Montages of a Modern Motherhood is replete with scenes of a modern mother's trials and tribulations (Film review)

 

Advertising for three Hong Kong movies (including Montages

of a Modern Motherhood) at Golden Scene Cinema in late 2024 

 

Montages of a Modern Motherhood (Hong Kong, 2024)

- Oliver Chan Siu-kuen, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Hedwig Tam, Lo Chun-yip, Janis Pang, Patra Au, Fung So-po, Tai Bo

 

After viewing her (and yes, Oliver Chan is a woman!) bravura first feature film, Still Human (2018), I've been looking forward to seeing Oliver Chan's follow up cinematic effort and didn't think I'd have to wait seven years to do so.  This especially after she announced in July 2019 that she had a "new project" for the second half of the year -- only for it to be revealed that the "project" in question was a baby!

 

If the first months of her being a new mother had any semblance at all to that of the protagonist of Montages of a Modern Motherhood, it'd help explain why it took so long for her second film to come about however.  Though it's also worth pointing out that this drama about the trials and tribulations of a new mother also did have its world premiere back in October 2024 (at the Busan International Film Festival) and screened at other film festivals in Tokyo, Taiwan and Hong Kong before finally starting its theatrical run in its home city late last month.

 

Based on its fest circuit demand (and its Hong Kong International Film Festival screenings having sold out very quickly), it thus might come as a surprise to learn that the offering has brought in a paltry HK$2.3 million in the first two weeks of its general cinematic release.  But after viewing this 111 minute long work  myself, I understand.  In short: it's a good, well-made film that does deserve an audience -- but it's not an easy watch at all; this not least because the baby in the movie cries A LOT, and loudly too, in it!

 

Despite the efforts of baby Ching's mother, Suk-jing (Hedwig Tam in what looks to have been a very demanding role), the infant is not a happy being.  Was it because she wasn't adequately fed?  If so, it clearly was not for want for trying on the part of the mother -- as Suk-jing tried ever so hard to pump milk out of her breasts and, also, produce the mother's milk she knows is better for babies than the powdered milk that her mother-in-law (Pang Hang-ying) sought to replace it with.   

 

Was it because, as the wise woman (a sympathetic turn from Fung So-po) that Suk-jing enlisted to help her look after Ching, suggested, a baby reflects the feelings of the mother, so that "happy mother, happy baby" -- and thus "unhappy mother, unhappy baby"?  For it is true that there appeared to be very few happy moments in Suk-jing's time as a mother (and thus, also, Montages of a Modern Motherhood itself); with her living situation (as part of a three-generational household along with her husband Wai (played by Lo Chun-yip) and, also, her in-laws) making things worse rather than actually helping -- and her own beloved mother (essayed by Patra Au) living two hours away and thus being less able to help out than either woman would have liked.

 

Oliver Chan has said that Montages of a Modern Motherhood is intended "not only a heartfelt tribute to new mothers but also an effort to help men and families better understand the struggles women face postpartum — fostering greater empathy, support, and involvement".  If so, I think she could have done a better job; not because her film did not sympathetically or adequately show how a new mother can feel unsupported and in need of help -- but because it did so in such a way that it might put everyone -- male as well as female -- viewing it off having any kids of their own! 

 

"Anyone in the late stages of pregnancy might do well to avoid Montages of a Modern Motherhood" began the Hollywood Reporter review of this drama!  And a man walked out midway through the screening that I attended!  That man, I am going to assume, will either never want to a baby in his home after viewing the film -- or, if he already has one was thinking "I've already heard my share of crying babies in my life; I don't need (so much) more while watching a movie!" 

My rating for the film: 7.5

Stranger Eyes is on the strange side! (Film review)

  

Seen on the screen before the final 2025 Hong Kong

International Film Festival screening I attended 

 

Stranger Eyes (Singapore-Taiwan-France-USA, 2024)

- Yeo Siew Hua, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Wu Chien Ho, Lee Kang Sheng, Anicca Panna, Pete Teo

- Part of the HKIFF's Cinephile Paradise program 

 

While the Hong Kong International Film Festival was in progress, two friends and I discussed our fest picks. Upon hearing that Stranger Eyes was among my selections, one of them jokingly asked me, "Are you sure?  Lee Kang Sheng's in it!"  Whereby I pointed out that although he's been in a number of films I've disliked (including Goodbye, Dragon Inn and I Don't Want To Sleep Alone), all of them had been directed by Tsai Ming Liang -- unlike this one!

 

Post viewing this Yeo Siew Hua directorial effort, however, I must say that I get the sense that Tsai Ming Liang is a filmmaker that this work's helmer admires though; and not just because of the Singaporean director-scriptwriter having got Tsai Ming Liang's favourite actor to appear in his movies.  Among other things, the slow and methodical pacing appears to be influenced by Tsai Ming Liang too; and ditto re the film's improvisational style, which lends it a quirkiness and unpredictability that seems rather, if I were to culturally stereotype, un-Singaporean!

 

Despite being a multi-national co-production, Stranger Eyes' setting is entirely in Singapore though.  Also recognisably Singaporean are elements such as the film's focus being on individuals who live in apartments -- one group in a three-generational household, the other in a two-generational one.   

 

Initially, Stranger Eyes centers on the former.  Junyang (played by Wu Chien Ho) and Peiying (portrayed by Annica Panna), their baby and his mother (who comes in the form of the un-grandmotherly appearing Vera Chen) live together in an apartment.  Or, rather, did -- as baby Bo has disappeared.  One moment, she was at a playground with Junyang.  Then, when his attention was focused elsewhere, she seemingly vanished from sight.      

In an apartment in a block facing their apartment live supermarket manager Wu (portrayed by Lee Kang Sheng) and his elderly mother.  Unbeknownst to Junyang and Peiying, their paths have crossed with Wu -- who, it turns out, has been effectively surveilling them at work and from his home; in part because he is fascinated by Peiying, seemingly in part out of boredom and, also, because it's easy enough to do!      

For reasons that never seem to have been made clear, Wu decides to drop off DVDs of recordings of his surveillance "work" at the home of Junyang, Peiying and co.  Whereupon the young couple -- and Officer Zheng (played by Malaysian actor-singer-composer Pete Teo), the cop investigating the disappearance of baby Bo -- get to suspecting that Wu may have kidnapped their young child.  

A strange psychological thriller-drama, not least in that much of the psychological dispositions and quirks of everyone concerned seems to be left to interpretation, Stranger Eyes was most interesting to me in terms of showing the surveillance devices and opportunities to observe others that various people, police but also civilians, neighbours and strangers have at their disposal in today's world.  Videos taken on phones and surveillance cameras are utilized but we also see how, and how much of themselves, people reveal on social media and such.  And how people can stay anonymous in crowds or when in uniform or just carrying out the kind of work and duties so routine that folks barely notice the person doing them.

 

Ironically, even while the people in Stranger Eyes are shown doing things, we actually don't hear them speaking, never mind actually qualitatively conversing, all that much.  So is the message of the movie that we can see but still not understand others around us, including those we live in close proximity to?  Maybe.  For the director -- rather frustratingly to my mind -- appears to have sought to keep his cards close to his chest as well as not wear his heart on his sleeve! 

 

My rating for this film: 6.5

The Woman of Wrath angers more than the eponymous woman seems angry for much of it! (Film review)

The tickets I bought for the 2025 Hong Kong International Film Festival 

 

The Woman of Wrath (Taiwan, 1984)

- Tseng Chuang Hsiang, director

- Starring: Pat Ha, Pai Ying, Chen Shu Fang 

- Part of the HKIFF's Chinese-language Restored Classics program 

 

This 1984 film adaptation of Taiwanse feminist writer Li Ang's The Butcher's Wife is said to be a classic of Taiwanese New Cinema.  I must confess to not knowing about this movie though until I read that a restored version of it would be screened at this year's Hong Kong International Film Festival along with works that I am familiar with and rate highly, including Patrick Tam's My Heart is That Eternal Rose (Hong Kong, 1989) and Johnnie To's PTU (Hong Kong, 2003).

 

Starring two familiar names and faces in Pat Ha (who I've seen and loved in offerings like On the Run (Hong Kong, 1988)) and Pai Ying (who I had seen just one day earlier in The System (Hong Kong, 1979)!), I figured that I'd at least get guaranteed an acting masterclass.  And I think I did; what with these two thespians who I've seen in multiple roles play against type as they took on the roles of a much put upon female and a barbaric lout of a man in The Woman of Wrath!

 

Before they are seen in the film though, the audience is "treated" to scenes that set the tone for this harrowing drama in which rape and the general horrors of living in an unsophisticated patriarchal society prominently figures.  A young girl witnesses her mother, a widow who looked to be starving, allowing a man to have sex with her in return for food.  (Talk about a stark illustration about the "food for sex" theory I learnt about in biological anthropology classes at college!)  Then, when a male relative bursts into the room to confront -- and berate -- rather than rescue her, she decides out of shame -- or is it anger and desperation? -- to violently take her own life.

 

That young girl -- who I could easily imagine having become permanently traumatized by witnessing those scenes -- grows to young adulthood and is played by Pat Ha.  Just in time for Ah Shih, as she is called, to be married -- and sold? -- off by her uncle, whose family she had been living with, to a man living in another village a boat ride away.

 

Chiang Shui (portrayed by Pai Ying) is a butcher.  Literally.  And yes, the audience is shown graphic scenes of him and his fellow butchers at work.  (It's worth noting that The Woman of Wrath was previously shown with eight scenes cut that this restored version reinserts into the work.)  He also is shown visiting a prostitute -- a scene that turns out to be the film's tenderest; what with him treating the prostitute with the kind of humanity, not just affection, that he doesn't for anyone else, including the young woman he took as his wife.

 

Chiang Shui's disregard, dislike even, for Ah Shih looks to have begun on their first night together, when she doesn't respond well to his sexual overtures; not surprisingly given that she appears to not have known anything about sex and had not been ignored and not even given anything to eat in between her entering his home and his deciding to bed her after a big dinner and many drinks with his friends.  He does seem to like very much to make her scream and squeal while they are having sex (that is, when he is raping her), the way that a pig screams and squeals as it is being killed by him and his fellow butchers.  

 

Ironically, Ah Shih's loud screams are interpreted by other villagers as ones of enjoyment during sex and she is castigated as a sex maniac by village gossips.  (More than incidentally, many of the womenfolk in the village also come across as envious of her position as the wife of a butcher since their assumption is that she gets to eat lots of meat, unlike them.) 

 

The terrible treatment of Ah Shih goes on for what can seem like an eternity even though the film is less than 2 hours long.  Ditto the wait to see Ah Shih unleash her thoroughly justified wrath.  The fact of the matter though is that The Woman is Wrath is poorly named.  Honestly, I think The Terribly Abused Woman would have been a better title for this painful watch of a work that, if truth be told, I have zero plans of re-watching ever again!

 

My rating for this film: 5.5   

An American Pastorale is far more American nightmare than dream (Film screening)

TV journalist turned documentary filmmaker Auberi Edler

listening to questions at the post-screening Q&A   

 

An American Pastorale (France, 2024)

- Auberi Edler, director, scriptwriter and cinematographer

- Part of the HKIFF's Documentary Competition program 

 

Back in the 19th century, French diplomat-historian Alexis de Tocqueville published Democracy in America after spending 10 months in the United States of America.  Now in the 21st century, French TV journalist turned documentary filmmaker Auberi Edler spent around that amount of time in a small conservative American town (actually, technically, borough) and has produced An American Pastorale, a documentary that could be said to show how democracy in America dies.

 

In March 2023, a year long electoral campaign began to elect the school board of Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania (as opposed to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, the setting for Cameron Crowe's 2005 romantic comedy, Elizabethtown!).  As Republican and Democrat candidates went from door to door canvasing voters, Auberi Edler's camera was there to follow and record them.

 

Non-interventionist, offering neither narration nor commentary, Auberi Edler quietly captured on camera how a schoolboard election devolves into culture wars whose strands included book censorship, gun control and the undue influence of organized religion (and, in Elizabethtown, one evangelical church in particular) in people's lives and general politics.  In school classrooms, churches, private homes and pretty much elsewhere in between, people of various political stripes -- all of whom are uniformly white in terms of their ethnicity though (note: I've checked and Elizabethtown really does have very few non-white residents) -- are filmed revealing their private as well as public thoughts and in so doing, reveal so much about themselves, their hometown and their country.

 

An American Pastorale had its world premiere -- shortly after the American Presidential Election last year but before Donald Trump returned to the White House -- at the International Documentary Festival Amsterdam (where Auberi Edler came away with the Best Director prize).  At the time of my writing this review, it has yet to be screened in the USA.  (Indeed, it was only a few days ago that the North American distribution rights for it were sold.)  

 

Based on its title, one might have thought that the natural/target audience for this documentary would be Americans.  But an American friend who saw it (here in Hong Kong) told me it had made her cringe and another friend, upon my telling her about the film, told me she didn't think she could stomach viewing it; this particular because she actually personally knew someone from Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania!

 

Despite not being an American myself, I understand.  An American Pastorale is not an easy watch for those who don't like seeing bigotry triumph, thanks in part to how ineffectual, even downright lame and weak, the opposition to far-right white nationalism in Christian clothing was (and is).  Put another way: pretty much everyone seen in this quietly devastating cinema vérité-style documentary -- by a filmmaker who knows very well that, often, it's best to just let a person incriminate themself -- does not come off looking good.  And their country too!

 

Those who know me know that I absolutely hate people talking in cinemas.  But I have to confess: I found myself commenting aloud about, and in response to, certain statements and declarations made, seemingly seriously, by Elizabethtown residents -- and recorded for posterity in the documentary -- that just came across as so crazily asinine!  (As an example, a gun lover talked about the possibility of Hamas going over to attack this rural American community!)      

On a positive note: it's an incredible achievement on the part of Auberi Edler that she managed to get the people in the documentary to seemingly forget that her camera was trained on them, and their every word being recorded.  To be sure, some of them did appear to be performing for the camera -- as well as an audience of their peers -- some of the time.  But more fool them, for thinking that they would be made to look good in this thoroughly thought-provoking work which, actually, lays waste to whatever myths and delusions of grandeur that Americans would ever have about themselves and their country, for the world to see!

 

My rating for this film: 8.5

Yalla Parkour is not your average sports documentary thanks in no small part to it being primarily set in Gaza (Film review)

 Areeb Zuaiter at a post-screening Q&A at the

Hong Kong International Film Festival 

Yalla Parkour (Sweden-Qatar-Saudi Arabia-Palestine, 2024)

- Areeb Zuaiter, director and scriptwriter

- Part of the HKIFF's Documentary Competition program 

In the past year or so, I've viewed a number of films about Palestine and Palestinians -- including The Dupes (1972) at last year's Hong Kong International Film Festival, Five Broken Cameras (2011) at last year's Hong Kong Asian Film Festival, and No Other Land (2024), shortly after it won the Best Documentary Oscar at this year's Academy Awards.  With its focus on parkour enthusiasts, Yalla Parkour might look like it'd be more lightweight than the other works.  But what with the situation in Palestine being what it is, and has been for years and decades now, this documentary offering does end up covering subject matter that is more serious and downbeat than what one would expect a work about an athletic activity to be.  

 

And this all the more so when one throws in the not insignificant matter of its filmmaker, Areeb Zuaiter, being the offspring of exiled Palestinians, one of whom is said to have lost her smile after never being able to see the sea off Palestine again in her lifetime.  Now living in the United States after time spent in Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon and Jordan, Areeb Zuaiter worried that she had lost her connection with Gaza upon the death of her mother before she gets to know Ahmed Matar, a young man whose videos show him and his friends executing parkour moves in various parts of the Gaza Strip.  

 

Communicating via phone and online conversations, Areeb and Ahmed talk about parkour, his friends, his family, the places that he and his friends play in and have converted into their playgrounds (which include a ruined airport, a still intact high rise building, a cemetery, and wall by the sea) and, also, her memories of Gaza and very different life thousands of miles away.  The first video of Ahmed's that Areeb came across on the internet was one that showed young men doing parkour against a backdrop of explosions/bombings.  By the time they first get to talking in 2015, one of the young men, Ahmed tells her, has already left Palestine.  

 

As Yalla Parkour unfolds, we learn that Ahmed aspires to do the same.  Therein lies an irony of this self-reflexive, sometimes wistful and, ultimately, bittersweet documentary: that it is made by a third culture kid who romanticizes her ties to, and memories of, Palestine but whose protagonist is a Palestinian whose videos of him and his friends at play clearly showed and revealed how damaged and ruined much of his homeland already was years before Israel went ahead and pulverized Gaza in retaliation after the events of October 7th, 2023. 

 

It might also be seen as pretty telling that Ahmed's chosen form of play -- one that involves traversing obstacles that come in many forms -- is fraught with very real dangers that can physically hurt and maim, even kill.  Some might see it as showing how cheap life can seem for Palestinians.  Alternatively, one can see Ahmed and his friends' love of parkour as a form of defiance: not just a dicing with death on their own terms but also a determination to overcome fear.  And a seeking of pure joy and genuine sense of accomplishments, not just reckless thrills, against the odds.

 

One of the best things Areeb Zuaitar has done with Yalla Parkour is give Ahmed a voice and platform -- and, also, show him, his friends and his family to be the kind of people who love life, have dreams, care for others and, well, are entirely human.  This may sound like damning the documentary with faint praise.  But in a world where there are folks who don't want to accept that Palestinians are fellow humans who deserve to live, and live freely and with dignity, this is no small accomplishment.    

 

My rating for this film: 7.0

The System strikes me as not just a groundbreaking crime drama but, also, one of Hong Kong cinema's genuine gems (Film review)

Both the Hong Kong International Film Festival 

screenings of The System took place at M+

 

After the screening, The System's director, Peter Yung

(the gentleman on the right) made an appearance

 

The System (Hong Kong, 1979)

- Peter Yung Wai-chuen, director, producer and co-scriptwriter (along with Lee Sai)

- Starring: Pai Ying, Sek Kin, Chiao Chiao

- Part of the HKIFF's Chinese-language Restored Classics program 

 

"There is something special to the Hong Kong New Wave. The movement, spanning just a few short years in the late 1970s and early 1980s, transformed our cinema."  Thus began a Hong Kong Film Archive program introduction about it from 2017.  And to this day, some of the Hong Kong New Wave members -- particularly Ann Hui and Tsui Hark -- remain among the biggest directorial names in Hong Kong/Chinese language cinema.

With just five directorial efforts to his name (compared to Ann Hui's 33 and Tsui Hark's close to 50), Peter Yung Wai-chuen ranks among the less well known of the Hong Kong New Wave.  However, his 1979 debut directorial feature film, The System, is highly regarded by those in the know -- and is one of the Hong Kong New Wave films chosen to be restored in recent years -- with good reason.

 

Even while the Shaw Brothers continued to make movies at their studio in Clearwater Bay studio, favouring shooting in indoor sets, Peter Yung broke free and made incredible use of actual physical locations in Hong Kong that rival and sometimes even were even more colorful and dramatic than anything that could be constructed on a Hong Kong movie budget.  Forty-six years on, the capturing on film of many of those Hong Kong locales -- some of which no longer exist (like the old New World Hotel on the Tsim Sha Tsui harbourfront), others of which have changed beyond recognition (including the neon-lit streets of 1970s Hong Kong) -- alone makes this film quite the visual gem.  But, admirably, there's so much more to The System than that.  

 

Peter Yung had conducted extensive research on the drug trade for an earlier, documentary work and he infused this crime drama centering on a police detective (Chief Inspector Chan is essayed by Pai Ying) trying to nail drug lords (like that played by Nick Lam) with details that provide it with an air of authenticity and enhances his storytelling. From what a cop does after returning home to the planning and execution of the tailing of a suspect, much is shot with authority and visual verve.

 

Adding considerably to the drama and complexity of the film is the main "bad guy", a criminal who Chief Inspector Chan interacts with in various ways -- alternately bullying, cajoling, striking bargains and partnering with to nail down bigger fish.  Tam (portrayed by Sek Kin) is given further dimensions by way of also being shown as a family man and doting father who also has a mistress (Chiao Chiao's character also has parts to play as the head of gambling den and fellow drug trafficker).  

Pei Yin and Sek Kin are of course well known names and faces as far as fans of Hong Kong cinema are concerned.  But their roles in The System may actually have given them more to work with, and more opportunity to shine, than many others.  In any case, they definitely play integral parts in helping this groundbreaking crime drama to be the thoroughly engrossing and entertaining watch that it is; one that left me with the opinion that it deserves to be far well known than it is, and happy that there already are further screenings planned in the coming months in Hong Kong of the restored version of this cinematic gem.

My rating for this film: 9.0

I'm Right Here encourages, and rewards, persistence and doing the right thing (Film review)

  

Hong Kong International Film Festival and other event

literature available at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre

 

I'm Still Here (Brazil, 2024)

- Walter Salles, director

- Starring: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Valentina Herzage, etc. 

- Part of the HKIFF's The Masters program

 

After having viewed a dud of a movie earlier in the day, I returned to the Hong Kong Cultural Centre a few hours later to view a second Hong Kong International Film Festival offering.  With a start time of 9pm, running length of 136 minutes and heavy subject, I hoped that I'm Still Here wouldn't be too hard going.  And so it proved, as Walter Salles delivered a cinematic gem that was thoroughly involving and appealed to my heart, soul and mind.

 

A period drama based on real life events, I'm Still Here is based on the memoirs of Marcelo Rubens Paiva, the only son of Brazilian politician and engineer Rubens Paiva and housewife turned lawyer-activist Eunice Paiva.  Set largely in Rio de Janiero in the early 1970s, when Marcelo was just a boy (played by  Guilherme Silveira for the most part; and Antonio Saboia as an adult), the film opens with scenes of people swimming in the sea and playing volleyball, and generally frolicking, on the sandy beach which the Paiva family home is within walking distance of and looks out to. 

The Paivas are depicted in the early section of I'm Still Here as a happy, loving, upper (middle) class (they employ a housekeeper) family -- comprising a cheery father (Rubens Pavia is played by Selton Mello), mother (Eunice is primarily portrayed by Fernanda Torres and later in the movie by her mother, Fernanda Montenegro) and five children -- whose home teems with life and regularly plays host to friends of the adults and children alike.  But with Brazil being under a military dictatorship (after the 1964 military coup which had sent Rubens Pavia out of congressional office), trouble lurks and the less optimistic among the people, including bookstore-owning friends of the Pavias, go into exile, if they are able to do so.

 

One night, a group of armed men descend on the Pavias' home and take the family patriarch away.  Eunice and the children -- bar for the eldest daughter, Vera (played by Valentina Herszage), who had been sent abroad for a year -- are effectively put under house arrest for a time. Later, Eunice and another older daughter, are taken away for questioning. And while the younger woman is returned home after 24 hours, Eunice ends up spending several harrowing days in a cell where she can hear screams and a room where she's interrogated whose floors are stained with blood.

 

After she is returned home but her husband is not, Eunice mounts a campaign to locate him and find out what's happened to him.  For the sake of her children, the youngest two of whom were still pre-teens, she tries to maintain a general sense as well as facade of normality but the tension, stress and fear is palpable and impossible to wish away.  And yet she determinedly carries on, refusing to rest until she uncovers the truth about what happened to her husband and, also, why.

 

Throughout it all, there's a sense of authenticity to the story and sincerity in its telling.  It's worth noting that director Walter Salles was one of the children who was regularly invited into the Pavia's house in Rio de Janiero, being close friends with the younger members of the family.  And that in Fernanda Torres, I'm Still Here has a lead actress who is absolutely masterful in portraying a woman who tries to mask her feelings, yet whose face periodically -- and heart-breakingly -- betrays her emotions.

 

Based on what I've seen, I'm Still Here rightfully won the Best International Feature Film Oscar this year.  I've not seen all the other films nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and performances nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress.  They must have been absolutely fantastic; otherwise, this movie and its lead actress can count themselves very unfortunate indeed to not also got those awards.

 

My rating for this film: 9.0

Unreachable has a central premise that doesn't give it a ghost of a chance to be a good movie! (Film review)

  

Advertising for the Hong Kong International Film Festival

at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre 

 

Unreachable (Japan, 2025)

- Nobuhiro Doi, director

- Starring: Suzu Hirose. Hana Sugisaki, Kaya Kiyehara 

- Part of the HKIFF's Fantastic Beats program

 

With a 1,734 seating capacity and the largest screen of all of the Hong Kong International Film Festival venues, there is a sense that the films selected to screen at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre are the pick of the fest bunch.  I've had friends tell me that they focus on getting tickets for those fest offerings that play there and, often, this is a good, safe strategy.  But, actually, I've seen my share of duds -- or, at the very least, cinematic efforts that did not work for me, even if they did for some others -- there; including, very memorably in 2009, Tsai Ming Liang's I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, which sent many audience members who didn't walk out to sleep!

 

Very sadly, despite my wishing it was otherwise, Unreachable is another cinematic fail.  To be fair, I didn't notice any walkouts nor anyone falling asleep during its Hong Kong Cultural Centre screening.  But pretty early on, this Japanese film which had its international premiere at the Hong Kong International Film Festival revealed itself to be built on a, frankly, quite unbelievably far fetched premise and require a major suspension of disbelief to work that I was not prepared to grant it.

 

Probably because they realised what a problem its plot holes would pose, the film's publicists had asked reviewers in its home market to not reveal a crucial plot detail that's actually pretty integral.  But since it gets divulged pretty early on in Unreachable, I reckon it's okay to do so -- and, in fact, think it really is the responsible thing to do should anyone be reading this review to decide whether or not they want to pay to go watch this movie! So... *spoiler alert*... okay, abandon hope all ye who read further:   

Misaki (played by Suzu Hirose), Yuka (portrayed by Hana Sugimoto) and Sakura (essayed by Kaya Kiyohara) are former children's choir members who have lived and grown up together ever since... they were murdered by a man who entered their practice room and attacked the members of the choir.  So, while trio behave like fairly regular young adults (dressing fashionably, watching movies on TV, going to work -- in an office in the case of one, and aquarium in another -- or attending classes at university), they are GHOSTS who cannot be seen by humans!  More specifically, the three friends are only visible to one another (since we don't see their adult selves actually interacting with others in the film) and maybe a tortoise!  

 

After this revelation, do I need to really say anything at all about the movie's story?  I wish it was otherwise but it would really be a tall order to care or have one's heartstrings successfully tugged after finding this out, right?  

 

This is such a great pity since I know that Suzu Hirose (who I first saw and became a fan of when watching Hirokazu Koreeda's sublime Our Little Sister) can enchant; and, based on what I saw of them in this movie, her Unreachable co-stars, Hana Sugisaki and Kaya Kiyehara, also are very watchable, and not just because they are easy on the eye too!  Furthermore, these three actresses exhibit lovely chemistry; so much so that I hope that they get chances to work together again, on a better movie with a script that makes far more sense and thus would speak to me!  

Truly, there's a sense of a massive own goal and missed opportunity to make a far better movie here.  Aesthetically and visually, Unreachable is actually quite lovely -- with beautiful set designs (particularly of the spacious house the three young... ghosts live in) and attractive choices of locations as well as a generally good looking cast and crew. (Even the killer is much less, well, unpleasant looking than one might expect.)  I just wish that they all featured in a less hare-brained movie that really could only work if one's being not only super generous and tolerant but, also, prepared to stop thinking... about its silly central conceit! 

My rating for this film: 4.0.

Waves made waves at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

Advertising for the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival

 

Waves (Czech Republic-Slovakia, 2024)

-  Jiří Mádl, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Vojtěch Vodochodský, Ondřej Stupka, Tatiana Pauhofová, Stanislav Majer

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

 

Another day; another Eastern European historical drama set in a time period which many people outside of the film's country of origin know was of major significance for its people, even if not knowing the exact details.  But whereas The New Year That Never Came (Romania, 2024) is set in the last days of a dictator's rule, Waves takes place over a longer period of time; one that saw both liberalisation and a political clamp down taking place.       

 

Jiří Mádl's film begins in 1967, when Czechoslovakia was firmly part of the Eastern Bloc and with hardliner Antonin Novotný as its president.  Repression is the order of the day but over at the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio, however, journalist Milan Weiner (portrayed by Stanislav Majer) is making waves by challenging the norm and seeking to broadcast the uncensored truth.

 

Before anything else, it should be made clear that Milan Wiener was a real life figure, and someone who -- this is not mentioned in the film -- was a survivor of Terezín and Auschwitz.  I think this is worth noting because it helps explain that he was a man who had already seen much horror in his life, and had experience with, as per the title of countryman Václav Havel's famous book, the power of the powerless.

 

Along with Weiner, the other journalists of the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio -- many of whom also were based on real people -- that he headed are presented as courageous individuals with no doubt that what they were doing was right.  And in all honesty, if Waves focused mainly on them, it would have made for a less complex film than that whose main character is a fictional Everyman who ends up working for there too pretty much by accident and, initially, actually against his will.

 

Tomáš (played by Vojtěch Vodochodský) is a technician and elder brother of Pája (essayed by Ondřej Stupka), an idealistic student who idolises Weiner and sought to work for him -- only for Tomáš to get chosen to do so instead!  Left orphaned after the untimely deaths of their parents, Tomáš worries that Pája will be removed from their home by the authorities.  And, in fact, Tomáš just comes across as someone who worries -- rather understandably, actually -- about a lot of things!

 

Tomáš' life gets more complicated after he is asked to leak information about his colleagues to the secret police.  Not doing so might affect his and his brother's living situation.  But doing so involved spying on, and even betraying, his colleagues -- whose work his brother thoroughly approves of and he does come across as actually also agreeing with, and being sympathetic to.  Adding to the moral dilemma that this involves, he gets into a romantic relationship with Věra (essayed by Tatiana Pauhofová), a worldly-wise -- she's returned from a stint in Africa -- colleague of his with a true passion, vocation even, for journalism.

 

Everything comes to a boil when the Warsaw Pact Invasion of Czechoslovakia takes place in 1968. After he learns about the tanks coming to his country and city, Tomáš has to quickly make a fateful decision as to which side he's really on.  And, frankly, even though we know how things turned out then, and over the years and decades, the developments we see unfolding over the course of the movie make for thoroughly engrossing, gripping even, viewing.  

 

To judge from the enthusiastic rounds of clapping it received at the Hong Kong International Film Festival screening I was at, Waves' salute to independent journalism absolutely resonated with the audience I was with -- for good reason!  For the record: while it's common to hear clapping at the end of the fest screening, there were not one but three distinct waves of applause for this film.  Much deserved, really, for a cinematic work that's not only well made but also has messages that are admirable and inspirational.    

 

My rating for the film: 8.5          

The Wind (1928) blew me away upon my viewing it close to a century after its original year of release! (Film review)

  

Images of the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival's

fest ambassador (Angela Leung) and filmmaker in focus (Louis Koo) 

abound in various parts of Hong Kong, particularly fest venues 

 

The Wind (U.S.A., 1928)

- Victor Sjöström, director

- Starring: Lillian Gish, Lars Hason, Montagu Love, Dorothy Cumming, Edward Earle

- Part of the HKIFF's Restored Classics program 

The Restored Classics program is one of my favourites of the Hong Kong International Film Festival.  Last year and the year before, Ernst Lubitsch's Kohlheisel's Daughters (Germany, 1920) and Lady Windermere's Fan (U.S.A., 1925) gave me a greater appreciation of the legendary filmmaker.  And this year, The Wind (U.S.A., 1928) has introduced me to Swedish pioneer filmmaker Victor Sjöström -- and given me an even greater appreciation of actress Lilian Gish, whom, thanks to the Hong Kong International Film Festival, I also got to view in recent years on a big screen in The Night of the Hunter (U.S.A., 1955).

 

The Wind marks the final silent film appearance of an actress who managed to make a successful transition to talkies and have a career that spanned 75 years.  Lillian Gish was in her mid 30s when this 1928 was made but she nonetheless is very convincing as a young, sheltered Southern belle who moves from Virginia to a section of the Wild West that's far windier than she, or most regular folks, can imagine.

 

Impoverished but genteel, Letty (Lillian Gish's character) goes to stay on a ranch with her cousin Beverly (played by Edward Earle) and his family.  Letty considers Beverly, who she refers to as "Bev" and is clearly fond of, to be like a brother.  But Beverly's jealous wife, Cora (essayed by Dorothy Cumming) is convinced that pretty Letty's trying to steal Beverly from her -- and gets even more upset when their three children seem to enjoy Letty's company more than their mother's.

 

Ironically, Beverly looks to be the only man who doesn't have eyes for Letty -- unlike Beverly's closest neighbours, Lige Hightower (portrayed by Lars Hanson) and a man known as Sourdough (played by William Orlamond), both of whom ask for her hand in marriage; and the rascally villain of the pic, cattle buyer Wirt Roddy (played by Montagu Love), who wants to get Letty into bed despite actually already having a wife of his own.  Pressured by Cora to get out from under Beverly's roof and get a man of her own, Letty agrees to marry Lige but their marriage appears doomed after Letty refuses to have it consummated; leaving Lige, who's actually a good man, albeit rough around the edges, feeling very disappointed, embittered even.

 

And then there's the wind.  Which can feel like the closest thing to a co-star in this film for Lillian Gish.  (By the way, The Wind is not a 100% silent film like, say, Yazujiro Ozu's I Was Born, But . . (Japan, 1932) -- in that it may have no dialogue but it sure has sound effects along with a musical score.  And it also has visible wind effects that are pretty strong, impressive and dramatic!)

 

Early on in the film, Letty is informed that the wind -- which can seem like it's being referred to with capital letters (i.e., as The Wind) -- can drive women insane.  And it does threaten to do just that to Letty -- not only because it blows so much dust into the houses and seems to throw it in chunks at the windows but because it howls like crazy, and can also produce cyclones and other strong winds that can rip tiles off roofs and even bring (parts of) structures down!

 

In summary: The wind in The Wind is amazing to behold; and so is Lillian Gish.  Both come across as formidable forces of nature that command the screen; and their performances (okay, "performance" in the case of The Wind) look to have stood the test of time, and definitely play big parts in this 1928 movie still being immensely watchable and entertaining close to 100 years after its original year of release!

 

My rating for this film: 8.0

Valley of the Shadow of Death at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

The principal cast, flanked by the film's co-directors and producer,

on stage at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre 

 

Close up shot of Louisa So and Anthony Wong Chau-sang

 

Valley of the Shadow of Death (Hong Kong, 2024)

- Sen Lam and Antonio Tam (who also wrote the script), co-directors

- Starring: Anthony Wong Chau-sang, Louisa So, George Au

- Part of the HKIFF's Gala Presentations program

 

When a terrible wrong has been inflicted on you or your loved ones, will you be able to forgive the individual(s) who have traumatized you, at least try to do so, or will you vow to "Never forgive, never forget"?  This question lies at the heart of Valley of the Shadow of Death, a psychological drama that revolves around a pious Christian pastor (portrayed by Anthony Wong Chau-sang), his wife (played by Louisa So) and the young man (essayed by George Au) who raped their daughter (portrayed by Sheena Chan).

 

In the opening scene of the film, Pastor Leung is seen at the deathbed of an elderly woman whose grandson is a prisoner, brought to the hospital in chains by prison guards.  After his release from prison, the young man becomes a street sleeper, who cross paths again with Pastor Leung when a charitable female staffer at the pastor's church recognises him as the grandson of a deceased member of their congregation and offers him shelter and a place to sleep at the church.

 

Unbeknownst to the staffer and the young man himself, Pastor Leung had recognised him -- who goes by Ah Lok -- as the rapist of his daughter, who subsequently committed suicide -- something that the priest and his nurse wife have by no means gotten over.  But the man of God doesn't reveal this to Ah Lok, who appears to admire the pastor, wants to learn from him, and aspires to become a fully fledged of Pastor Leung's congregation.

 

Imagine the horror, then, of Ah Lok when he discovers that Pastor Leung is the father of the angelic looking schoolmate that he appears to have genuinely been infatuated by before things went very badly wrong.  Yet he continues to seek the unsmiling priest's help to do such as interpret the Bible and seek forgiveness from God along with that of Pastor Leung and his wife, and willingly endure trials that Pastor Leung tasks him with -- at least one of which is so extreme that one wonders whether the priest is genuinely guiding and helping the supplicant, or torturing him.

 

At the same time, Ah Lok's very presence in his church and life appears to torture Pastor Leung as he finds himself wrestling with strong feelings that come from being an upset father and charitable priest.  With a face and body language that expresses so much silently, Anthony Wong Chau-sang puts in a strong performance that anchors Valley of the Shadow of Death.  And as his wife who, in contrast, is unwavering in her stance throughout, Louisa So is no less impressive in very powerfully communicating her character's anguish and bitterness.

 

With the viewers' sympathies being expected to be more with the parents of a young woman who was raped, then killed herself, than the rapist, great credit must go to George Au for getting the film's viewers to not hate -- or, at the very least, not be revulsed by -- his character.  Conversely, Sheena Chan showed her acting prowess by convincingly playing a character more complex than might be expected, including given that her time on screen is on the limited side.

 

All in all, Valley of the Shadow of Death's strongest suit is its cast.  For without their very watchable performances, my sense is that this pretty heavy and dark drama would have been in grave danger of being way over the top, and the viewers being far less likely to go with the flow and, instead, question certain plot twists and details.  

 

My rating for the film: 7.0     

The New Year That Never Came screened -- against the odds? -- at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

Minutes before the Hong Kong International Film Festival screening

of a (supposedly sold out) screening of The New Year That Never Came 

 

The New Year That Never Came (Romania, 2024) 

- Bogdan Muresanu, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Adrian Vancica, Nicoleta Hancu, Emilia Dobrin, Iulian Postelnicu, Mihai Calin, Andrei Miercure

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

There are films that start off brightly but end up disappointingly.  There also are movies that take awhile to properly get going, but then just keep getting better and better; sometimes because they are ensemble works with a number of characters to get to know and resonate so much more after one starts caring for them, and the situations they find themselves in.  

 

Among the examples of the latter cinematic offerings is that which is my favourite film of all time.  As is The New Year That Never Came.  And it's indeed a tribute to this 2024 Romanian ensemble film that I am comparing it to Peking Opera Blues (Hong Kong, 1986), and favorably too!

 

Set in Bucharest in December 1989, the lives of six different people play out in ways that they could have scarce imagined just a few months, weeks or days before thanks to the end of Nicolae Ceausescu's rule being far closer to taking place than they thought possible.  Of course we who are aware of the history facts and/or were alive when the totalitarian state he presided over fell know this; but rather than making the dramatic proceedings boringly predictable, it actually becomes all the more interesting to see how bad things still were, and how scary they could be, pretty much up until the end for folks from various walks of life.    

 

The New Year That Never Came came out of director-scriptwriter Bogdan Muresanu's The Christmas Gift, a 2018 short film that "evoked a child’s-eye view of political terror via an inadvertent act of protest".  There's a nod in this feature length film to this by way of a child's letter to Santa Claus containing a line about "Uncle Nick" that causes his father, Gelu (portrayed by Adrian Vancica), to comically but also understandably freak out and worry that he will get into big trouble.

 

Gelu also happens to work in a TV studio where trouble brews too for TV show producer Stefan (played by Mihai Calin): professionally, by way of a leading actress in his latest production having suddenly defected and consequently needing to be replaced; and personally by way of his university student son, Laurentiu (essayed by Andrei Miercure), having plans of his own to flee the country. Gelu appears as well in the lives of Margareta (played by Emilia Dobrin), a disenchanted former Communist Party member, and her cop/secret service officer son, Ionut (portrayed Iulian Postelnicu), who appears cool at work but less so in the presence of the two main women in his life: his wife; and, especially, his mother.

 

A working class "nobody", Gelu turns out to be the one of the six characters in focus with the most consequential part to play in The New Year That Never Comes.  But Nicoleta Hancu, the actress playing an actress, it is who has the showiest role; as her Florina wears her heart on her sleeve and is, among other things, the most visibly affected by news of a massacre in another Romanian town that seeps into Bucharest by way of such as Radio Free Europe (hear that, Donald Trump?) and openly upset about having to do things she finds morally disagreeable, even reprehensible.

 

Seeing what the often fearful, upset and unhappy characters face and deal with in their fairly mundane lives makes the end scenes of this historical tragicomedy so very satisfying.  And if you have lived or are living through similar periods of repression in your home territory, they are downright inspirational as well as wonderfully cathartic. 

 

More than by the way, it's worth pointing out that The New Year That Never Came being screened at the Hong Kong International Film Festival this year can seem like a minor miracle.  This all the more so when reports have emerged in recent days that Iranian filmmaker and fest favorite Mohammad Rasoulof's The Seed of the Sacred Fig (France-Germany-Iran, 2024) appears to be the latest film to be banned in Hong Kong. 

My rating for this film: 9.0

A documentary entitled Never Too Late, and another showing his people's freedom came too late for its titular subject to enjoy! (Film reviews)

  

 People in focus (including director Rikki Choy (2nd from left),

producer Miney Ye (3rd from left) and main song singer 

Gigi Leung (on the far right) at Never Too Late's world premiere 

Never Too Late (Hong Kong, 2025)

- Rikki Choy, director

- Part of the HKIFF's Reality Bites program 

 

It used to be that one could look forward to quite a few films having their world premieres at the Hong Kong International Film Festival. This year, however, there are just six of them -- with even its Opening Films (including Chong Keat Aun's Pavane for an Infant) having had their world premieres elsewhere some months ago.  Still, I did catch at least one of them: Never Too Late; a fairly modest and very local documentary produced by Phoenix TV, whose major star power came by way of the song that plays as the end credits roll being performed by singer-actress Gigi Leung.

 

Never Too Late appears to be the feature film directorial debut of Rikki Choy -- and there are aspects of the work that one can't help but think would be handled better by someone with more experience and expertise.  At the same time though, its subject, Hong Kong's natural world and its biodiversity, is something she is familiar with (and looks to have a passion for), having been one of the directors of Phoenix TV’s Hong Kong Nature Stories documentary series.  And ditto re it being something that all of the four individuals whose stories are told in this feature length documentary care very much for in their own way.

 

Human Ip is an artist-poet who has become a farmer and lives in Lai Chi Wo.  Hidy Yu is a model with a love for the sea, who broke up with her partner because she was repulsed by his love for spearfishing.  Fun Hon-shing enjoys what he refers to as "wellness photography" in the wilds of Hong Kong (and is the director of a short film I viewed some time back on the Life (Cycle) of the Hong Kong Newt).  And then there's Anthony Choy, a property agent who likes observing, sketching and painting birds, flowers and many other natural subjects.

Commendably, Never Too Late doesn't shy away from showing such as the contradiction of Anthony Choy's working for a company whose projects could be said to intrude into, and even destroy, some natural habitats and Human Ip being in conflict with some of her neighbors in Lai Chi Wo over their perception and treatment of the feral cows that she loves but others find to be a big nuisance.  We also see that getting too close to nature can result in human pain and animal death.      

In fact, Never Too Late is actually less upbeat overall than its title might imply!  And is less, for want of a better word, propaganda-like than one might expect, given it having the support of official, including government, organizations. It additionally presents a more complex picture than may seem to be the case at first glance; with there being certain social undercurrents that aren't explicitly commented upon -- or are mentioned or alluded to only in passing -- yet are evidently there if you know where to look for them.  

 

In some ways, this mirrors one's experiences with the natural world in Hong Kong: in that, it's actually more pervasive and around you than many may realize; yet it does take a bit of digging, change of perspective and/or wandering and veering off the beaten path, in order to see of it!  Also, no, it's not perfect -- the natural world, Hong Kong itself and the film -- but, all in all, its existence still is worth appreciating. 

 

My rating for this film: 7.0

Ernest Cole: Lost and Found (U.S.A.-France, 2024)

- Raoul Peck, director-scriptwriter-producer

- LaKeith Stanfield, voice cast

 

There are two filmmakers who I know served as their countries' Minister of Cultures for a time.  They also happen to be filmmakers whose films I've been bowled over by.  I considered South Korea's Lee Chang-dong's Peppermint Candy (1999) and Oasis (2002) to be masterpieces.  I feel the same way about Haiti's Raoul Peck's Lumumba (2000) and I Am Not Your Negro (2016).  Thus it was that Raoul Peck being the director of Ernest Cole: Lost and Found was what got me determined to watch this documentary work; not my having any prior knowledge of its subject.  

The story of South African photographer Ernest Cole is one I found moving.  A pioneering black photographer who was born in 1940, he lived through Apartheid and documented it; then moved to New York City to try to escape from it, only to encounter difficulties there, lose his way and, eventually, lose his life -- sadly before Apartheid came to an end, so he never saw Nelson Mandela and his country free.

 

Ernest Cole: Lost and Found has interview footage of its titular character.  But we actually see far more of his photographs than his visage in the documentary.  Black and white photographs that show a cruelly segregated world; one where the whites were privileged and thoroughly aware of it, and the blacks oppressed in ways that look designed to break the spirit as well as hearts.

 

Ernest Cole left South Africa in 1966.  Having secreted his photographs of South Africa under Apartheid with him, he was able to publish House of Bondage: A South African Black Man Exposes in His Own Pictures and Words the Bitter Life of His Homeland Today.  Sadly, to judge by what I saw in the film, he never really was able to produce as good work outside of his home country as he did in it.  It seems that some of his work was lost; as was he.   

 

Perhaps not coincidentally, it feels like Ernest Cole: Lost and Found also lost its way somewhat midway through.  I consequently found the latter half of the film to not be as compelling as the first half.  Even the bombshell revelation late in the documentary that a collection of 60,000 negatives was found at a bank vault in Stockholm in 2017 and given to his heirs leaves more questions, and feelings of dissatisfaction than any sense of joy or relief.  

I must say though that the end dedication to people in exile everywhere emotionally impacted me quite a bit though -- as it got me thinking of exiled Hongkongers who left because they didn't feel they could be safe in their home city and/or chaffed at the injustice that exists in it, yet left their heart here even while they moved thousands of miles to try to make a new life in a different continent.

 

My rating for this film: 6.0