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Los Angeles Asian Pacific Film Festival 2008: Asian Films
The Asian Pacific films at this year's Visual Communications festival hailed from the Philippines, Malaysia, Japan, Korea, Australia, and elsewhere.
Fuckin' Runaway
dir: Motohashi Keita
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere between city and country, sanity and insanity, Motohashi Keita's Fuckin' Runaway takes a u-turn into the right place. What starts off as a potentially obnoxious film about mental illness becomes a joyous adventure about youth. After all, as the film suggests, the line between insanity and sanity isn't as interesting as the fine line between insanity and simply being young. Hana and Nagoyan escape a mental hospital and take to the road on Nagoyan's father's old "Mercedes." What follows doesn't stray too far from the coming-of-age road movie formula (unlike say Hiroki Ryuichi's Vibrator), but the fact that the film feels fresh throughout is testament to the filmmakers' confidence in the material. The scene in which the slightly-insecure Nagoyan teaches the very-insecure Hana how to drive a car steers clear of preciousness, and the requisite sexual encounter between the two takes a surprising turn for the quirky rather than for the banalities of romance. Actress/model Minami strikes the right look and tone as Hana, though I'd much rather watch her face act than suffer through any more of her hallucinations, which are more Village People than cuckoo's nest. Credit, too, goes to the digital cinematography which has the uncommon mix of 1970s 16mm and 21st century digitality. The result is futuristic flair but also indie sincerity -- quite the opposite of Park Chan-wook's similar I'm a Cyborg, But That's Ok, which flaunts more flash than heart. Then there's the rock soundtrack by Ash, which more than anything else makes clear (and totally normal) that being insane and being young are rhythmically the same experience. --Brian Hu
Flower in the Pocket
dir: Liew Seng Tat
When done right, films about children resonate with audiences. Perhaps it's the sense of nostalgia, innocence, or wonderment, but they always have a universal appeal. Flower in the Pocket is no exception, featuring a pair of poor Chinese boys growing up in Malaysia. The precocious boys, Ma Li Ahn and Mal Ohm, get into all sorts of mischief while their workaholic father, Ah Sui (played stoically by actor/director James Lee), is constantly busy working at a mannequin factory. Despite the neglect (Ah Sui and his boys don't actually interact until the latter half of the film), the boys dote on their father by making dinner for him and putting a blanket on him as he sleeps. It's these subtle details that make the relationships in the film earnestly heartfelt and believable. Despite the film's muted aesthetics and tone, Flower in the Pocket has several laugh-out-loud moments, particularly during the scene where Ah Sui visits his doctor. Lee's poker face accentuates the film's lighthearted moments. The humorous anecdotes that Ah Sui's co-workers share with him balance out the difficulties the boys experience in school. Flower in the Pocket differs from similar films because it doesn't spell out everything for its audience, allowing the simple scenes to shine on their own merit. The idyllic pacing lends the film an endearing natural charm. Even in the absence of any significant developments within the plot, Flower in the Pocket is a genuinely engaging and touching film about the joy and sadness contained in everyday life. --William Hong
The Drummer
dir: Kenneth Bai
Living in your father's shadow is not a pleasant experience, especially if you're Jaycee Fong -- better known to western audiences as Jaycee Chan, the nearly forgotten son of Hong Kong action star, Jackie Chan. In Kenneth Bi's second film, The Drummer, Fong plays Sid, the rebellious son of triad leader Kwan (in a rousing performance from veteran actor Tony "Big Tony" Leung Ka Fai). Sid gets sent off to the mountains of Taiwan after offending another triad leader (Kenneth Tsang) for fooling around with his wife Carmen (Hong Kong pop starlet Yumiko Cheng), saving his head (and fingers). As soon as he steps foot in the mountains with his father's right-hand-man (Roy Cheung, in a very sneaky performance), Sid becomes enamored with the drumming he hears in the hills: a group of Zen Drummers (played by a real life drumming group). And of course, there is a pretty, feisty girl named Hong Dou (Angelica Lee). In true fashion to all mentor/master flicks, Sid finds that drumming is just more than the beat of a drum, that he also has to find the beat of his own heart. Although the plot is indeed an unoriginal "taming of the disciple from the master" story, Fong turns in one of his best performances ever since he appeared in the Twins Effect 2 (with both Twins, to add). With careful choice in film roles, he could become a star. But definitely one that beats to a different tune than his father. --Kanara Ty
Quickie Express
dir: Dimas Djayadiningrat
Just like the title implies, Quickie Express moves at full speed on the strength of its lightning-quick humor and crass irreverence. JoJo (played by Tora Sudiro, who bares a passing resemblance to gigolo acting legend Rob Schneider) has his life turned upside down when he joins an underground gigolo society. He undergoes rigorous and hilarious training alongside two eventual buddies, including a bizarre Bob Marley wannabe. The energetic trio's shenanigans carry the film's more enjoyable first half, powered by humor reminiscent of the Austin Powers series: crude, disgusting, and absurd, but never taking it too far. If you're expecting a lot of penis related humor, you won't be disappointed. One of these penis gags even help move the plot along. Even more reminiscent of Austin Powers is how the film consistently evokes this buoyant 70s vibe, filled with funk, flair, and fun. Unfortunately, the film derails a bit in the second half, introducing Jojo's love interest(s) and a ridiculous amount of tangled drama. The film's love triangle quickly evolves into more creative and unexpected shapes, which Jojo acknowledges and flippantly dismisses by saying "ah, fuck it." Despite the obligatory conflicts introduced, Quickie Express never loses sight of what it truly is: a crass black comedy that thankfully never takes itself too seriously, unlike certain other films in the gigolo comedy genre. Watch out Rob Schneider, the bar has been risen. --William Hong
Tribu
dir: Jim Librian
It's hard to pick out the treasures from a pile of scrappy films aimed at piecing together the experience of living in Philippine poverty. One of these movies, Tribu is not so much a feature film or a documentary, but a weird convergence of reality and performance. The movie takes place in the Manila slums of Tondo, which was literally built on top of a garbage dump. Most of the characters are actually residents of Tondo, and were asked to play some variation of themselves or someone they knew. In the heat and poverty, tension rises between rival gangs where loyalty is rules. While the gangs seem mostly concerned with spitting rhymes on the topic of their hard-knock lives, even crews like Angel Thugz -- which started off as a freestyling crew -- fall into violence. A peek into Tagalog freestyle culture threads together the stories shown through the lens of a young boy who proclaims that, in Tondo, "only the tough survive" and even a kid "can achieve a god-like status." Filmmaker Jim Librian doles out gripping scenes of sexual fervor, drug use, poverty and violence -- knowing that the young boy is your window to it all is disconcerting to say the least. Librian, a native of Tondo himself, seeks to portray the inhabitants as vibrantly hopeful yet desperately trying to take hold of their fates. Tribu is an earnest effort -- though as a rough snapshot it may not be for most audiences. In some aspects, it seems to glamorize the kind of lifestyle it seeks to realistically portray. The storylines are not always clear-cut, and for a good chunk of the movie, Librian's young boy is not utilized enough to unite the various scenes. Tribu's most poignant and pulling aspect is its setting: the depiction of close families who dream to achieve more, friends who are behind you to the death, and the strange twists of fate that seem to chip away at what hope is left for the individuals. --Catherine Manabat
The Home Song Stories
dir: Tony Ayres
The problem for viewers who can't relate to The Home Song Stories' dysfunctional family is that they might feel like caving in under each subsequent tragedy, wondering when the real climax will occur and if it will even be any kind of release. A release from tragedy does come, but it is simplified as an irrelevant and painless happy ending. The film, based on a true story, is about a mother and her children. While writing his memoir, the son, the narrator, assigns himself the task of discovering who his mother was and "why she did what she did." This is the film's question, its engrossing mystery, and the answers implied extract some valuable truths about motherhood, generational-cultural conflicts of immigrants, Western influence on Eastern ideas of beauty, and family trauma. But by the end of the film the son sums up his family's tragedies with this line: "somehow, we both turned out all right." His sister has become a successful psychologist working at a school; he became a writer. This voiceover is the final tragedy: we aren't given an explanation for this foundationless "somehow" and, not having one, the conclusion downplays the applicability of the whole film. Of course it gives the audience a reason not to leave the theater horribly depressed, but its also a betrayal of the unhappy ending of their mother, played by Joan Chen, the real focus and beauty of the film. --Ian Shaikh
Happiness
dir: Hur Jin-ho
What do you get when you take a stubborn misfit and pair him with a demure, potentially dying, young woman? It's not exactly a Korean Walk to Remember, but as director and writer Hur Jin-ho plucks on your heartstrings, it has a similar effect. The main character, Young-su (Hwang Jung-min) starts off as the causeless rebel, drinking and clubbing his life away. But his high life goes down fast when he gets diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver. He goes bankrupt, and all those around him abandon him. He retreats to the countryside to avoid the vices of city life. At the retreat center, he meets Eun-hee (Lim Soo-jung) who is his polar opposite. She lives a slow-paced life, for at any moment, her breath and life could give out. Of course the mismatch rather abruptly softens our heroic rebel and leads to love. It's not clear the Young-su is exactly likeable -- I guess it's supposed to be understood that he can't let go of his old life. As in most movies of the form, the two spend significant time apart, wishing they were with each other but inexplicably unable to repair the mistakes they've made. From a romantic's point-of-view, you wonder if Young-su is purposely destroying their connection so he can avoid being present for the painful end. Then again, you wonder if the writer just failed to make the characters deeper than they appear. In true K-drama fashion, the message is clear by the end: their physical health was somehow controlled by their love's vitality. The movie had a lot of potential and uplifting moments. Yet with its predictable plot and inexplicable character changes, Happiness is a delightful chick flick at best, falling rather short of completing your expectationse. --Catherine Manabat
Recap of films from the Philippines at this year's festival
Previous APA coverage of Asian films at this year's festival:
Date Posted: 5/16/2008