May East

The movies from May will be divided into those from the East and those from the West, based on the locales they're set in. That's why Born into Brothels is here and not in the other post. Let's get on with it, shall we?

悪夢探偵 (Nightmare Detective)
The central concept is interesting enough: A killer has the ability to enter his victims' dreams and, while stalking them in their subconscious, make them commit bloody suicide in real life; a "nightmare detective" must thus enter his would-be victims' dreams and hunt him down. And for a while, the mystery and visceral shocks are enough to keep you interested. But the shaky, handheld "edgy" nightmares get old quickly, and the flat performances by the J-Pop leads aren't compelling enough. It doesn't help that the characters constantly insist on sleeping, even though they know it's almost certain death. By the time the murderer (played by the director) shows himself and all is revealed, it's too late to save you from not caring. Also, childhood trauma is an awfully convenient motivation for a killer - try harder next time.

盛夏光年 (Eternal Summer)
For once, a gay coming-of-age tale that isn't whiny as hell. Having attended a gay-and-lesbian film festival "just 'coz" and hated almost everything I saw due to the reason above, trust me, this is something to be thankful for. You need to get past the inherent "softness" and "cuteness" in the portrayals of the guys (that's just the way many Taiwanese men speak, and aren't inherently "gay" in and of itself), but once you've done that, there's a sensitive and sympathetic tale that's often told, but not often with as much restraint on the melodrama as is shown here. No doubt it's emo, but it doesn't cross that fine line to bad melodrama, thankfully. One thing that does bug me is the casting of someone who looks like he's 30 to play a teenager. Sure, his performance is good, but come on, his hairline's receding, for crying out loud.

頤和園 (Summer Palace)
Tailor-made for the European arthouse crowd, this overlong clunker gives selling out a whole new meaning. The director knows that excessive nudity, self-indulgent voiceovers, meaningless dialogue, lots of fucking, the lightest hint of political and sociological events, thin characterizations, bad photography (the list goes on) sells to pretentious fucks in the West, so he throws in lots of them. This also has the bonus effect of making the film banned in his own country, thus giving him instant street cred in the cinematheques of Euro-art capitals. But it doesn't make it less of a steaming piece of crap. I've rarely seen more boring fucking. Seriously, give me Back Door Bitches any day over this.

Born Into Brothels: Calcutta's Red Light Kids
Photographs are a record of a specific instant in time. Similarly, videos are a record of a specific period of time, but they have an added dimension of duration. So what does this have to do with the film? Well, this film takes videos of these children of prostitutes at a very specific moment in their lives, and captures, for some of them at least, the very best moments of their lives. And this is the thing that is heartbreaking. We know some of them are in school, and there is at least some small measure of hope in their lives. But we also know that most of them are heading towards dead-ends, and will forever look back at this period of time with longing in their hearts. With their photography, they captured the rare, elusive beauty that is found in their environments. But they will just as likely never see it again in their lifetime. Children should never have to say that they know life is suffering, and we all have to endure it. But for these children, it's their reality. And sitting in that theatre, watching these lives unfold, and finally finding out who might make it and who are doomed, after we've come to love them all unquestionably, is one of the most painful cinematic experiences I've ever had. A truly powerful documentary, and well worthy of its many accolades and awards.

โหมโรง (The Overture)
This fits squarely in the mold of Miramax films - middlebrow fare that purports to be arthouse but in reality is safe and unchallenging. It's a biopic of a famous Thai classical musician, and while it looks good, it ultimately treats him with too much reverence to be completely convincing. There's a central rivalry that leads to some entertaining musical showdowns, which provides opportunities for sharp edits and interesting shots. But here's also where our lack of knowledge about the classical Thai instrument in question shows up the sharpest - we really can't tell which mode of playing is more difficult, and as such, who is really the better player, even though the film makes a claim for one of them. There's also a portion of the film that takes place around World War II, and that really feels like an entirely different movie, for the themes never really tie together for both sections. One thing I wish I could've seen more of is when a father plays the ancient instrument and accompanies his son who's playing a piano, improvising as he listens to the Western tune. It's a beautiful, spontaneous moment of magic, and I wish there were more of such moments in the otherwise rather mediocre film.