VIFF 2016: Index

This is an index of my writing on the 2016 Vancouver International Film Festival.

Introduction and Proposed Schedule – Sept 20, 2016
Toni Erdmann – Oct 4, 2016
Never Eat Alone and The Last Poems Trilogy – Oct 4, 2016
Maudite Poutine and Pop Song – Oct 4, 2016
Crosscurrent – Oct 4, 2016
Yellowing – Oct 5, 2016
Things to Come – Oct 15, 2016
After the Storm – Oct 15, 2016
Hermia and Helena – Oct 15, 2016
VIFF 2016 Rankings


VIFF 2016: Introduction and Proposed Schedule

I’ll be back at the Vancouver International Film Festival this year, and we’re planning extensive coverage over at Seattle Screen Scene. This year’s lineup looks like it might be the best since 2012, packed with promising European titles, the best selection of Asian films on the North American festival circuit and a renewed emphasis on cutting-edge Canadian cinema. All of my reviews this year are going to be over at SSS, but I’ll have an additional index of them over here, and I figured this would be a more appropriate home for my proposed schedule.

These are the films I’m hoping to see. Showings that conflict with each other are listed without a space in-between, with the film I’m leaning toward attending listed first.

Continue reading


SIFF 2016 Index

This is an Index of my coverage of the 2016 Seattle International Film Festival. All the writing was at Seattle Screen Scene.


Report #1: Sunset Song, Concerto: A Beethoven Journey, A Scandal in Paris, A Bride for Rip Van Winkle, Love & Friendship
Report #2: The Big Road, The Island Funeral, Heaven Can Wait, The Final Master, My Beloved Bodyguard
Report #3: The Bitter Stems, Thithi, Trivisa, The Mobfathers, Tag


The Frances Farmer Show #6: SIFF 2016 Preview, The Long Day Closes and Tokyo Sonata
The Frances Farmer Show #7: SIFF 2016 Midpoint Report
The Frances Farmer Show #8: SIFF 2016 Wrap-Up


Week One
Week Two
Week Three and Beyond

VIFF 2015: Hou Hsiao-hsien’s The Assassin

If you wanted to design to film perfectly and specifically for me, it would probably be something like The Assassin. A film by my favorite contemporary filmmaker, one from whom I spent months earlier this year studying and writing about in detail for a theatrical retrospective, working in one of my favorite film genres, the one I’ve spent the better part of the last three years exploring. There was simply no way this wasn’t going to be a movie I liked. But since whether a critic likes a film or not is easily the least interesting aspect of any decent review, thankfully that task is quickly disposed with and we can proceed to more interesting concerns, the what and why of the film. Hou Hsiao-hsien’s latest, his first film since 2007’s Flight of the Red Balloon, is set in the late Tang Dynasty period, starring Shu Qi as a young woman who returns home after ten years as a killer-in-training to wreak vengeance on the local ruler. The film follows a typical wuxia plot structure, with motivations gradually revealed and complicated, schemes exposed, punctuated by regularly occurring fight sequence set-pieces. But Hou has adapted that structure to his own unique rhythm, presenting a languid, patient narrative of long takes exploring lush sets and landscapes. It’s the stillest action movie there’s ever been.
In tone the closest analogue in Hou’s previous work might be Millennium Mambo, a hypnotic film that could seemingly spin on forever. Right up until the director’s credit came on screen, I kept expecting another hour of narrative. I had no idea how much time was passing, or what the shape of the story was, until it ended. This is one of the distinct pleasures of some of Hou’s best work, from The Time to Live, The Time to Die to Goodbye South Goodbye to Flight of the Red Balloon. Looked at in total, however, the plot could easily be that of a late 70s Chor Yuen film (but not at all a Chang Cheh film, for a number of reasons, the gender of the protagonist and the ultimate optimism of the work first among them). It’s just that Hou refuses to match the pace of the film to the complexity of the story. He teases out exposition in long dialogue scenes, but shoots those scenes with such intricate beauty that it’s hard to pay attention to the words being spoken when the pictures are so fascinating. An example: a long, central scene between Chang Chen’s governor (the target of the assassination plot) and his favorite concubine explains much of the Shu Qi character’s past and the volatile tangle of competing interests that lead to his family breaking off Chang’s engagement with Shu in favor of another woman, a humiliation which lead to Shu’s exile. It also demonstrates the bond between Chang and the concubine, which motivates a further complication in the plot, as Chang’s wife has a murderous scheme of her own. But rather than the actors, who form a loving triangle in the center middle distance of the frame and remain mostly still, our eye is drawn to the edges of the frame. The left is dominated by a line of three flames, reflections of candle lights that appear to have no on-screen referent; the right by a curtain that billows in and out throughout the scene, blown by a similarly unsourced wind, shrouding the actors in gauze when it blows in, revealing them in crystal clarity when it blows out. You get so lost in the image, it’s easy to miss the thread of the plot.

But plot there is (this is not, as my pal Neil so tweeted, a film “about a bunch of veils and curtains”). Hou’s films, from The Boys from Fengkuei on, have a distinctly languid place, regardless of how much actually occurs in the narrative. Flowers of Shanghai is an opium dream of a film, one in which there’s almost no dramatic action, a fair amount in dialogue and a torrent of emotional churning under the surface. A City of Sadness is a multi-layered, multi-character historical epic. Millennium Mambo and The Puppetmaster are narrated tales, one about the entropic life of a club girl in modern Taipei, the other a 50 year biopic about a man caught up in the sweep of history. In mood and pace the films are the same, with long single take scenes of apparently mundane and occasionally inexplicable behavior drawing us into the feel of the protagonists’ world, an effect amplified by the highly subjective nature of the narration. That subjectivity is the essential element in all of Hou’s films, as he is ever seeking to capture an individual’s experience of the world, and to inspire a deep empathy in the audience. His films eliminate any sense of moral judgment: whatever bad or dumb things his heroes may do, he doesn’t allow us any distance from them. We are inside them, left to understand their lives as they do. The Assassin is no different in this respect. Its dense plot of maneuvering factions in the present inspired by the secret schemes of the past is revealed slowly, like Flowers almost entirely in dialogue. Our identification with Shu Qi’s hero is established in a new way, however. Rather than linger over lengthy shots of Shu at work or in repose, as in Mambo, we instead observe things as she is observing them. Not strictly from her point of view, but often Hou will show us a long scene of character interaction only to cut at the end to Shu observing silently from some hiding spot (invisibly ninja-style in the rafters, for example). Her motivations remain opaque through the length of the film, right up until the very end we don’t really know what she wants or how she plans to go about achieving it. Of course, when that “Directed By” credit does appear on-screen, everything makes perfect sense.

What she ends up achieving is a bold rejection of the traditional wuxia narrative, the first major development in the genre in decades. This century’s art house wuxia films have all taken the form of homage, usually to King Hu. A mix of spectacular and (more importantly perhaps) spectacularly shot action with a bit of Buddhism and above all a devotion to a code of honor that demands personal unhappiness, films like Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, House of Flying Daggers and The Grandmaster follow the strictly established rules of the genre, which itself is as old as cinema and reaches back through centuries of Chinese literature. For all their technical facility, they remain merely highly polished variations on Hu’s work from the 1970s, while lacking the sense of experimentation that makes films like A Touch of Zen or Legend of the Mountain so unfathomable to this day. There hasn’t really been anything new in the genre since Hu’s titanic pair of of Legend of the Mountain and Raining in the Mountain in 1979. That is, until now (unless you count Tsui Hark’s various variations on the genre, which add to the traditional form outlandish special effects, breath-taking speed and an anarchic wit. At their core, though, they’re still traditional narratives). Obviously in adapting his highly idiosyncratic style to the genre, Hou was bound to come up with something interesting. But I’m surprised at how much he actually bent his career-long aesthetic. In The Assassin, Hou cuts within a scene, he uses different film stocks and aspect ratios (it’s all in the archaic 1.33 ratio (which emphasizes the verticality of traditional Chinese painting, the influence of which is felt strongly in the landscape scenes, aided immeasurably by the natural beauty of China’s landscapes and fortuitous fogs rolling in to mimic the vast negative spaces so distinctive in that art form), like last year’s Horse Money and Jauja, but for two flashback shots, on slightly grainier film stock, which are 1.85, possibly to accommodate the shape of a long musical instrument), he has insert shots, and the camera moves into the frame, all techniques he’d abandoned 30 years ago when he moved from mainstream romantic comedies into art house minimalism. But as the demands of wuxia changed Hou, so did Hou change wuxia. There are fight scenes in The Assassin, but they are quick. Elegant and brief, they are over before the heroes of a Lau Kar-leung film would be even a little bit warmed-up. The de-emphasis on action is vital: Shu Qi is an assassin who rejects assassination, a wuxia knight-errant who rejects the world of violence, the jianghu. She rejects everything that defines a wuxia hero: the whole Confucian edifice of blind obedience to ones master, of defining honor as the strict following of a code that has little to do with morality or even common sense, the reification of abstract concepts over basic human happiness (the film also enacts a recurring opposition in Hou’s work, that of the country and city, as Shu leaves the lushly ornate interiors of imperial life for the rough open skies of the country and an itinerant village existence). The fact that she’s a woman isn’t especially unusual, there have been female warriors in wuxia stories for centuries, and they’ve been consistently represented on-screen. But usually they behave exactly the same as the male characters, while occasionally falling victim to romantic desires as well. Shu avoids the tragic fate of a Zhang Ziyi character by doing something Zhang never could, despite the obvious evils or inhumanity of her various masters. Shu, in explicitly rejecting everything the wuxia ethos stands for, turns the wuxia hero from a tragic figure into a truly inspirational one. She’s the first one I’ve ever seen that actually succeeds in reinventing the world, in making it a more perfect place.

VIFF 2015 Index

This is an index of my coverage of the 2015 Vancouver International Film Festival. Also be sure to check out the coverage we did over at Seattle Screen Scene.


Introduction and Proposed Schedule – Sept. 04, 2015
Preview #1: Office, Police Adjective, The Soong Sisters and A Matter of Interpretation – Sept. 21, 2015
Preview #2: A Big List of VIFF Movies – Sept. 22, 2015
Preview #3: The Mirror and Weekend – Sept. 23, 2015


The George Sanders Show #70: VIFF Report #1 – Sept. 28, 2015
VIFF 2015: The First Four Days – Sept. 29, 2015
The George Sanders Show #71: VIFF Report #2 – Oct. 3, 2015
The Assassin (Hou, 15) – Oct. 9, 2015
VIFF 2015: The Last Five Days – Oct. 11, 2015
The George Sanders Show #72: VIFF Wrapup – Oct 19, 2015

A Ranked List:

1. The Assassin
2. The Forbidden Room
3. Mountains May Depart
4. Arabian Nights Part 2
5. The Thoughts That Once We Had
6. Li Wen at East Lake
7. Kaili Blues
8. A Matter of Interpretation
9. Taxi
10. Murmur of the Hearts
11. Night Without Distance
12. Right Now, Wrong Then
13. Port of Call
14. A Tale of Three Cities
15. 45 Years
16. My Golden Days
17. The Pearl Button
18. Topophilia
19. Arabian Nights Part 3
20. The Treasure
21. Greed; Ghost Light
22. The Exquisite Corpus
23. Dead Slow Ahead
24. Mustang
25. Wonderous Boccaccio
26. Magicarena
27. Paradise
28. What Happened in Past Dragon Year
29. It’s Already Tomorrow in Hong Kong
30. The Dream of Shahrazad
31. Alice in Earnestland
32. Tandem
33. Argentina
34. Love is All

VIFF 2014 Index

This is an index of my coverage of the 2014 Vancouver International Film Festival.


Introduction and Proposed Schedule – Sep 11, 2014


Journey to the West (Tsai Ming-liang, 14) – Sep 25, 2014
The Midnight After (Fruit Chan, 14) – Sep 26, 2014
La Sapienza (Eugène Green, 14) – Sep 30, 2014
The Golden Era (Ann Hui, 14) – Sep 30, 2014
National Gallery (Frederick Wiseman, 14) – Sep 30, 2014
Ballet 422 (Jody Lee Lipes, 14) – Sep 30, 2014
Hill of Freedom (Hong Sangsoo, 14) – Oct 02, 2014
Uncertain Relationships Society (Heiward Mak, 14) – Oct 02, 2014
Miss and the Doctors (Axelle Ropert, 14) – Oct 02, 2014
Listen Up Philip (Alex Ross Perry, 14) – Oct 02, 2014
The Midnight After (Fruit Chan, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Jauja (Lisandro Alonso, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Adieu au langage (Jean-Luc Godard, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Mr. Turner (Mike Leigh, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Two Days, One Night (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Welcome to New York (Abel Ferrara, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Winter Sleep (Nuri Bilge Ceylan, 14) – Oct 07, 2014
Horse Money (Pedro Costa, 14) – Oct 07, 2014


The George Sanders Show #46 – Oct 18, 2014

VIFF 2013 Index

This is an index of my posts relating to the 2013 Vancouver International Film Festival.


Proposed Schedule – Sep 21, 2013
Nobody’s Daughter Haewon (Hong, 13) – Sep 23, 2013
Blind Detective (To, 13) – Sep 26, 2013


The Great Passage (Ishii, 13) & Good Vibrations (Barros D’Sa & Leyburn, 12) – Sep 29, 2013
Gebo and the Shadow (Oliveira, 12) – Sep 30, 2013
Bends (Lau, 13) – Oct 01, 2013
Burn, Release, Explode, the Invincible (Kim, 13) – Oct 01, 2013
Four Ways to Die in My Hometown (Chai, 12) – Oct 02, 2013
Dragons and Tigers Awards – Oct 04, 2013
Stray Dogs (Tsai, 13) – Oct 04, 2013
Yumen (Sniadecki, Xu & Huang, 13) – Oct 23, 2013
La última película (Martin & Peranson, 13) – Feb 28, 2014


They Shot Pictures Ep #21: Festival Recaps Part One – Oct 17, 2013
They Shot Pictures Ep #22: Festival Recaps Part Two – Oct 30, 2013


1. La última película (Raya Martin & Mark Peranson)
2. The Missing Picture (Rithy Panh)
3. A Touch of Sin (Jia Zhangke)
4. Wolf Children (Mamoru Hosada)
5. Our Sunhi (Hong Sangsoo)
6. A Spell to Ward Off the Darkness (Ben Rivers & Ben Russell)
7. Stray Dogs (Tsai Ming-liang)
8. Four Ways to Die in My Hometown (Chai Chunya)
9. Yumen (JP Sniadecki, Xu Ruotao, & Huang Xiang)
10. The Great Passage (Yuya Ishii)
11. Trap Street (Vivian Qu)
12. New World (Park Hoonjung)
13. Distant (Yang Zhengfan)
14. Mahjong (João Rui Guerra da Mata & João Pedro Rodrigues)
15. Anatomy of a Paperclip (Ikeda Akira)
16. Gebo and the Shadow (Manoel de Oliveira)
17. 9 Muses of Star Empire (Lee Harkjoon)
18. Burn Release Explode The Invincible (Kim Soohyun)
19. Redemption (Miguel Gomes)
20. Bends (Flora Lau)
21. 3x3D (Peter Greenaway, Edgar Pera, Jean-Luc Godard)
22. My First Love (Keiko Tsuruoka)
23. Grigris (Mahamat-Saleh Haroun)
24. Good Vibrations (Lisa Barros D’Sa & Glenn Leyburn)
25. Longing for the Rain (Yang Lina)
26. The King’s Body (João Pedro Rodrigues)
27. The Spider’s Lair (Jason Paul Laxamana)
28. Camille Claudel 1915 (Bruno Dumont)
(links are to letterboxd comments)