125 Years Isn't That Old, Is It? (From Ibsen to BLIND SHAFT (2003))

I’m busy translating a bunch of business contracts. The work is tedious, but money’s money, even if it’s the Korean won, which has depreciated so much in recent months that I've actually started turning down some jobs after doing the money calculation. Still, it's a way to earn a little money that also allows me the flexible schedule and large blocks of free time needed to work on my novel and make films.

As for making the feature film, in search of ideas for a story, I’ve begun to do what I often do when I can’t come up with an original idea of my own for whatever reason. I’ve turned to works from the past that are in the public domain to see whether any of them can be updated to the contemporary Hong Kong setting. This is a very common practice. George Lucas’s STAR WARS series is basically a Japanese samurai film set in space. Val Lewton and Jacques Tourneur’s I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943) is a retelling of JANE EYRE.

Nearly all novels or plays that were published prior to 1923 is in the public domain. This doesn’t mean, however that filmmakers can have a field day. Many of these literary works that are in the public domain aren’t well-suited for modern audiences. And those that are (Jane Austen & some Shakespeare) have already been done over and over.

In addition, literary and dramatic conventions from the past are often very different from contemporary ones, which means they don’t always help the cause of providing fodder for a medium, narrative film, which requires accessible storytelling.

The last time I ventured into the fascinating world of the public domain, I ended up with a short film based on Sophocles’ ANTIGONE, which in its original is compelling even if its form is so unlike any that we modern audiences are used to. In my hands, it turned into a straightforward drama with added exposition scenes between Antigone and Creon. The outcome was disappointing at best and very much a strange baby that was neither here nor there.

That said, I’ve begun to seriously consider doing a contemporary version of Henrik Ibsen’s THE WILD DUCK set in Hong Kong as part of a series of feature films about Hong Kong. To do so requires some modification. As great a contribution to modern theater that Ibsen has made (which is absolutely in no doubt as any self-respecting Norwegian will happily tell you and many did during my two-day stint as a street book peddler near Columbia University before our move to HK (which is another story)), much of the original play, which was written in 1884 and is in five acts, now seems clunky and dull. A contemporary adaptation could benefit from slimming the story into 3 acts and losing many ancillary characters and some story elements.

I’ve begun doing a quick outline of this adaptation. It could serve as the basis of a somewhat talky but could-be-compelling-depending-on-execution film focused on two main characters : GREGERS and HJALMAR from the original. The story still has a lot to say about life everywhere, but could be tweaked to say volumes about life in Hong Kong.

It helps that the original play isn't that well known. Many people, even those who know who Ibsen is, aren't that familiar with this play. And for whatever reason, deserved or not, this play as well as many of Ibsens' other works, are now relegated to the category of literary and dramatic works that are thought to be amazing but read only because some teacher at school assigned it or as part of some acting class. I believe the same can be said of much of Chekhov. (This is just an observation. I don't have a strong opinion on whether this is good or bad.)

I'm mostly concerned with pragmatic aspects of doing such an adaptation. Another plus is that there haven't been many screen adaptations of this play. The most recent and famous one being by Henri Safran in 1983 starring Liv Ullmann and Jeremy Irons. (This is a good thing and a bad thing. The bad is that there are probably good reasons why there haven't been more screen adaptations of this play.)

On a different note, I've just seen BLIND SHAFT (2003) by Yang Li. I’d caught bits of this film earlier in NY, when it aired on a local public TV channel. I didn't know much about the film or the filmmaker then.

Having just seen this film in its entirety, I was startled that such a bleak and dark film about contemporary life made its way past the Chinese censors. In fact, I learned from a little research that the filmmaker is based in Germany and circumvented Chinese censors by making the film outside the established filmmaking procedures and conrols by registering it as a foreign production originating in Germany and Hong Kong.

It is, in fact, one of the best films to come out of China that I’ve ever seen. (*It's at least 20,000 times better than the tired loosely-historical epics with 20,000 PLA extras that have now become a major staple of Chinese cinema and which function as de facto propaganda for China's superpower greatness -- Yes, the same critique can be applied to vast spectacles from the U.S., only the U.S. government doesn't play such an overtly direct role in film production. But of course, those films suck just as much.)

Yang Li's ugly little lump of coal of a film is intense for its entire 85 minutes while delivering many little truths about the price of modern life.

My only quibble is that were I the producer, I would have strongly urged Yang Li to cut the first two minutes from the film so that the film would then start from a completely different place and deliver even more of a jolt than it already does. Once you see the film, you’ll know exactly what I mean.

The Korean Wave and Women in Hong Kong, Singapore, & Japan

I've already written about how the typical Hong Kong Chinese response upon learning that I am Korean is to smile and shout, "Daaih Chuuhng Gam!"

This is, in its own way, a manifestation of the "Korean Wave," the term used to describe the proliferation of popular culture (pop songs, movies, TV shows) from South Korea to the rest of Asia in the past decade. For the Chinese-dominant part of Asia, the embodiment of this Korean Wave is "Daaih Chuuhng Gam" aka JEWEL IN THE PALACE (2003). For Japan, it is the TV soap WINTER SONATA (2003).

Indeed, the Korean Wave has been such a big phenomenon that it has already elicited its share of backlash in China, Japan, and Taiwan, in the form of published tirades, netizen attacks, rants from jingoist politicians, and even some local performers publicly lashing out against their South Korean counterparts. Chang Zhen-yue, a Taiwanese rapper, even has a song that excoriates Bae Yong Joon (the star of WINTER SONATA) and Korean boy bands.

I have just read a book called EAST ASIAN POP CULTURE: Analysing the Korean Wave (2008) edited by Chua Beng Huat and Koichi Iwabuchi. It is a collection of academic essays regarding the phenomenon approached from various academic angles.

Here are some interesting tidbits:

1)a) An essay that examines views of women viewers of Korean soaps in HK and Singapore revealed that 30% of HK women subjects thought there is some discrimination against women in Hong Kong, while nearly 50% of Singapore women believed there was discrimination against women in Singapore.

b) Given the statement: "I have to be married to be happy.", 39.1% of HK women subjects disagreed w/ this while just 10% of Singaporean women subjects disagreed.

**The author of the essay used a very small sample of women and did not try to draw big generalizations or conclusions. Still, the numbers are interesting.**


2) Women viewers of TV soaps in HK, Singapore, and Taiwan nearly unilaterally stated that they did not like graphic or overly sexualized scenes and situations portrayed in American TV shows like DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES and SEX IN THE CITY and cited the lack of such overt sexual content in South Korean TV soaps as one of the reasons they liked the shows.


3) Before the Korean Wave, Japanese TV soaps were very popular in many Chinese-speaking parts of Asia. Many TV programmers in Taiwan and other parts of Asia were initially drawn to Korean soaps in the late 1990s because they were cheaper to purchase than Japanese TV soaps. Japanese TV soaps have lost favor in many Asian TV markets since then.

As for the popularity of HK and/or Chinese-language soaps in non-Chinese Asian nations, to date, no HK or Chinese-language TV soap opera has been broadcast on network TV in Japan. (**There was no mention of it in the book, but my guess is that this is also true for South Korea.**) Various reasons are cited for this, but primarily, lack of production value.


4) Another essay examined the viewing practices of middle-aged women viewers of WINTER SONATA in Japan. This demographic of fans has often been derided and belittled for their outward enthusiasm in the mainstream press and by Japanese men in particular. I too shared this prejudice. Lonely women in their 40s and 50s swooning over a sensitive young soap star. The whole thing seemed rather silly to me.

But the essay, Winter Sonata and Cultural Practices of Active Fans in Japan: Considering Middle-aged Women as Cultural Agents, written by Yoshitaka Mori made me see this phenomenon in a totally new light.

Driven by this TV soap, many middle-aged women have taken initiative and have gone out in the world to do very cool things. They weren't merely passive viewers, who due to loneliness and misery, were being duped or manipulated by TV producers. Not at all. They were finding an active meaning in their life and in some cases, were duping the media. A subject cited in the essay stated how she'd hoodwinked the press by performing or acting the role of a zealous fan to get her photo in the newspapers.

Moreover, these women were taking initiative and expanding their mundane routines. Many had learned to use the computer and the Internet to learn more about the show and to interact with other women like them. Others had travelled, many for the first time, to South Korea, a country whose culture they did not know much about.

They did so not in search of cute young men, as they're often derided by the mainstream press, but to learn about Korean culture and to see things for themselves. This is after many decades of having a very biased and limited knowledge of Korea, given the already enmeshed and complex relationship that the two nations have of each other.

Not that any and all exchange of culture ought to be accepted uncritically as something transcendant and positive, but these middle-aged women were doing cool things and not simply being older versions of silly school girls. The essay even cited an example, in which these middle aged women viewers of WINTER SONATA were doing more to solve international political friction than conventional government institutions.

The point is, the relationship of middle-aged Japanese women fans of WINTER SONATA to the Korean Wave is much more complex and interesting than what has been usually described in the mainstream media in Japan, South Korea, and elsewhere. In other words, don't mess with and don't underestimate middle-aged women.

Lowlife Jerk and Top 10 Films of 2008

Another year is coming to a close, and I'm feeling a little down.

I've gotten a total of 4 responses from posting notices here and on various Hong Kong public forums seeking people interested in collaborating on films. And that's counting the one loser who actually took time out of his miserable life to e-mail me, a complete stranger, just to say he could tell from my ad that I was "a lowlife jerk."

It seems I've come quite a long way since being a promising young filmmaker generating real buzz. Four guys from my circle at NYU, have since directed commercial films that won theatrical releases. One guy, whom I'd pegged as being the least talented among us, has directed half a dozen commercial films, including one of the highest-grossing films in Korean film history.

In contrast, I'm here in Hong Kong without a single contact, posting lame on-line classified ads practically begging people to work with me. (I think Peter Kubelka, who made some wacky experimental films, including UNSERE AFRIKAREISE, also had to beg and rope people in to make films for practically all of his career.)

My rational side tells me I'm still young enough not to panic and need not get down on myself about this general sad state-of-being. This side also tells me to keep plugging away, stay upbeat, and focus on my successes: two published novels that won some critical acclaim, some plays that were produced, a screenplay that was sold, and a string of short films...

But there's another part of me that can't help but get a bit negative. I've wasted so many opportunities in the past for whatever reason, and now, this stint in Hong Kong feels like I'm serving time in filmmaking purgatory. I've become a fish-out-of-water struggling to make a film under the least favorable conditions.

It doesn't help that our life here brings us into contact for the most part with people who have absolutely no interest in films and novels. It doesn't startle me at all now to hear people say with all seriousness that the best movie they've ever seen in their life is HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3 or THE MUMMY--which wasn't a bad film at all, but how could that be any grown-up's best film ever?

Anyway, that's enough whining. Sorry!

Here is my list of the TOP 10 FILMS OF 2008 with country of origin and brief category description.

A few titles were actually originally released in 2007, but are being included in the list because they played in many theaters in 2008. For the most part, except for the two South Korean films and TROPIC THUNDER, which I believe doesn't get the credit it deserves because it's so easy to dismiss, these films were included in the major big movie lists.

The glaring omission from my list is the Romanian film FOUR MONTHS, THREE WEEKS & TWO DAYS by Cristian Mungju, which has been heralded by nearly every major film critic in the West, but which didn't impress me at all. I thought the film, a slice-of-life that follows two young women on the day one helps the other get a back alley abortion in a repressive Romania of the 1980s, works only conceptually but not at all as a film.

The film makes its point, in a very dull and clumsy manner, that life was bad in Romania and back-alley abortions are gruesome. But is that really a point that's hard to make? Even as a staunch supporter of a woman's right to choose, I still found the film tedious at best.

No Hong Kong or Chinese films made my list this year. It was definitely not a good year for Hong Kong films. Rather sad.


TOP 10 FILMS OF 2008

1. THE CHASER by Na Hong-jin (South Korea) *Commercial thriller/Subverted policier*

2. THE DARK KNIGHT by Christopher Nolan (USA) *Commercial thriller*

3. THE EDGE OF HEAVEN by Fatih Akin (Germany) *Serious Drama/Social Commentary*

4. ROUGH CUT by Jang Hoon & written by Kim Ki-duk (South Korea) *Commercial thriller/Subverted Gangster Film*

5. BEFORE THE DEVIL KNOWS YOU'RE DEAD by Sydney Lumet (USA) *Subverted Heist Film/Morality Tale/Modern Greek Tragedy*

6. THERE WILL BE BLOOD by Paul Thomas Anderson (USA) *Serious Drama/Social Expose*

7. CHOP SHOP by Ramin Bahrani (USA) *Social Commentary/Gritty Human Drama*

8. THE VISITOR by Thomas McCarthy (USA) *Social Commentary/Message Film about 9.11 and Its Impact on Immigrants*

9. IRON MAN by Jon Favreau (USA) *Fluff Fun*

10. TROPIC THUNDER by Ben Stiller (USA) *Fluff Fun*

HONORABLE MENTION: KUNGFU PANDA and WALL-E

**THE CHASER is the best film of the year by far. See it if you haven't done so. You're in for a treat.**

To put things in context, here are the films that are currently playing in nearly all theaters in Hong Kong (granted it's Christmas season):

TWILIGHT

TALES OF DESPEREAUX

MADAGASCAR 2

POKEMON MOVIE 10

BEDTIME STORIES

ONG BAK 2

IP MAN

THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL

FOUR CHRISTMASES


Palace IFC, in the fanciest mall in Hong Kong is also playing

AUSTRALIA


And the one "arthouse theater" in HK is playing the following films in addition to the above titles:

FOREVER ENTHRALLED (China)

IF YOU ARE THE ONE (China)

TOKYO!

TRUE WOMEN FOR SALE (Hong Kong)

MIAO MIAO (Taiwan)

TWILIGHT (2008) aka Book Proves Secret Fear of Writers to be True

There are some immensely popular books that seem to be fluff but are so well written that even if the material isn't one's cup of laai cha, one can’t help but feel a begrudging respect. For me, the Harry Potter series is an example of this. I just don't care for wizards, magic and spells. It's a matter of personal preference. Still, it's clear those books are writen extremely well.

Then there is TWILIGHT, a bestseller by Stephenie Meyer which has now spurned a film adaptation. So Jene, who loves the Harry Potter series and has introduced me to many books that I would have otherwise skipped, suggested I read the book as an exercise to see how it would be adapted for the screen.

Adapting a very popular novel to the screen is always difficult since a strong fan base demands that the film not deviate from the book even if this strict adhesion to the source material works against the film. On the other hand, it also means a minimum x number of fans of the book will flock to theaters regardless of how the adaptation is done.

At the risk of being called out for sour grapes (which I must harbor at some level since my own books haven't sold well), my main impression of the novel is that it seems to have been written by an 11-year-old for other 11-year-olds. The sentences are clunky and scenes go on for much too long. The vampire story seems to be rehashed from existing works of that genre and there's very little that could be called complex or sophisticated. I can't quite understand how any grown-up could derive enjoyment from this piece of junk.

The remarkable success of a book like this makes me question my own sanity. To me, it's so evident that this book is so unbelievably lacking in every way, yet it has somehow won the praise of hundreds of thousands of readers. It's enough to make a writer lose faith in the reader and wonder why he or she even bothers.

Whenever I read a complete piece of rubbish like this that's sold millions of copies, I can't help but think back to the writers I've known in my life (most whom I met when I was in university or freshly out of university). In their unguarded moments, nearly every writer I know has told me that as cynical as it sounds, deep down he or she has come to accept that the worst most talentless writers are the ones who make it commercially.

I don't agree with this view since it's a blanket statement and it's clear that there are exceptions. But TWILIGHT certainly seems to providence ammunition for such a claim. Sure not every novel has to say something serious or important, and there is a place in this world for fluff. But this book isn't even good fluff.

That said, the only sense I can make for how and why this book works(and rather well obviously given its success) is that it does, in its inane, childish and clumsy way, try to tell an earnest story of incredibly intense first love. BELLA, the narrator and main character, sees and studies the beautiful EDWARD, who is actually a vampire, as no one else at her school does. The bulk of the book is long passages of Bella obsessing and agonizing over the meaning behind Edward's tiniest gestures, words, and actions.

As for the film adaptation, this is precisely where it fails. Without the film equivalent of Bella's obsessing over the object of her first love, the intensity of the obsession/first love doesn't come through on screen. It also doesn't help that the film treats these scenes of fascination-turning-to-obsession-to-purest love quickly and as merely a means to get to some special-effects-driven good vampire vs. bad vampire fight sequences.

Despite this shift in focus, which I can only guess must have been made to try to add production value to the film and make it feel more like a movie, the special effects are poor and there’s very little to distinguish the film from a small TV show except that Robert Pattison plays the moody vampire. Overall, the film plays worse than most recent TV shows about supernatural elements mixing with the ordinary populace set in high schools, which as a TV genre, tends to be far more witty and sophisticated.

The classic BUFFY THE VAMPIRE series, which also featured a moody vampire love story, epitomizes this. The genius of that series and its creator Joss Whedon is that each episode also worked as social commentary about familiar issues in high school life (eg. Eating disorders, cliques, losing one’s virginity…)

Lacking this sophistication in the source material, the film adaptation of TWILIGHT also disappoints because it fails to show the earnest obsessive intensity of first love that is the book's focus and main strength.

Seeking Collaborators for Independent Film in Hong Kong

I posted an ad on Gumtree for actors and other people to collaborate on an independent film here in Hong Kong.

CLICK TO SEE GUMTREE AD

I'm looking for actors, writers, filmmakers, or creative people in general who are just interested in making an independent film and can invest their time and energy to collaborate on a film.

The key is to not try to follow the production model that is used by big-budget mainstream films. Trying to replicate a mainstream film on a miniscule budget leads only to disappointment as I've learned on numerous occasions in the past. Instead, make a film that mainstream film production can't make due to the fact that they are hindered by number one motive of recouping investments. This film will be like THE PUFFY CHAIR, MUTUAL APPRECIATION, KISSING ON THE MOUTH, QUIET CITY, etc. what film festival programmers and critics have labeled Mumblecore.

If any of you are or know actors or creative people who aren't shy but have a general open and brave persona and are willing to do new things, please let them know about me and my independent film.

Race, ethnicity, language ability, stupid things like this do not matter. What matters is energy and general openness and willingness to invest time and effort to collaborate on film as actor, writer, or cameraperson, or best, all of these things. Experience in traditional film production or acting doesn't matter. This is not a mainstream production. we're looking for interesting creative people who are up for something different and want to seize this opportunity to make a cool interesting film about life in Hong Kong.

The best thing about making independent films is the collaboration and the willingness to experiment and try something new. Again, this is a small no-budget film that's more like a theater workshop. We'll see who shows up, collaborate to finetune a story and script and go from there. This will be a very low-budget film, so don't think of a traditional studio set. This is guerilla filmmaking.

No guarantees of fame or wealth. But I can guarantee a feature film will be made, and it will be interesting. Something that has true passion and life. Something that you'll be proud of.

Please pass this along to those who might be interested.

Beginnings of Pre-Production aka Thank You Val Lewton

So I'm really at the beginning of what I'm sure will be a long process to make an independent feature film in HK.

I've checked with film labs. I've gone over my equipment. I've compiled a small budget. I've even built a poor man's steadicam with plans found on the Internet from the famous Johnny Chung. By the way, he has become a youtube superstar lately with his 3-D subvert tutorial of the Nintendo wii.

I got the parts from a hardware store in Aberdeen and was able to put together the poor man's steadicam in a couple of hours. I can't believe how well the poor man's steadicam works. If only I'd had this when I was shooting FREE COUNTRY. Oh well.

Anyway, all I need now are actors. And more importantly, some idea, a story to hang scenes on.

I have really nothing as of yet, just a bunch of unrelated ideas and sketches and lots and lots of notes. So I spent part of the day looking for inspiration in the classics.

What do I mean by classics?

I read the screenplay for the Val Lewton-produced classic, THE SEVENTH VICTIM (1943). I've seen this film a few times, including once at a screening with live organ accompaniment at the classic restored movie house off of the Stanford campus in Palo Alto.

I'd forgotten a lot of details from that film. The only scene I remembered was the unforgettable famous scene with the gang of pacifist Satanists. (It's really in the film.)

I couldn't believe some of the things I was reading. It was one hell of a screenplay and gave me some good ideas.

I don't know much about Val Lewton except that he was from the Ukraine and was the apotheosis of the low-budget producer but with a knack for storytelling and mood setting. I remember being so impressed after seeing CAT PEOPLE (1942) and BEDLAM (1946), which was one of his bigger-budget pictures. You can't help but recognize the talent despite the unbelievably low production values in some of his films.

Anyway, this is a start. We'll see how it goes from here. I do miss NY though. That's a city that's filled with actors

THE EDGE OF HEAVEN (2008), aka This Film Makes Us See with New Eyes

For whatever reason, at some point in their careers, many writers stop reading other people's books. There are too many books in the world. They don't want to be influenced or contaminated by other writers.

This is also the case with filmmakers. At a certain point, many filmmakers stop watching other people's films, especially new films.

I'm not like this. I no longer read nearly as much as I did or should, but I continue to actively watch new films, devouring them when given the opportunity, and not just "quality" films. Despite being, for a lack of a better term, a film snob, I watch many different types of movies and have no qualms about watching what many would dismiss as junk (eg. YOU DON'T MESS WITH THE ZOHAN, MADE OF HONOR, HAROLD AND KUMAR ESCAPE FROM GUANTANAMO...)

Why do I not discriminate so?

Because most movies, whether they are branded mainstream or independent arthouse, are bad. I know not to expect otherwise.

To see a truly good film is a rare event. That's why I am so pleased to write this post.

THE EDGE OF HEAVEN (2008), whose German title is AUF DER ANDEREN SEITE (lit. On the Other Side) and was written and directed by Fatih Akin, has startled me with its masterfulness.

I should have checked out this director earlier as one of his previous films, GEGEN DIE WAND (2004), a.k.a. HEAD-ON, was talked up quite a bit a few years back in NY. I passed on seeing that film then, but will soon remedy this.

This young German director of Turkish descent has created a stunning film in THE EDGE OF HEAVEN. It's no surprise that the film has received critical acclaim at prestigious international film festivals, including Best Screenplay at Cannes, and is on many film critics' TOP 10 FILMS of 2008 lists.

Instead of a clunky description of the story, I will point out two examples of masterful filmmaking from the film.

Example #1: The iconic German actress Hanna Schygulla plays the aged mother of one of the main characters. Her daughter, a German university student with an idealistic streak, brings a Turkish woman whom she has just met, to stay in their house. The daughter wants to help the Turkish woman, who is homeless and an illegal immigrant. The mother seems to project quiet disapproval and warns the daughter about harboring an illegal alien. In this manner, the film makes the viewer think he or she is seeing a contrast between the staid mother and the bohemian rebellious daughter.



Later, however, the film reveals that this staid mother is not who the viewer has come to think she is. In her youth, she was also a free spirit and a bit of a bohemian who hitchhiked to India. She shows herself to be someone so different than who she seemed to be.

Thus, the viewer's very perception is challenged and this character is revealed to be complex and truly human and not the "type" that the viewer has pegged her to be. In other words, the film challenges and undermines the viewers' perception to provide true insight.


Example #2: The opening scene of the film is of a car driving into a gas station in rural Turkey. A man gets out of the car, asks the gas station attendant to fill it up, then goes inside to the little convenience store, where he buys some snacks and exchanges small talk with the shopkeeper about a song that is playing on the radio. The shopkeeper says the singer is from the region but died of cancer due to fallout from Chernobyl that's only revealing itself to the public now. The man pays for his stuff and the scene ends. It's a two-minute scene. No tension. No conflict. No nothing. Completely mundane. Something that could happen to anyone.

Ninety-minutes of the film later, the same scene is replayed in exactly the same form. No changes. But the film has revealed the events that have led up to this man's setting foot in that gas station. It's the same scene. The same two minutes. But now, it's filled with tension, true pathos, and an abundance of meaning.

Again, this is an example where the film shows us something, makes us think we see it, only to reveal that what we think we're seeing is not so. It challenges the expectations and perception of the viewer. It makes us see with new eyes.

These two examples are just the tip of the iceberg for this remarkable film. This film is a wonder to behold. The performances are superb. The storytelling is quietly confident even as it takes the viewer on an emotional journey. It is a drama of the best kind. A must see.

As for Year-End Best lists, many of which contain this film, many people dislike such lists and dismiss them outright. Although I often think these lists contain egregiously bad films, I find that such lists can sometimes help bring attention to deserving films.

Many excellent films peter out without seeing the light of day because they don't register on people's radar. Even people who haven't seen QUANTUM OF SOLACE will have heard of it because of the ridiculous amount of money used to market this piece of junk, but this is just not so with even THE EDGE OF HEAVEN or even smaller films without the marketing dollars to promote them.

The Goethe Institute in Hong Kong is promoting a screening of this film in March 2009 that will take place at the Hong Kong Film Archive. For more info, please click on the title of this post.

Shooting Film in Hong Kong a.k.a. My Run-In with Run Run

I'm preparing to shoot an independent feature film here in Hong Kong.

As part of this process, I call a bunch of film labs to find out where I can get 16mm film processed in Hong Kong. I'm calling to find out what film stocks can be processed and what the rates are. The person who answers the phone at Mandarin Labs in Kwun Tong connects me to a different person, who passes me on to someone else. Eventually, I get the ear of a film technician named Paul Wong.

I tell him I am an independent filmmaker. He gets me right away and gives me the scoop and a rate. He tells me that Mandarin is the only lab in Hong Kong that handles 16mm. He also tells me there is no film lab in Shenzhen but there is one in Guangzhou. He adds that they probably don't do 16mm. As for reversal film, this cannot be processed in Hong Kong any more and suggests I look at labs in Australia or the U.S.

Overall, the guy is informative and down-to-earth. I'm talking to a human being and not a robot or a recording. The experience is the same as if I'd called up a small mom-and-pop film lab in the States. (These are mostly dying out, by the way...)

Then, I call a bunch of other labs to see whether Paul Wong is on the level about his lab's being the only lab that does 16mm processing. Some other lab tells me to try Shaw Brothers Lab in Sai Kung.

So I do, only to find that the receptionist who fields the call is completely confused by my inquiry. She keeps asking me what company I'm calling from and I keep repeating that I am an independent filmmaker, which just confuses her more. I tell her that I produce and shoot my own films. This baffles her. It's not the English that confuses her, but the concept, as the woman's English is quite good.

I ask her over and over if Shaw Brothers Labs processes 16mm film. Instead of giving me an answer, she asks what country I'm from. I ask, why does that matter? She says it doesn't, but keeps asking what country?

Finally, after talking in circles for too long, she gives me another number to call. I do and get a person who tells me she is "the one who can handle (my)inquiry." I ask her whether her lab does 16mm negative processing, and if so, how much it costs per foot. Most film labs in the U.S. have that info on their web site. And if they don't, that's what the phone is there for.

The Shaw Brothers Lab woman says she cannot tell me this information over the phone and tells me I must first make a formal written inquiry.

I can't help but shiver. It's as if she's used some special kind of Sai Kung feng shui to read my mind and knows that I'm about to make an epic film, my magnum opus celebrating the life and times of his true majesty, the one and only Dalai Lama. --- (For those without a sense of humor and the 30,000+ Chinese censors trolling the Internet at this very moment for objectionable content, that was a joke. I am not making such a film.)

I explain again to the lab person that all I need is a YES or NO and a figure per foot as I'm trying to estimate a budget for a small film shoot.

She says, "I understand. But it's better you make an official request in writing."

Finally, I give up and ask if it's okay to e-mail such a request. She says fine and gives me her e-mail.

I e-mail a request because frankly, what choice do I have?

I find the whole experience a bit strange. Granted there probably aren't that many people calling about 16mm processing, but a film lab is a film lab. And this is Hong Kong, an alledged world city with a proud filmmaking tradition.

All I can say is, Sir Run Run or whoever is running the empire over at Shaw Brothers has created quite a bizarre institution.

Of course, having sent out a formal request in writing as instructed, a part of me already knows what will inevitably happen next.

In a day or two, I'll get an e-mail in official-sounding yet slightly-botched and stilted Queen's English from some stiff at Shaw Brothers Labs "regretfully" informing me that they "no longer process 16mm film, especially for any production that portrays the Dalai Lama in a positive light."--( Note to censors: That was another bad joke.)

Anyway, if anyone else out there is thinking of shooting 16mm in Hong Kong, this is the low-down on available labs. One lab. One system.


POSTSCRIPT: I called back a few times the next day, and again talked to the same person, who this time told me she had received my e-mail request but "couldn't respond because I hadn't included my phone number."

She then asked that I submit dates when I wanted the processing done because "the price depends on the schedule."

After getting off the phone with this ridiculous person, I got fed up and called back on a different extension and finally got someone on the phone who instantly gave me the info I needed.

$1.20 HKD/ ft. She then explained she'd been out of the office and someone else had been getting her calls for her.

Basically, the joker who I'd talked to initially had had me jump through hoops instead of simply saying, "I don't know. The person who knows is out of the office. Please call back."

Is it that hard to say, "I don't know"? I say this all the time. Geez!

BELLA by Alejandro Monteverde (How is this film in Hong Kong?)

BELLA (2006), written and directed by Alejandro Monteverde, is in theaters now in Hong Kong after making its rounds in film festivals. For a so-called independent film, it is shot beautifully and has some real production value. It looks slick like a film that must have cost about $500K to $1 million U.S. dollars.



It's an earnest work that clearly has good intentions. Despite this, the film suffers from a very poor script and doesn't transcend that fundamental flaw.

Basically, the film is a long introduction to two characters, a chef and a waitress, who have experienced sadness and grief. For the first 50 minutes, the film trudges along as an "I've got a secret" story. It's clear the protagonist is still agonizing about some dark event from his past and that is why he is drawn to the pregnant waitress.

Until the dark secret about his past is revealed, the film is content to show the two main characters mosey about during the course of a day at various iconic settings in and around NYC (riding the subway, walking through a street fair, talking to a homeless man...) talking to each other.

By the time that dark secret is finally revealed, the audience has lost all interest. The film and its characters don't give the viewer any reason to care other than that one is pregnant and the other broods a lot and once was a star soccer player. It's a shame because the character of the fallen soccer hero is one that holds real possibility for drama.

Ultimately, this film manages to bore and insult the audience. Insult how? An independent movie should show some truth. This movie fails to do that.

The only thing that rings true in this film is the portrayal of a hectic high-stress kitchen of a Mexican restaurant in NYC. Nearly every other detail rings false. Just because a film has sadness and grief as its topic and doesn't have explosions doesn't automatically make it some kind of independent film gem. This film is clear evidence of that.

How this film managed to cross the Pacific and reach Hong Kong screens while far worthier independent films that deserve to be seen and gain recognition never manage to do so is a real mystery and a shame.

LIST OF MOVIES Made by independent filmmakers for less than $100K that are more compelling and show real vision that have yet to win theatrical release or wide distribution and definitely have not played in Hong Kong:

1) AFTER THE APOCALYPSE (2004) by Yasuaki Nakjima

2) YORICK (2002) by Jonny Stranger

3) FUNNY HA HA (2002) by Andrew Bujalski

WINDS OF SEPTEMBER (2008) by Tom Shu-yu Lin, (How a Film Just Missed Being Spectacular)

Say It Ain’t So, Tom. Say It Ain’t So.

WINDS OF SEPTEMBER (2008), Tom Shu-yu Lin’s feature debut, is not a film that’s shy about its earnestness as it well shouldn’t. After all, it's a movie about young people and that’s what being young is. The film, which is in Mandarin and is playing now in Hong Kong, tells an episodic coming-of-age story set in 1996 in a provincial town in Taiwan, and follows a tight-knit pack of seven high school boys in the months leading up to graduation.

The film is best in its early moments as it relishes in its episodic storytelling and leisurely shows the boys engrossed in their youthful adventures. They go to professional baseball games and cheer on their heroes, one of whom is the slugger Liao Min-hsung. They break into a swimming pool at night and go skinny-dipping. They ride around in motorcycles. They horse around and crack jokes. They cut school. They smoke, curse, and drink beer. They get chewed out by the school disciplinarian. Through it all, the camaraderie and joy of youth comes across loud and clear. This may not provide dramatic thrust in the conventional sense, but the energy and charm in these scenes more than make up for this.



Meanwhile, the film gradually focuses on two boys in the group: Yen (Rhydian Vaughan), the handsome playboy, and his best friend Tang (Chang Cheh), a shy boy with a more serious outlook than the others. It’s a familiar dynamic seen often in high school stories—I don't know why, but the film kept reminding me of John Knowles’ A SEPARATE PEACE.

After Yen’s womanizing causes problems for the boys as well as Yen’s girlfriend, Yen and Tang grow apart. Each starts to suspect the other has betrayed him. Overall, the performances of these young actors are convincing. And the script skillfully shows how minor things can be the catalyst for big emotions during adolescence.

But the final third of the film loses steam, precisely because of a contrived narrative device, which then becomes the vehicle on which the story is towed rather clumsily to the finish line.


What is this contrived narrative device?


*WARNING. SPOILER HERE.*

It's clear that the point of the movie is to show the disillusionment of young men and the repercussion of that disillusionment on a so-called band of brothers. But must that disillusionment stem from a totally contrived motorcycle accident and a boy falling into a coma? Can't adolescents grow disillusioned simply from seeing the grown-up world at large?

The motorcycle accident scene rings false on so many levels that I won't even try to list them here. Put simply, the scene is when this movie morphs from a promising film into a Korean soap opera of the worst kind--the kind in which main characters spontaneously combust and suffer from amnesia, cancer, and blindness all at the same time, and then learn that they are actually related to their lovers. It's phony and contrived tragedy that startles momentarily but ultimately precludes the outpouring of any real empathy with the characters.

Since this misplaced and wholly unnecessary inciting narrative device is false, every narrative beat depicting its consequences also rings false and the performance of the actors falters drastically in the scenes that follow. I’m not saying that all bad acting is due to a flaw in the script, just that most is. Whatever the case, it’s a shame the film takes this direction, since it clearly didn’t need to.

Meanwhile, interspersed throughout the film are news clips of another betrayal, a baseball scandal, in which professional players, including Liao, are revealed to have thrown games for money. It’s abundantly clear the film means for the baseball scandal to echo and heighten the "loss-of-innocence,"--I hate using this term but couldn't think of an adequate substitute--that the young characters experience. But this only works in theory. Indeed, it's truly amazing how one wrong turn in the story can destroy a movie and make it so difficult for audiences to empathize with the characters on screen.

In the end, despite all the outbursts of intense emotion from the ensemble cast over what true friendship means, the film fails to pack an emotional punch. It’s really too bad because with a few small modifications in the script, this film could have been something spectacular.

THE WAY WE ARE (2008), a HK movie that's unlike any other

THE WAY WE ARE (2008) by Ann Hui

Ann Hui is one of those directors whose reputation has been cemented decades ago. She's written about with respect in nearly every serious book about Hong Kong cinema. Her most famous films are SONGS OF EXILE, JULY'S RHAPSODY, STORY OF WOO VIET, and BOAT PEOPLE...

I have yet to see these films, but after seeing THE WAY WE ARE, will quickly remedy this. THE WAY WE ARE caught me completely by surprise. I was startled that such a small film with absolutely no commercial value was made and released in Hong Kong.



The Chinese title of this movie is "Tin Shui Wai Days and Nights," and it's a fitting one. The film is set in Tin Shui Wai, a.k.a. The City of Sadness, and follows a hard-working mother and her teenaged son over a few months.

She works at the supermarket. He hangs out with friends but doesn't get into trouble. He's waiting to find out the result of his Form 6 test. They visit their relatives, who are wealthier than them. The boy's grandmother gets sick and is hospitalized. The mother says she is too busy to visit the grandmother at the hospital.

In effect, the movie trudges along on the strength of a handful of false leads. Is there some dark family secret behind the mother's not visiting the grandmother at the hospital? Will the boy get into Form 6? Will the mother eventually lose it and unleash the pent-up anger and resentment from the sacrifices she's had to make all her life? Will the boy be led astray by his friends and commit some horrific crime?

But none of these things take place.

**WARNING. FILM CONTAINS NO FODDER FOR SPOILERS.**

Instead, the major event in the movie is that the mother and son befriend a neighbor, an elderly woman who is alone in the world, and form their own family unit.

This film has won critical acclaim and has been praised for its integrity of vision, subtlety, and refusal to depict a troubled slum in a negative or sensationalistic manner as other films have done.

Indeed, whether the slum is in Hong Kong's New Territories or in inner-city Baltimore, films that are set in the ghetto usually follow one of two main trajectories:

1) nihilistic hell-on-earth story in which crime, violence, and drugs prevail and all hope goes out the window.

2) quiet dignity of individuals despite the odds socially-conscious story - these films are usually about community activists or young people who find a way out of the ghetto and often contain brief snippets of 1) nihilistic hell-on-earth to contrast and heighten their protagonist's dignity.


THE WAY WE ARE definitely falls into the second category.

But what's noteworthy is that unlike other movies of this type that are made elsewhere, THE WAY WE ARE categorically refuses to point the finger of blame for the plight of its protagonists at any social or government institutions, individuals, or even deities.

The two protagonists are not angry at anything. They don't fault any of the usual suspects, namely the school system, the government, the housing estate, gangs, drugs, the media, their relatives, friends, one another...

It seems as if the two main characters have no problems whatsoever. And the only complaint the mother ever voices is that the newspaper stand guy was mean and didn't give her the free pack of tissues that the convenience store guy gives. I don't know what to make of this lack of finger-pointing. I simply found it to be unique.

Also as an outsider, I found great interest in the film's numerous depictions of the minutiae of daily life, and the film worked for me also on the level of anthropology. But above all, the film struck a chord in me by being so very different from other Hong Kong movies.

On top of all that, seeing the elderly third character in the film deal with her loneliness made me pick up the phone and give my parents a call.

If that's not a testament to the power of cinema, I don't know what is.

First Interview in Cantonese

Here is my first live interview in Hong Kong carried out in my broken Cantonese. I know my tones are bad, and I'm butchering the Cantonese.

But it will get better.

After all, I'm not giving up and the Wa is a beautiful language.

Enjoy!

The subject is Mrs. Siu who runs the drycleaners at Wah Fu Estate.

Chased Out of Wah Fu

I try hard not to succumb to the dark side and simply use this blog to vent the usual frustrations that stem from a displaced existence in Hong Kong. I understand HK is its own place with its own culture and to fault it for not being something else is about as useful as faulting a dog for not being a cat.

That said, I still need to gripe a bit. About what?

I bring my camcorder to the wet market today, thinking innocently that maybe I can tape some footage or maybe even interview some people in my limited Cantonese.

But, when I get there, the moment I take out my camera and fiddle around with the buttons, two shopkeepers descend on me, demanding to know who I am and what I am doing and what I have taped. I have not yet pointed the camera at a single soul or taped anything. (I always ask people for their okay before pointing the camera at them, unless it's just random street footage of crowds.)

I tell them that I've taped nothing, and then in my stilted Cantonese, provide an explanation for myself--I'm a Korean person studying Cantonese. I want to take some shots to show my friends Hong Kong life and culture.

This doesn't fly. Finally, the question-and-answer turns into a mini argument, with me repeating I have taken no video and even offering to let them examine the camera and the tape so that they can see for themselves.

Eventually, the scene peters out. The two shopkeepers mosey away and I'm left standing there like some lunatic foreigner, which I guess I am.

Then, another shopkeeper, a calmer one who's witnessed the blow-up, calls me over to lecture me (though in a calm and gentle manner) in Cantonese about the dangers of taking videos at wet markets. She says the others are afraid that I might be someone sent by the newspapers or the government. (And what if I was? What's there to hide? After all, the wet market at Wah Fu looks like every other one in Hong Kong. What am I not seeing?) She then tells me the other shopkeers might even call the police so I better be careful.

I know there are people everywhere who are wary of strangers taking photos or videos of them, and I can't do that good a job of explaining myself in Cantonese to assuage people's suspicions. But what would prompt anyone to go through the trouble of calling the police because someone was taking pictures?

Sure, in NY, after 9-11, the city banned photo-taking in the subway system and people taking photos of trains, bridges and such were nabbed and questioned. But, taking videos of vegetable stalls?

I understand the above incident is an isolated one and most likely can best be explained as being the result of chance that put two nosey and meddlesome people in my path.

Be that as it may, I asked a Chinese student, with whom I do language exchange, about local people seeming to be distrustful of outsiders. He thinks this is because there are many conmen and crooks in Hong Kong and because Chinese people are taught by the family not to trust outsiders. He said that since he was a kid, his grandmother has told him over and over that only the family can be trusted. He then said that this was also because of her experience of having lived through the Japanese Occupation of Hong Kong.

That sort of makes sense, and sort of doesn't. After all, does that mean that Chinese people trusted outsiders and non-family members before the Japanese Occupation? And then only grew distrusting because of the Japanese?

What am I not getting here?

Hong Kong Covered Walkways (another film haiku about Hong Kong)

Maybe it's the air pollution. Maybe it's the unforgiving summer heat. Maybe it's the lack of land. Maybe it's just a ploy to ferry people from one mall to the next. Maybe it's all these things or none of these thing...

For whatever reason, Hong Kong has many covered walkways and other footpaths that connect one building to the next.

I'm ambivalent about such walkways. On the one hand, it's nice to be able to walk about. On the other, these walkways are a bit artificial and far removed from actual city life. Walking on them is just not the same as walking through a real neighborhood.

Whatever the case, as an experiment, I set out to see just how far I could get using Hong Kong covered walkways without touching real ground. The walk, which I did on a Monday afternoon just before peak lunch hour, took just under 20 minutes at a rather brisk pace and took me from Western Market in Sheung Wan to the Battery Path in Central.

I think the total distance was about 1.5 miles, but I'm sure that had I gone into the main part of IFC mall, I could have walked around for hours, or maybe even days...

Who needs the Lantau Trail?


A word of caution. The camera shakes a lot, so those of you with sensitive constitutions, please remember your Dramamine.

The accompanying music is The Cure. The idea for the video came from So Jene.

Enjoy!



Here is my itinerary:

START: Western Market...
through Shun Tak Center
then on covered Walkway to...
IFC Mall...
Central Walkway past Exchange Square
then into Chater House
and Alexandra House
and Prince Building
and Standard and Chartered Building
Finally, come out on to Battery Path. FINISH

THE CHASER (2008) a.k.a. Why Godard Was Wrong

See THE CHASER (2008) by Na Hong-jin.

It's December and I'm catching up on my movie watching for the year.

My vote for most entertaining and gripping serial killer thriller of the year goes to THE CHASER (2008), a box-office hit from South Korea that was written and directed by Na Hong-jin.

This film, which runs two hours and played briefly in Hong Kong a few months back, is about the chase to stop a serial killer by the least likely protagonist, a former detective who was kicked out of the force for taking bribes and is now a despicable pimp. This pimp is moved to act after some of his call girls go missing. At first he thinks some lowlife out there is abducting his girls and selling them to another human trafficker. Gradually, it dawns on him that a serial killer is killing them. Meanwhile, in the background, the police are also conducting an investigation to try to catch this killer.

Of course, this description doesn't do the film justice. THE CHASER is the best kind of thriller. In addition to social commentary about various aspects of modern life, it is masterfully-crafted and executed.

What do I mean by this? As is usually the case with the best storytelling, the film places the viewer in the exact place and viewpoint of the protagonist, whose single-minded pursuit of the villain is hampered by the bungling of the very police who banished him from their midst. The film puts the viewer through all the emotions that the protagonist goes through. If you watch this film and do not find it emotionally draining, then it's time to go get a check-up because something is kaputt.

This film has its share of violence and blood, but it is not your conventional whodunnit. The killer, one of the most chilling serial killers in film histroy, is revealed very early on (in the first 20 minutes) to the audience, and soon afterwards, to the police. What follows is what grips the audience. Simply put, THE CHASER is a film that sinks its teeth into the viewer from the start and doesn't let go. It's packed with tension. Were it a book, it'd be the best page-turner. Its depiction of the serial killer is truly chilling.



If you see one movie from those that are mentioned on this blog, then see THE CHASER.

Depicting the journey of a fallen man who comes to grips with pure evil, it is an intelligent film for adults but also wholly accessible and entertaining.


WHY SO MANY KOREAN FILMS?
Am I am not aware of American and European films?

Quite the opposite. I am enamored with films from the French New Wave and the gritty in-your-face films of Pasolini, the subversive films of Fassbinder, and other European filmmakers of the 60s and 70s. Some of my favorite films are American films from the 1970s.

But that's all ancient history.

The fact is, at this point in time, South Korea is where the most interesting and gripping movies are being made. Sure like any other country, they also produce a whole lot of utter junk. But the gems are gems.

In contrast, most movies coming out of the U.S. are, in effect, special effects cartoons made for children and most movies from Europe tend to be dull little things that lack creativity. Someone, I think it might have been Catherine Deneuve, decried the sad state of French films by saying that too many French films went like this: "Jacque sleeps with Marie. Marie sleeps with Paul. Paul sleeps with Genevieve. Then, they all go to a restaurant."

It's sad but true, but it's been almost 10 years since I saw a French film that was truly exciting. England fares better. CHILDREN OF MEN (2006) is proof of this. And don't even get me started on what's happened to the once amazing Hong Kong film industry that's now but a frivolous imitation of itself.

Of course, this is all just an opinion and one that is based on huge generalities. But this view is not an isolated one. Film lovers and festival programmers throughout Europe know Kim Ki-duk, Park Chan-wook, Hong Sang-soo, among others, as well as the amazing output of films coming from South Korea.

As for why South Korea is enjoying this sudden prestige as movie capital of the world, who knows?

In an appearance on the DICK CAVETT SHOW, Godard--in the 1990s at the East Village Kim's Video, where videos were displayed on shelves under names of directors, the hipster clerks there did away with "Godard" and filed his films under "God"--suggested that of all the arts, films were unique in that they were, in effect, made by the public.

According to this reasoning, it is the public who actually guides and shapes what films get produced by supplying their input through the box office. In other words, if many people go watch a piece of junk, this encourages the continued production of junk, and vice-versa.

I don't quite agree with Godard's view on this in that I don't think there is something special about Korean moviegoers. I think it's more likely that it's just luck. A dozen or so very talented people just happened to be born in Korea at around the same time. That's all.

Whatever the case, what makes Korea's emergence as a filmmaking mecca that much more impressive is just how quickly the South Korean film industry has risen up from the ashes. In 1996, I visited a South Korean filmmaker I knew from NYU who had gotten his chance to make his feature film debut for the leading film production company in Korea at the time.

I was shocked to find just how small and amateurish Korean film production at that time was. The scale was so small and the quality of films made was so poor. Indeed, things were so not impressive and so not promising that when the film director offered me an assistant director post for his production, I said no. I just didn't think South Korean films were going anywhere. (Shows how much I know.)

Today, just a little over a decade later, filmmakers in South Korea are making the most interesting and entertaining films in the world.

If you haven't seen THE CHASER. See it. Go and get the DVD somehow. It will be the most entertaining film you see this year.

Review of SWEET RAIN (2008) a.k.a. Is a Movie Star's Goofy Smile Enough to Sustain a Picture?

SWEET RAIN (2008) is a Japanese film directed by Masaya Kakei that was released about a month ago in Hong Kong. It is is about a grim reaper whose job it is to spend a few days leading human subjects to their death. In the course of the movie, he meets three such subjects and the people around them.

Edmund Lee's review in TIME OUT HK is much too generous to this little nothing of a film that plays more like 3 episodes of a dull TV series taped together and passed off as a feature film. In fact, the scenes of Chiba (the protagonist, a Grim Reaper who appears in human form, played by Takeshi Kaneshiro) inadvertently touching mortals with his ungloved hands and seeing them freeze and die temporarily is straight from the short-lived American TV series PUSHING DAISIES.

There is very little story here. And granted Kaneshiro is easy on the eyes, charming, and a movie star, one has to be a super fan of his to find this film enjoyable. Basically, the movie follows his character around as he meets a half dozen people. There's no story purpose and no conflict. Hence, no forward momentum.

Kaneshiro just mugs for the camera and tries to carry the film on what's left of his boyish charm. That may work to a certain extent, but given how overexposed the guy is--(I think China's Film Board recently passed a law that requires that Kaneshiro must appear in every so-called Chinese epic filmed on Chinese soil)--it's a flimsy excuse to justify a feature film.

The TIME OUT HK review also conveniently leaves out the presence of the main character's sidekick, a black lab, with whom Kaneshiro converses telepathically (dog gets subtitles) to provide a lot of exposition. The three separate stories are connected by the thinnest contrivance, but are spaced out over the course of a quarter century.

Basically, this film seems to have been made solely because Kaneshiro agreed to be in it. It is one of the dullest movies that is currently screening in Hong Kong. Why this film was made or distributed is a mystery to me.

By the way, the literal Japanese title is ACCURACY OF DEATH. Neither that nor SWEET RAIN is apt. A far more fitting title is WATCH TAKESHI KANESHIRO SPORT DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLES AS HE SMILES GOOFILY FOR THE Nth TIME.

ROUGH CUT (2008), an excellent movie that needs to come to Hong Kong

I don't mean for this blog to become a tribute site dedicated to the contemporary Korean film director Kim Ki-duk, but this guy truly is a force of nature and the closest thing to a pure cinematic genius I've encountered in my life both among contemporary filmmakers and even among those past greats I've studied through the canon of world cinema. Indeed, I'll state for the record that even a mediocre Kim Ki-duk film is far more engaging and interesting than most other films that are being made on this planet right now.

Why the profuse praise?

I've just seen ROUGH CUT (literal Korean title is "A Movie Is a Movie"), a film released in South Korea in September of this year to resounding box-office success and which will have a very modest release on DVD in the U.S. this month. The film was scripted by Kim Ki-duk and directed by Jang Hoon, who had been an assistant director to Kim.

That Kim Ki-duk has the energy, time, and drive to write scripts in addition to making at least one feature film per year (he has written and directed all 16 of his films) is amazing enough. That he can script such an intense, compelling, and most notably, mainstream narrative film given his already well-known uniquely perverse sensibilities and tastes really blows me away.

This screenplay probably is the most mainstream of all Kim Ki-duk screenplays, and Director Jang Hoon has done a bang-up job of turning it into a substantive thought-provoking gangster picture that's also very entertaining.

The story is about a difficult young movie star who has a short fuse and a propensity to cause problems and scandals. Out of hubris that he really is as tough as the cool characters he plays in movies and due to some personal quandaries, he hires a real gangster to star opposite him in a gangster film. This set up sounds comical, but the film treats it with all seriousness and follows the premise all the way to its conclusion.

One of the film's two leads is the Korean actor (So Ji-sup). He plays the thug and gives a haunting performance. He was in the Korean weepy TV miniseries I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU (2004) and is returning to acting after doing his mandatory military service.

Aesthetically, the film is Director Jang's own and a completely different animal from a film directed by Kim Ki-duk. It features very realistic gloriously-choreographed fight sequences with fast cuts and breathtaking cinematography that's rare in your typical Kim Ki-duk film, which may feature seedy settings and delve at the underbelly of society but rarely shows violence that's entertaining. On the contrary, Kim Ki-duk's violence is brutal and grotesque.

ROUGH CUT, like most mainstream films, makes violence entertaining and cool. The stylized fight sequences are similar to ones in FIGHT CLUB and OLD BOY. So if that's not your thing, this film may not suit you.

But this stylistic difference aside, the story, its themes (one of which is about the very nature of filmmaking itself and which was explored in Kim's earlier experimental film REAL FICTION (2000)), and some moments of super-heightened intensity are clearly in the script and pure Kim Ki-duk flourishes.

For the uninitiated, this film may be a good introduction to a certain kind of gangster genre action film that has been nearly perfected in the past decade by South Korean filmmakers.

That said, given the propensity of Hollywood to buy up foreign box-office hits (these days most often from Asia) and re-make them, often shot for shot, with white American movie stars (eg. THE GRUDGE, THE DEPARTED, THE LAKE HOUSE), it is easy to picture this film being re-made and released a few years from now starring Leonardo DiCaprio and (I can't think of anyone who could play the role of the thug convincingly).

For that to happen though, the ending (rather dark) would have to be tweaked a bit. After all, it is much more acceptable for mainstream films in Korea to have pessimistic, or bittersweet endings than it is in the U.S. I'm not sure what this says, if anything, about the national characters of Koreans and Americans in general, if such a generality can even be made. I just hope that the remake isn't botched or inane as is too often the case.

I have nothing against remakes as long as the remake is inspired and is somehow a different animal (eg. SEVEN SAMURAI becoming THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN). But, an uninspired remake that is done solely to save the audience the "inconvenience" of having to read subtitles or look at foreign faces on screen (eg. INFERNAL AFFAIRS becoming THE DEPARTED) seems utterly stupid, senseless and unwarranted. Such a practice is also ultimately negative because Hollywood's release of a remake and the accompanying marketing campaign require the intentional burying of the original and prevents the original from ever being released theatrically in the U.S. and in much of the rest of the world.

I know that gauging whether a remake of a foreign film is inspired or warranted seems highly subjective. In fact, it is the most subjective. Still, it is my opinion that in order for such a remake to be warranted, the remake should, at the very least, be better than the original.

Many will disagree, but I feel this was the case with THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN, but definitely not so with THE DEPARTED.

Whatever the case, given the sad state of movies and film distribution in general, especially in Hong Kong, this film should hit theaters here in about January.... 2010.

Indeed, one of the saddest things about Hong Kong is that so many films never come here. Sure one can scrounge about and find the DVD, which is what I did and which can be very convenient, but that's never the same as seeing the film on a big screen.

Camel Traders in Causeway Bay a.k.a. Is Haggling Rude?

Maybe it's hubris. Maybe it's a male thing. But I find that many men tend to see themselves as being much more handy, athletic, and ____________________ than they actually are. At least, this is true in my case when it comes to haggling or bargaining over prices.

I can't say I'm a good haggler. I usually manage to pay less than the asking price, but nearly always also end up with the nagging sensation that I didn't quite get the super deal that I thought I did. Still, having to haggle or bargain doesn't fill me with discomfort or anxiety as I've discovered it does some people.

Most recently, I haggled when we bought a computer at the Causeway Bay Fortress, where I went into haggling mode right away and put the salesman to work before discussing prices. (**The psychology of haggling requires that the buyer get the seller to invest a lot of time and effort to make the sale. This way, there is more incentive and reason for the seller to lower the price rather than have all that time and effort lead to nothing. eg. "I showed this #@%**# every feature on this damn computer. This better lead to a sale.")

Maybe it's a cultural thing. In the U.S., people are supposed to haggle for big-ticket items such as cars, but usually not for other things and especially not in chain or mall stores. Consequently, haggling isn't something most Americans get to practice that often. (**How does bargaining work in other countries? Anyone? Anyone?)**

Still, it often startles me how uncomfortable some people are with haggling. Some even say that having to make a low offer after being presented with an asking price (even at blatant tourist traps) makes them feel like they're being rude somehow.

I can see the reasoning behind such a view, but I just can't imagine always paying the asking price. Moreover, I don't think haggling is rude at all. It's just two parties talking things over to come to an agreement. After all, most haggling leads to a sale. In fact, I wouldn't bother to haggle over something that I wasn't seriously interested in buying. Haggling is work, after all.

Anyway, since having more opportunities to haggle is another perk of HK life, I hope that our stay here will help me become a better bargainer. After all, it is a life skill that comes in quite handy.

And as the old saying goes, if you can't be handsome, you better be handy.

Ladyboys of Wah Fu

WARNING: The above photo of yours truly officially becoming the 214,416th person to make an ass of himself at the Peak Mall has nothing to do with the rest of this post. Read on at your own discretion. By the way, I'm not the one in the yellow leotard.


I go about once a day to the wet market at Wah Fu Estate to buy fresh produce and sometimes fish. This is one of the two choices I have to buy groceries within walking distance. The other is to walk in the opposite direction to the International at Cyberport, which is a good supermarket but not very good for produce or fish. Getting to the wet market takes just about 15 minutes at a brisk pace.

In the year so that we've been in the HK, I've been to this wet market quite a bit. It's a very small market meant really for the residents of Wah Fu Estate, so there just aren't that many stalls. The stallkeepers recognize me and we exchange basic pleasantries in Cantonese. I try to use as much Cantonese as I can when I'm there. For instance, I ask in broken Cantonese for free scallions when I buy other produce, should the seller forget to give me this very common bonus.

"Gamyaht dimgaai mouh chong ah?"--Today why no scallions?

Anyway, one of the interesting things about going to this wet market initially was that at certain times of the day, a troupe of 10 or so transvestite performers from Thailand would descend en masse to do their grocery shopping and delight the stallkeepers and other shoppers. They were shopping, but always had their make-up and hair done and were in character. One couldn't help but enjoy the show.

I did a little research. It turns out there is a movie theater in Wah Fu Estate that is no longer in business, at least not for movies. Instead, some enterprising impresario has rounded up these Thai ladyboys to perform elaborate lip-synch performances of Mandarin and Cantonese pop songs. Busloads of Mandarin tourists come on the sly to catch these "unlicensed" performances.

I was curious and went to the theater about a month ago to see how one could go about catching a show. The place was closed, but there was some Chinese writing on the wall. I have no idea what it said, and didn't get to see the show.

It's been a while since I've seen these flamboyant ladyboys sashaying through the wet market. I wonder if their show has ended. I can't help but wonder if the lagging economy or some annoying but all-too-common HK bureaucratic legal issue is somehow responsible for their sudden disappearance from Wah Fu.

The Big Three That Once Was a.k.a. Dreaming of Cadillacs

I've written about cars in previous posts, but it seems timely to write more about my experience with American cars now that the Big Three American car companies, Ford, Chrysler, and GM, are on the brink of collapse and begging for the U.S. government to keep them afloat.

My wife and I, like most Americans, have been driving since we were 17 or so. Getting one's license and driving is truly a rite of passage in the U.S.

(Digression: What counterparts do HK teenagers have to look forward to as they creep towards adulthood? What such rite of passage do they get? Most don't even get to go away to university and many live at home until well into their 20s and 30s...Poor kids. I hope they get to at least smoke or drink a bit.)

Since I was a kid, I was a believer of American cars. I don't know what made me this way. But if I have to pinpoint something, it probably was a belief that was handed down from my parents, who have always bought and still only buy American cars. When I was a kid, the best and most impressive car that anyone we knew drove was a Cadillac. Back then, especially among my parents' friends and their circle of Korean immigrants, a Cadillac was a crucial component of the American Dream.

My parents never really got that Cadillac, but the view that American cars were top-notch was instilled in me firmly.

Anyway, after university, in our first years of grown-up life, So Jene and I schlepped around in a used Plymouth Laser that was handed down to her. It was a small hatchback with its share of dings and dents. Still, it suited us fine for a while until the transmission gave out at just around 70,000 miles and we were forced to ditch the car.

After that, we bought a new Saturn and drove that around for six years and a little more than 100,000 miles. During that time, so many things went wrong with it that shouldn't have that it undid my programming and preference for American cars.

What's more, every mechanic I took it to, said the same thing: "American cars are junk. They're the only cars we work on nowadays."

Even the Saturn mechanic shared this sentiment.

Sure these guys could have been exaggerating. And sure my experience could have been an anomaly, and sure there are lots of other possibilities and explanations... (After all, they could all have been on the Toyota payroll!!!)

But, the experience soured me on American cars.

So, when it came time to buy the next car, I bought a cheap little almost-20-year-old Toyota Corolla for $700 cash. It was a drastic move. But at that time, I was the only one using the car, and I figured all I needed was basic transportation.

This little Toyota, which didn't look like much--but then, neither had the Saturn-- ran better than the Saturn, which had the absolute worst turning radius, and was overall, a better car.

Ditto for the used 20-year-old Volvo and the 25-year-old Mercedes that followed. These used cars, which cost very little, were built and designed so much better than the GM Saturn. And they were far far more durable.

In fact, the Mercedes, which was the last car we had in the U.S. before we moved to Hong Kong, had 280,000 miles and was still running strong.

If an American car lasts 100,000 miles, you've had a good run.

Having said all that, I'm not saying whether the Big Three should be bailed out or not. That's a different question.

All I'm saying is cars made by these companies have proven themselves to be junk, and these companies have burned American consumers for a long long time now.

So, if a bailout is granted, it'll be for the now distant memory of the once grand American automobile industy, and absolutely not for any love that anyone has for the cheap inferior cars that these companies have been dumping on consumers for far too long.

I end this rather serious and depressing post with a completely unrelated random photo of yours truly outside the main Sumo center in Tokyo. Enjoy!

"Cantonese Has Many Slangs" and other myths about learning the Wa

I've been studying Cantonese off and on for about six months now and can piece together basic sentences with my vocabulary of about 2000 or so words. I'm at a very basic level.

Here are some of my observations about learning Cantonese in HK.

Whenever local HK Chinese find out I'm learning Cantonese, they usually seem to have this notion that I'm basically wasting my time because what I'm trying to do is, to them, ultimately futile. Here are the ususal explanations I get about why it's so difficult, virtually impossible, for foreigners to learn Cantonese:


1) "Cantonese has many slangs."
It astounds me how, for some reason, Cantonese speakers seem to think their language has a monopoly on slang. Sure Cantonese has tons of colorful, creative and playful slang expressions, but then again, what language doesn't?

I'm using proper English right now, but were I in a different situation with different company, I'd switch to using more street expressions, you dig?

More importantly, I'm not trying to learn all the latest cool slang expressions. That may come much later. For now, I'm practicing basic communication. One can learn English without learning every bit of slang out there. Ditto for Cantonese, right?

I mentioned the above to So Jene, and she said that maybe the HK locals aren't talking about slang expressions, but that they might be referring to Cantonese having a formal version and an informal version. Interpreted thusly, HK locals might be saying that the Cantonese that is usually taught in books and to foreigners is a formal textbook version which is different from the actual Cantonese that is used. I sort of doubt that this is what people mean when they say "Cantonese has many slangs" because Cantonese does have many slang expressions. But who knows?


2) "Cantonese has no grammar."
I'm not sure just how this bit of misinformation got its foothold. But in my study of the language, it's clear that Cantonese has a very logical and straightforward grammar. Sure there are some exceptions to certain grammatical rules, but the syntax that holds words together to form sentences is there, clear as day.

Yet, over and over, people say Cantonese has no grammar. The only sense I can make of this claim is that they may be talking about verb conjugation? Cantonese verbs change very little to show tense, and often do not change at all if context provides enough clues about tense. But this feature seems to me to make the language easier, not more difficult. Basically, this seems clear-cut. Cantones does indeed have grammar.


3) "Learn Mandarin. Cantonese is not useful."
This argument slides into the political realm. But the claim that Cantonese is not useful is one that can be gauged only by the individual. To some Cantonese is useful. To others it's not.

Indeed, if I were learning the language to work with Mandarin-speakers down the road, Mandarin would be more useful. But, this is not the case. I am learning Cantonese because living in HK is a good opportunity to learn another language, and the language most local HK people speak is Cantonese (despite how much English there is). At the present, Mandarin has no use for me. The language I need is Cantonese.


3b) "Learn Mandarin. Cantonese is dying out."
This is a corollary of #3. Usually I get this from Mandarin speaking Chinese or Cantonese-speakers who're down on HK. It's their view that heretic Cantonese-speakers will eventually realize the error of their ways and revert back to the national language, or that Cantonese-speakers will be driven by economic incentives or too apathetic to resist the encroachment of Mandarin.

That may happen, but I also know that spoken languages, especially ones that provide a sense of personal and political identity, are damn hard to put down, especially through government policy. People are stubborn.

For instance, Japan tried to wipe out Korean and impose the Japanese language as the official language during its 30 years+ occupation of Korea. Learning Japanese carried with it economic benefits and social mobility. Using Korean was penalized and formal education was carried out in Japanese. Despite this, the Korean language survived and thrived. Cantonese will be around a lot longer than many people think no matter how omnipotent the Chinese government seems to be.


**Basically, these are the top four reactions I get from HK Chinese about learning Cantonese, and my responses. That said, I'm not saying that learning Cantonese is easy. It's not, especially for English speakers. Cantonese is indeed not easy to learn, but I've found that the bulk of that difficulty stems from the following:

a) lack of good study material - (there are tons for Mandarin, very few for Cantonese.)

b) prevalence of English in HK. - Too easy to revert back to English and too easy to not use or practice Cantonese unless you make an effort to use Cantonese.

c) general busy culture of HK - Most people are too busy to stop and take the time to speak with you. People usually are too busy, busy, busy. There's definitely very little slacker culture here. That's just how it is.


NOW FOR THE FLIP SIDE

I turn now to those on the other side of the language divide.

Many non-HK people who cannot speak Cantonese but have lived in HK for a long time usually tend to have many reasons for why they haven't learned the language. Some have no interest. Some don't want to take classes. This is all fine and dandy as I don't think language acquisition is a duty or a requirement. Just so that we're clear. I don't fault anyone for not learning anything. God knows there are so many things out there I haven't learned.

But there are some who inevitably point the finger of blame at the local culture and people for their own failing to learn Cantonese. Their argument usually goes like this:

"It's not my fault that I haven't learned Cantonese despite living here x years. The local people all speak English to me. If I had lived in France for the same x years, I'd be fluent in French by now."

The fallacy of the above claim lies in the fact that language acquisition doesn't happen through osmosis but requires active effort, no matter what the environment. Of course, children may seem to pick up languages effortlessly, but they too make active effort through schoolwork and lots of repeated informal conversation practice.

The truth is, one can live in any foreign locale and never learn the language no matter how long that person lives there whether or not the native people engage him or her in the native tongue. Such cooperation may make the learning easier, but learning a new language requires time and effort. It's ridiculous to think a person would somehow acquire a language without making the effort.

The fact is, if a person doesn't need to or has very little interest in learning a new language, he or she simply won't.

This is true of Cantonese, French, Russian... The biggest factors in learning a language seem to be personal motivation and time investment.

There are plenty of people who come to HK from other places and manage to learn Cantonese despite all the obstacles and lack of encouragement. There are plenty more who do not. And that's fine.

But let's just be honest about the why.

Anyway, that's my two bits for the day.


On a less academic note and since I've already mentioned Japanese occupation in this post, So Jene and I spent Saturday afternoon in Lamma and stumbled on the tunnels that the Japanese military had dug during WWII. What fun!!!

I'll post a photo of the Japanese caves later.

Also, I shot around for the first time in a long time Sunday afternoon at Southorn Playground in Wanchai after my Cantonese class. It felt good to be on a basketball court, dribbling and shooting. My ankle felt good and strong. It didn't swell up much at all afterwards though it still looks pretty damn disgusting.

I need to start getting back in shape to play ball again on a more regular basis.