Kailangan Kita - A Decent Effort.

Director: Rory B. Quintos
Language: Filipino. Tagalog.
Release Year: 2002.
Rating: * *1/2

This is my very first time experiencing a Filipino flick, and it wasn't a total disaster. The movie had a decent story at best, backed up by very credible performances, with some sentimental clichés thrown in to spice up the overall package.

Carl (Aga Muhlach) is returning to his roots, after having tasted success in New York as a chef for almost 15-odd years. The occasion is his wedding with another Filipino, Chrissy, who also immigrated to America and started her career as a model. Now a supermodel, busy with one of her shoots in Milan, she fails to meet her fiance at the airport, leaving Carl to his own intellect to deal with his future in-laws and the whole bunch in tow.

Bicoli, Chrissy’s hometown where the wedding is scheduled to take place, pales in expectation to Carl’s comparison with New York. He doesn’t hold back in carping about every aspect of the place. Thrown right in the middle of his future in-laws and their circle of acquaintances, Carl manages to impress just about everyone; not a tough ask, considering he’s handsome and a Filipino who has carved a niche for himself in America. However, he doesn’t have the same effect on Papay (Johnny Delgado), Carl’s future father-in-law. A patriarch, he has everyone under his thumb, and runs quite an autocratic setting, with hardly any room for personal ambitions that may deviate from his etched-in-stone norms. Utilising his culinary talent, Carl manages to floor Papay, too, eventually, and they soon build a very good rapport.

However, one member of the family, whom Carl mistakes as the housemaid, knocks his socks off with her humble beauty and reserved demeanor. Lena (Cluadine Berratto) is Carl’s future sister-in-law, but the moment he saw her, Carl’s face had lit up like a 1000-watt bulb. Thereafter, it was a downhill ride for Carl, slipping on the slippery slope of finding love, yet again, and probably souring his present disposition and the plans of getting married to Lena’s sister. Initially, only Carl feels the butterflies in his tummy, but the effect is soon seen rubbing off on Lena, too. After a rather lousy start, both of them soon start to accommodate each other, and rediscovering themselves as they move along. Carl helps Lena realize how beautiful she is, despite hiding under that garb of a “nobody”. Lena, on the other hand, helps Carl get over his hurting and inglorious past, and nursing his severed relationship with his estranged father. The fully-blossomed camaraderie between the two leads sets in motion a predictable set of events, leading to an intimate moment.

After all the branching developments are brought into the present context and to the notice of other family members of Carl’s in-laws, it’s obvious that climax will form the basis of a resolve, and a satisfying one at that. Including the above-average plot, a decent execution and very competent performances by the ensemble, the movie doesn’t fail to engage you at certain moments, and leaves you admiring some of the mature ingredients used in right quantity and at the right moment. The finale could be categorized as one of those moments, and so can the subplot involving the placating of the bitterness between a son and father. A couple of romantic scenes, too, are used beautifully.

The actors, especially the two leads and Johnny Delgado as Papay, were very talented and sketched their part with flesh and bone. Aga, complementing his good looks, displayed his acting skill, and performed admirably. Johnny, too, maintained the presence of an authoritative figure, demanding respect, and a whiff of intimidation. However, and is always the case with me, it was the leading lady that left an indelible mark. Building on her tranquil outlook, her smothered aspirations and a feeling of being subjugated, Claudine was probably the pick of the lot for me. She handled every scene with a ladylike elegance, throwing in a couple of powerful, emotional punches to the mix occasionally. Add to the beauty, which she let out through her simplicity, and it was just enough reason for me to sit through this, at best, average movie.

Made, probably, on a shoestring budget, but not scrimping on whatever substance they could incorporate, it’s genuinely a decent attempt, well supported by the caste, the almost-picturesque locales, and some exotic side-dishes. Not a bad movie to try when you have nothing to do, and would like to introduce yourself to some Filipino moviemaking.

Ru Guo . Ai - A tad short from being an absolute treat.

AKA: Perhaps Love.
Director: Peter Chan.
Language: Mandarin, Cantonese, English.
Release Year: 2005.
Rating: * * *1/2

Feeding my whim, I followed my last movie with another romantic fare starring the ridiculously adorable Xun Zhou. It’s no surprise that she left me enraptured, but can’t say the same about the movie, though. However, the movie isn’t bad at all. But if you jus take out the abovementioned gorgeous beauty, along with some other elements, from the whole equation, the movie would come across as yet another placid addition to the whole romance genre.

The movie is branched into two: Past and the present. In the present, Sun Na/Xiao Yu (Xun Zhou) is basking in the limelight of her cinematic success. With an auteur for a boyfriend, and barring her initial grind, her journey to the stardom wasn’t ever bound by despair and failure. With her boyfriend casting her in every movie he ever made, Sun never had to worry about her reputation, her fame and the influence she had on the masses. Success for her was being manufactured and manipulated on the editing table by her lover director.

However, in their latest musical project, and with a Hong Kong star as one of the two leads, Sun’s forced to revisit her morose past, which she walked away from 10 years ago, leaving someone heartbroken, betrayed and used. That someone is none other than the signed Hong Kong star Lin Jian-dang/ Zhang Yang (Takeshi Kaneshiro). To add to her misery, the story of this musical mirrors that of her own life, with some uncanny similarities in situations, characters, feelings involved and feelings smothered. Being an overly unyielding individual, putting on a swaggering facade, Sun denies acknowledging Lin’s presence. She keeps her acquaintance extremely platonic and professional. Being at the receiving end of such a heartless dame, lovelorn Lin can’t stand Sun’s deliberate ignorance. Despite his first few failed attempts, Lin pursues her relentlessly and with absolute intent.

Gradually, Lin’s agony and love for Sun manages to produce a rift in the cold shoulder she’s been giving him, compelling her to accept her past where he stood by her, always loving her with all his might, come hell or high water. Whereas, she put her ambition before him and love, ditching Lin twice for a shot at an acting career by clinging onto any director she set her eyes on. Lin would visit all the old places and memories they both were once a part of, hoping that she’d come back. Back in the present, Sun starts to accept her wrongdoings, and tries to do right by Lin. This development doesn’t go unnoticed by Sun’s present lover and the director of the musical Nie Wen (Jacky Cheung). Seeing red, he slips under the role of a circus master, the other lead of the musical. Through his scripted lines and songs, he conveys his hurt and disappointment. Sometimes, even going so far as changing the script on a whim, just to accommodate a scene where he'd lash out at Sun’s character in the musical, thereby letting out his own anger.

Stranded in a predicament, Sun carries on vacillating between the two men, unable to set her heart on one. The movie draws into the climax, with a grand finale scheduled for the musical where the verity of one’s love will be tested, decisions will be made and hearts will be broken. However, the end doesn’t quite tie it up completely, keeping it open for debate and room for interpretation. For me, though, the ending was quite clear, and the answers were deduced pretty easily.

Trying to shoehorn the musical genre in the telling of this rather decent love story, seemed out of place at times, and pretty deviating at others. The occasional and unwarranted breaking into opulent and colorful music and songs, were a little distracting, but it somehow managed to maintain the flow and the tone of the movie to an extent. The songs, obviously, brought out the inner demons, desires, affections and pain, which conventional dialogues couldn’t have. With brilliant choreography by our very own Farah Khan (something to boast about), decorating some nice, relevant, foot-tapping numbers, consummated by a gamut of opulent costumes, set pieces and execution, these royal-like ride was easy on the eyes, ears and extremely satiating. Since a better part of the movie is a musical, the score remained true to the intentions with which it was utilized, and complemented the whole offering by providing a uniquely delivered aspect to the movie.

However, I still feel that all the grandiose brought about by these musical numbers, somewhat hampered the overall beauty of the story; for me, at least. If I were to watch the whole movie without all the dance and songs, I might just enjoy it even more and rate it a tad higher. But, that’s not to say that all those songs were worthless. They were truly amazing and did a tremendous job at speaking the unspeakable. It’s the concoction of the two elements that didn’t quite go down well with me. The cinematography was on the brink of painting an exotic painting, riddled with moony images. Keep your eyes peeled for all the frames that were shot in the freezing-cold of Beijing, with intermittent snowing and a still view. Watching just two characters move around in this dead-silent setting with only the washed-out color of the snow, felt like a dream was materializing right before my eyes. The movie had many beautiful moments, which I always pine for in any romantic movie. The scenes may seem pretty ordinary when I mention them, but seeing them unfold on the screen, you’re bound to be mesmerized by it. For instance, Xun’s character has the habit of grinding her teeth in her sleep. At one point, after having shared an intimate moment, Lin’s character places his index finger right between her teeth to stop her making that sound, and she’s seen biting gently on the finger. It’s intensely romantic and downright adorable.

On the performance front, all the leads did justice to their part, and the polarizing effects that love and the lack of it that can have on a person. Takeshi was as handsome as he was a competent actor in his portrayal of the mourning lover. His character takes quite an abrupt turn at one key moment in the movie. But when his anger ebbs away, he realizes what a blunder he has made, and takes another sharp turn to right his wrongs. The following scene, with pin drop silence out in the frigid cold, with only a whisper of howling wind, and two people embracing like there’s no tomorrow, was one of the most beautiful highlights of the movie for me. Jacky Cheung’s portrayal of Nie Wen, with his quiet endurance at being a bystander, watching his love being snatched from him, was quite a tour de force. He played with his cards very close to his chest, and unraveling himself at decisive moments.

And as many have guessed by now, the bigger and the best part of the cake was taken by Xun Zhou. Firstly, I got to admit that her baritone-esque voice to me is sultrier than any siren. Moving over her sexy voice, the talent that she packs in is brilliantly underrated by her mean and lean looks. But beneath that non-descript exterior, exists one of the best actresses of our generation. She’s capable of pulling off every tricky emotion I’ve seen so far, and she does all that with her trademark calm and the entrancing beauty. Her character in the movie had to allude to several shades which, at times, could be termed pretty contemptible. Now, to evoke such extreme sentiments for such a beautiful lady does require transcendental talent in acting. Yet again, it’s she because of whom I’m awarding this movie more stars than it actually deserves. The movie might have worked for me if the two styles were made into two distinct movies, instead of producing the mélange which I quite couldn’t digest. However, Xun Zhou’s the only binding force that keeps the movie from falling apart and making a mess of it.

Yuan Yang Hu Die - A Review.

AKA: A West Lake Moment.
Director: Zi Yang, Ho Yim.
Language: Mandarin.
Release Year: 2004
Rating: * *1/2

It seems like all I could feast on these days are Asian romantic dramas, and they are turning out to be genuinely worth my while. This particular movie may not rate high among my charts, but there were instances where it really did reach out to me and made me care.

The film opens at the supernal bank of the West Lake, in southern China. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) and another guy Tong (Yim Ling) are run over by a drunk driver, and that marks the beginning of a very close-knit relationship. Xiao Yu (Zhou Xun) is an oddball personality, with her own sets of bizarre qualities. She stutters when nervous, and confides in a six-odd-year-old child who happens to be the product of her schizophrenia. Tong is a very down-to-earth guy, with Earth’s climate being his primary concern for the time being, and is doing his part in spreading awareness. Xiao runs a small café along with a couple of her friends, and also owns a tea house. Xiao considers Tong as her best friend, her confidante, if you will. Tong, however, is in love with Xiao, and makes no bones about it. Xiao, on the other hand, is not too keen in getting involved with him, for she thinks he’s still quite young for her. Moreover, she has been in a relationship with an American for quite some time, and the wave of bliss seems to have blown over for her, but she continues to plod along for the sense of security he’s able to provide.

Xiao is constantly at battle with her little “friend”, who’s driving her insane with demands of dumping the American, and settling for someone whom she can genuinely love and expect for the same in return. Xiao soon meets a smart-looking playboy called Qin (Kun Chen), who dreams to become a director. She’s immediately bowled over by him, and those darn feelings of love start surfacing. What’s interesting is that when it comes to quirkiness, even Qin’s on the same page as Xiao. He, too, stutters when nervous, and also has a repressed alter ego which he unwittingly turns to when in need. Despite his Casanova antics, Xiao enjoys Qin’s company more than any thing she’s had lately, and feels at extreme ease to open up to him. Same goes for Qin, who believes that it’s very comforting to share your dark secrets with a stranger, than it is with someone you know. That’s the only intention with which Qin enjoys being with her, but the same can’t be said about Xiao. The constant exposure to this charming, amorous fellow, only adds to her quandary. She finds herself walking the tightrope with a probable love at one end and the sense of security at the other. Tong, on the other hand, lives on the sidelines, always, hoping that Xiao will, one day, realize and give him a chance. Until then, he respects her decision of being close friends, and sticks with her through thick and thin.

Xiao is betrothed to one of his girlfriends, but like any other freewheeling, pleasure seeker, he, too, is afraid of commitment, which results in a fallout between the two. This opens a gate of possibility for Xiao and Qin, who don’t waste a moment in trying their luck at love with each other. As is the case with every relationship, the beginning is spirited, with copious amount of love and affection. Despite Qin’s constant insensitive nitpicking, Xiao stands by him and the relationship, putting up with the brutal criticism and Qin’s mercurial nature. Qin doesn’t share the same sentiments, and eventually, the prospect of being stuck with the same girl takes a toll over him. As a result, Qin’s emotions for Xiao start to dwindle, and one day, unannounced, he just leaves her to languish and nurse a broken heart.

After fate plays a mean hand to Qin, he starts to take things in the right perspective, and the revelation dawns on him that he may have made the biggest mistake of his life. Xiao, on the other hand, withdraws to solitude, locking herself away from the world. A tragedy after the breakup, serves as a catalyst in driving her further into isolation and depression. However, a fortuitous encounter, reignites love for both the leads, setting in motion some predictable turn of events, albeit sweet ones to an extent. The climax is anybody’s guess, and it’s obvious that this is not one of the movies that would leave a sour taste in your mouth, once you’ve finished watching it.

Now, there’s nothing great about the script. In fact, it’s some sporadic moments of pure innocence and puppy love that does tug at your heart. That’s exactly one of the few things that works in the movie's favor. These rather beautiful moments are few and far between, and the movie, overall, doesn’t quite conjure up more of those. In the end, the parts play out better than the whole offering. The director seemed at loss during the start of the movie. First couple of minutes were really haphazardly drawn, cramming quite a lot at the same time, forcing us to branch our train of thought toward different characters, plots and subplots. Barring these fallacies, the director regresses back into his comfort zone, and is able to proceed with the movie at a pace which it demands, constantly shifting his approach depending on the character and the situation. Same goes for the background score. It was aptly composed, complementing the character arcs and the situations. For instance, when Qin was the focus, the score would be a little bouncy, mischievous and naughty. But when Xiao was the center of the attention, the score tuned to soft melody, unveiling her inhibition at expressing her love for Qin, and it also hinted at her all-round demeanor.

Among the aspects that compelled me to sit through the entire movie was the photography, especially that of the titular lake. The mist of the early morning, the dead silence of unruffled water, and nothingness meeting at the horizon of the lake, was captured faithfully and beautifully. The movie takes a very surreal turn at these points, and the vista, among other things, is worth your time spent.

Overlooking the pedestrian story, and giving the “above ordinary” execution its due, the performances by the lead actors was the primary saving grace for this average fare. Kun Chen as the unpretentious womanizer displayed decent enough chops to act. He was not that bad, to put it simply. Yim Ling as Xiao’s overlooked lover, was probably way better than the lead himself. He was able to bring sensibility and maturity to his role. He was superbly stilled when playing out certain slippery scenes of complex emotions. Moreover, if I’m not mistaken, he has also composed the score for this movie. So, it’s a very comprehensive performance indeed.

It’s Xun Zhou who's the real winner, and the one who beguiled me for the entire movie. Just her presence was enough to fill the screen with limitless appeal, and the fact that she’s so damn adorable added to the whole affair. It’s not just the looks, but talents, too. She didn’t falter in even a single scene and, undoubtedly, she steals the show from every actor in the movie. You just can’t stop yourself from loving this character and feeling her pain when she’s given the short end of the stick in love. Her effortless transition from a reposed and self-secured person, to a confused woman uncertain about the choices in love she should make, followed by the lively and childlike energy exuded when her love is requited, is what kept the movie from losing its hold over me. And then, gradually, her spiral into reclusion, pining for the love lost, only to bounce back later on as a much stronger person, completes the journey of her character with aplomb. Honestly, she’s the only reason why I enjoyed this movie. She balanced her act in myriad ways, befitting the need of the hour and the script. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t even bother writing this review.

Scandal: Joseon Namnyeo Sangyeoljisa - A Review.

Director: Je-yong Lee.
AKA: Untold Scandal/ The Scandal.
Language: Korean
Release Year: 2003
Rating: * *1/2

Adapted from the novel “Les Liaisons Dangereuses”, Untold Scandal is a titillating account of a wager between two prominent figures in their land, circa Chosun Dynasty, when Catholicism was rearing its head, and the obsolete policies and norms that tormented the then society, were giving way to a less conservative lifestyle and a little more freedom.

Sir Cho Won (Yong-jun Bae), a handsome widower and yet, a notorious philanderer, doesn’t miss any opportunity to bed the woman he sets his eyes on. In public’s eyes, he claims that his heart has place only for his deceased wife, but in the enclosed walls and under the sheets of his abode or any, his libido and promiscuity overrun and invade his “love” for his late wife. Age and status don’t come in his way of gratification. He’s also in a habit of painting his exploits of copulation in meticulous and graphic details for posterity.

Lady Cho (Mi-suk Lee), wife to Cho Won’s brother, plays the other principal character, and the one pulling the important strings. She enters into a deal with Cho Won by asking him to deflower a 16-year-old girl, who’s set to become her husband’s concubine. She wants to present her husband with a wedding gift in the form of a pregnant concubine, thus allaying her thirst for revenge. If Cho Won’s successful in this feat, Lady promises him a reward he’s been craving for a very long time: Her body. However, Cho Won thinks that to woo and then make hay with a nubile, ingenuous girl is beneath him, and hardly a matter to waste his talents on. He is more interested in a widow living next door, whose husband died before even they got married. Since then, the widow hasn’t been in any relationship, physical or emotional, and is renowned for her chastity. Breaking that wall of chastity is Cho Won’s next mission. But Lady doubts his competency, for the widow falls in the category of a very resistant strain of female kind, with no bone naïve enough to fall for a seducer. So this becomes the new deal that both the characters settle on. If Cho Won accomplishes his task along with the proof of the same, in the form of that virginal widow’s blood, Lady Cho will gladly submit herself to him. However, on failing to prove his prowess, Cho Won will have to adopt abstinence, by living the rest of his life as a monk. The deal is signed and sealed, with only the results to be delivered.

Cho Won uses all the tricks to paint a rosy and a sympathetic picture of himself in front of the widow, Lady Chung (Do-yeon Jeon). He presents her gifts, makes “anonymous” donations at the church she surreptitiously attends at the dead of the night, saves her from hired goons, and finally, confesses his love for her. However, all his corny efforts are met with stern opposition, and dissent from Chung. A fervent follower of all the rules and regulations the society has burdened a woman with, Chung retains her steadfast role of a faithful wife to a dead husband, and a dutiful daughter-in-law to her in-laws. But this hostility spices up the adventure even more for Cho Won, and increases exponentially, the determination to invade Chung’s privacy, whose fruits he believe, will be unlike any other.

Lady Cho, on the other hand, is busy scheming to get the soon-to-be concubine pregnant, before her husband returns from his business trip. An opportunity comes knocking her way, when a teenager is swept off his feet by this new concubine So-ok (So-yeon Lee), and the effect this boy has had on So-ok isn’t any different. Fearing slander, none of them are able to do anything about their puppy love, and that’s where Lady Cho comes in with her ingenious plan for retribution. She promises to secretly help both of them, paving the way for their eventual carnal deed. However, her plans are stymied when Cho Won decides to avenge his sullying at the hands of So-ok’s mother who, in fact, was also not excused from Cho Won’s womanizing ways. For the sake of his revenge, he shifts his focus from “tigress hunting” to “fox hunting” and inadvertently, helps Lady Cho prepare the gift she’d requested him of in the beginning. When brought to Lady Cho’s notice, she’s content that the ends were met, means notwithstanding.

The game grows profusely, with feelings being forced to sway, ambitions and libido realized under the guise of love, innocence stripped to its ugly bareness, and favors returned in full through sexual perversion. The movie culminates when one indulges into the guilty pleasure of love, releasing someone’s fury, resulting into inevitable fatalities and heartbreaks.

This period drama had supreme production values, and managed to take its viewers on a tantalizingly adulterous ride, set within the suffocating boundaries of Chosun Dynasty. Yong-jun Bae as the smooth-talking lothario plays all the notes perfectly. The lecherous traits required to portray his character shone brightly on his face, every time he slept with his next “trophy”. His good looks only managed to complement he natural gift of soliciting women he already possessed. Later in the movie, his turn as a bereft prisoner added some gray shades to his overall repertoire, which he delivered on credibly. Mi-suk Lee as the equally lascivious and shrewd Lady Cho was probably the showpiece of this movie. Her deftly woven display of a woman betrayed by her husband, and the lengths she’d go to, to exact revenge, reminds me of the expression, “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”. Mi-suk’s wicked take on this character deserves to be seen and praised. Do-yeon Jeon as the emotionally-repressed Lady Chung was admirable in her role. Shouldering the unfair and irrational expectations of the society to cater to the preconceived morals and decorum, and finally, yielding to the emotions of love, Do-yeon injected believable and considerable life in her character.

Now, I haven’t read the novel, nor have I seen any of its cinematic interpretations. So making references or comparisons is out of the picture. But, for my taste, the story was nothing more than a series of sensual adventures stringed together, with decent amount of steamy material, and vividly colorful photography thrown in for good measure. The essence, for me, was missing, with plenty of impetus being put on the accomplishments under the sheets, and the backstabbing and sabotaging to win the bet, playing the second fiddle. It’s only during the final reel of the movie, that some emotions are seen flowing, and some genuine friction coming out of the same between the characters, that got me hooked for a while. But it was one last trick too late, and I had just given up caring about any of them, or where the movie was headed, because I had a very good idea how it would turn out.

Doodlebug - Genius, Sprouting.

Director: Christopher Nolan.
Release Year: 1997.
Rating: * * * *


Not many people must be aware of this three-minute short from the mastermind Christopher Nolan. It’s his earliest work, and the storytelling brilliance that has now blossomed into a rather blockbuster churning talent, is blatantly evident in this short film.

The movie is isolated in one room, where a man in his 20’s is on a lookout for something that’s been vexing him. Armed with a shoe, he scampers around to swat the little thing that seems to be driving him insane. The story comes across as a very simple one, but wait until it’s revealed as to what the guy is exactly after, and after he’s addressed that irritant, there’s another piece de resistance on its way to leave you impressed.

A straightforward execution for an extraordinary piece of plot, complemented with Nolan’s brilliantly, neo-noir handiwork that we’ve now become so accustomed to. A Nolan fan shouldn’t miss his foray into the film industry, which he now takes by storm every couple of years.

Kakera - A Review.

Director: Momoko Ando
AKA: A Piece Of Our Life.
Language: Japanese.
Release Year: 2009.
Rating: * * * *


Kakera is a rather unusual yet, a lovely gay movie. It has its heart in the right place, and it’s the unconventional characters' shades and their inclinations that make it unique in the overflowing stream of other such ventures in the genre.

Haru (Hikari Mitsushima), a college student, is a rather eccentric personality, but a very gullible one at that. She is involved in a loveless and a moribund relationship with a guy. The two-timing loser reaches out to Haru only when in need of sexual gratification. Haru, aware of her boyfriend’s fallings and the disgusting viewpoint he has about their relationship, clings on to the only excuse for intimacy she has in her life, hoping he’d dump the other lady and perhaps, something fruitful will blossom for her eventually. One day, at a café, she runs into Riko (Eriko Nakamura), who exhibits diagonally opposite attributes, bubbling with energy, and determined to seize those fleeting moments that other people let pass; a la Carpe diem. Riko comes across very strongly, not wasting even a breath in introducing herself and handing out her number to Haru, and asking her to call her whenever she feels the need to. It’s no secret and neither does she try to feign her interest in the female kind. She believes that men are very lucky to be able to experience the tender skin and the aroma that a woman’s body possesses. She opines that just because she’s a woman, doesn’t mean she has to miss out on that naturally sensual gift.

Working as a prosthetist, Riko believes in filling the physical void people are left with. Making her own rules, and bending the stifling societal norms, she doesn’t try to smother her physical and emotional urges, at the expense of being derided. Haru and Riko start off solemnly, with Haru being more of a dumbfounded spectator, completely in awe of Riko’s propensities and character. Riko, doesn’t take much time in making inroads, and introduce Haru to the undermined and lambasted aspect of female sexuality. The truth is that Haru’s always harbored a curious side to the female flesh. A medical condition in the past, which required getting shots on her derriere, had made her lower body completely numb for a while. Haru would touch her backside to feel the presence of any sensation, and that’s when she realized how soft a female body could be and how incredibly fortunate men were to treat themselves to such an amazing creation.

Indecisive at first, Haru embraces the idea of being able to love and touch something as gentle and satiating as a female body. The fact that her boyfriend keeps coming back to her just to get his rocks off, and continues to cheat on her, only adds to Haru’s determination to cross over to the other side. Both Riko and Haru dive in with both feet and begin their unconventional romance. Riko plays the dominating role in the relationship, always by Haru’s side, keeping her away from any hurt. She starts to become very possessive, showing up uninvited at Haru’s soiree with her college friends. Nothing deters Riko from proclaiming her love for Haru out in the open. She even confronts Haru’s sleazy boyfriend, breaking the news about their awry sexual tendencies, and bids him farewell with a blow to his balls. However, Haru’s uncertainty and unwillingness in recognizing the gay side of her, and the suffocating presence of Riko, starts to put Haru off, and she starts finding excuses to stay busy and away from Riko. Riko is quick to catch the whiff of Haru’s reluctance, and distances herself from her, letting her have some breathing space. She hopes that Haru would, in the end, come back to her after she starts to appreciate that it’s with her that she can find true love and intimacy, without being objectified. The finale could turn out to be a letdown for straight-minded, orthodox viewers, but for those who are willing to think outside the box, it’ll play out like a gem being studded on the whole affair of homophile love.

Both the female leads were absolutely phenomenal in their performances. Hikari Mitsushima as the soft-spoken, credulous, tomboy Haru, decked in t-shirts and baggy pants, couldn’t be cuter than an amoral baby. With the expression of a lost soul, on the lookout for a genuine fellowship and some love in return, she exudes charm and you can’t help but let it rub on to you. Her latter turn as a resisting and a confused woman, teetering on the edges of two boats at the same time, demonstrates her ability to pull off such twisted portrayals. However, Eriko Nakamura's in a league of her own. As the rebel Riko, constantly brimming with excitement, and living every moment of her life the way she desires, is an extraordinary treat waiting to be savored. Her lopsided yet, rational viewpoint on sexuality, love and “emotions” that drive men into loving another woman, is not something most would be comfortable with, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Seeing the hapless turn her character takes when met with opposition and heartache from Haru, a human’s heart would just go out to her, and empathise with her.

Being a debutant herself, the director remains true to the tone of the movie throughout. She stays clear of preaching and never veers into the hackneyed domain of portraying the plight of exploited women with the nauseating dose of platitudes. She presents it using her own sensibility, compounding it with that of the characters’ and comes up with a refreshing and a radical presentation. Being a low-budget, and an ad-hominem presentation, other technical aspects were utilized in the needed degree, without overdoing it. The music was subtle and stilly composed, the cinematography brought out the beauty amid the juxtaposition of urban cacophony and the loneliness in that noise.

A couple of scenes tantalized, with a temperate touch, tugging at your heart for its sheer audacity and starkness. One such scene is when Haru’s prodding Riko’s bum. It might sound lewd and downright pornographic to a conservative mind, but with someone without an encumbered mind, the scene will put a smile on your face for its childlike innocence and the overflowing intimacy without having two bodies sweat it out against each other. If this scene doesn’t make your heart go “awwww”, then just don’t watch the movie; it’s not your cup of tea. But for those who are willing to explore Haru and Riko’s nonconforming love and their daring journey, this Japanese serving wouldn’t disappoint you on any front, period.

Lian Zhi Feng Jing - A Bucolic Eulogy for Love.

Director: Miu-suet Lai.
AKA: The Floating Landscape.
Language: Cantonese.
Release Year: 2003
Rating: * * * *


“Lian Zhi Feng Jing” is a strikingly beautiful film, with a straightforward subject of love, treated in an equally placid and refreshing manner. A hushed tone permeating the whole movie, the experience felt like a walk through a cloudy promenade, drowned in a serenading vista.

Maan (Kar Yan Lam) recently lost her love to a terminal disease. Originally from Hong Kong, she flies to China to visit a somewhat cloistered town of Qingdao, where her boyfriend had spent his childhood years. But the prime reason for her journey is to visit the landscape her boyfriend had sketched, which he said lingered on his mind in his last days. The boyfriend, Sam (Ekin Cheng), wasn’t quite certain if it was one of the places he frequented back in his childhood days, or just an ornate exaggeration of his imagination, to compose him in the final, dark hours of his life. Maan hasn’t quite climbed out of the shock and the immediate depression brought on by the loss, and seems unable or, at least, unwilling to get over that pain. She seems to revel in the melancholy she’s surrounded herself with. Steadfast in her intent and regardless of the verity of that landscape, Maan moves forward with her resolution and moves in with Sam’s cousin Wu (Jue Huang) for the duration of her stay in Qingdao.

She begins her search every morning, weaving through the unknown narrow alleys, up and down the slopes flanked by tenements and modest edifices, with only her boyfriend’s sketch as her guiding compass. A chance encounter with Lit (Ye Liu), the local postman, on her first day, marks as the initiating point for a close-knit relationship they’d follow it with. Lit is undoubtedly mesmerized by the lady, and her brooding and wistful demeanor. Despite not being on the same page with Maan, and her obstinance at finding that particular place, the reserved and amicable Lit gradually starts to take keen interest in scouring the land, just to calm the distressed soul of Maan.

Along their search for the landscape, both of them are drawn closer to each other. Maan, however, inhibits herself from letting these sprouting feelings materialise into something noteworthy. She’s afraid that by succumbing to her new-sprung feelings for Lit, she may be betraying and dishonoring her past love. Lit, on the other hand, is a little tired of Maan’s irrational hold on to her past, but can’t stop himself from liking her. In spite of the feelings that reciprocate, and yet, forced to contradict one another, both of them seem to find each other in a deadlock, with not enough room for a fresh start. This invisible friction tethers them to a glum reality with no repose from either’s loveless life. Such events and some foreseeable developments pave the way for a predictable, albeit, an apt climax.

Watching this silent and lovely drama uncurl itself into a beautiful slice-of-life affair, all of my senses were infused with a rare pleasure. The idyllic milieu in a perpetual overcast, and the verisimilitude of being by yourself despite being surrounded by the whole town, left me speechless and wanting for more. The minimalist use of music, coupled with celestial photography and tinges of love blossoming sporadically, lent a magical tone to this movie. The cinematography made sure that even the most crowded lanes and other establishments, didn’t clutter the space given to the two protagonists. And with ample of shots of breathtaking landscapes, and even the urban jungle so neatly and cohesively composed, it all seemed to come together to paint the final sensuous picture.

Of the two leads, Ye Liu as the pithy Lit was a treat to watch, mainly because of the wonderfully sketched part he’d got, and he didn’t let it down. Almost aware and in control of his devices, even when confronted with as debilitating situation of recognizing the love he pined for, he managed to not submit to the spur of the moment, and fall in the trappings of a corny loverboy. I reiterate, the credit goes to the script and the execution, but a fair share of that praise should be directed toward Ye Liu, for rendering these traits so faithfully. Kar Yan Lam as the despondent Maan, hopelessly clinging on to the loss, and refusing to move on and get over the traumatic past, was able to evoke admiration for her staunch intent at finding the place her lover left as a memento, and at the same time, we also find ourselves letting out a couple of smirks at her ludicrous attempts of living her life in the past, and neglecting, probably, a bright and a warm future. The scenes between these two echoed with whispers of an endearing chemistry and unuttered feelings.

The director played along well without disrupting the still flow of the movie. He handled emotionally-charged moments with delicate touch, never utilizing such sensitive moments to manipulate the viewing experience, or by using one of many corny gambits to reduce the movie into yet another silly, whimsical tearjerker. An exemplary scene would be where both the protagonists are in solitary, and it’s clearly one of the knee-weakening moments of the movie. Any other director would’ve taken the bait and used that scene to have its two characters break down into each other’s arms, and do the needful; but not this director. I was admiring the way he handled such situations, and how he just let the story take its own turn and throw up its own twists, without forcing its hand. Another scene that left its mark on me was when Wu asks Maan why she’s been copying Sam’s diary one page a day, when she could get it over with in a couple of days just as easily. Maan replies that it won’t be right, because Sam wrote one page a day when he was alive. It might sound like a bland answer to many, but to a shrewd observer, the pain and longing is palpable in that scene and in those ordinary words. It’s scenes like these and the extremely satisfying feeling of having watched something so simple yet, so incredibly moving, is why I love movies, and why I ended up liking this one, too.

The Ghost Writer - A Review.

Director: Roman Polanski
Release Year: 2010
Rating: * * *1/2

I’ve always been an ardent admirer of Polanski’s work. In fact, his “The Pianist” happens to be my favorite movie of all time. Anticipating his next venture, I waited with bated breath, and after an excruciating delay, his latest installment finally saw the light of the day. Needless to say, it’s a fine example of filmmaking from Polanski.

The eponymous character, the ghost (Ewan McGregor), is hired to fill in the shoes of his predecessor Mike McAra, whose car is found abandoned at a ferry, and who, under suspicious circumstances, washed ashore dead on the island he was sequestered for his latest project: Writing former British Prime Minister Adam Lang’s (Pierce Brosnan) memoir. The ghost writer is irresolute about the job initially, what with all the surrounding scandalous developments and a distant foreboding. However, a fat paycheck for the job weakens his scruples and he flies to America, on the same island, where the previous writer met his fateful demise.

The ghost’s involvement, occasionally, makes him draw flaks and raised eyebrows from the people whom Lang has caused distress to, by playing into the hands of the US in matters such as rendition and other present day turmoil. Lang is accused of aiding and abetting the CIA, by handing over suspected Pakistani officials for having links with extremists from the Middle East. As a result, Lang, charged with war crimes, is soon to be investigated by The International Court of Crimes. The ghost starts skimming the surface of Lang’s personality for the memoir, and driving deeper to find the core that would act as the USP of the book. However, allusions and traces of ghost’s forerunner are found throughout the place, whose death and the ensuing farce for an investigation has lead to more unanswered questions. With his curiosity piqued, the ghost delves deeper into the riddle and launches his own low-profile investigation on the sides, coming up with a handful of discrepancies that were brushed off by the officials during the investigation. The findings cement ghost’s belief that McAra’s death wasn’t a straightforward case of drowning, but a well-executed murder.

The ghost starts to unfold the bigger picture, digging deeper through the filth and mire, sometimes, putting himself in harm’s way only to snatch that elusive truth. His efforts hit paydirt when he comes across a secret stash of documents and pictures of Lang’s early years at Cambridge University and as an activist for his party. Piecing the jigsaw puzzle, the ghost deduces a shocking conclusion which, if not substantiated and dealt with quickly enough, could prove fatal.

Now, since its Polanski, the technical aspects can’t be anything but top notch. Let’s start with the setting of this dark thriller. The island used as the playground for this gloomy, unnerving thriller, is equally chilling in its landscapes and evokes a very saturated feel of life-threatening pitfalls, guarded by players cloaked in sheep’s clothing and a dagger in tow. The mist, in which this island is enveloped, is the unmentioned, invisible, impending gloom embodiment. Then there’s the subdued background score, emphasizing the violent currents under the tranquil waters of what’s going on the screen. The photography is too exquisite to adorn it with words. It’ll be utterly stupid of me to critique the person seated at the top, directing this whole affair. Despite the legal ramifications he was embroiled in throughout the movie’s production, there isn’t a frame that doesn’t have the Polanski signature glossed all over it. He even had the galls and sense of humor to broach the topic of his own extradition travesty in one of scenes. An auteur, inventing his own rules at storytelling and characterizations, is at the top of his game, obviously.

On the performance front, it’s Ewan McGregor who gets the bigger share of the cake, and does wonders with it. He’s the nameless force that keeps the momentum going, and keeps you hooked and intrigued with his onscreen predicaments and peril. As a lamb, let lose amid the conniving, merciless predators baring their fangs, Ewan McGregor plays his part with restraint and panache. Pierce Brosnan, as the former English ruler, exudes his usual flair and comes up with a seasoned performance expected of him. Olivia Williams does a remarkable job with her portrayal of a distraught wife to Lang, treading shoulder-to-shoulder with her husband, trying to make sense of it all. All the other cast members played second fiddle to the primary players, with Tom Wilkinson as Prof. Paul Emmett, a “more than meets the eye” character, being noteworthy mention.

Polanski tried to revive the “McGuffin” effect that Alfred Hitchcock is inhumanly famous for, and he succeeded to a great extent. There were some parts that seemed to wander and could’ve easily done away with, but Polanski is triumphant in producing a neo-noir thriller, where pieces are more interesting than the puzzle they form when assembled together. Throughout the movie viewing, the thought that I was watching Polanski’s another masterpiece, "Chinatown", always played at the back of my mind. Both the movies share some common plots and subplots, with its unwitting protagonist thrown into the thick of precarious and debauched action, ultimately to be sucked into the vortex of powerplay and larger than life ambitions, ready to be materialized on the graves of many. Even though the revelation isn’t as detestable and horrifying as Chinatown’s, The Ghost Writer has plenty of thrills to quench a cinema admirer’s thirst, and the fact that it’s Roman Polanski’s venture should give one enough reason to catch this movie.

Jeux d'enfants - A Review.

Director: Yann Samuell
AKA: Love Me If You Dare.
Language: French.
Release Year: 2003.
Rating: * (Yeah, that bad)

France is considered to be the uncrowned city of love, and it’s no surprise for French romantic movies to add to the sheen of that unofficial title. Now, as the rule suggests, there’s always an exception to any rule, at least for this case in point, there is.

Sophie and Julien (Marion Cotillard and Guillaume Canet) have shared an unbreakable yet, an unconventional bond of friendship all their lives. They started off on a sour note, but built on it tremendously. So much so that everything they did, would eventually play a part in the silly game of “dare” they stringed almost every event in their lives with, with a candy tin being the coveted trophy. The dare would be as outrageous as coming up with as many cuss words starting with the letter “B” in front of a teacher during their primary schooling, or peeing oneself right in front of the principal while he’s rebuking them for their less than civilized antics. The dare would even take outlandish and lewd turn as asking a fully grown-up Sophie to wear her lingerie on top of her clothes, while she’s taking her Math exam, and sometimes, even as heartbreaking as not seeing each other for a prolonged period of time.

Couple of such dares cause an irrevocable damage to either’s personal lives, but both of them always manage to pick up the pieces without holding any grudges, and continue with their amateurish routine. Julien faces alienation from his dad as an outcome to one of Sophie’s dare, and later, Sophie finds herself at the receiving end of this puerile and blunt stick. The unconcern shown during every turn of their lives, all thanks to this game, starts to raise a question mark about their true feelings for one another. None of them could put a finger of certainty when faced with the prospect of love, to ascertain if the other person’s requital is genuine or just another dare. Such silly gags form the basis for plenty of emotional manipulation directed towards a novice viewer, but for veteran movie buffs, such tricks would only be met with scorn and guffaw.

After sitting through the 3/4th of the movie, the plot started to materialize in an admirable fashion, but only to be cut short by its threadbare inclination to wager everything at the cost of one’s feelings. Both the characters were ready to jeopardize everything, indifferent to the hearts they were breaking so ruthlessly, left, right and center. And down the slope the movie rode again, and never could it recover from the repulsive shape it deformed into.

Director tried to pull the “Amelie” yarn over our eyes, only to fall face-first miserably. The execution could nowhere ape the charm and wit of Amelie, despite using similar color tones, eccentric characterizations, peppy score and a poor man’s attempt at avant-garde narrative that was of Amelie. The cast is sweet and talented, but the unsavory screenplay and the incoherent routes taken by the director to prove his point, didn’t do any justice to the competency these actors possessed. Marion Cotillard is adorable as ever, instilling her scenes with her trademark élan, and Guillaume Canet is beaming with spontaneity, and has enough credibility to match up to his female counterpart. But even world-class thespians could carry and lift a pointless movie as this only so much. Thanks to the director’s hubris and pretentious take on what could’ve been a sweet affair, the movie is reduced to a mere train wreck.

Duk Haan Yum Cha - A Review.

AKA: I'll Call You.
Director: Tze Chung Lam.
Language: Cantonese.
Release Year: 2006.
Rating: * * * *


Romantic flicks are a dime-a-dozen commodity, and almost every film industry indulges in churning out movies of this genre more than any other. It’s the order of the majority demographics in any country, and no industry can afford to jeopardize the anticipated earnings from such a large contingent. However, this genre is also the most that gets plagiarized, ridiculed, picked apart, but most of the times, loved. This Hong Kong film is one of those unheard, smart, rom-com flick, that hasn’t got much recognition beyond the borders of its country, barring few avid cinemagoers who always manage to unearth such fine and satiating movie-watching experience (cough, narcissist).

Manny (Lik-Sun Fong), closing in on his thirties, hasn’t been served fairly in the love department. The last relationship he was in, turned out to be a heartbreaking experience when his girlfriend move to USA and got involved with someone else there. It’s been more than three years, and his love life hasn’t seen the flourish and greenery that he so longs for. Giving him company are his two fast buddies, none sharing any different fate for the time being. They all meet up daily at a bar, berating about the dearth of girls for them to keep company, and the inability on their part to withstand the brutal, disparaging nitpicking routine, which almost every girl goes about in her head. During one such random jaunt at a bar, Manny crosses paths with Karen (Viann Liang), a stunning lady, with a mercurial and an arrogant temperament. Her haughtiness is the product of her gorgeous looks, the attractive face of a hostess selling cheap knockoffs on TV shopping channel, and the fact that she’s aware of the debilitating effect she has on guys overall. However, she does seem to possess an iota of genuine desire to be really loved, but all of those emotions seemed to be smothered by her devil-may-care attitude, and the indifference she shows toward the guys who go out with her.

The aforesaid encounter between the two leads is furthered by a number of ensuing dates, where Manny’s exuberant and expectant self suffers at the apathetic and dismissive hands of Karen. She starts taking him for granted and orders him around, demanding him to keep her company at the dead of night, turning up late at their planned outings, and sometimes, even standing him up completely. A guy with a pinch of dignity and self-esteem would’ve dumped such a pain-in-the-neck character long back, but Manny is the desperate kind. He’s ready to be pushed around, become a doormat for Karen which she’d stomp on pretty regularly and wholeheartedly, and Manny is more than glad at his servility. Manny’s friends try to show him the pathetic soul he has become lately, always ignoring his friends and their traditional nights out, just to humor the overly domineering and self-conceited Karen. No doubt, Manny pays no heed to their insights, and continues with his job at bending backwards for his “love”. It’s not long before that Manny’s mythical viewpoint of his current relationship crumbles under the unforgiving and unloving reciprocation from Karen. On one such night out with Manny, Karen blatantly jeers him for his infantile standpoint about their relationship. She crushes Manny’s feeling, out in the middle of a street, stamps on them and then walks away.

Unable to face the heartache, Manny regresses into a dark corner, unwilling to climb out of the park pit. After languishing a healthy part of his teenage life, sulking and moaning for failing at love, Manny finally agrees to see the light of the day. And after some words of wisdom from his alter ego (more on that later), he digs his way out of the dour fortification, and take charge of his life again, by putting its priorities in order and getting on with it. After piecing himself together, Manny realizes that there’s more to life than just love, and that there are other ways of being content. He no more neglects his friends and their emotions, becomes an archetype of dutiful son and more than an invisible worker at his office. Life, for Manny, is as beautiful as it could get. He does get opportunities at love, but nothing noteworthy, and it’s no longer tough on him to get over such failed relationships.

However, Manny still harbors a shred of feeling for Karen, but he isn’t hopeless enough to crawl back into that coldhearted lady’s arms. At his friend’s prompting, Manny does decide to call Karen, and ask for a night out. The date is set, but Manny doesn’t follow the same old routine of dressing up to his best, and meets Karen the way he prefers. Karen, after suffering quite a long string of setbacks, both on personal and professional front, has grown a bone of humility and a fair amount of morals. On this date, she’s the first one to arrive, she’s the one to foot the bill and is sporty enough to face flak for her previous behavior, without wanting to chew the critic’s head off. Playing hard-to-get has taken a toll on Karen and she’s no longer the fastidious girl, picking guys apart and brushing every guys’ feelings off. In fact, the table seems to have turned, and Karen has been on the receiving end more than on couple of occasions.

Here, the movie gets more mature and we see how things just fall in their places when you’re yourself, and when there’s no emotions at stake, or no hearts at jeopardy. Both, Manny and Karen, are at ridiculous ease when they’re with each other, sharing unflinching camaraderie, with a very bleak possibility of hurting each other. They’d never been this happy when they were going out. The movie veers into the direction of its climax, when one of the leads’ past love returns. The development may sound awfully stereotypical, but climax is a very well-written and a very strongly executed portion of the movie.

The execution by the director was pretty silly and amateurish in the first half of the movie. And it’s obvious that he used all such tricks intentionally. He wanted to convey the animation, the enthusiasm and the colours that fill a guy’s life when he finds someone. How silly a guy can become, blinded by something superficial, and how his towering expectations, when not met, could collapse on him, caving him for a long period of time. With bright photography and spirited score, the first one-third of the movie underlines the freshness and abundance that love brings along, and how that same milieu takes a turn for gloom and despair, when the same love leaves you stranded, bereft and forced to keep reality in check. The last one-third of the movie had very cleverly written elements and plots, with admirable character progressions and witty dialogues. The limelight shifted to the reality, and the director gave his two cents on love and its aftermath against the responsibilities in one’s life.

The movie utilized some innovative and experimental tricks to drive some point home. For instance, the first date between Manny and Karen was portrayed like some video game, with two tickers on either side of the screen: The first being for points and the second one being the number of lives left. Every right move made by Manny resulted in his points getting bumped up, and every caring act from Karen’s side would increase Manny’s number of lives. Even the walk down the road after their first date was shot in a very creative manner. Then there’s the scene, when Manny gets dumped and he retires to a place like dungeon in his head, with his buffed up alter ego (played superbly by Andy Lau) would sing depressing love songs, only to drive Manny more insane. Andy Lao also played the part of Manny’s conscience, always providing him with two options, and kept up the routine, until Manny finally chooses the right alternative. This whole part was played out as a hilarious and an ingenious parable. There were a handful of more scenes, permeated with sheer humor and tender moments of amateur love.

Lik-Sun Fong displayed credibility in his portrayal of a dumbfounded lover, unable to come to terms with reality, and the gradual strengthening in his character when he finally wraps his head around the stark realities of life. Viann Liang as the repulsive, mean, way-in-over-her-head Karen, really managed to get a rise out of me, hence proving that she did a fine job at her performance. But to me, true gems were Manny’s friends: Lee and Hong (Ka Tung Lam and Kwok-Kwan Chan). Their banters, absurd attempts at uncovering the philosophical aspects of love and the genuine advices they doled out to Manny, were a treat to the senses. Their tongue-in-cheek repartee and Lee’s deadpan humor while doing so, made the experience all the more enjoyable. With such a clever take on such an antique concept of love, infusing liveliness and imaginative techniques to make one’s point, the movie never falls short on any ground. It’s not a huge movie, with an arresting, labyrinthine plot. It’s a simple love story, served with fresh ingredients and laid out in its own unique way, sure to leave you appreciating its whole package when the meal is over.

A-leum-dab-da - A Review.

AKA: Beautiful.
Director: Jae-hong Jeon.
Language: Korean.
Release year: 2008.
Rating: * *1/2


This is yet another flick to come out of Kim Ki-Duk’s inexplicably beautiful factory. However, this one was only written and co-produced by him, and someone else took the directing mantle, and did a pretty ordinary job.

Eun-young (Su-yeon Cha) is drop-dead gorgeous. Her beauty makes her the center of attraction everywhere she goes. She’s always on other people’s radar whenever she passes by them. Men, like typical, drooling dingbats, approach her with all sorts of favors, masked innuendos and praises. Amateurs think she’s an actress, or at least has what it takes to be one. Glamour-crazed teenagers want her autograph, her best friend’s loser boyfriend wants to get intimate with her, and strangers send her flowers in multitude at her apartment. She has experienced this nonsense one too many times, and knows how to deal with it: Just by ignoring it. There’s never a place she visits where she doesn’t make heads turn. People fantasize about her the moment they lay their eyes on her. But Eun-young cruises through this muck every day, undeterred and unfazed.

One of the obsessive admirers tricks Eun-young into letting him inside her apartment. While trying to force his emotions on her, he flips and in the process of convincing her of his love for her, he rapes her. Ruing his actions, he surrenders himself to the police. However, he tries to condone his action by saying that she, too, is equally responsible for the abuse he has inflicted on her. Her beauty, and her every twitch drove him to his agonizing limits, and made him do the unthinkable. He goes so far as to say that she raped him and not the other way around. That’s expected from a borderline degenerate like him, and you can find such characters only in a Kim Ki-Duk’s world. Even the detective who handles the case doesn’t hold himself back in saying that Eun-young, too, is to be blamed for what happened to her. He attributes the incident to her skimpy outfit, and blatant flaunting of her curves and uncovered body parts. In fact, the cop is also seen empathizing with the rapist after watching one of the tapes that the rapist made of Eun-young while stalking her. He says that with a body like that, he understands why the rapist went overboard, and he doubts if there’s anyone who wouldn’t want to “score” a woman like Eun-young.

Eun-chul (Cheon-hee Lee), junior to the abovementioned detective in charge, can’t help feeling sorry for the lady. He bends backwards to help her every time he gets an opportunity to. The good samaritan role he plays out isn’t totally guileless or selfless. It’s Eun-young’s beauty that has brought out the philanthropist in Eun-chul. He follows her around, keeping in close stride, always on the lookout for a moment where she’d need some help, and he’ll jump in like some savior to be the altruist cop. The fact is, he’s no different than any other pest infatuated with the lady. In the privacy of his home, he uses the same tape made by the rapist, zooms in on Eun-young’s lips and jerks off; just like your average Joe.

Bruised, both physically and more so psychologically, Eun-young starts to look at her beauty as a curse, a rotten layer she wants to rip off her body. She decides to engorge herself, and resort to binging on all sorts of junk food. Her act of immoderate glut draws lots of flak and ridicule from the people around her, and that only adds fuel to fire. However, this attempt at surfeit backfires, and she, more than once, passes out on her regurgitated slime. Even the doctor overlooking her care doesn’t miss the opportunity to fondle with her at the behest of examining her. Failing at becoming an overblown pig, Eun-young decides to adopt the diametrically opposite method of becoming ugly. She decides to starve herself to the bones, surviving only on water, wide range of diet pills and sprinting around the city all day long. It’s not too long before she fails miserably in this endeavor, too. Her frail body caves in to such rigorous and continuous assault on its wellbeing. She draws the final straw by trying to whore herself, but her decrepit and the monstrosity of a visage, the product of tawdry makeup, doesn’t do her any good here either.

All of Eun-young’s ploys succeed in making her look repulsive. However, the lines she crossed while trying to stoop so low in the appearance department, coupled with the raw trauma of sexual abuse, has resulted in an irrevocable scarring of her perception of reality. She starts to hallucinate, and sees the face of her rapist in every passerby. She tries desperately to claw her way back into normalcy, but she’s way past the Rubicon, and the only way out is to dig herself deeper into the abysm she’s been living in ever since the incident. After the initial protest at Eun-chul’s selfish, albeit and eventually, genuine desire to help her, Eun-young finally starts to embrace his stalking company, and requests him to set her free from the images that gnaw at her. The resolution is reached in a typical Kim Ki-Duk fashion, almost.

While watching the movie, and those aware of Kim Ki-Duk’s choice of concepts, one will see his signature shades all over this movie. But what they’ll sorely miss is his master stroke of brilliance at the execution. The director didn’t live up to the expectations that a Kim Ki-Duk’s story generates. The director went over the top in some places with his portrayal of such a bleak and disturbing subject. He did manage to get decent performances from his actors, but the screenplay just didn’t do enough justice to Kim Ki-Duk’s vision. Even the choice of background score, even when it wasn’t needed, added to his dismal excursion as a director. The same movie in the hands of Kim Ki-Duk, would’ve been yet another winner and an unforgettable experience, but alas, that was not to be.

Since it’s penned by Kim Ki-Duk, the story needs to have some upsetting and sometimes, sickening, scenes that refuse to leave your head. One such scene was when Eun-young collapses on a sidewalk, and every Tom, Dick and Harry, of all age and sizes, rushes to her help with rabid intentions. One of them, a doctor, even tries to touch her private parts under the ruse of making sure she’s alright. This pack of driveling “good citizens” even get into a fight to decide as to who will have the privilege to drop the lady to a hospital. Another blood-curdling scene comes at the end of the movie, where a doctor is seen taking advantage of a cadaver. There are more such revolting scenes, but it’s just another day in the park for a Kim Ki-Duk flick.

Apart from the uncompromisingly raw nature of the story, the leading lady was something worth spending your 80-odd minutes over this movie. From being repugnantly bulimic to being pitifully anorexic, Su-yeon aced the complexities of her character. The fact that she’s breathtakingly adorable adds to the wide range of reaction a viewer would conjure up while watching her deconstruct herself through disgustingly humane means. Other actors were just a mere addition, and had nothing more to do except being true to their characters: By being men.

If your guts don’t churn that easily and if the above review didn’t deter you from reading it all the way through, then I suggest you give this movie a chance. It’s no Kim Ki-Duk unconventional gem, but anything that has “Kim Ki-Duk” attached to it is definitely worth a try.

Hwal - Watching Beauty in Grime Unravel Itself.

AKA: The Bow.
Director: Kim Ki-Duk.
Language: Korean.
Release year: 2005.
Rating: * * * *

Every time I watch a Kim Ki-Duk flick, the only certainty that plays on my mind is that, no matter what, his movie would definitely leave me thinking; sometimes, even for days after having watched it. The musing is not a result of the movie being a good, or an average one (I refuse to believe that Kim Ki-Duk has the ability to make a bad movie), but because of the sheer audacity with which the director chooses to portray a relatively simple concept, twisting it completely out of shape at times, and, yet, managing to preserve the surreal core, that complements the narrative in its own peculiar way. “Hwal” only cements my superstitious belief in the magic that Kim Ki-Duk’s movies always possess.

An old man (Seong-hwang Jeon), easily in his 60s, has been taking care of a girl on his fishing boat, ever since he found her about 10 years ago. Out at sea, in the middle of nowhere, the old man has spent his past 10 years, bringing up the girl, with the intent of marrying her once she turns 17, which is due in a couple of months. The old man has never compromised on the distance between him and the girl, and has never taken undue advantage of their unguarded presence. To make a living, the old man ferries anglers from mainland for a fishing excursion aboard his boat. To supplement his income, he even uses his bizarre method to tell fortune for his willing customers. The process is bizarre because the old man shoots three arrows at a picture of Buddha painted on the side of his boat, while the girl, on a swing, sways across his line of sight, narrowly escaping the arrows almost every single time. Depending on the spots the arrows hit, the girl interprets it and whispers the fortune into the old man’s ears, who relays the same message and in the same fashion to his customers.

Of course, the fact that an old man has a nubile girl, living with him onboard, raises eyebrows among all his customers. To protect the socially-vulnerable girl from lecherous hands, the old man lets his bow and arrow do the talking. The first shot that whizzes past the pervert in question, serves as a warning, followed by forcing them off his boat and ferrying them back to the mainland. On other tranquil occasions, the old man uses the same bow, with minor additions, as a stringed instrument meant for one of the few recreational purposes the couple indulges in on the boat. The wedding day is the only catalyst that propels the old man’s desire to get through the day, which is evident in his buying clothes and accessories with his modest income, for her to-be bride and himself.

The girl uses the whole of the boat as her personal space, where she’s comfortable enough to sashay around in her typical teenage, scanty dresses; sometimes, even in the presence of customers. This freewheeling attitude of hers does land her in trouble, but having learnt the tricks of the archery trade from the old man, she’s quite adept at defending herself from the drooling pack of deviants. The girl shows no sign of rebel or disgust at the notion of living, and eventually, getting married to a person old enough to be her grandfather. The reason is probably the feeling of owing her better part of life to that man. However, those indebted emotions soon take a nosedive when a teenage boy shows up among other customers for a fishing trip. The girl doesn’t miss even a beat to fall head-over-heels for him, and the boy, too, seems to be smitten by this puzzling girl. This development doesn’t go down well with the man of the house, and, understandably, he gets rid of the boy soon after. The boy promises to return with the information about the girl’s parents who, he’s certain, must still be looking for their child.

Here, to the old man’s chagrin, the girl soon starts throwing tantrums, and resisting his every move. She even deliberately incenses him by trying to get too close to a random customer. All her ensuing efforts are devoted to breaking the old man’s will, and browbeat him into doing something stupid, or even harming himself. The final reel of the movie showcases the teenage boy’s efforts of talking some sense into the old guy, and helping him realize how lecherously greedy and unfair he’s been, and continues to be to the girl, whose parents haven’t stopped looking for their child to this date. What follows is probably the best part of the movie, with some shocking and visually creative elements, and introduces us to the fringes of human psyche.

Kim Ki-Duk, yet again, conveys, reaffirms and re-emphasizes the true nature of cinema. Being a visual medium, he proves that pictures and expressions indeed speak a thousand words. You don’t need your primary characters to put in words the banalities of their everyday life, the bliss they experience by being close to someone they love, the agony that eats at them when their heart’s broken, or the drive for retribution when they’re wronged. A simple raise of the eyebrow, pouted lips, frowned foreheads, a nod of the head, fiery eyes, a smile, a look of longing and a simple drop of tear is absolutely sufficient to cover the whole gamut of human emotions. Kim Ki-Duk specializes in this department, as a result of which, his primary characters either don’t ever utter a syllable in his movies, or they keep it to their bare minimum, and “Hwal” is no different.

Being stripped of dialogues, the two leads of the movie still leave a lasting impression. Han Yeo-reum’s vulnerable, enigmatic, naïve and ultimately, besotted in love portrayal, elicits empathy. The ambivalence she displays later on really gets to you, even if the incidental scenes may be riling to many uptight moviegoers. Seong-hwang Jeon as the selfish caretaker is really one of the strong points of this movie. His apathy towards the girl’s regressed and muted free will and sentiments, along with his tenacity to take advantage of the same, has “human” written all over it. And the latter verisimilitude of transition in his character’s traits only underscores the adroitness with which the actor plays out his part. As usual, I had some of the scenes bookmarked in my mind, one of which is the fortune-telling method and the way it’s been shot. Another one that defies norms of what general masses perceive is the coition scene. Mark my words; it’s unlike any intimate scene you’ve ever seen, and chances are, that it’ll be the only one of its kind. For some, the reaction may fall anywhere among disgust, derision, eccentric and whatnot. But for me, it was absolutely ethereal.

The movie had a very tranquil background score, reflecting the still ripples of the water the boat was floating in. The melody really got under my skin and made the whole experience even more unreal and bewitching. I’d be stating the obvious if I start praising Kim Ki-Duk’s efforts as a director, writer and editor in this movie. For the uninitiated, try combining Lars Von Trier’s sheer dissenting, lopsided, yet, rational worldview, with the occult, phantasmagorical, and sometimes, breathtaking visual execution of David Lynch. The outcome of the aforementioned mixture will somewhat resemble Kim Ki-Duk’s talents. If my cryptic yet, simple attempt at describing Kim Ki-Duk’s proclivities falls short of painting a remotely vivid picture, then chances are that you’ll never enjoy his movies, let alone comprehending it. However, if you’re one of those, who have the ability to find the twisted beauty in the extremities of human psyche appealing, then you’re bound to be captivated by Kim Ki-Duk’s movies, including this one.

2012 - A Review.

Director: Roland Emmerich.
Release Year: 2009.
Rating: * *1/2

Disaster movies serve as a pedestal for directors with a sucker for a producer, who splurges money like there’s no tomorrow, in anticipation that moviegoers would turn out to be even a bigger suckers to watch the bloated trash the filmmakers are ultimately going to churn out. Nothing wrong with that practice, except that the movie is sucked dry of any substance, and audiences are rendered as nothing more than zombies drooling at the larger-than-life cinematic tricks called CG.

Don’t take my rants out of context, because I’m not here to rebuke the latest offering by the over-the-top director Roland Emmerich, who specializes in turning absurdities and half-baked, unfounded and unsound scientific theories into a staple diet for his every outing as a director. A glance at his repertoire would lead anyone to the conclusion that he’s adept at making movies based on outrageous assumptions and sometimes, he does deliver on them. “2012” for me did deliver; at least on the brainless, popcorn-munching, gaping, occasionally awe-inspiring ride.

Let’s get down to nitty-gritty, called the plot. Err…, my mistake. I forgot there for a moment, that this is a DISASTER MOVIE, and in that universe, to use the term “plot” is blasphemy. Okay, let’s call it an excuse for a plot. Dr. Helmsley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a geologist, along with an Indian astrophysicist Satnam, through their (cough) “empirical” methods have reached the horrifying conclusion that neutrinos, a product of heightened solar activity, have intensified exponentially in recent times. As a result, these particles have started to penetrate the earth’s atmosphere, and the resultant change has started to manifest itself on the planet, which previously was unheard of. The earth’s core is sweating like million pigs crammed into a 10x10ft cell, and the heat is only going to ratchet up. This finding takes place in the year 2009, and soon, Dr. Helmsley, brings this to White House Chief Of Staff, Carl Anheuser’s (Oliver Platt) notice, leading him to sound alarm bells across the world, albeit amidst only the selective individuals presiding at the highest position. In the following years, governments across the world, undertake a mammoth, yet, a clandestine endeavor of funding a billion-euro operation which entails constructing ships of unprecedented dimensions, comfortable enough to accommodate 400,000 people. Anyone, exhibiting the galls to blow the lid on this operation, is executed secretly in "accidental" ways, and stuffed and dismissed in the next day’s paper as one of the random tragedies. However, all of Dr. Helmsley and his colleagues’ predictions about the assumed path the impeding catastrophe will take have been upended, and the devastation is arriving at their doorstep sooner than they had dreamt off. The government can’t call for worldwide evacuation plan without risking mass panic. So they decide to keep it below radar, and let their citizen in on it at the very last minute, so that they could at least bid farewell to their loved ones.

With the above exaggerated scenario being the plot of the movie, all the characters are mere milestones, around which the movie is set to traverse and reach its predictable climax. Jackson Curtis (John Cusack) as a failed author, is now working as a limo driver for a pretentious, condescending Ukranian hotshot. As for Jackson’s personal life, he has a son who dislikes him, and a loveable daughter who adores him to the core, but an opportunity missed with his love, Kate (Amanda Peet), who’s now living a content suburban life with a new and an understanding man Gordon. On a routine camping trip with his kids, Jackson walks into a fortified spot, where the effects of imminent disaster have started to make itself apparent. It’s there that Jackson meets a goofball character called Charlie Frost (Woody Harrelson), a radio jockey, and a soothsayer who, apparently, is already aware of the governments’ efforts in sweeping the news about cataclysm that’s close at hand under the rug, and the radical approach afoot at an undisclosed location in China; the place where the aforementioned ships are being built for the upcoming exodus. Obviously, Jackson brushes aside all the mumbo-jumbo Frost spews about the world coming to an end, and dismisses him as yet another conspiracy theorist. However, that pretentious dismissal is very short-lived when the landmass of California starts to sway violently and break apart, and every structure standing soon starts crumbling down. With a breathtaking ride through the world falling apart on the sidelines, Jackson makes it in time to pick up his kids, Kate and Gordon, and set out on another round of astonishing escape through dilapidating high-rises, and the persistent chasm that tails them throughout.

After the initial setup of the premise, the movie moves at almost breakneck speed, stopping occasionally to refuel with woody emotional scenes, and some ethical dilemmas thrown in as a food for thought after the circus is over. However, this is one movie where no one would give a damn about the emotional repercussions the apocalypse is going to leave on the human psyche, nor will anyone stop to give their two cents on the forced moral turpitudes the higher officials adopt when they decide to cherry-pick people from the administration worldwide. The remaining ones, fated to be the survivors, are the ones with obscene bank balance, capable to pay billion euros for their seat, leaving your average Joe out in the cold. None of that would matter when the visuals start to kick in.

One disconcerting thing is that the director couldn’t come up with avant-garde complications and variables to have his visual department play with. I mean, apart from, maybe, a couple of scenes, nothing else seems original. You have a volcano eruption followed by the spewed huge balls of lava, raining like meteors, a la “Armageddon”; then a tidal wave of the size of a 100-storey building converging on the state of Washington DC, a la “Deep Impact”; the finale where one of the ship gets flooded due to some malfunction is reminiscent of both “Titanic” and "Poseidon”. After lifting scenarios from such better disaster flicks, “2012” is left with little space to improvise and fill the scene with something of a biblical magnitude. As mentioned earlier, couple of scenes do stand out as being truly spectacular. One being the narrow escape from California, when earth starts to open itself and devour everything that stands in its way, while Jackson and all the other characters that are in the thick of all this mayhem, drive their way through the nature’s onslaught. Other is the scene, even though it’s just a tad improvement over its plagiarized source, where after a gigantic volcanic eruption, the following lava somehow takes the form of huge balls of fire, and starts raining over its vicinity spanning miles. The visuals were indeed worth admiring.

Apart from the digital manipulation, there’s nothing worth noting. Acting is woody and preachy, which is expectant of in such no-brainers. Apart from a handful of principal characters, all others are just required to deliver corny lines in the face of mankind’s extinction, while some breeze through their scene like there indeed is no tomorrow. All that the director had to do was create a bigger and a louder visual extravaganza that the masses would be obliged to pay for. Of course, Roland does a good job in this regard, simply because he knows the trick of the trade. It’s only the visuals that would compel anyone to take the effort to watch and sit through this mindless entertainment. Just don’t go in with any expectation at all, and you’re guaranteed to have a fun-filled ride.

Au Revoir Taipei - A Rare Treat

AKA: First Page Taipei.
Director: Arvin Chen.
Language: Min-Nan|Mandarin.
Rating: FULL DAMN MARKS!!!

After a spree of miserable movies, I finally stumbled upon this utterly sweet fare which blends a good portion of crime, romance and comedy in equal measure. The characters, the execution and the vibrancy of this Taiwanese product had me spellbound for its 80-odd minutes running length; a feat that very rare movies have managed to achieve in recent times.

The protagonist, Kai (Jack Yao) is a teenager in love and bidding his love adieu in the movie’s opening scene. His girlfriend is leaving for Paris, and Kai is nothing short of feeling shattered. Unable to get his head around anything, Kai gets through his day helping out his parents with their restaurant, and then frequenting a bookstore, flipping through any edition of “teach yourself French” literature, so that he could converse with his love on the phone, on the same language terms as she is currently enveloped in. Being a regular at the bookstore, Kai doesn’t fail to attract one unassuming, sweet, teenage salesgirl called Susie (Amber Kuo), employed at the bookstore. Susie doesn’t miss a breath in getting smitten by the adorable Kai, unaware that he’s already involved. She tries hard to strike up a conversation, but Kai isn’t remotely interested, and focuses all his attention on learning the new language. She even extends a hand of courtesy by getting an itinerary for a local language center, where Kai could use some help, but she drops the idea soon when she finally learns that he’s already taken. Kai gets through his days of misery and desperation in the same fashion as the previous day, all the time, carrying the hope of reuniting with his love. But when his girlfriend breaks up with him, Kai crumbles and the whole world seems to close in on him. On a whim, he decides to fly to Paris, and surprise his love and maybe, even win her back. Since he hails from a modest family, barely making their ends meet, money is going to be a huge obstacle for Kai.

In order to realize his capricious dream, Kai approaches a certain Brother Bao (Frankie Kao), who owns a real estate company, and has couple of his fingers dipped in some shady dealings as well. Helping Bao with his real estate front is his nephew Hong (Lawrence Ko), a poker-faced, bumbling idiot, who wants a shot at the bigger piece of the pie, and wants to prove his mettle to his uncle. He, with the help of his equally goofy partners-in-crime, all cloaked in gaudy orange suits, is on the lookout for a perfect score, to serve as a testament of his competency at picking up the reins once his uncle retires. Brother Bao loans Kai some money to make it comfortably to Paris, but being a businessman that he is, he wants a small favour of him at the same time. He wants Kai to take a valuable package to Paris, which will be relayed to him by one of Bao’s men the night before Kai’s flight takes off. It’s obvious that this simple plan runs into some unintended hurdles, one of which is invented by Hong who, after seeing an opportunity to showcase his talents, decides to handle the matter in his own idiosyncratic way. Add to it a couple of cops who smell something foul, and are just around the corner when the plan finally starts to materialise, landing the whole movie into a crazy chase spanned across one night, through dingy alleyways, makeshift establishments, neon-lit markets, and almost half the city. The fun never stops, and the movie never ceases to amaze you with its simplicity and relentless charm.

The above muddle gives enough space for some subplots to foster. One of them is the philanderer cop with a spurned lover, and the other is that of Kai’s friend Gao, who’s enamored by his convenience store co-worker Peach, but lacks the courage to confess it to her. All these side stories are seamlessly stitched to the mainframe of the movie, and plays out incredibly cohesively, without coming across as an unwarranted diversion, or an excuse to introduce another facet to the whole storyline. With such a cute, young and spirited cast, it’s no doubt that the movie feels very fresh on the performance front, with its two leads shining brightly throughout. Jack Yao as the heartbroken, lovelorn Kai, with a plan in tow and determination to make it through the fix he’s found himself in, does more than a decent job in fleshing his character with utmost sincerity. Amber Kuo as the lonely, yet, superhumanly adorable Susie, brings a smile on your face in every scene she appears in, and knows her way around certain tricky acting situations, too. It’s sheer delight to watch her, even if her acting is anything but groundbreaking. One can cut her some slack, on account of this being her first venture, and I’m certain that she’ll improve by leaps and bounds as she progresses.

Apart from the adorable principal characters, Lawrence Ko as the wannabe hotshot Hong is easily the guy who steals the show, with his whacky followers falling in, in close second. The scenes laced with his straight-faced efforts at being and sounding graver than he actually is, cracked me up every time. One scene in particular, where he calls Kai and lays down a deal to trade his friend Gao in exchange for the package, was nothing short of funny. Typical of any ransom speech, Hong delivers the threat of bumping off Kai’s friend, if the former fails to follow his instruction, and, yet, at the same time, Hong’s seen gesturing Gao that he’s just bluffing, consoling him that he has no intentions of carrying out such a threat. Another scene is where Hong is apprehended, and he’s so excited that he starts to interrogate the cop if they’re going in a police van, and if he can ride in front, and seems very desperate to get on with the whole process and is demanding his captors to take him to the station ASAP. It’s subtle, yet hilarious in its own peculiar way. Such deft scenes and a whole lot of other sweet ones overrun this modest and saccharine movie, where you know the fate of almost every character, the plot and ultimately, how the whole movie will wrap up.

The movie never promises you to knock your socks off with its twists and turns, because there isn’t any need for such gimmicks. The director knows that he’s got a simple, yet, a very refreshing story on his hand, and despite being a newcomer, he handles every part of the script so skillfully. He never seemed self-conceited in executing the scenes, never tried too hard to bring out the pleasing disposition of the characters and the story arc, never used the overbearing clichés to let you know that it’s a sweet romantic comedy, and never ever did he falter in the pacing and piecing the whole ensemble with such mastery. With a semblance of multiple layers to deal with, it was surprising to see the director canvas all of it with an incredibly distinct tone and elegance, unlike many other seasoned filmmakers who make a mess of such interweaving tales most of the time. The movie had eloquent editing, and a mellifluous concoction of Jazz and Blues for its background score. The soothing music made the emotions so ostensible and palpable, that you could almost taste it in your mouth. Add to it the lively, talented cast and the articulate direction, this movie is as gratifying as they come. I will hold back no praises and go out with two thumbs up, and a wholehearted recommendation for such a delightful tale of love amidst a slew of misunderstanding, over-the-top ambition, and the boneheads out to realize that very ambition.