Review: "A Thousand Years of Good Prayers" (2007)

“It takes 1,000 years of good prayers for a father and daughter to get along”. Thus begins “A Thousand Years of Good Prayers”: a touching portrait of a Chinese father and daughter trying to bridge the vast gap of geography, language and culture that divides them.

Based on a story by Li Yi Yun about an elderly man who travels from Beijing to Washington state to visit his recently divorced daughter he’s not seen in many years, “A Thousand Years of Good Prayers” is a wistful meditation on loneliness, connecting with strangers and the communication gap between parent and child. Henry O gives a subtle and heartfelt performance as Mr. Shi, a traditional Chinese father who is worried about his Americanized daughter and questions her decidedly non-traditional lifestyle choices. In turn, the daughter Yilan (Faye Yu) is defensive and resents her father’s meddling into her private life. Over the course of his short visit, they gradually open up and reveal some hidden secrets that enable them to begin to heal their relationship. Director Wayne Wang complements the father-daughter drama with a modest yet moving minor story between Mr. Shi and Madam, an Iranian immigrant he encounters in a local park, as they form a close bond talking about their children.

Overall, this is a quiet film - filled with moments of tenderness, humor and sadness - that illustrates some universal truths about human connection and how encounters between strangers can be more intimate than those amongst family.

Review: "The Curse of the Golden Flower" (2006)

“The Curse of the Golden Flower” melds Shakespearean-style tragedy with elegant martial arts, beautiful actors and extravagant sets and costumes. The result is Dynasty, Chinese-style, which is not at all a bad thing.

Set during the late Tang Dynasty, the movie focuses on the decaying marriage of a cruel Emperor (Chow Yun Fat) and his moody and secretive wife (Gong Li) and the power struggle between them as each plots the other’s complete destruction. The family dysfunction also extends to their three sons who are pitted against each other and their parents in a Confucian battle of filial piety and brotherly rivalry that can only end in blood.

Even though the story is reminiscent of a TV soap opera replete with passionate affairs, betrayals and revenge, it’s elevated by the strong performances of both Chow Yun Fat and Gong Li. Mr. Chow delivers a performance of controlled and fierce intensity and is complemented by the inspiring Ms. Gong who fully embodies a woman struggling under the weight of oppression.

The production design is impressive, featuring a bright palette of reds and yellows. Its flamboyant excess serves to underscore the oppressiveness of the Empress’ plight as she struggles to free herself from the gilded cage. And the contrast between the external beauty of the palace and the inner darkness of the characters is startling.

Martial arts enthusiasts may be somewhat disappointed as the action sequences are not as viscerally thrilling as in Mr. Zhang’s “Hero” and “House of Flying Daggers”. The final battle scene featuring a wave of gold and black clothed soldiers trampling through endless fields of bright yellow chrysanthemum flowers is breathtaking.

Most of Mr. Zhang’s films have featured subtle critiques of traditional Confucian customs and “The Curse of the Golden Flower” continues this tradition. By focusing his lens on the imperial family and the Confucian code that it symbolizes, Mr. Zhang crafts a tragic tale of a woman driven to the brink of madness by the absolute power wielded by a man.

Review: "Green Tea" (2003)

“Green Tea” is a stylish and off-beat drama about male-female relationships in modern China whose strong acting performances can’t overcome a lackluster narrative.

Wu Fang, a shy and conservative graduate student who is looking for a suitable marriage partner, meets Ming Liang, an outgoing and roguish older man, on a blind date in a cafe. Although they don’t click at first, a relationship forms over numerous cups of tea as Wu Fang confides to Ming Liang a shocking story about an emotionally damaged childhood “friend”. Complications ensue when Ming Liang encounters Lang Lang, a sexy piano player who happens to look just like Wu Fang, and becomes attracted to her.

Most of the film focuses on storytelling conversations between Ming Liang and Wu Fang in pristine cafes and Ming Liang and Lang Lang in sultry lounges. The relatively dry and ponderous dialogue is offset by the beautiful cinematography of Christopher Doyle and the compelling performances of the lead actors who manage to convey a range of emotions with small gestures and subtle eye movements.

Doyle’s camera work is interesting and drives a visual energy that is lacking in the narrative. He uses lots of close-ups of the actors’ faces and interesting angles to showcase modern Beijing. And never have tea leaves been so lovingly photographed as they swirl seductively in a glass.

For moviegoers interested in understanding Chinese culture and the evolution of modern relationships, “Green Tea” is worth viewing as it explores the difficulties that urban Chinese women face in looking for a committed relationship in an increasingly Westernized society that seems to value surface more than depth. In that world, the shy, spectacle-wearing Wu Fang, who has trouble attracting men, is on the same plane as the flashy and provocative Lang Lang, who can’t get men to see beyond her physical attributes.

Review: "Still Life" (2006)

“Still Life”, directed by Zhang Jia Ke, is a detailed and contemplative slice-of-life drama that shines a spotlight on contemporary working-class China. Set during the construction of the Three Gorges Dam, Zhang weaves together two distinct stories of outsiders coming to the village of Fengjie to search for lost spouses.

In the first narrative, a middle-aged coalminer arrives from Shanxi Province to reunite with his ex-wife whom he hasn’t seen for sixteen years. Upon learning that she has moved to another town to work and only sporadically visits Fengjie, he decides to stay on indefinitely to work on a demolition project while awaiting her return. The second story focuses on a young nurse who is trying to track down her missing husband who abandoned the family two years ago. She is helped in her quest by her husband’s friend, a local archaeologist. Through the time they spend in Fengjie, both characters come to understand the impact the dam project has had on the local people and how it has influenced their own lives.

As the human drama unfolds, “Still Life” also explores the story of the construction of the Three Gorges Dam which looms as an important character in itself, shaping everyone’s lives. The dam can be viewed as a metaphor for dislocation and the cycle of destruction and renewal. We see the impact on the local inhabitants who have no choice but to adapt as old buildings and entire villages are demolished and established ways of life are lost. This theme of destruction/reconstruction is also mirrored in the stories of the two main characters.

The documentary visual style of “Still Life”, with its detailed attention to people and places, heightens its emotional impact. We realize that what’s been captured on film is a historic transition, an archival record of the human cost of China’s rapid fire modernization.

Review: "The Legend of the Black Scorpion" (2006)

Inspired by Shakespeare’s “Hamlet”, “The Legend of the Black Scorpion” (originally screened in Hong Kong under the title “Ye Yan” or “Night Banquet”) presents a visually gorgeous façade that cloaks a story that is emotionally hollow.

Taking place during the Tang Dynasty, Zhang Ziyi stars as Little Wan who is secretly in love with the Crown Prince Wu Luan (Daniel Wu). When his father takes Little Wan as his bride and Empress, the young Prince is banished into exile where he spends his time studying the dramatic arts. But he becomes the target of assassins when his Uncle Li murders his father and takes over both throne and Empress. Escaping death he returns to the palace to plot revenge. Political and romantic entanglements ensue hurtling toward a midnight banquet where death is predictably on the menu. The twist on the Hamlet story is that “The Legend of the Black Scorpion” is told from the perspective of the Empress Wan whose desire for love is equal to her desire for power.

“The Legend of the Black Scorpion” is beautifully filmed and unfolds like a stage play: the cinematography, set design and costumes are exceptional. Unfortunately, it is primarily the visual spectacle that dazzles as the film fails to deliver on the powerful emotions that should resonate with such an epic story. Add to that an overly complex plot which obscures who is conspiring against whom coupled with a relentlessly bleak tone and the result is a film that struggles to engage the viewer on a deeper level.

Although Zhang Ziyi gives a charismatic performance as the Empress Wan, the complexity of her character -- the struggle between her ambition and her love for the Crown Prince -- is not fully realized. This may be a function of her youth (the role was originally written for the older actress Gong Li) as Zhang’s Empress comes across more as a petulant girl than a seasoned woman who is driven by her ambition and desire for power to deception and betrayal.

The kung-fu acrobatics are beautiful to watch but don’t really pack much of a punch for anyone hoping for full on action. Yuen Woo-Ping choreographs the action in a highly stylized and sometimes surreal manner reminiscent of a slow-motion ballet, with lots of flying and floating but very little direct combat. The most creative action sequence takes place early on when the Crown Prince and his theatrical troupe battle the Emperor’s assassins in an open-air theatre in the midst of a bamboo forest.

Review: "Tuya's Marriage" (2008)

“Tuya’s Marriage” is a quiet yet powerful drama that explores the plight of one woman as she struggles to provide economic security for her family in the unforgiving Mongolian desert. Aside from the exotic setting, the landscape of complex human emotions that this film surveys is universal.

Tuya is an attractive, resilient, sensible and stubborn woman who ekes out a living herding sheep and cares for her disabled husband Batoer and two young children. She tends to a flock of 100 sheep, hauls water from a distant well twice a day, cooks, cleans and makes a mean milk tea. It’s backbreaking labor, literally, and one day she suffers a back injury while helping to lift a truck which has pinned a neighbor’s leg. Advised by a doctor to lighten her load, she chooses to divorce her husband with his consent and look for a new one -- a broad-minded fellow -- who will agree to take care of the entire family, including the ex-husband.

A parade of suitors follows, almost as many as Tuya has sheep. There is a quirky humor in the courtship rituals as each suitor arrives with his own entourage to plead his case. The first group arrives on horseback and tractor, the next via motorcycle and the last in a Mercedes-Benz, mirroring the economic hierarchy of a nation in transition as modern ways encroach upon ancient traditions. Tuya’s suitors include a former classmate made rich through oil prospecting who tries to impress her with his material wealth and a buffoonish buy loyal neighbor whose wife is always leaving him for another man. Of course, love is not the goal and it really doesn’t matter whom she chooses as long as he agrees to her terms and conditions. And make no mistake – Tuya is a survivor and will have her way.

Nevertheless, the tone remains solemn as we see the emotional turmoil that consumes Tuya’s family. Batoer attempts suicide and Tuya and her children continue to struggle with manual labor. Both the cinematography and music support the film’s melancholy tone. The camera captures austere images of the vast Mongolian steppe, revealing the harshness of the nomadic life. The haunting cello instrumentals underscore the bleak mood.

Kudos must be given to Yu Nan, the Chinese actress who portrays Tuya. Her performance is subtle yet powerfully moving, reminiscent of a young Gong Li. She imbues Tuya with a no-nonsense, tough-as-nails exterior yet we are always aware of the pain and despair lurking just below the surface.

Review: "CJ7" (2008)

This is a refreshing little gem of a flick that melds Stephen Chow’s knack for slapstick comedy with an ET-like story about a poor Chinese boy and an alien. The result is a quirky, delightful family film with plenty of heart and lessons to be learned.

The story revolves around Dicky Chow, a very poor boy whose father Ti, a construction worker, toils day and night so that his son can attend an elite private school. Dicky is bullied at school by rich kids and haughty teachers alike for his smudge marked face, tattered clothes and stubborn pride.

While the school bullies flaunt their high-tech toys, Dicky’s father combs through the local garbage dump at night gathering discarded “treasures” for his son. One night he unknowingly disturbs an alien spaceship that flies away, leaving behind a small, shiny green orb. He brings it home for Dicky to play with and soon enough the toy transforms into a cute, furry dog-like alien that Dicky names “CJ7” (after a toy called CJ1 that is popular among the school kids).

There ensue some very funny moments as Dicky fantasizes about harnessing CJ7’s superpowers to excel in schoolwork and sports class. Although he soon realizes that CJ7 does not possess the powers he imagines, his schoolmates are quite impressed by the toy and his stock is on the rise until his father is involved in an accident at work.

What keeps this movie grounded is the warm rapport between Dicky and Ti despite their bleak circumstances and the talented cast of child actors. Jiao Xu, the actress (!) who plays Dicky, is fantastic. She gives a well-rounded and nuanced performance, portraying Dicky as both rebellious yet optimistic.

Although CJ7 offers an assortment of messages for children, it does so in a light-hearted, hopeful manner. On the one hand, it demonstrates that there is no shame in poverty and that integrity and family bonds are more important than material possessions and class status. While this message seems uniquely tailored to modern China as it struggles with the growing divide between rich and poor, the lessons are equally relevant to anyone feeling numbed by an increasingly consumerist culture. On another level, it also illustrates the dark side of the adage “be careful what you wish for”.