Review: "Mother" (2009)

“Mother” combines family drama, murder mystery, horror and dark comedy into a suspenseful and intelligent thriller. The premise is deceptively simple: how far will a mother go to protect her child and prove him innocent of a crime?

In the hands of the talented Korean director, Bong Joon-ho, the mother is a lonely and overly-protective woman whose life is devoted to caring for her mentally disabled twenty-something son, Do-Joon. One day a young girl from the neighborhood is found brutally murdered and, based on flimsy circumstantial evidence, Do-Joon is hastily charged with the crime. Faced with a lackadaisical police system and a lazy lawyer, the mother has no recourse but to investigate the crime herself and will stop at nothing to prove her son’s innocence.

As with his previous work, Bong Joon-ho weaves together an exciting, off-kilter psychological thriller filled with mysterious characters, surprising twists and turns, stellar performances and underlying social commentary (in this case, a critique of the criminal justice system). Especially noteworthy is Kim Hye-ja’s performance as the mother: she adeptly embodies a mother’s loving and protective aspects while expressing a subtle undercurrent of hysteria that drives her obsession to free her son. Bin Won, apparently cast against type as he’s considered the “hot guy” in Korea, also gives a moving performance as Do-Joon: a gentle, innocent and moody man-boy who remains an enigma. Kudos must also be given to the cinematography: the use of distorted angles and a muted blue/gray color palette effectively communicate the film’s dark and disturbing tone.

Review: "Departures" (2008)

“Departures” is a magical film, filled with gorgeous imagery and realistic and likeable characters, which sensitively chronicles the journey of unemployed cellist Daigo as he returns with his wife to his hometown in northern Japan and embarks upon a new career as a mortician.

While the notion of a film about an undertaker may seem off-putting at first glance, director Yojiro Takita focuses on the unsentimental and reverent “encoffinment” ceremony (known in Japanese as Nokanshi) as a means of celebrating the preciousness of human life. He is helped by a well-crafted script that avoids melodrama and balances both the farcical and tender moments encountered during this rite of passage. When we first encounter Daigo at his new job he is terrified and disgusted by the corpses. Through a rigorous, Zen-like training similar to that of the Japanese tea ceremony, he finally comes to understand the depth of emotion and catharsis that the ritual arouses in the families of the deceased. Along the way, he achieves his own redemption as he confronts and reconciles personal demons from the past and regains the respect of his wife and friends.

Mr. Takata has a masterful eye for visual details that flesh out the main characters and a talent for drawing out fine performances from all his actors. Cinematography is exceptional and the cello score composed by Joe Hisaishi complements the melancholy tone.

While there are distinct Buddhist thematic undertones, “Departures” is a universal tale that, through examining the rituals associated with this final rite of passage, reminds us to honor life in the here and now.

Review: "Thirst" (2009)

With “Thirst”, Korean director Park Chan-wook crafts a visually stylish twist on the vampire myth that succeeds both as a classic bloodstained horror movie and as a psychological drama that explores the dark depths of human nature.

Taking as its inspirational source the novel “Therese Raquin” by French author Emile Zola, “Thirst” focuses on the story of a good Catholic priest who, while volunteering for a dangerous medical experiment to treat a deadly disease, is accidentally transformed into a vampire. A reluctant vampire, he slurps blood from the IV tubes of comatose hospital patients rather than kill innocent people. Unfortunately for him, his bloodlust also manifests as an unquenchable “thirst” for the beautiful wife of his childhood friend. And so begins a time-tested tale of suffering, death and redemption.

Aside from a compelling story which is refreshed by being transported to modern day Korea, “Thirst” excels at conveying the intense feelings associated with desire and how they lead to complete destruction. Cinematography, set design and music work together to evoke a sense of claustrophobia and desperation.

The performances of the lead actors are also top-notch. Song Kang-ho captures the sense of forlornness appropriate for a priest turned vampire. But it is Kim Ok-bin who shines in the "Therese Raquin" role, transforming her character from innocence to sensuality and culminating in demonic rage.

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: "Nana" (2005)

Adapted from a popular manga, “Nana” is an engaging film about friendship, relationships and pursuing one’s dreams. It’s both a female buddy film with empowering messages for young women and a coming-of-age drama that offers a glimpse into Japanese youth culture and the punk rock music scene.

“Nana” kicks off with a chance encounter on a Tokyo-bound train between bubbly Nana Komatsu, an aspiring art student following her boyfriend to the city, and brooding Nana Osaki, a tattooed punk rocker who's broken up with her boyfriend and hopes to jumpstart a music career. Although very different in personality, the pair get along and eventually become roommates. Helping each other navigate turbulent times in their romantic relationships, the two girls form a close friendship, gain insights into their character and learn to rely on their own instincts in the pursuit of happiness.

Stylishly directed by Kentaro Otani, “Nana” contains vibrant music and moments of visual beauty. The appealing performances by the two lead actresses contribute to the overall uplifting and feel-good vibe of the movie.

Review: "Yi Yi" (2000)

“Yi Yi” is a sensitive and uplifting drama about life as seen through the eyes of each member of a middle-class Taiwanese family. Capturing both the mundane and profound, the film focuses on each member’s personal story while also illuminating the larger canvas of contemporary Taipei society.

Working with a slow, lingering pace and harnessing the power of silence to convey truth, director Edward Yang produces a compelling tale of love, friendship and the quest to discover life’s meaning. At the center of the story is NJ, a despondent computer executive who finds his work life unfulfilling and his personal life fraught with crises: his mother-in-law falls into a coma, his wife suffers a spiritual breakdown and he reconnects with his former fiancee. At the same time his teenage daughter befriends a next-door neighbor and experiences the pangs of first love while his 8-year old son takes up photography, capturing pictures of the backs of people’s heads in order to show them something they haven’t seen before.

Although the film runs almost 3 hours, it’s never boring. With interesting characters and subtle acting performances, “Yi Yi” rewards the viewer with insightful and resonant observations about life, in all its wonder and weirdness.

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: "Painted Skin" (2008)

“Painted Skin” is a satisfying if melodramatic thriller that tells a tale of unrequited love and revenge involving demons and humans. Combining romance with comedy and kung-fu antics in the vein of old-school Hong-Kong supernatural action flicks like the “The Bride with White Hair”, “Painted Skin” is an enjoyable guilty pleasure.

Adapted from a short story by novelist Pu Song Ling, “Painted Skin” is about a fox spirit, disguised as a beautiful woman (Xiao Wei), who falls in love with a handsome warrior (Wang Sheng) and schemes to lure him away from his loyal wife (Pei Rong). Donnie Yen is a former army general and martial artist extraordinaire who teams up with a local demon buster to thwart the fox spirit's plans.

Those expecting visceral horror and fast-paced martial arts may be disappointed. The movie is fairly light on action and the fight scenes are mediocre at best. The romantic drama is compelling as it explores themes of fidelity, loyalty and true love. The showdown between Xiao Wei and Pei Rong is one of the film’s highlights. Cinematography, music and set design are also impressive.

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: "Ashes of Time Redux" (2008)

“Ashes of Time Redux” is Wong Kar Wai’s venture into the martial arts genre. However, energetic action and narrative clarity take a backseat to the visual poetry that contemplates wounded hearts, loneliness and the memories of lost love that cut deeper than any sword. Best appreciated as a sensory experience, “Ashes of Time Redux” unfolds as a series of beautiful yet melancholic images like the soft brush strokes of a Chinese landscape painting. Even the swordfights are shot as swirling, hallucinatory dreamscapes. The haunting desert landscape gorgeously captured in saturated colors by cinematographer Christopher Doyle, a brooding cello score by Yo-Yo Ma and the beauty of the actors (an all-star Hong Kong cast) contribute to a movie experience that both pleases the senses and engages the heart.

Review: "Tokyo!" (2008)

Tokyo! is a collection of 3 short films shot by 3 directors (two from France and 1 from Korea) using Tokyo as the setting. Fittingly, each of the films focuses on characters who are outsiders within Japanese society.

“Interior Design”, directed by Michel Gondry, is a funny and whimsical coming of age story that cleverly toys with the notion of identity and the path to personal fulfillment. Akira, an aspiring filmmaker, and Hiroko, his supportive but aimless girlfriend, have moved to Tokyo to pursue their dreams. They bunk in a friend’s apartment temporarily while Akira sets up film screenings and Hiroko spends her days trying to find an affordable apartment. Her apartment hunting exploits result in some hilarious scenarios that will be familiar to anyone who’s tried to find a decent apartment in a big city.

Realizing that he can’t make a living as an artist, Akira confronts Hiroko about her lack of direction. He believes people are defined by what they do. Forgoing his dream of filmmaking for the moment, Akira finds work as a gift wrapper while Hiroko undergoes a very unusual transformation that takes the idea of “defined by what you do” literally.

“Merde”, directed by Leos Carax, is a semi-parody of the “monster run amok in Tokyo” story that explores themes of xenophobia and terrorism. It is the weirdest and the least engaging of the three films. The monster here is a shabby green-clad, one-eyed foreigner named Merde who lives in the sewers of Tokyo. He emerges each day to inflict havoc among the Japanese – one day he’s merely a pest who pushes people on the street, knocks them down and makes off with their possessions. The next day he’s killing innocent bystanders with grenades. Captured by the police, he confesses that hatred of the Japanese is what drove him to kill. Tried by a jury, he is sentenced to death. While awaiting his death sentence in prison, he becomes a sort of national hero to the non-conformists while the conservatives condemn his actions.

The premise of this story is an interesting one and the film starts with promise but ultimately fails to deliver much of an emotional connection as the central character is relentlessly unlikeable and the scenes set in the prison are rather tedious.

“Shaking Tokyo”, directed by Bong Joon-Ho, is a visually beautiful love story between two recluses (known in Japan as “hikikomori”) that underscores the human need for connection. The story focuses on a young man who has confined himself to his apartment for 10 years. One day a delivery girl arrives with his weekly pizza just as a small earthquake occurs. The girl faints and while tending to her, he falls in love. Desperate to see her again, he summons up the courage to venture outside to find her and discovers that all of Tokyo’s residents have become recluses.

This is a sweet film that is enhanced by its excellent cinematography and lovely views of Tokyo’s quiet back streets. The haunting image of the man walking through the deserted Tokyo streets as he searches for the girl’s home lingers and serves to underscore the isolation and loneliness that one might feel in the concrete jungle.

Review: "Woman in the Dunes" (1964)

“Woman in the Dunes” is a beautifully crafted and thought provoking film that tells a simple story about a man and a woman living at the bottom of a sandpit yet conveys profound wisdom about the nature of human existence and identity.

Based on Kobo Abe’s novel and directed by Hiroshi Teshigahara, “Woman in the Dunes” opens with a simple set-up that is not unlike a horror movie. An entomologist (Eiji Tokada) is wandering among sand dunes in a remote area of Japan searching for bugs. Engrossed in his research, he loses track of time and misses the last bus back to town. He encounters a villager who offers to put him up for the night in the home of a local woman (Kyoko Kishida). The entomologist graciously accepts the offer of hospitality and the villager leads him to a ramshackle hut, curiously located at the base of a sand pit and requiring a steep descent via rope ladder. He awakens the next morning to discover that the rope ladder is gone and he is trapped in the sandpit. Gradually he learns that the villagers have selected him to be the woman’s companion and help her with her daily work of shoveling sand, a necessary task to prevent the hut from being engulfed. As he struggles to find a way to escape, he develops a relationship with the woman that transforms his life.

The story of the man and the woman, two very different people who likely would never meet in the outside world, and the strange bond of companionship and responsibility that develops between them is emotionally compelling. He is an urban, educated man who values rational, scientific knowledge and disdains the experiential knowledge of the villagers. Elitist and arrogant, he refuses to demean himself by shoveling sand, believing that manual labor is beneath him. He professes to be fascinated with sand bugs and their environment but seems more interested in making a name for himself. His social status defines him. The woman is earthy, humble and hardworking. She lives day by day and shovels sand to survive and to obtain food and provisions from the village. Her nature is emotional and intuitive and she longs for companionship, having lost her husband and daughter during a violent sandstorm.

One of the themes that resonates is the struggle to find a connection to others and how our identity can shift as we adapt to changing conditions. Early on, the man admits that his fascination with sand and his desire to escape from the bustle of Tokyo brought him to the village. It’s ironic that, when given all the time in the world to live as he desires, he feels trapped and spends his energy struggling to escape. In the end, as he develops a close bond with the woman and discovers something valuable in the sand that could benefit the entire village, he is transformed into a new self, someone who has humbled himself and forged a connection to others.

The sand itself is a major character and the images of it are some of the most beautiful captured on film. A metaphor for life (or “flow”), the sand in “Woman in the Dunes” is not dry and unyielding; rather, it is a fluid, constantly shifting entity that changes the nature of things. It is everywhere -- seeping through the ceiling, blowing ferociously through the doors, sticking to the body, sensually cradling the man and woman during intimate moments. The more the man tries to escape the sand, to conquer it, the more it beats him back down. He realizes that he cannot shape the sand to his will. Ultimately, it is the sand that shapes him.

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: "Mongol" (2007)

“Mongol” fuses compelling drama, a heartbreaking love story and visceral action into a visually stunning historical epic. The introductory piece of a potential trilogy, “Mongol” focuses on the early life of Temudgin, the fierce warrior who would unite all Mongols to become the legendary Genghis Khan.

The narrative traces the early life of Temudgin from his dangerous childhood to the decisive battle that seals his position as the leader of all Mongols. Covering much ground, the film wisely focuses on the two defining relationships of Temudgin’s early years: his love for Borte, his wife and trusted advisor, and his friendship and subsequent conflict with Jamukha, his blood brother and a rival Mongol chieftain.

The love story between Temudgin and Borte is one of the highlights of the film, with an emotional resonance comparable to “Dr. Zhivago”. The tender bond between the two is palpable and we instinctively know that their forced separations will drive them to desperate actions. It is to director Sergei Bodrov’s credit that he allows the viewer time to appreciate the tender moments between Temudgin and Borte without feeling the need to rush toward the next battle scene.

The battle scenes themselves are ferocious. The camera slows down and weaves chaotically amongst the fighters making you feel as if you are right there in the midst of battle. Blood flows freely in the stylistic “300” mode. The cinematography is stellar, capturing the desolate and dangerous beauty of the Mongolian landscape. The sense of place and time helps to underscore the film’s epic scale.

The acting is very good overall. Tadanobu Asano captures the stoic yet fiery Temudgin in an understated yet powerful performance. Khulan Chuulun, a Mongolian newcomer, portrays Borte as a spirited and courageous woman. But the powerhouse performance belongs to Honglei Sun whose Jamukha is transformed into a feral, ferocious beast.

Review: "Tony Takitani" (2004)

Adapted from a short story by Haruki Murakami, "Tony Takitani" is a visual meditation on the pain of loneliness and the ways in which humans struggle to fill its void. Unfolding as a series of images punctuated with haunting voice-over narration and a mournful piano score, the film succeeds as pure poetry by evoking a deeply melancholic mood.

The camera moves quietly, steadily, from left to right slowly propelling us on a journey through the life of Tony Takitani, a solitary man whose life revolves around his work as a technical illustrator. His isolation is transformed when he meets Eiko, a vibrant younger women who floats into his life as if from another world. He is captivated by her clothes: "she wore her clothes naturally, as though enveloped by a special breeze" says the film's narrator. As he becomes more alive in her presence and begins to fall in love, we sense his growing dependency on her to fill an emptiness he had never before noticed. When Eiko confides to him that "clothes fill up what's missing inside of me" we recognize a similar dependency. They marry, begin to build a life together but tragedy ensues when Tony tries to address his wife's growing obsession with clothes.

"Loneliness is like a prison" says the film's narrator. In the end, it is an apt metaphor. The absurdity, which this film highlights so eloquently, is that these prisons are largely self-constructed. By denying our need for human connection, avoiding any possibility of pain as well as joy, we are no more than prisoners isolated in our cells.

Review: "Chunking Express" (1994)

Two tales of love and loss unfold in Wong Kar Wai’s whimsical, romantic drama, “Chunking Express”. Each vignette features a lonely Hong Kong policeman dealing with the break-up of a relationship.

Taking its cue from classic film noir, the first story stars the handsome Takeshi Kaneshiro as a young detective who’s given himself 30 days to reunite with his ex-girlfriend. He marks each night alone by consuming a can of pineapple with a specific expiration date. Eventually he encounters Brigitte Lin’s femme fatale, a player trying to survive in the drug underworld after a smuggling deal goes wrong.

The second story stars Tony Leung as a patrol cop recovering from a break-up with a flight attendant. His coping ritual involves conversations with inanimate objects in his apartment, such as an old towel, a bar of soap and a stuffed bear to whom he pours out his sadness. Every day, he goes for coffee at the same snack bar where he meets up with the new counter girl, played by Hong Kong pop singer Faye Wong,

While in the vein of simple boy-loses-girl-meets-new-girl stories, the unique visual style in which the stories are told is anything but ordinary. Wong uses his trademark impressionistic style to create a restless energy and evoke strong emotions while painting a realistic portrait of people coping with loneliness, despair and boredom. His hand-held camera is frenetic, always moving. The action sequences feature unusual angles and stop-motion jumps.

The Hong Kong setting stands out as its own character, contributing a bustling energy that contrasts sharply with the solitude of the two cops as they muddle through their days.

All the lead actors are compelling to watch onscreen and manage to make their idiosyncracies believable. Faye Wong is a revelation here: she imbues her character with an appealing quirkiness and optimism. And it's that hopeful spirit that lingers on after the closing credits.