that we have been here before, because we have. Simply not distinctive enough to recommend, Respeto screens Saturday evening (7/14) at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Premika

If you can possibly imagine an episode of Scooby-Doo with gallons of squirting blood and a human trafficking subplot then you could have an inkling of the defiantly taste-challenged tone of this Thai supernatural outing. It should also be readily asserted the ghost is very real and she wants you to sing karaoke—or else. Anyone who mangles a lyric or sings offkey dies a horrible death in Siwakorn Jarupongpa’s Premika (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

The cops call her “Premika” based on the name stitched in her fetish-style school uniform, but they really don’t care about solving her murder. They can’t even be bothered to find all her scattered body parts. That is why she is such an angry spirit. She is attached to a vintage-style karaoke machine that might look like fun, but its a nightmare for unsuspecting victims. To survive Premika’s wrath, the shallow, obnoxious guests of the resort most score at least an 80 with their performance. Fortunately, one of Thailand’s top boy bands happens to be playing for the grand opening.

Premika is mostly rather silly, albeit in a ridiculously gory kind of way, which is why the revelation of the ghostly school girl’s back story has such a Jekyll-and-Hyde whiplash effect. Most people will come out of the film with their heads spinning, wondering what the heck did they just see. This is truly a kitchen sink kind of movie, with just about everything you can think of thrown in rather chaotically.

So, who needs subtlety anyway? If you want to see some completely off-the-rails lunacy than Jarupongpa has your number. Natthacha (Gena) De Souza is also quite a wonder as Premika. She can be fierce and eerie one moment and then K.O. you with her tragic poignancy from out of nowhere, sort of like Lon Chaney Jr.’s Wolfman, but not really.

Premika is not as gleefully nuts as Countdown or Dead Bite, but its not for a lack of trying. What a Thai triple feature those three films would make. Obviously, Jarupongpa’s screenplay is likely to offend many, but that is all part of its charm. Recommended for fans of the nutty and whacked-out, Premika screens Friday night (7/13), at the SVA Theatre, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: One Cut of the Dead

It was supposed to be the Rope of zombie movies, filmed in one continuous shot. Then the zombies attack for real. However, if you think that sounds crazy, wait until you see it all again from a different perspective. Zombies get the mash-up treatment like never before in Shinichiro Ueda’s One Cut of the Dead (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Higurashi is a bullying director a thousand times worse than Peter O’Toole in The Stunt Man. He has so little regard for cast and crew safety, he awakens the zombie curse hanging over their remote location, an abandoned industrial site, where the Japanese military reportedly staged sinister occult experiments during WWII. As crew-members turn into feral zombies, Higurashi finally gets the realistic performances he wants from his terrified thesps.

However, there is much more going on outside the camera’s field of vision. In a complete change of tone, the film goes from a Night of the Living Dead rip-off to a worthy successor to Noises Off. It is hard to explain out of context, but Ueda’s editing is absolutely masterful. You just need to see it for yourself.

One of the many cool things about Cut is how completely Ueda and his cast commit to each phase of the film. The second and third acts are so wickedly clever, precisely because we were with the cast-members when they were running for their lives during the opening set-up.

Takayuki Hamatsu could possibly give the performance of the year as Higurashi. He certainly shows phenomenal range. Yet, Harumi Syuhama arguably eclipses his lunacy as Nao, the makeup artist who turns into a berserk killing machine and also acts pretty nuts in the third act as well. Mao develops some smart but endearing chemistry with them both as her namesake, an aspiring filmmaker.

Eventually, Cut evolves into a hilarious valentine to underdog independent genre filmmaking. It would pair up nicely with Graham Kelly Greene’s criminally overlooked Attack of the Bat Monsters. In fact, at one point a character in the Cormanesque spoof rather wistfully states: “in the future, people will watch these movies and laugh, but they’ll never understand how hard we worked on them.” That sentiment also perfectly fits Cut. It is a total winner that will charm the pants off horror fans. Very highly recommended, One Cut for the Dead screens Friday night (7/13), at the SVA, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Dukun

How do the powerful and privileged become ever more so? Black magic. We’re not saying it actually works, but Mona Fandey had plenty of patrons who believed so. The nightclub singer turned shaman achieved infamy when one of her rituals slightly misfired. She decapitated an up-and-coming politician. Look, we’ve all been there, but its still embarrassing when it happens to you. Yet, her fictionalized analog takes this setback in stride throughout Dain Said’s long awaited Dukun (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Right, so Diana Dahlan’s ritual for the ambitious Dato’ Jeffri was not the smashing success they both hoped for, but things could be worse. As she sagely notes, at least he paid in advance. That attitude isn’t helpful when she is tried in the media, ahead of her courtroom trial, but her smugness is disconcerting, suggesting she knows something everyone else doesn’t, most   particularly including her counsel, Karim Osman. The last thing he needed was a case like this, but is forced to accept, in exchange for help finding his daughter Nadia from a City Hall contact.

As Osman searches high and low with Daud, a private investigator of sorts, who happens to be attuned to occult matters, he actually does a half-decent job defending Dahlan. He scores enough points to irritate Talib, the lead cop on the case, but his own client’s cryptic hints regarding Nadia’s disappearance are not exactly reassuring.

It will seem bizarre to Americans who do not live in California or on a college campus and therefore value free speech and expression that a film as benign as Dukun could be withheld from distribution for twelve years. It might be transparently inspired by the Fandey case, which was rather embarrassing to the ruling Sunni political party, but Said and screenwriter Huzir Sulaiman avoid policy and ideology, while adding plenty of their own invention—starting with Dahlan’s very real supernatural powers.

Dukun is an unusual blend of the courtroom drama and horror genres, which sounds strange, but actually works pretty well. In fact, they juggle a fairly large cast and a good number of subplots rather dexterously, even though they kill off one particularly intriguing character far too soon (alas, such are the perils of being a character in a horror movie).

As Dahlan, Uime Aida is a femme fatale, with the emphasis on the “fatal.” There is clearly supposed to be a feminist subtext to her prosecution, but she is so fabulously sinister, she undercuts the gender politics. Of course, from a horror fan’s perspective that is totally cool. On the other side of the spectrum, Adlin Aman Ramliee is completely convincing as the completely out of his depth Osman. Ramli Hassan is seriously righteous as Daud, while director-thesp Nam Ron is all kinds of hardnosed as Talib.

Weirdly enough, the film’s central legal question is legitimately debatable: was the decapitation really premeditated if Dahlan/Fandey truly thought the rite would bestow immortality on her victim? Still, the severed head is a pretty tangible piece of evidence that is tough to argue with. It very well might be anti-death penalty NGOs that ultimately object to the film, because the fictionalized Dahlan is definitely guilty of some seriously evil stuff, rather than a victim of fear and prejudice. Fascinating on many levels and also wickedly creepy, Dukun screens this Friday (7/13) at the SVA, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Crossroads—One Two Jaga

The police in Kuala Lumpur might make the far-left rethink abolishing ICE, because they make the bureaucratic agency look rather benign in comparison. KL cops are always happy to score a cheap collar, but on the plus side, they can be bought at prices most “undocumented workers” can afford. This is particularly true of the shamelessly corrupt Hassan, but not so much for his squeaky-clean rookie partner in Nam Ron’s Crossroads: One Two Jaga (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Sugiman and his sister Sumiyati were Indonesians working legally in Malaysian, but she sabotaged her status when she walked out on her exploitative employers (who hold her passport). Fortunately, Sugiman works for Sarip, a big wheel in Indonesian expat circles, who can smuggle Sumiyati home, for a specially discounted price.

Since Sumiyati is now a fugitive, Sugiman will have to keep her under wraps until it is time for her to leave. This is not a good time for cops to start snooping around Sarip’s garage-junkyard-whatever. Frankly, he has high-level protection to prevent that sort of thing, but Hussein something about the place just bothers Hussein. Sarip’s cop-hating son Adi is not exactly a moderating influence either.

Initially, Crossroads (the “One Two Jaga” refers to a local variation on the kids game “cops and robbers”) starts out very much like one of those these-people-are-all-inter-connected-in-ways-they-don’t-know-yet indie films that may have finally fallen out of fashion, but it builds to an explosive third act. Viewers can guess the general trajectory things are headed, but Nam Ron takes it deeper and darker than even experienced genre fans will expect.

Frankly, there is an additional sub-plot involving Filipino expats who skim from their boss’s regular police bribe money that easily could have been eliminated. Seriously, any of us could have told them that would end badly. On the other hand, the tension between Hussein and Hassan is electrically charged and really rather gutsy, given local sensitivities (it is worth noting one of his prior films remains unreleased).

Sugiman and Sumiyati are also acutely human characters, caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Ario Bayu and Asmara Abigail really look like brother and sister (such is their mutual good fortune) and they act like siblings with years of strained history together. Zahiril Adzim maybe broods a little too much for his own good as Hussein, but Rosdeen Suboh makes the roguish Hassan into an intriguing, multi-dimensional figure. He is not all bad and he is certainly not all good, existing in the gray areas, much like nearly everyone else in Malaysian society (or so the film seems to suggest).

Despite working towards a foreshadowed tragedy, Crossroads is quite compelling to watch. The subplots are not developed with equal thoroughness, but it is worth seeing the high caliber work of Bayu, Abigail, and Suboh, under any circumstances. Recommended for discerning patrons of naturalistic crime drama, Crossroads: One Two Jaga screens this Wednesday (7/11) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: The Looming Storm

People are forced to celebrate anniversaries of the year 1997 in China, but Yu Guowei does not have happy memories from that time (many Hong Kongers also have decidedly mixed feelings about it). That year, the factory security guard tried to catch a serial killer, but his plan misfires badly in screenwriter-director Dong Yue’s The Looming Storm (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Essentially, Yu is the head security guard for Smelting Plant #4 someplace in the Eastern Central provinces, but he also has loss-prevention duties that earn him deferential treatment from most of his co-workers. The significance of such prevalent worker theft is largely lost on the aspiring detective. Regardless, he occasionally (and eagerly) provides auxiliary assistance to the over-worked local cops, including maintaining the perimeter around the killer’s latest body.

The victims all seem to be young women working at one of the regional factories, so it stands to reason the killer is also an industrial laborer. Nosing around, more or less on spec, he spooks a suspicious hooded figure, whom he chases all through the factory yard. The incident confirms his suspicions, but it will be a costly misadventure. Yu will have to be smarter, but he will have more time to plan, since he will be included in the massive layoffs about to sweep the district. Logically, he takes his savings to bait a trap for the killer. That would be Yanzi, a former prostitute Yu helped set up in a new respectable life. However, she is confused by the chasteness of his attention and oblivious to his ulterior motives.

Much like Explosion and Black Coal Thin Ice, Looming Storm combines film noir elements with socially conscious themes, but it is a slower build. There is no shortage of mood and atmosphere, because it rains incessantly in this unnamed center of urban decay. However, Dong somewhat confuses matters by hinting at the unreliability of Yu’s perspective, yet ultimately leaves the question hanging.

Nevertheless, Yu the striver is exactly the sort of brooding, desperate character that is totally in Duan Yihong’s wheelhouse. We always feel for him, even at the height of our skepticism. However, it is Jiang Yiyan who really lowers the boom as the marginalized but dignified Yanzi. Role for role and scene for scene, Jiang might just be the best actress working today. With respects to Looming, she doesn’t just steal the picture, she makes it.

It is hard to go wrong with a film noir that has this much rain. The provincial, soon-to-be-post-industrial setting definitely heightens the vibe of danger and alienation. It starts slow and ends somewhat too ambiguously, but it still pays off handsomely, thanks to the perfectly cast leads. Recommended for fans of Chinese noir, The Looming Storm screens tomorrow night (7/9) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: What a Man Wants

This is a Korean movie, so even though it starts out like a Blake Edwards sex farce, there will be some tragedy eventually. Men are indeed acting badly, but they are not the only ones in Lee Byeong-hun’s What a Man Wants (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Seok-geun constantly cheats on his patient and lovely wife Dam-deok, because he is a cad. Ironically, he often tricks his straight-laced brother-in-law Bong-soo into covering for him. A lot of people would give him a pass if he had some side action, because Seok-geun’s sister Mi-young can be a you-know-what-buster. One fateful night, Bong-soo naively shows up for the pool game that was supposed to serve as Seok-geun’s alibi and inadvertently steals away the attention of his new prospective lady friend, Je-ni. Seok-geun had been daring him to have an affair of his own, so he finally gives into temptation.

Not long after the affair begins, Bong-soo’s professional standing as a chef-restauranteur dramatically improves. Alas, tragedy also strikes the family. As a result of these combined events, Bong-soo and Seok-geun effectively trade places. However, when Mi-young hires Je-ni as a waitress in the restaurant, things revert back to a farcical level.

There is a fair amount of door-slamming in WAMW, but there is also a good deal of guilt and grief. When it loses a character, the repercussions are felt all the way through to the end. Still, there is plenty of physical comedy, mostly executed without excessive mugging.

Most of that sneaking around and hiding under tables falls to Shin Ha-kyun, who is quite nimble and rather poker-faced as Bong-soo. Initially. Lee Sung-min plays Seok-geun as a roguish shaggy dog, almost like a Korean Jim Belushi, but he gets surprisingly serious during the third act. In fact, it is a rather smoothly and subtly evolving performance. Yet, the biggest surprise might be Lee El, who elevates Je-ni beyond a mere sex status, giving her complicated depth and dimension, very much in the tradition of Dada Chan.

Nobody gets off easily in WAMW, but Lee and co-screenwriters Jang Gyu-sung Bae Se-young do not hold grudges against anyone either. You might have missed the connection, but their screenplay is based on the 2011 Czech film Men in Hope, yet they definitely incorporate distinctly Korean attitudes. They also capitalize on the temperate and inviting Jeju Island locales. A nice balance of funny and sad, What a Man Wants screens tomorrow afternoon (7/8) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Looking for Lucky

Capitalism is an inherently fair and moral system. Good and services are exchanged at prices set in a free and open market. That is not how it works in China, where crony socialism has given rise to a favor economy. With no transparency, favor exchanges are constantly renegotiated mid-transaction by the more connected party—typically government officials or CP members. Poor grad student Zhang Guangsheng (poor is indeed the word) is at the mercy of his faculty advisor, particularly with respects to his future employment hopes. That is why his life is thrown into crisis when his father loses his professor’s dog in Jiang Jiachen’s Looking for Lucky (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

All of the errands Zhang has performed for Prof. Niu are on the brink of paying off, when the senior faculty member starts making vague promises regarding a full-time teaching position. Of course, the brown-nosing Zhang agrees to look after Niu’s white bulldog Lucky while he is out of town. However, he also has a thesis defense to prepare so he asks his father to walk Lucky. In retrospect, this was a catastrophic error.

For whatever reason, the elder Zhang is a magnet for quarrels, so true to form, he loses Lucky in the part after a run-in with an opportunistic granny. After bailing his father out of jail, Zhang starts pounding the pavement, but the chances of finding Lucky start out slim and become grimmer with each passing day.

Dog lovers can sort of relax, because the missing Lucky is found safe and sound about halfway through picture, but in a way that is no help to Zhang. Alas, not every dog in the film will be so lucky. Needless to say, Zhang’s supposedly secure future is now very much in doubt. Reluctantly, he falls back on plan B—offering Niu cash for the position, which Zhang’s father and his cronies believed was necessary all along. Thusly begins a mad scramble to raise money, complete his degree, and keep the old man out of jail.

Lucky is billed as a comedy, but it is hard to laugh at Zhang’s plight. Basically, it is like the dog-sitting analog of De Sica’s Bicycle Thief. Everything is stacked against Zhang, from petty scammers to snobby passive-aggressive fellow grad students. Actually, old Lucky is one of the few characters who we can’t really blame, given the circumstances of his disappearance.

It is also somewhat notable to see a father-and-son relationship in socially-conscious independent cinema (usually it is a sainted mother sacrificing for her family). Their home life is often contentious, but it is still mostly workable. As Zhang and his father, Ding Xinhe and Yu Hai are absolutely terrific. They bicker like they have years of difficult shared history together and practically already know what the other will say.

This is what happens when economic power is centralized—those who hold it, abuse it. The film’s setting in northeastern Shenyang (Jiang’s hometown) raises the stakes even further. Unlike big cities such as Shanghai, there are even less opportunities and fewer grey sectors. The film definitely has a docu-hybrid feel, because it is clearly based in truth and produced on the streets. Highly recommended as both a character study and as a humanistic critique of China’s political economy, Looking for Lucky screens tomorrow afternoon (7/8) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

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: Missing Johnny

If you want to see this film, you’d better catch it while you can. The Chinese Communist Party has already denied it permission to screen in Mainland theaters and it is probably only a matter of time before they start censoring films on airlines providing Chinese flights. After all, they recently mandated all airlines and hotels refer to Taiwan and Tibet as part of the one oppressive China. In this case, the controversy directly bears on Taiwan’s sovereignty. Lead actor Lawrence Ko expressed support for Taiwanese independence, as is his right as a citizen of a democracy. Of course, Beijing found that unacceptable and banned his latest film. The irony is there is absolutely nothing political about this debut film from a Hou Hsiao-hsien protégé. It is all about the difficulty of forging and maintaining human bonds (something the Chinese CP isn’t helping any little bit). Nevertheless, three young people will make connections in Huang Xi’s Hou-executive produced Missing Johnny (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

In this profound threat to Peoples’ Republic’s delicate self-esteem, a handyman living out of his car, an autistic son craving more independence, and a young woman working part-time in youth hostel try to navigate modern life in Taipei as best they can. Nobody is more disappointed in Hsu Zi-qi than she is. She lives in a flat mostly paid for by an arrogant boyfriend she rarely sees. Most of her time is spent with her parrots and answering frequent wrong numbers for a mysterious Johnny, until Chang Yi-feng starts working on her landlady’s next-door building.

Chang mostly crashes in his car, but he frequently eats with the family of a former teacher, who consider him part of the family. Unfortunately, it is a roaring dysfunctional family, whose meals often end in arguments between the aging mother and father. Nothing like that happens with Lee Li and his controlling mother, but he starts rebelling in quiet ways.

Admittedly, it takes a bit of time for Missing Johnny to get in gear, but that arguably makes its subtle payoffs all the more rewarding. It is tough to really connect, so if Hsu and Chang can do so, even to a modest degree, that is still something.

Needless to say, you can see Hou’s influence all over the film. In fact, one scene looks very much like a deliberate homage to the striking opening of Millennium Mambo. Yet, despite the characters’ past disappointments and Huang’s generally naturalistic approach, they film instills optimism and warm feelings, which are hard to find in any kind of cinema these days.

One thing can be said with certainty: Rima Zeidan is going to be an international mega-star. She has already justly won several awards for her luminous but acutely sensitive debut as Hsu. Ko, the trouble-maker, also gives a wonderfully understated yet richly complex performance as Chang (okay, he is a nice guy, but he’s more than that). Sean Huang gets much less screen-time in comparison, but he admirably avoids shtick, cliché, and theatrics, making Lee a fully dimensional person.

Missing Johnny is a deceptively simple, deeply resonant film. Banning such a humanistic work is truly an act of folly. There are no pat takeaways and not a great deal of closure, but Huang leaves us feeling like we can find meaning in the world—not a lot, but enough. Affectionately recommended for admirers of Hou and the cinema of the great independent nation of Taiwan, Missing Johnny screens this Saturday afternoon (7/7) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: The Empty Hands

Typically, practicing karate will get your butt kicked in a Hong Kong movie. That is because it is Japanese. Japanese-Hong Konger Mari Hirakawa is keenly aware of that fact. Hong Kong has been her only home, yet she remains highly insecure about her otherness. It is one reason why she rebelled against the karate her sensei father forced her to study, but miscommunication and family dysfunction were even greater factors. After his passing, Hirakawa finally confronts his legacy in Chapman To’s The Empty Hands (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Since two-thirds of their Hong Kong flat were devoted to her father’s dojo, Hirakawa has always been forced to live with karate. HK real estate being what it is, she continued to live there as an adult, despite her resentment of her father. Things got particularly frosty when he made it clear he did not approve of her relationship with a married DJ. Then he died. It was not Hirakawa who found her father, but his loyal student and junior instructor, Mute Dog (so-called, because he is mute).

Hirakawa does indeed inherit the flat, but she does not have free and clear possession of the title. Much to her surprise, the sensei left a 51% share to his former protégé Chan Kent, an ex-con recently released from jail. When he takes over the dojo, the neighborhood kids start flocking back. However, he offers her a deal. If she can make it through three rounds of a local tournament without quitting or getting knocked out, he will sign his stake in the flat over to her.

Unlike Unbeatable, Empty Hands is sort of an anti-Rocky movie the subverts all the big match clichés. Even in The Karate Kid, there were bright lights and large crowds of spectators for the climatic fight scenes, but Hirakawa’s tournament takes place in what looks like a converted office building, with only her bestie Peggy and a bored old lady for an audience.

Previously known for rom-coms, Stephy Tang pulled a Matthew McConaughey with Empty Hands, winning awards and redefining herself as a thesp (she is also receiving the NYAFF’s Screen International Rising Star Asia Award this year). It is an honest and brittle performance that completely disregards any concern for cuteness or likability. Frankly, it is often frustrating to watch her self-destructive, self-pitying behavior, but she Tang gives it an element of existential defiance that is quite striking.

Even though Chapman To’s big breakout came in the Infernal Affairs films, he has mostly been doing light comedy in recent years, so it is refreshing to see him play it straight and understated as Chan Kent. Once again, Dada Chan brings a touching sweetness to Peggy, who would be a real throwaway character if she were played by anyone else. However, the real unsung hero is journeyman character actor Stephen Au, who is quite memorable as Mute Dog, in ways both gritty and poignant.

Someone ought to program The Empty Hands with Vimal Vaz’s HK-set Jade Dragon, because they both explore martial arts as a means of empowerment. The tow films also incorporate themes of responsibility and inheritance. To’s feature is even less genre-driven and possibly too ambiguous for many of his fans, but the star of Vulgaria definitely announces himself as a director of surprising sensitivity. Recommended for mature martial arts enthusiasts, The Empty Hands screens Friday evening (7/6) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Hit the Night

Jeong Ga-young’s latest film has been described as a female counterpoint to Hong Sang-soo’s work and when judged according to the sheer volume of alcohol consumed by the characters, the comparison could not be more apt. Watching this film could make your liver hurt. Some of the awkward silences and brutal truth-telling sting a little too. There will be talking and drinking in Jeong’s Hit the Night (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Jeong, playing Ga-young, a deliberately meta version of herself, has invited a dude acquaintance out for drinks to ask him a series of questions on sex and relationships, ostensibly as research for a prospective screenplay. However, as the night advances and the questions probe into increasingly personal territory, Jin-hyeok starts to understand this may all be a gambit to seduce him. In fact, Ga-young will say as much herself, but the potential screenplay is probably still a secondary concern.

Even though Jin-hyeok has a girlfriend, he is perversely fascinated by Ga-young’s frankness. The alcohol is probably a factor. They also load up on sugar from grazing on fruit and pastries at a late-night tea house. Initially, Jin-hyeok seems to betray the intimate vibe when he invites a friend to join him, but perhaps there is a method to his madness.

If you dig talky movies, then Hit the Night will be like The Avengers assembling in Jurassic World for you. They talk in Night—boy, do they ever—but it is some razor-sharp, lethally pointed dialog. The NYAFF description suggests this is an empowered feminist response to Hong, but that is really more what the writer wants it to be, rather than what it necessarily is. Arguably, Jeong is way harder on herself than she is on horndog guys. Indeed, she gives Jin-hyeok the upper hand throughout the second and third acts. Yet, that only reinforces the Hong parallels, because few filmmakers have so thoroughly deconstructed the male ego as has Hong.

Jeong makes her namesake sly and likable, but also more than a bit of a mess. She looks at herself with gutsy honesty. As Jin-hyeok, Park Jong-hwan constantly surprises, playing the part like he has one foot in a Neil LaBute film and the other foot in My Dinner with Andre. Yet, it is Hyung Seul-woo who comes out of nowhere and completely charms us as Jin-hyeok’s karaoke buddy, but the film is too realistic to let him take over as Jeong’s romantic interest/foil.

After watching Hit the Night, you definitely feel like you spent the night haunting Seoul’s late-night hang-spots, mostly in a good way. Jeong seems to know the scene well, because she conveys a strong sense of its vibe. So, gun-bae everybody. Recommended for fans of Hong and dialog-driven indies, Hit the Night screens this Friday (7/6) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: Neomanila

The “squad” part of death squad would imply a sizable number of goons, but the demand for extrajudicial killings (EJK) in the Philippines is so high, it has spawned a cottage industry of small, self-starting assassination teams. In fact, business is so brisk for Irma and her partner, they take on a pseudo-apprentice in Mikhail Red’s Neomanila (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Toto was trying to raise bail for his brother Kiko, but rival gang-members and their crooked cop allies got to him first. Alone in the world, he is taken in by Irma, who runs a two-man hit squad out of her rat-infested exterminator store (yes, ironies abound). Her partner is Raul, who is also a somewhat ambiguous lover, but there is no question the mysterious “Sarge” is the boss.

In between hits, Irma and Toto quickly develop a surrogate mother and son relationship. The young street kid is also eager to contribute to the business, which Raul tolerates and maybe even respects. Nevertheless, life remains perilous in Metro Manila, especially for those operating on the extreme margins.

Probably the cleverest and most inventive film addressing the EJK phenomenon remains Dean Colin Marcial’s super-charged short film Manila Death Squad, but Neomanila definitely makes an impression—and its point. It is a lot like the pre-Duterte death squad film Clash, but with greater thriller elements. One thing is for sure, it makes the city look absolutely terrifying.

Soap Opera star Eula Valdez is terrific as Irma. She makes her ruthlessly Darwinistic behavior absolutely believable, even when we are totally shocked by her actions. Likewise, the already quite accomplished Timothy Castillo looks and acts like a real-life street tough as the shockingly young, but ever so jaded Toto. Frankly, nobody looks like they are acting in Neomanila, which is quite impressive (and more than a bit disturbing), especially since there are a number of well-established thesps in supporting roles.

No doubt about it, this is dark and bracing cinema. It is also impressive filmmaking, which is never depressing to watch. Highly recommended, Neomanila screens Thursday evening (7/5) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’18: The Scythian Lamb

Yeah, let’s hear it for rehabilitation. It will save the aging seaside town of Uobuka. Under the mayor’s secret new plan, six convicted murders have been granted early parole on the condition they commit to live in the quiet community for ten years, to help reverse the outbound flow of residents to the bigger cities. Right, what could possibly go wrong with that plan? It is the job of poor city bureaucrat Hajime Tsukisue to make sure the scheme runs smoothly, but some of the new residents will not be so cooperative in Daihachi Yoshida’s The Scythian Lamb (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival.

Tsukisue picks them up, one by one, and helps them settle in, but he is largely unaware of their history. Hiroki Fukumoto is rather nervous, but that is okay. He’ll just be working with scissors and razors as an employee of the town barber shop. Reiko Ota will be an unusually sexy orderly at the senior center, which is all fine with Tsukisue, until she commences a relationship with his father. Shigero Ono is obviously a crusty old Yakuza, but he is truly disgusted with his former life. Kiyomi Kurimoto is still very tightly-wound, but is she ever diligent when it comes to cleaning. The thuggish, unrepentant Katsushi Sugiyama will be trouble. The rather spacey Ichiro Miyakoshi could be even more so, but initially he rather takes to the small town.

In fact, Tsukisue finds him a rather pleasant chap. They even develop a friendship until Miyakoshi starts dating Aya, Tsukisue’s high school crush (and current garage band-mate), who recently returned from Tokyo, after a job and a relationship went sour.  Obviously, six murderers in one town is a poorly conceived exercise in social engineering that will inevitably come to a head—logically during the annual festival dedicated to the town’s mythical sea monster, Nororo.

Masahito Kagawa’s adaption of the source manga starts out as a sort of fish out of water comedy, but Scythian Lamb (a reference to Tartary myth that isn’t worth the time to explain) swerves into noir territory during the second act. Frankly, the film probably takes a dimmer view of rehabilitation than it sounds like the original manga did. In this case of the film, the more reformed the killer, the more over-prosecuted they were in the first place. Yet, Miyakoshi is a special, specially troubling case. Ryuhei Matsuda almost reprises his performance as the awkward alien invader in Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Before We Vanish, but he gives Miyakoshi a greater undercurrent of menace.

Likewise, Ryo Nishikido brings out greater depth and dimension in Tsukikue than his mild-mannered demeanor initially suggests. Yuka (uni-named), Min Tanaka, and Mikako Ichikawa all shine in key supporting moments, as Ota, Ono, and Kurimoto, respectively, while Kazuki Kitamura is aptly loathsome as Sugiyama. He can set off your inner spider-sense with just an evil side-long glance.

There are some terrific performances in Scythian, but whoever designed the Nororo statue overlooking the sea deserved a cold, frosty Sapporo. This is a richly rewarding film, precisely because it is so tricky to pin down. Very highly recommended, The Scythian Lamb screens Thursday night (7/5) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.