Fist of Fury 精武门 英语影评
Fist of Fury 精武门 英语影评
Bruce Lee might have a faithful and ever-growing fan base, but reviews of his films often veer between amateurish fanatical sycophancy to professional, ignorant disdain. Awful video releases of dirty prints with ludicrous dubbing of clumsily translated dialogue hardly help. With the immaculate DVD release, complete with English subtitles based on the spoken Cantonese, it is now possible to offer a fairer assessment of this striking movie. Bruce Lee plays a martial arts student who returns to his former school to find that his beloved teacher has been murdered. Set in Shanghai in the 1930s, the Japanese are in control, and it is one of their Bushido schools that is responsible for this outrage. Knowing that the authorities will not attempt to bring justice to the killers, Lee seeks to restore honour to his institute and mentor with fearsome revenge. In making this film, Lee tapped into a powerful sentiment that the normally undemonstrative Chinese audiences of the time stood up and applauded. The tag of 'Sick Man of Asia' was used in the 30s by the Japanese Imperialist forces to describe the subjugated Chinese, and in this movie, Lee exacts a visceral vengeance of mesmerising power. There is an awkward romantic sub-plot and the script and direction can, at times, be a little crude, but the screen presence of Bruce Lee is undeniably strong. His fluidity in Kung Fu is amazing to watch, and he compresses the rage of a tormented culture into a physical art of retribution that promotes this film into a league of Asian classics.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
The Bank Job 银行抢劫案 英语影评
The Bank Job 银行抢劫案 英语影评
The Bank Job 银行抢劫案 英语影评 A new British film has arrived on the shores of America, one that I give you “leave” to like. It is good, but not great. The Bank Job, set in the 1970s with its funky garb and anti-everything music, is the perfect backdrop. The villains dig and tunnel beneath the streets of London just as the “free” message of the 1970s tunneled through the clothes, minds, and hearts of young people the world over. This film sports a fine cast, but someone on the team, however, could have been a little more inventive with the title — perhaps something like “Tunnel Vision.” But there won’t be a “do over” for this title. It runs one hour 55 minutes and is rated a strong R for sex, violence, and language. The subject of the film is a based on the true story of a well-known 1971 London heist. It is therefore an expected thriller in every sense of the word about a heist gone right. A charming spy, Tim Everett, played by Richard Lintern, orchestrates the way. Martine Love, played by Saffron Burrows, gets caught in airport customs carrying cocaine. Everett approaches her with a deal. Her drug charges will go away if she helps to get some photos from a safe deposit box before they are leaked to the public. The only catch is that it will take a bank robbery to accomplish the deed. Enter the great British heist. The Brits pull out all the stops. They must retrieve the photos and keep the connection between espionage and the heist completely separate. No one must know the two are tied. They use female spies and counter-spies to get the job done — this is somewhat fleshed out in the film but confusing at the same time. Martine chooses to team up with old flame, Terry Leather, delivered with aplomb by Jason Statham. Terry runs a wannabe upscale auto repair shop that is in hock up to its rear view mirror, and gets constant visits from window- and leg-breakers because he owes his backers money. Terry involves his family and closest friends in his bank robbery scheme even though he has no knowledge of what is coming his way through Martine and British spies. Only the prospect of jewels and countless cash looms large. He does not know he is really being tapped to secure the contents of box 118. She knows but keeps it from him. And when he puts the two together, sparks fly. Director Roger Donaldson articulates the minutiae involved in planning, preparation, and execution of the heist. This is the meat of the film and also the choicest cut. The person behind the photos is one Michael X. The person in the photos is one Princess Margaret. The audience does not learn much about the real Michael X, except that he lives in London part-time and is a biracial black activist from Trinidad who allegedly takes nude photos of Princess Margaret while she is on holiday. The good news is that The Bank Job has only a few flaws that could be overcome easily: It resorts at times to low-wattage thrills based on torture, threats, and violence. Since it is a high-stakes story about saving face for the royal family that means that it is really all about the photos. And I think more time and explanation should have been available about the man who took them in the first place. This is the weakest link in the film — the lesser characters are nearly left out or left on the film editor’s desk. For example, I wanted to understand the motivation of Michael X and his black activist circle of friends. It begs the question: How did he arrive on British radar as a national threat before he took the photos? Instead, the director focuses on sidelines about infidelity and past grudges. So when we learn everyone’s (true) fate at the end we are not really moved. That is the barometer which is the rubric of any great film — did it transport and move me on an emotional level? Here the movie reminded me a lot of American Gangster. In fact, I found the two “true” tales a weird mélange, with the same critique I had for American Gangster — not enough about main threads and too much about the distractions of third parties. The Bank Job is a shorter film, which could have benefitted with another ten minutes filling in some blanks. It does not quite rise to the cinematic level of Michael Clayton and does not have the big budget of American Gangster. It could be overlooked at Oscar time, but I think it is worth a look.
The Bank Job 银行抢劫案 英语影评 A new British film has arrived on the shores of America, one that I give you “leave” to like. It is good, but not great. The Bank Job, set in the 1970s with its funky garb and anti-everything music, is the perfect backdrop. The villains dig and tunnel beneath the streets of London just as the “free” message of the 1970s tunneled through the clothes, minds, and hearts of young people the world over. This film sports a fine cast, but someone on the team, however, could have been a little more inventive with the title — perhaps something like “Tunnel Vision.” But there won’t be a “do over” for this title. It runs one hour 55 minutes and is rated a strong R for sex, violence, and language. The subject of the film is a based on the true story of a well-known 1971 London heist. It is therefore an expected thriller in every sense of the word about a heist gone right. A charming spy, Tim Everett, played by Richard Lintern, orchestrates the way. Martine Love, played by Saffron Burrows, gets caught in airport customs carrying cocaine. Everett approaches her with a deal. Her drug charges will go away if she helps to get some photos from a safe deposit box before they are leaked to the public. The only catch is that it will take a bank robbery to accomplish the deed. Enter the great British heist. The Brits pull out all the stops. They must retrieve the photos and keep the connection between espionage and the heist completely separate. No one must know the two are tied. They use female spies and counter-spies to get the job done — this is somewhat fleshed out in the film but confusing at the same time. Martine chooses to team up with old flame, Terry Leather, delivered with aplomb by Jason Statham. Terry runs a wannabe upscale auto repair shop that is in hock up to its rear view mirror, and gets constant visits from window- and leg-breakers because he owes his backers money. Terry involves his family and closest friends in his bank robbery scheme even though he has no knowledge of what is coming his way through Martine and British spies. Only the prospect of jewels and countless cash looms large. He does not know he is really being tapped to secure the contents of box 118. She knows but keeps it from him. And when he puts the two together, sparks fly. Director Roger Donaldson articulates the minutiae involved in planning, preparation, and execution of the heist. This is the meat of the film and also the choicest cut. The person behind the photos is one Michael X. The person in the photos is one Princess Margaret. The audience does not learn much about the real Michael X, except that he lives in London part-time and is a biracial black activist from Trinidad who allegedly takes nude photos of Princess Margaret while she is on holiday. The good news is that The Bank Job has only a few flaws that could be overcome easily: It resorts at times to low-wattage thrills based on torture, threats, and violence. Since it is a high-stakes story about saving face for the royal family that means that it is really all about the photos. And I think more time and explanation should have been available about the man who took them in the first place. This is the weakest link in the film — the lesser characters are nearly left out or left on the film editor’s desk. For example, I wanted to understand the motivation of Michael X and his black activist circle of friends. It begs the question: How did he arrive on British radar as a national threat before he took the photos? Instead, the director focuses on sidelines about infidelity and past grudges. So when we learn everyone’s (true) fate at the end we are not really moved. That is the barometer which is the rubric of any great film — did it transport and move me on an emotional level? Here the movie reminded me a lot of American Gangster. In fact, I found the two “true” tales a weird mélange, with the same critique I had for American Gangster — not enough about main threads and too much about the distractions of third parties. The Bank Job is a shorter film, which could have benefitted with another ten minutes filling in some blanks. It does not quite rise to the cinematic level of Michael Clayton and does not have the big budget of American Gangster. It could be overlooked at Oscar time, but I think it is worth a look.
The Secret of the Magic Gourd宝葫芦的秘密英语影评
The Secret of the Magic Gourd宝葫芦的秘密英语影评
The Secret of the Magic Gourd 宝葫芦的秘密 英语影评 The poster you see is for a Walt Disney production that might not come to a theater near you, unless you live in a Chinese language country. The Secret of the Magic Gourd bears distinction as being the first animated film produced by the House of Mouse outside of Hollywood. Currently playing in mainland China, the film has earned about one million dollars, chump change by Hollywood standards, but big box office in China. Disney has plans for creating characters for the Chinese market along with the traditional Disney characters, along with the usual merchandising plans. The Secret of the Magic Gourd is based on a popular children’s story about a boy and a magical vegetable. While the film is scheduled to play in Hong Kong and Singapore, there are no plans at this time to dub the film into English for either theatrical or home video release.
The Secret of the Magic Gourd 宝葫芦的秘密 英语影评 The poster you see is for a Walt Disney production that might not come to a theater near you, unless you live in a Chinese language country. The Secret of the Magic Gourd bears distinction as being the first animated film produced by the House of Mouse outside of Hollywood. Currently playing in mainland China, the film has earned about one million dollars, chump change by Hollywood standards, but big box office in China. Disney has plans for creating characters for the Chinese market along with the traditional Disney characters, along with the usual merchandising plans. The Secret of the Magic Gourd is based on a popular children’s story about a boy and a magical vegetable. While the film is scheduled to play in Hong Kong and Singapore, there are no plans at this time to dub the film into English for either theatrical or home video release.
The Promise 无极 英语影评
The Promise 无极 英语影评
The Promise 无极 英语影评 Chen Kaige's latest film, The Promise, is the latest Asian action/adventure film to explore the age-old male preoccupation with honor. Of course, that doesn't mean it doesn't also deal with another age-old obsession for many men: girls. Or maybe I should say: girl. Throughout the entirety of the film there are two females and one is a goddess, so she doesn't really count. The one female in the film, the one that all the guys are fighting over, is Princess Qingcheng, played by Cecilia Cheung, who I can't help but say is distractingly beautiful. Qingcheng was cursed as a child to get all the riches she ever wanted, but to lose any man she fell in love with. As the story unfolds, a slave disguised as a general rescues the princess, then there's a case of mistaken identity, misplaced love, betrayal, and old grudges resurfacing. The film is a fairy tale wrapped up in what is apparently the most expensive Chinese film ever. The pre-release buzz on the film was that it was going to be one of the most beautiful films of the year. Unfortunately, what should be epic landscapes stretching across the big screen instead look more like glorified computer games on a really large monitor. The special effects are shoddy at best and laughable at worst. That's not to say the entire film should be written off in terms of aesthetics. The costume design is wonderfully detailed and some of the landscapes, although typical of an Asian epic, are a joy to behold. What's most sorely lacking is the balletic grace of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, a film this will invariably be compared to. Instead, the battles tear across the screen at a frantic pace. The beauty found in the highflying swordplay typical of wu xia films is undermined by the apparent necessity to show everything from 99 different angles. It doesn't help that you only ever care about one person in the film; and no, it's not the Princess. Like everything else that's beautiful in the film, she ultimately proves to be vapid. The one person with whom we identify and care for is a somewhat minor character and once he's done away with, there aren't very many more reasons to stick around. Kaige's direction is competent, albeit a bit too reliant on computer graphics and outdated ideals. Although I haven't seen his previous films, I'm led to believe he is a talented filmmaker and am curious to see what he's capable of. As a result, I'll probably rent his most famous work, Farewell My Concubine, but I doubt I'll ever be revisiting The Promise. This isn't a horrible film; it's worse in some ways, it's mediocre. Had it just been flat out bad it might've been campy, but the film held some promise (pun intended) and didn't deliver. If this film failed to shine on the big screen, there's no way it'll fare any better on a television set. If you have to see it, see it while it's in theaters; otherwise, don't bother. Your money is better spent elsewhere.
The Promise 无极 英语影评 Chen Kaige's latest film, The Promise, is the latest Asian action/adventure film to explore the age-old male preoccupation with honor. Of course, that doesn't mean it doesn't also deal with another age-old obsession for many men: girls. Or maybe I should say: girl. Throughout the entirety of the film there are two females and one is a goddess, so she doesn't really count. The one female in the film, the one that all the guys are fighting over, is Princess Qingcheng, played by Cecilia Cheung, who I can't help but say is distractingly beautiful. Qingcheng was cursed as a child to get all the riches she ever wanted, but to lose any man she fell in love with. As the story unfolds, a slave disguised as a general rescues the princess, then there's a case of mistaken identity, misplaced love, betrayal, and old grudges resurfacing. The film is a fairy tale wrapped up in what is apparently the most expensive Chinese film ever. The pre-release buzz on the film was that it was going to be one of the most beautiful films of the year. Unfortunately, what should be epic landscapes stretching across the big screen instead look more like glorified computer games on a really large monitor. The special effects are shoddy at best and laughable at worst. That's not to say the entire film should be written off in terms of aesthetics. The costume design is wonderfully detailed and some of the landscapes, although typical of an Asian epic, are a joy to behold. What's most sorely lacking is the balletic grace of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, a film this will invariably be compared to. Instead, the battles tear across the screen at a frantic pace. The beauty found in the highflying swordplay typical of wu xia films is undermined by the apparent necessity to show everything from 99 different angles. It doesn't help that you only ever care about one person in the film; and no, it's not the Princess. Like everything else that's beautiful in the film, she ultimately proves to be vapid. The one person with whom we identify and care for is a somewhat minor character and once he's done away with, there aren't very many more reasons to stick around. Kaige's direction is competent, albeit a bit too reliant on computer graphics and outdated ideals. Although I haven't seen his previous films, I'm led to believe he is a talented filmmaker and am curious to see what he's capable of. As a result, I'll probably rent his most famous work, Farewell My Concubine, but I doubt I'll ever be revisiting The Promise. This isn't a horrible film; it's worse in some ways, it's mediocre. Had it just been flat out bad it might've been campy, but the film held some promise (pun intended) and didn't deliver. If this film failed to shine on the big screen, there's no way it'll fare any better on a television set. If you have to see it, see it while it's in theaters; otherwise, don't bother. Your money is better spent elsewhere.
An Empress and The Warriors江山美人英语影评
An Empress and The Warriors江山美人英语影评
An Empress and The Warriors 江山美人 英语影评
Bucking the trend toward grungier, more psychological Chinese costumers -- repped most recently by "The Warlords" -- vet Hong Kong action director Ching Siu-tung evokes an earlier, less complicated production age with the fast-moving crowdpleaser "An Empress and the Warriors." China-shot yarn about a young warrior empress and the two beaux in her life recalls Hong Kong action dramas of the early '90s (plus nods to classic Shaw Bros. pics) in its straight-arrow escapism and disdain for anything deeper. Set for pan-Asian release this spring, star-driven big-budgeter should notch up a comfortable body count and segue smoothly to ancillary in the West.
Set during the Warring States period some two millennia ago, but hardly troubled by any historical exactitude, the story opens as the Kingdom of Yan is battling for survival against its rival, the Zhao (roughly the same setting as in Andy Lau starrer "A Battle of Wits"). Yan general Muyong Xuehu (Donnie Yen) defeats the Zhao, but at the last minute the Yan monarch is murdered by his nasty nephew, Wu Ba (Guo Xiaodong).
Muyong is declared successor, much to the chagrin of Wu Ba and the other generals, especially as Muyong is only a "bastard orphan." To avoid civil war, Muyong nominates as successor the late king's only child, daughter Yan Fei'er (Kelly Chen), with whom he's been secretly in love for some time.
A striking-eyed singer-actress who's mostly known for contempo dramas and romantic comedies ("Infernal Affairs," "Tokyo Raiders"), Chen surprisingly steps up to the plate here as a young woman thrown into a male world. Adopting a severe look, and clad in knockout military duds by production designer Yee Chung-man, she holds her own in the warfare training scenes with vet action star Yen and has a commanding presence that evokes old-time Mandarin actresses such as Ivy Ling Po.
Good, old-fashioned romance enters the picture when Fei'er is wounded by an assassin and saved by the handsome Duan Lanquan (heartthrob Leon Lai), a forest hermit who's invented a hot air-powered flying machine. Love blooms, Fei'er eventually returns to save her kingdom, and Muyong puts his feelings for her on hold to join the fray.
Between the gutsy warfare, political shenanigans and (literal) romantic flights of fancy, pic has no downtime, driven along by tight editing and Mark Lui's wall-to-wall score. But though not as rushed and breathless as many late '80s/early '90s Hong Kong action costumers and Ching's earlier directing forays, it has no special texture or psychological depth. Pic plays resolutely to average Asian auds, not upscale ones or fest circuiteers. Only in the final reels does the pic finally take on a genuine, over-the-top, tragic grandeur.
Every cent of the reported $16 million budget is on the screen, even if the movie sometimes squanders its visual detail (especially Duan's elaborate forest hideout) in its desire not to bore. Of the two male leads, Yen emerges the stronger, emphasizing character over martial artistry, and, like Chen, gains extra presence from the catchy costuming. Action is grounded and light on wire-fu.
Chinese title is the same as that of the 1959 Shaw Bros. opera classic "The Kingdom and the Beauty," but the two pics are completely unrelated. At Berlin market screening caught, pic was shown in a DV copy but was a finished version.
More than one option
Camera (color, widescreen), Zhao Xiaoding; music, Mark Lui; production designer, Yee Chung-man; art director, Sen Lau; sound (Dolby Digital); special visual effects, Menfond Electronic Art & Computer Design Co.; assistant director, Gary Mak. Reviewed at Berlin Film Festival (market), Feb. 9, 2008. Running time: 99 MIN.
Variety is striving to present the most thorough review database. To report inaccuracies in review credits, please click here. We do not currently list below-the-line credits, although we hope to include them in the future. Please note we may not respond to every suggestion. Your assistance is appreciated.
An Empress and The Warriors 江山美人 英语影评
Bucking the trend toward grungier, more psychological Chinese costumers -- repped most recently by "The Warlords" -- vet Hong Kong action director Ching Siu-tung evokes an earlier, less complicated production age with the fast-moving crowdpleaser "An Empress and the Warriors." China-shot yarn about a young warrior empress and the two beaux in her life recalls Hong Kong action dramas of the early '90s (plus nods to classic Shaw Bros. pics) in its straight-arrow escapism and disdain for anything deeper. Set for pan-Asian release this spring, star-driven big-budgeter should notch up a comfortable body count and segue smoothly to ancillary in the West.
Set during the Warring States period some two millennia ago, but hardly troubled by any historical exactitude, the story opens as the Kingdom of Yan is battling for survival against its rival, the Zhao (roughly the same setting as in Andy Lau starrer "A Battle of Wits"). Yan general Muyong Xuehu (Donnie Yen) defeats the Zhao, but at the last minute the Yan monarch is murdered by his nasty nephew, Wu Ba (Guo Xiaodong).
Muyong is declared successor, much to the chagrin of Wu Ba and the other generals, especially as Muyong is only a "bastard orphan." To avoid civil war, Muyong nominates as successor the late king's only child, daughter Yan Fei'er (Kelly Chen), with whom he's been secretly in love for some time.
A striking-eyed singer-actress who's mostly known for contempo dramas and romantic comedies ("Infernal Affairs," "Tokyo Raiders"), Chen surprisingly steps up to the plate here as a young woman thrown into a male world. Adopting a severe look, and clad in knockout military duds by production designer Yee Chung-man, she holds her own in the warfare training scenes with vet action star Yen and has a commanding presence that evokes old-time Mandarin actresses such as Ivy Ling Po.
Good, old-fashioned romance enters the picture when Fei'er is wounded by an assassin and saved by the handsome Duan Lanquan (heartthrob Leon Lai), a forest hermit who's invented a hot air-powered flying machine. Love blooms, Fei'er eventually returns to save her kingdom, and Muyong puts his feelings for her on hold to join the fray.
Between the gutsy warfare, political shenanigans and (literal) romantic flights of fancy, pic has no downtime, driven along by tight editing and Mark Lui's wall-to-wall score. But though not as rushed and breathless as many late '80s/early '90s Hong Kong action costumers and Ching's earlier directing forays, it has no special texture or psychological depth. Pic plays resolutely to average Asian auds, not upscale ones or fest circuiteers. Only in the final reels does the pic finally take on a genuine, over-the-top, tragic grandeur.
Every cent of the reported $16 million budget is on the screen, even if the movie sometimes squanders its visual detail (especially Duan's elaborate forest hideout) in its desire not to bore. Of the two male leads, Yen emerges the stronger, emphasizing character over martial artistry, and, like Chen, gains extra presence from the catchy costuming. Action is grounded and light on wire-fu.
Chinese title is the same as that of the 1959 Shaw Bros. opera classic "The Kingdom and the Beauty," but the two pics are completely unrelated. At Berlin market screening caught, pic was shown in a DV copy but was a finished version.
More than one option
Camera (color, widescreen), Zhao Xiaoding; music, Mark Lui; production designer, Yee Chung-man; art director, Sen Lau; sound (Dolby Digital); special visual effects, Menfond Electronic Art & Computer Design Co.; assistant director, Gary Mak. Reviewed at Berlin Film Festival (market), Feb. 9, 2008. Running time: 99 MIN.
Variety is striving to present the most thorough review database. To report inaccuracies in review credits, please click here. We do not currently list below-the-line credits, although we hope to include them in the future. Please note we may not respond to every suggestion. Your assistance is appreciated.
The Eye 见鬼 英语影评
The Eye 见鬼 英语影评
The Eye 见鬼 英语影评
Whereas "The Sixth Sense" introduced the term 'see dead people' into the vernacular and "Scary Movie" turned it into a big joke, the 2002 Hong Kong horror flick "The Eye (Jian gui)" gives the saying back its bite. Directed by the Thailand-based Pang brothers ("Bangkok Dangerous"), this ghost story revolves around a blind woman who regains her sight, albeit with the unexpected side effect of 'seeing dead people'. And though the second half does not hold up as well as the first, "The Eye" is still one of the more imaginative and pulse-pounding horror films to come along in recent years.
The main character is Mun (Taiwanese singer-actress Angelica Lee, seen recently in Sylvia Chang's "Princess D"), a young woman who has been blind since the age of two. She undergoes a corneal transplant and is pleased to discover that she can see once again. However, because she has essentially lived her entire life in the dark, her eyes need time to properly focus on distant objects, while her brain must essentially re-learn how to interpret the new flood of visual signals that it receives.
But within a few hours of having the bandages removed, it is clear that something is wrong. Mun begins to see odd shadows in her blurry field of vision that turn out to be the spirits of the recently departed. Of course, nobody believes what she is experiencing is real, including her eye doctor (Edmund Chen) and psychotherapist (Lawrence Chou). Too traumatized by the horrors she has seen and in fear for her life, Mun gradually retreats back into the comfort of darkness...
The build-up in first half is the film's trump card. The directors take advantage of Mun's post-operative near-sightedness to create a genuinely creepy and claustrophobic atmosphere. With the frequent use of shots that convey her point of view, blurry shadows and shapes are seen lurking in the background. And because, as her psychotherapist puts it, she needs to develop her 'visual vocabulary' after having spent almost her entire life in the dark, some of these visual aberrations may merely be the result of her brain's inability to properly interpret everyday events-- thus Mun (and the audience) cannot trust what her eyes are telling her. And as her vision slowly comes into focus, the ghostly apparitions become even more intense and invasive (the elevator scene in particular), and it seems that in a city of seven million people, there is almost a restless spirit lurking around every corner.
Unfortunately, the Pangs have difficulty in maintaining such momentum as the film moves into the latter half and the reason behind Mun's paranormal visions is revealed. It is rather disappointing to see how conventional the film becomes as Mun takes a trip to Thailand to track down the identity of her donor and comes up with a somewhat contrived resolution to her troubles. Thankfully, the directors have one more trick up their sleeve and make up for this sluggish second half with an unforgettable 'big bang' finale-- true, it may start off as being very similar to the 'road accident' scene in "The Sixth Sense", but the Pangs take it in a completely different direction.
As Mun, Angelica Lee delivers a sympathetic and affecting turn as a woman whose initial elation over regaining her sight quickly turns to fear and dread. One of the reasons why "The Eye" works so well as a horror film is because her strong and convincing performance holds the story together and makes it easy for the viewer to suspend all disbelief. On the other hand, the supporting roles come up short, with perfunctory performances that are quickly forgotten. Among these is a brief appearance by Candy Lo ("Time and Tide"), playing Mun's sister, whose raison d'être seems to be little more than a bit of stunt casting.
For those attending the Toronto International Film Festival this year, "The Eye" will be featured as part of the Midnight Madness screenings. However, if you can't make the trip, there's always the recently released Hong Kong-import VCD and multi-region DVD. But regardless of how you see it, "The Eye" is one 'scary movie' that lives up to its promise, especially in the enjoyable yet spine-chilling first half and in the slam-bang big finish. With such a terrific piece of filmmaking under their belts, I'm sure we'll be hearing a whole lot more from the Pang brothers in the very near future.
The Eye 见鬼 英语影评
Whereas "The Sixth Sense" introduced the term 'see dead people' into the vernacular and "Scary Movie" turned it into a big joke, the 2002 Hong Kong horror flick "The Eye (Jian gui)" gives the saying back its bite. Directed by the Thailand-based Pang brothers ("Bangkok Dangerous"), this ghost story revolves around a blind woman who regains her sight, albeit with the unexpected side effect of 'seeing dead people'. And though the second half does not hold up as well as the first, "The Eye" is still one of the more imaginative and pulse-pounding horror films to come along in recent years.
The main character is Mun (Taiwanese singer-actress Angelica Lee, seen recently in Sylvia Chang's "Princess D"), a young woman who has been blind since the age of two. She undergoes a corneal transplant and is pleased to discover that she can see once again. However, because she has essentially lived her entire life in the dark, her eyes need time to properly focus on distant objects, while her brain must essentially re-learn how to interpret the new flood of visual signals that it receives.
But within a few hours of having the bandages removed, it is clear that something is wrong. Mun begins to see odd shadows in her blurry field of vision that turn out to be the spirits of the recently departed. Of course, nobody believes what she is experiencing is real, including her eye doctor (Edmund Chen) and psychotherapist (Lawrence Chou). Too traumatized by the horrors she has seen and in fear for her life, Mun gradually retreats back into the comfort of darkness...
The build-up in first half is the film's trump card. The directors take advantage of Mun's post-operative near-sightedness to create a genuinely creepy and claustrophobic atmosphere. With the frequent use of shots that convey her point of view, blurry shadows and shapes are seen lurking in the background. And because, as her psychotherapist puts it, she needs to develop her 'visual vocabulary' after having spent almost her entire life in the dark, some of these visual aberrations may merely be the result of her brain's inability to properly interpret everyday events-- thus Mun (and the audience) cannot trust what her eyes are telling her. And as her vision slowly comes into focus, the ghostly apparitions become even more intense and invasive (the elevator scene in particular), and it seems that in a city of seven million people, there is almost a restless spirit lurking around every corner.
Unfortunately, the Pangs have difficulty in maintaining such momentum as the film moves into the latter half and the reason behind Mun's paranormal visions is revealed. It is rather disappointing to see how conventional the film becomes as Mun takes a trip to Thailand to track down the identity of her donor and comes up with a somewhat contrived resolution to her troubles. Thankfully, the directors have one more trick up their sleeve and make up for this sluggish second half with an unforgettable 'big bang' finale-- true, it may start off as being very similar to the 'road accident' scene in "The Sixth Sense", but the Pangs take it in a completely different direction.
As Mun, Angelica Lee delivers a sympathetic and affecting turn as a woman whose initial elation over regaining her sight quickly turns to fear and dread. One of the reasons why "The Eye" works so well as a horror film is because her strong and convincing performance holds the story together and makes it easy for the viewer to suspend all disbelief. On the other hand, the supporting roles come up short, with perfunctory performances that are quickly forgotten. Among these is a brief appearance by Candy Lo ("Time and Tide"), playing Mun's sister, whose raison d'être seems to be little more than a bit of stunt casting.
For those attending the Toronto International Film Festival this year, "The Eye" will be featured as part of the Midnight Madness screenings. However, if you can't make the trip, there's always the recently released Hong Kong-import VCD and multi-region DVD. But regardless of how you see it, "The Eye" is one 'scary movie' that lives up to its promise, especially in the enjoyable yet spine-chilling first half and in the slam-bang big finish. With such a terrific piece of filmmaking under their belts, I'm sure we'll be hearing a whole lot more from the Pang brothers in the very near future.
Paranoid Park 迷幻公园 英语影评
Paranoid Park 迷幻公园 英语影评
Paranoid Park 迷幻公园 英语影评
Paranoid Park is a swooping skateboarding free zone where young men learn to fly. It’s also the title of Gus Van Sant’s most recent film, a haunting, voluptuously beautiful portrait of a teenage boy who, after being suddenly caught in midflight, falls to earth. Like most of Mr. Van Sant’s films “Paranoid Park” is about bodies at rest and in motion, and about longing, beauty, youth and death, and as such as much about the artist as his subject. It is a modestly scaled triumph without a false or wasted moment.
One of the most important and critically marginalized American filmmakers working in the commercial mainstream, Mr. Van Sant has traveled from down-and-out independent to Hollywood hire to aesthetic iconoclast, a trajectory that holds its own fascination and mysteries. The Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr has been instrumental in Mr. Van Sant’s recent artistic renaissance — evident in his newfound love of hypnotically long and gliding camera moves — though his tenure in the mainstream has left its mark too, as demonstrated by his rejection of straight narrative. As in three-act, character-driven, commercially honed narrative in which boys will be boys of a certain type and girls will be girls right alongside them.
The boy in “Paranoid Park,” Alex (the newcomer Gabe Nevins), lives and skates in Portland, Ore., where one evening he is implicated in the brutal death of a security guard. In adapting the young-adult novel by Blake Nelson, Mr. Van Sant has retained much of the story — a man dies, Alex writes it all down — but has reshuffled the original’s chain of events to create an elliptical narrative that continually folds back on itself. Shortly after the film opens, you see Alex writing the words Paranoid Park in a notebook, a gesture that appears to set off a flurry of seemingly disconnected visuals — boys leaping through the air in slow motion, clouds racing across the sky in fast — that piece together only later.
With his on-and-off narration and pencil, Alex is effectively shaping this story, but in his own singular voice. (“I’m writing this a little out of order. Sorry. I didn’t do so well in creative writing.”) Although you regularly hear that voice — at times in Alex’s surprisingly childish, unmodulated recitation, at times in dialogue with other characters — you mostly experience it visually, as if you were watching a still-evolving film unwinding in the boy’s head. Mr. Van Sant isn’t simply trying to take us inside another person’s consciousness; he’s also exploring the byways, dead ends, pitfalls and turning points in the geography of conscience, which makes the recurrent image of the skate park — with its perilous ledges, its soaring ramps and fleetingly liberated bodies — extraordinarily powerful.
Mr. Van Sant’s use of different film speeds and jump cuts, and his tendency to underscore his own storytelling — he regularly, almost compulsively repeats certain images and lines — reinforces rather than undermines the story’s realism. With its soft, smudged colors and caressing lighting, “Paranoid Park” looks like a dream — the cinematographers are Christopher Doyle and Rain Kathy Li — but the story is truer than most kitchen-sink dramas. This isn’t the canned realism of the tidy psychological exegesis; this is realism that accepts the mystery and ambiguity of human existence. It is the realism that André Bazin sees in the world of Roberto Rossellini: a world of “pure acts, unimportant in themselves,” that prepare the way “for the sudden dazzling revelation of their meaning.”
The pure acts in “Paranoid Park” mostly involve young male skateboarders gliding and sometimes hurtling through the air. Shot in both grainy Super-8 and velvety 35-millimeter film, these bodies appear alternately grounded and out of this world, reflecting extremes of physical effort while also suggesting different states of being. The Super-8 images of young men rolling along concrete, flipping boards and attitude, have the vaguely battered quality of old home movies, as if someone had just pulled the footage from a drawer. The glossier 35-millimeter images, by contrast, look almost monumental, epic, nowhere more so than when Mr. Van Sant shows one after another skateboarder suspended in the air at the peak of his jump, each a vision of Icarus.
Closer to earth, Alex roams through his world like an alien, a zombie, a prisoner, mostly mute, his features fixed, face blank and impenetrable. He says little, betrays less. His smiles are brief, infrequent. He’s adrift in a sea of near-strangers, including his parents, who are almost as conceptual as those in “Peanuts” (Dad’s tattoos notwithstanding), and his girlfriend (Taylor Momsen), a coltish cheerleader who wants to lose her virginity to him for the sake of convenience. (Mr. Van Sant has rarely been as patient with his female characters as he is with his male ones.) Alex’s single close connection is with his friend Jared (Jake Miller), who brings him to the skate park with the warning “No one’s ever really ready for Paranoid Park.”
Mr. Van Sant has always made a home for lost boys, from River Phoenix’s wanderer in “My Own Private Idaho” to the ghostly Kurt Cobain figure who roams through “Last Days,” those downy, itinerant beauties whose words stick to their tongues and whose pain seems as bottomless as their eyes. In some respects Paranoid Park represents adulthood; the critic Amy Taubin has provocatively suggested to Mr. Van Sant that the film’s subtext is that of a gay initiation. (He didn’t disagree.) Both readings are ripe for the picking. But what strikes me the hardest about “Paranoid Park” is the intimacy, the love — carnal, paternal, human — of Mr. Van Sant’s expansive, embracing vision. No one is ever really ready for Paranoid Park, but neither do you have to go there alone.
Paranoid Park 迷幻公园 英语影评
Paranoid Park is a swooping skateboarding free zone where young men learn to fly. It’s also the title of Gus Van Sant’s most recent film, a haunting, voluptuously beautiful portrait of a teenage boy who, after being suddenly caught in midflight, falls to earth. Like most of Mr. Van Sant’s films “Paranoid Park” is about bodies at rest and in motion, and about longing, beauty, youth and death, and as such as much about the artist as his subject. It is a modestly scaled triumph without a false or wasted moment.
One of the most important and critically marginalized American filmmakers working in the commercial mainstream, Mr. Van Sant has traveled from down-and-out independent to Hollywood hire to aesthetic iconoclast, a trajectory that holds its own fascination and mysteries. The Hungarian filmmaker Bela Tarr has been instrumental in Mr. Van Sant’s recent artistic renaissance — evident in his newfound love of hypnotically long and gliding camera moves — though his tenure in the mainstream has left its mark too, as demonstrated by his rejection of straight narrative. As in three-act, character-driven, commercially honed narrative in which boys will be boys of a certain type and girls will be girls right alongside them.
The boy in “Paranoid Park,” Alex (the newcomer Gabe Nevins), lives and skates in Portland, Ore., where one evening he is implicated in the brutal death of a security guard. In adapting the young-adult novel by Blake Nelson, Mr. Van Sant has retained much of the story — a man dies, Alex writes it all down — but has reshuffled the original’s chain of events to create an elliptical narrative that continually folds back on itself. Shortly after the film opens, you see Alex writing the words Paranoid Park in a notebook, a gesture that appears to set off a flurry of seemingly disconnected visuals — boys leaping through the air in slow motion, clouds racing across the sky in fast — that piece together only later.
With his on-and-off narration and pencil, Alex is effectively shaping this story, but in his own singular voice. (“I’m writing this a little out of order. Sorry. I didn’t do so well in creative writing.”) Although you regularly hear that voice — at times in Alex’s surprisingly childish, unmodulated recitation, at times in dialogue with other characters — you mostly experience it visually, as if you were watching a still-evolving film unwinding in the boy’s head. Mr. Van Sant isn’t simply trying to take us inside another person’s consciousness; he’s also exploring the byways, dead ends, pitfalls and turning points in the geography of conscience, which makes the recurrent image of the skate park — with its perilous ledges, its soaring ramps and fleetingly liberated bodies — extraordinarily powerful.
Mr. Van Sant’s use of different film speeds and jump cuts, and his tendency to underscore his own storytelling — he regularly, almost compulsively repeats certain images and lines — reinforces rather than undermines the story’s realism. With its soft, smudged colors and caressing lighting, “Paranoid Park” looks like a dream — the cinematographers are Christopher Doyle and Rain Kathy Li — but the story is truer than most kitchen-sink dramas. This isn’t the canned realism of the tidy psychological exegesis; this is realism that accepts the mystery and ambiguity of human existence. It is the realism that André Bazin sees in the world of Roberto Rossellini: a world of “pure acts, unimportant in themselves,” that prepare the way “for the sudden dazzling revelation of their meaning.”
The pure acts in “Paranoid Park” mostly involve young male skateboarders gliding and sometimes hurtling through the air. Shot in both grainy Super-8 and velvety 35-millimeter film, these bodies appear alternately grounded and out of this world, reflecting extremes of physical effort while also suggesting different states of being. The Super-8 images of young men rolling along concrete, flipping boards and attitude, have the vaguely battered quality of old home movies, as if someone had just pulled the footage from a drawer. The glossier 35-millimeter images, by contrast, look almost monumental, epic, nowhere more so than when Mr. Van Sant shows one after another skateboarder suspended in the air at the peak of his jump, each a vision of Icarus.
Closer to earth, Alex roams through his world like an alien, a zombie, a prisoner, mostly mute, his features fixed, face blank and impenetrable. He says little, betrays less. His smiles are brief, infrequent. He’s adrift in a sea of near-strangers, including his parents, who are almost as conceptual as those in “Peanuts” (Dad’s tattoos notwithstanding), and his girlfriend (Taylor Momsen), a coltish cheerleader who wants to lose her virginity to him for the sake of convenience. (Mr. Van Sant has rarely been as patient with his female characters as he is with his male ones.) Alex’s single close connection is with his friend Jared (Jake Miller), who brings him to the skate park with the warning “No one’s ever really ready for Paranoid Park.”
Mr. Van Sant has always made a home for lost boys, from River Phoenix’s wanderer in “My Own Private Idaho” to the ghostly Kurt Cobain figure who roams through “Last Days,” those downy, itinerant beauties whose words stick to their tongues and whose pain seems as bottomless as their eyes. In some respects Paranoid Park represents adulthood; the critic Amy Taubin has provocatively suggested to Mr. Van Sant that the film’s subtext is that of a gay initiation. (He didn’t disagree.) Both readings are ripe for the picking. But what strikes me the hardest about “Paranoid Park” is the intimacy, the love — carnal, paternal, human — of Mr. Van Sant’s expansive, embracing vision. No one is ever really ready for Paranoid Park, but neither do you have to go there alone.
The Orphanage 灵异孤儿院 英语影评
The Orphanage 灵异孤儿院 英语影评
The Orphanage 灵异孤儿院 英语影评
“The Orphanage,” a diverting, overwrought ghost story from Spain, relies on basic and durable horror movie techniques. Give a competent director a gliding camera, creepy music and a dim hallway lined with doors, and a decent scare is likely to follow. No matter how many times you have seen similar tricks, the sudden apparition of a child at the end of that hall — especially a child in a weird, anachronistic costume — is likely to make you jump a little in your seat. So when a distraught Laura (Belén Rueda) stumbles down the corridor and comes face to face with a boy whose shorts and knee socks are accessorized by a burlap sack covering his face, you are likely to be nearly as terrified as she is.
Even though “The Orphanage” is Juan Antonio Bayona’s first feature film, there is no doubting his skill. But like his patron Guillermo del Toro (who is both producer and “presenter” of this movie), Mr. Bayona is interested in using the horror genre to explore emotions beyond mere fright. Though there are plenty of sudden jolts and eerie atmospherics, “The Orphanage” is ultimately concerned with grief, remorse and maternal longing.
As a rule, if these emotions are credible, the lapses of logic and plausibility that haunt nearly every exercise in supernatural cinema will melt away. Metaphysical leaps can be forgiven if the underlying melodramatic architecture is sound; this is why no one pushes too hard against the premises of “The Sixth Sense” or “The Others,” two movies whose blending of the creepy with the weepy “The Orphanage” recalls.
Most of the ingredients are present: a sensitive mother (Ms. Rueda); an angelic, endangered child (Roger Príncep); and a spooky house in the middle of nowhere. The child, Simón, has been adopted by Laura and her husband, Carlos (Fernando Cayo), who have the perfectly sensible idea of moving to the orphanage where Laura grew up and turning it into a home for sick children. What could possibly go wrong?
But then Simón starts talking about imaginary friends, in particular one named Tomás, and a sinister old lady shows up claiming to be a social worker. And before you know it, Geraldine Chaplin, the honorary fairy godmother of Spanish cinema, stops by to lead a séance.
I won’t say what she sees, since I don’t want to spoil any surprises. The twists in Sergio G. Sánchez’s script, though fairly conventional in themselves, are deftly executed by Mr. Bayona.
But in spite of his agility, and the sincerity of Ms. Rueda’s performance, “The Orphanage” never quite achieves the intensity it is clearly aiming for. You experience an occasional shudder, but not the deep, resonant unease that makes for a truly memorable nightmare.
The Orphanage 灵异孤儿院 英语影评
“The Orphanage,” a diverting, overwrought ghost story from Spain, relies on basic and durable horror movie techniques. Give a competent director a gliding camera, creepy music and a dim hallway lined with doors, and a decent scare is likely to follow. No matter how many times you have seen similar tricks, the sudden apparition of a child at the end of that hall — especially a child in a weird, anachronistic costume — is likely to make you jump a little in your seat. So when a distraught Laura (Belén Rueda) stumbles down the corridor and comes face to face with a boy whose shorts and knee socks are accessorized by a burlap sack covering his face, you are likely to be nearly as terrified as she is.
Even though “The Orphanage” is Juan Antonio Bayona’s first feature film, there is no doubting his skill. But like his patron Guillermo del Toro (who is both producer and “presenter” of this movie), Mr. Bayona is interested in using the horror genre to explore emotions beyond mere fright. Though there are plenty of sudden jolts and eerie atmospherics, “The Orphanage” is ultimately concerned with grief, remorse and maternal longing.
As a rule, if these emotions are credible, the lapses of logic and plausibility that haunt nearly every exercise in supernatural cinema will melt away. Metaphysical leaps can be forgiven if the underlying melodramatic architecture is sound; this is why no one pushes too hard against the premises of “The Sixth Sense” or “The Others,” two movies whose blending of the creepy with the weepy “The Orphanage” recalls.
Most of the ingredients are present: a sensitive mother (Ms. Rueda); an angelic, endangered child (Roger Príncep); and a spooky house in the middle of nowhere. The child, Simón, has been adopted by Laura and her husband, Carlos (Fernando Cayo), who have the perfectly sensible idea of moving to the orphanage where Laura grew up and turning it into a home for sick children. What could possibly go wrong?
But then Simón starts talking about imaginary friends, in particular one named Tomás, and a sinister old lady shows up claiming to be a social worker. And before you know it, Geraldine Chaplin, the honorary fairy godmother of Spanish cinema, stops by to lead a séance.
I won’t say what she sees, since I don’t want to spoil any surprises. The twists in Sergio G. Sánchez’s script, though fairly conventional in themselves, are deftly executed by Mr. Bayona.
But in spite of his agility, and the sincerity of Ms. Rueda’s performance, “The Orphanage” never quite achieves the intensity it is clearly aiming for. You experience an occasional shudder, but not the deep, resonant unease that makes for a truly memorable nightmare.
10000 B.C. 史前一万年 英语影评
10000 B.C. 史前一万年 英语影评
10000 B.C. 史前一万年 英语影评 “Only time can teach us what is truth and what is legend.” This bit of fake-folk wisdom commences the voice-over narration of “10,000 BC,” and the more you think about it, the more preposterous it seems. If anything, time confuses the issue. But it’s best not to think too hard about anything in this sublimely dunderheaded excursion into human prehistory, directed by Roland Emmerich from a script he wrote with Harald Kloser, who also helped compose, using his better ear, the musical score. Mr. Emmerich has made something of a specialty in staging — with maximal bombast and minimal coherence — end-of-the-world scenarios. (See “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow,” though not on the same day if you can help it.) In the context of his oeuvre “10,000 BC” might be thought of as a kind of prequel, an attempt to imagine human civilization not on the brink of its end, but somewhere near its beginning. Yet even as the story begins, the old ways seem to be dying out, as the Yagahl, a tribe of snuffleupagus hunters who favor extensions in their hair and eschew contractions in their speech, prepare for their last hunt. In fulfillment of an old prophecy, raiders on horseback (“four-legged demons”) arrive to sack the Yagahl encampment and take a bunch of the tribespeople as slaves. Among them is the blue-eyed Evolet (Camilla Belle), whose beloved, D’Leh (Steven Strait), sets out with his mentor, Tic’Tic (Cliff Curtis), to rescue her. Along the way D’Leh and Tic’Tic have many adventures, involving bizarrely costumed humans and computer-generated creatures, among them a scary race of flesh-eating swamp ostriches. These reminded me of nothing so much as the angry chicken, designed by the stop-action maestro Ray Harryhausen, that menaces some castaways in Cy Endfield’s 1961 curio “Mysterious Island.” And at its best — which may also be to say at its worst — “10,000 BC” feels like a throwback to an ancient, if not exactly prehistoric, style of filmmaking. The wooden acting, the bad dialogue, the extravagantly illogical special effects may well, in time, look pleasingly cheap and hokey, at which point the true entertainment value of the film will at last be realized. Meanwhile back in the present, there is an awful lot of high-toned mumbo-jumbo to sit through. On his journey D’Leh (it’s pronounced “delay,” though most of the time he’s in a pretty big hurry) gathers a multicultural army to oppose the pyramid-building, slaveholding empire that has been bothering the more peaceful agrarian and hunter-gatherer tribes. These decadent priests seem like a curious hybrid of the Egyptians in “King of Egypt” and the Maya from “Apocalypto.” To reach them D’Leh travels overland from his home on the Siberian steppes through the jungles of Southeast Asia to the grasslands of Africa. But back then I guess it was all Gondwana, so the trip was easier. Other movies D’Leh (or rather Mr. Emmerich) makes his way through include “The Searchers” and “Ice Age,” though nothing in “10,000 BC” approaches the poetry of the scrambling squirrel and his errant acorn in “Ice Age.” Still, it is a mercy that the tigers and the other creatures don’t talk. It would be more of a mercy if the human characters, especially that narrator, observed similar discretion. But the big, climactic fight, complete with an epic snuffleupagus rampage, is decent action-movie fun. And as a history lesson, “10,000 BC” has its value. It explains just how we came to be the tolerant, peace-loving farmers we are today, and why the pyramids were never finished.
10000 B.C. 史前一万年 英语影评 “Only time can teach us what is truth and what is legend.” This bit of fake-folk wisdom commences the voice-over narration of “10,000 BC,” and the more you think about it, the more preposterous it seems. If anything, time confuses the issue. But it’s best not to think too hard about anything in this sublimely dunderheaded excursion into human prehistory, directed by Roland Emmerich from a script he wrote with Harald Kloser, who also helped compose, using his better ear, the musical score. Mr. Emmerich has made something of a specialty in staging — with maximal bombast and minimal coherence — end-of-the-world scenarios. (See “Independence Day” and “The Day After Tomorrow,” though not on the same day if you can help it.) In the context of his oeuvre “10,000 BC” might be thought of as a kind of prequel, an attempt to imagine human civilization not on the brink of its end, but somewhere near its beginning. Yet even as the story begins, the old ways seem to be dying out, as the Yagahl, a tribe of snuffleupagus hunters who favor extensions in their hair and eschew contractions in their speech, prepare for their last hunt. In fulfillment of an old prophecy, raiders on horseback (“four-legged demons”) arrive to sack the Yagahl encampment and take a bunch of the tribespeople as slaves. Among them is the blue-eyed Evolet (Camilla Belle), whose beloved, D’Leh (Steven Strait), sets out with his mentor, Tic’Tic (Cliff Curtis), to rescue her. Along the way D’Leh and Tic’Tic have many adventures, involving bizarrely costumed humans and computer-generated creatures, among them a scary race of flesh-eating swamp ostriches. These reminded me of nothing so much as the angry chicken, designed by the stop-action maestro Ray Harryhausen, that menaces some castaways in Cy Endfield’s 1961 curio “Mysterious Island.” And at its best — which may also be to say at its worst — “10,000 BC” feels like a throwback to an ancient, if not exactly prehistoric, style of filmmaking. The wooden acting, the bad dialogue, the extravagantly illogical special effects may well, in time, look pleasingly cheap and hokey, at which point the true entertainment value of the film will at last be realized. Meanwhile back in the present, there is an awful lot of high-toned mumbo-jumbo to sit through. On his journey D’Leh (it’s pronounced “delay,” though most of the time he’s in a pretty big hurry) gathers a multicultural army to oppose the pyramid-building, slaveholding empire that has been bothering the more peaceful agrarian and hunter-gatherer tribes. These decadent priests seem like a curious hybrid of the Egyptians in “King of Egypt” and the Maya from “Apocalypto.” To reach them D’Leh travels overland from his home on the Siberian steppes through the jungles of Southeast Asia to the grasslands of Africa. But back then I guess it was all Gondwana, so the trip was easier. Other movies D’Leh (or rather Mr. Emmerich) makes his way through include “The Searchers” and “Ice Age,” though nothing in “10,000 BC” approaches the poetry of the scrambling squirrel and his errant acorn in “Ice Age.” Still, it is a mercy that the tigers and the other creatures don’t talk. It would be more of a mercy if the human characters, especially that narrator, observed similar discretion. But the big, climactic fight, complete with an epic snuffleupagus rampage, is decent action-movie fun. And as a history lesson, “10,000 BC” has its value. It explains just how we came to be the tolerant, peace-loving farmers we are today, and why the pyramids were never finished.
Anna & Anna 安娜与安娜 英语影评
Anna & Anna 安娜与安娜 英语影评
Anna & Anna 安娜与安娜 英语影评 This is perhaps one of the most forgettable movies produced this year. The premise of a doppelganger film always excites – the expectation of one’s own dark side and a highly charged resolution could have been explored. But Anna and Anna does everything (and I mean everything) so poorly, the audience simply laughs and asks, “What was the whole point?” The movie basically revolves around Anna (Karena Lam), who seemingly has everything but is not happy. Taking an opportunity to work in Shanghai, she leaves all behind, including a handsome new age sensitive boyfriend Billy (newcomer Tender Huang). Things in Shanghai take a turn for the worse however when she meets her ‘doppelganger’ Si Yu (also Karena Lam) and her old beau Ouyang (Lu Yi). The exposition was too long drawn. Coupled with a very poor script, the acting and dramatic pauses were nothing short of deplorable. Why were there two-second pauses after EVERY line? It did not serve any dramatic purpose and the sophomoric acting did nothing to help. Things got better the moment Anna arrived in Shanghai. There were attempts at artistic imagery (the visuals of paired objects in the gallery and in Shanghai proper) and some well-intentional artsy shots and culture references. But these were too obvious and never subtle. It seemed like it was being ‘artsy’ just for the sake of being ‘artsy’. It was comic, even painful to watch. It seemed innocent enough, when Anna pines for her ex-boyfriend/depressed pianist and upon meeting her double, decides to switch roles for three days. Here I saw a potential route for the movie to take off from the entire mundane and boring enterprise. The sudden chilling and horror-type music seemed to promise a grand and exciting psychological drama – we may even get blood and some action as the two doppelgangers slug it out mentally and physically. I was even ready to forgive the bad attempt at pseudo-science (the Internet solves all mysteries, really) to explain the ‘phenomenon’. But no. We were never in for such a treat. The movie took a turn, seemingly building up towards a horror/slash flick but ultimately dumping the audiences back to the ghastly drama (or lack thereof) at its climax. The ending, which I was very tempted to disclose here, was a total cop out in all respects. And it made entirely no sense whatsoever. I tried. I really tried to make sense of it, but to no avail. Just what were they thinking? There was never any focus in the film. Perhaps both Anna’s and Ouyang’s characters came close. But there were way too many gaps in their development they came across just short of convincing. The other characters were nothing more then glorified extras. It is noted that these characters had seemingly much potential, but these were just brushed off and never explained. This film is most unfortunate for all involved; especially for rising star Karena Lam. Let us hope this movie does not destroy her career. This film will give critics and audiences a lot to talk about – but it would only revolve around how 95 minutes could have been better well spent.
Anna & Anna 安娜与安娜 英语影评 This is perhaps one of the most forgettable movies produced this year. The premise of a doppelganger film always excites – the expectation of one’s own dark side and a highly charged resolution could have been explored. But Anna and Anna does everything (and I mean everything) so poorly, the audience simply laughs and asks, “What was the whole point?” The movie basically revolves around Anna (Karena Lam), who seemingly has everything but is not happy. Taking an opportunity to work in Shanghai, she leaves all behind, including a handsome new age sensitive boyfriend Billy (newcomer Tender Huang). Things in Shanghai take a turn for the worse however when she meets her ‘doppelganger’ Si Yu (also Karena Lam) and her old beau Ouyang (Lu Yi). The exposition was too long drawn. Coupled with a very poor script, the acting and dramatic pauses were nothing short of deplorable. Why were there two-second pauses after EVERY line? It did not serve any dramatic purpose and the sophomoric acting did nothing to help. Things got better the moment Anna arrived in Shanghai. There were attempts at artistic imagery (the visuals of paired objects in the gallery and in Shanghai proper) and some well-intentional artsy shots and culture references. But these were too obvious and never subtle. It seemed like it was being ‘artsy’ just for the sake of being ‘artsy’. It was comic, even painful to watch. It seemed innocent enough, when Anna pines for her ex-boyfriend/depressed pianist and upon meeting her double, decides to switch roles for three days. Here I saw a potential route for the movie to take off from the entire mundane and boring enterprise. The sudden chilling and horror-type music seemed to promise a grand and exciting psychological drama – we may even get blood and some action as the two doppelgangers slug it out mentally and physically. I was even ready to forgive the bad attempt at pseudo-science (the Internet solves all mysteries, really) to explain the ‘phenomenon’. But no. We were never in for such a treat. The movie took a turn, seemingly building up towards a horror/slash flick but ultimately dumping the audiences back to the ghastly drama (or lack thereof) at its climax. The ending, which I was very tempted to disclose here, was a total cop out in all respects. And it made entirely no sense whatsoever. I tried. I really tried to make sense of it, but to no avail. Just what were they thinking? There was never any focus in the film. Perhaps both Anna’s and Ouyang’s characters came close. But there were way too many gaps in their development they came across just short of convincing. The other characters were nothing more then glorified extras. It is noted that these characters had seemingly much potential, but these were just brushed off and never explained. This film is most unfortunate for all involved; especially for rising star Karena Lam. Let us hope this movie does not destroy her career. This film will give critics and audiences a lot to talk about – but it would only revolve around how 95 minutes could have been better well spent.
Devils on the Doorstep鬼子来了英语影评
Devils on the Doorstep鬼子来了英语影评
Devils on the Doorstep 鬼子来了 英语影评
Wen Jiang has been appearing in Chinese films since 1986 and is probably most familiar from his role opposite Gong Li in Red Sorghum. Since 1994, however, he's also written and directed three feature films, of which Devils On The Doorstep is the second. Although it was a success for Jiang at Cannes, the Chinese Film Bureau was miffed he'd submitted it without their approval and banned it in China and suspended him from making films for two years. Which is ironic after a film so steeped in irony.
Devils On The Doorstep is set in a poor northern China village during the winter of 1944-1945. The area has been occupied by the Japanese since the late 1930s, and the villagers have grown used to the foreign "devils", who take only a certain amount of their harvests and assert their presence with a ubiquitous marching band, repeatedly playing the same tune. Jiang plays the central character, Ma Dasan, who one night is surprised by a gun-toting stranger. He dumps two captive Japanese, bound in sacks, with Dasan, and says he'll be back to collect them in a few days. Should they escape, he warns Dasan, there will be repercussions for the whole village.
Devils on the Doorstep 鬼子来了 英语影评
Wen Jiang has been appearing in Chinese films since 1986 and is probably most familiar from his role opposite Gong Li in Red Sorghum. Since 1994, however, he's also written and directed three feature films, of which Devils On The Doorstep is the second. Although it was a success for Jiang at Cannes, the Chinese Film Bureau was miffed he'd submitted it without their approval and banned it in China and suspended him from making films for two years. Which is ironic after a film so steeped in irony.
Devils On The Doorstep is set in a poor northern China village during the winter of 1944-1945. The area has been occupied by the Japanese since the late 1930s, and the villagers have grown used to the foreign "devils", who take only a certain amount of their harvests and assert their presence with a ubiquitous marching band, repeatedly playing the same tune. Jiang plays the central character, Ma Dasan, who one night is surprised by a gun-toting stranger. He dumps two captive Japanese, bound in sacks, with Dasan, and says he'll be back to collect them in a few days. Should they escape, he warns Dasan, there will be repercussions for the whole village.
The Knot 云水谣 英语影评
The Knot 云水谣 英语影评
The Knot 云水谣 英语影评
“The Knot” is of some significance in being the first joint blockbuster production between Mainland China, Hong Kong and Taiwan, and the first to use a Chinese company for its expansive digital effects work. Boasting a big cast of stars and an ambitious story which takes place in a variety of countries and periods of history, the film certainly bore the marks of a ready made pan-Asian hit. Unfortunately, this did not prove to be the case, and although it performed well in Mainland China, the film floundered badly in other territories, and was not particularly well received by critics.
The story begins in the present day with a young woman (played by Hong Kong starlet Isabella Leong) travelling around various Asian countries pestering her old painter aunt in New York on the phone for details regarding her apparently mysterious uncle. This awkward prompting leads into the main story, related in flashback and beginning in Taipei in the 1940s. It is the story of Qiushui (actor Chen Kun, also in “The Little Chinese Seamstress”), a young English tutor who falls in love with Wang Biyun (Taiwanese popstrel Vivian Hsu), the daughter of a rich dentist whose son he is teaching. Sadly, the amorous couple is parted when Qiushui is forced to flee to the Mainland after the government starts hunting down suspected left wing activists, where he becomes a military doctor.
Moving around the country at an alarming pace, Qiushui finds solace in the company of perky nurse Wang Jindi (Li Bingbing, also in “Wait ‘Til you’re Older”), who slowly wears him down with her astounding decency and honesty. Meanwhile, poor Wang Biyun remains in Taipei, caring for her love’s aging mother and hoping against hope that fate will reunite them, while she herself is pursued by the astoundingly decent and honest Zilu (Hong Kong boy band member Steven Cheung).
It’s clear from the start of “The Knot” that the viewer is in for a heavy dose of melodrama and clunky old fashioned romantic values rather than anything gritty or challenging. Indeed, “The Knot” is populated entirely by characters that are quite happy to spend their lives pining away for other characters, whilst they in turn are pined after by a lesser sub-division of even more wretched and lovelorn souls. Since the film is without villains, and since none of the characters are willing to stoop to lies or deceit to try and further their romantic aims, the plot is oddly lacking in real drama despite its themes of loss and tragedy.
Still, the narrative is engaging enough and there is plenty in the way of soap opera style action, which mainly takes the form of endless scenes of heartfelt goodbyes and shots of tear-soaked faces staring glumly into the rain. As such, for viewers looking for an unashamedly sentimental sob story, the film certainly delivers. For viewers of other persuasions, the over the top hysterics to which the cast is prone frequently makes for unintentional amusement, and the film verges into the territory of being enjoyable trash. A great deal of the responsibility for this falls squarely on the shoulders of the two leads, with Chen Kun spending most of the film looking like an enthusiastic though not particularly intelligent puppy, and with Vivian Hsu pouting her way through a role which leads her from amusingly old looking schoolgirl to pained spinster.
Where the film succeeds most is in its impressive visuals, with the high budget clearly having been put to good use in building intricate sets and on a surprisingly judicious and effective use of CGI. Thanks to this, “The Knot” certainly looks gorgeous with some great sweeping camera work, and is lent a suitably epic air through its globetrotting plot, which spans the globe as well as the decades. As a result, there is a definite blockbuster feel to the proceedings, with a professional sheen comparable to similar Hollywood efforts.
Unfortunately, director Yin undermines all of this good work by insistently and inexplicably fading to black every minute or so, seemingly without any thought for continuity or cohesion. This annoying technical gaffe, which frequently interrupts conversations or dramatic scenes gives the impression that the camera is blinking or twitching, and at times makes the film feel like a television production with its advertising breaks cut out.
The film’s other major flaw unquestionably comes in the form of the utterly needless modern day framing device, which serves only to slow things down and to distract from the central plot. Adding insult to injury is the fact that Isabella Leong is absolutely terrible in her mercifully brief role, turning in a non-performance which grates like nails on a blackboard. Of course, thanks to the miracles of DVD technology, viewers have the power to simply skip through these scenes, something which is definitely recommended, and which has the added benefit of also cutting down the rather long running time to a more manageable length.
Thankfully, neither of these is enough to sink the film, and “The Knot” remains entertaining in a big budget schlock-buster fashion. Although unlikely to win any awards for depth or originality, it certainly achieves in its aim of mass appeal melodrama, and should please fans of the form with its luscious production values and epic scope.
The Knot 云水谣 英语影评
“The Knot” is of some significance in being the first joint blockbuster production between Mainland China, Hong Kong and Taiwan, and the first to use a Chinese company for its expansive digital effects work. Boasting a big cast of stars and an ambitious story which takes place in a variety of countries and periods of history, the film certainly bore the marks of a ready made pan-Asian hit. Unfortunately, this did not prove to be the case, and although it performed well in Mainland China, the film floundered badly in other territories, and was not particularly well received by critics.
The story begins in the present day with a young woman (played by Hong Kong starlet Isabella Leong) travelling around various Asian countries pestering her old painter aunt in New York on the phone for details regarding her apparently mysterious uncle. This awkward prompting leads into the main story, related in flashback and beginning in Taipei in the 1940s. It is the story of Qiushui (actor Chen Kun, also in “The Little Chinese Seamstress”), a young English tutor who falls in love with Wang Biyun (Taiwanese popstrel Vivian Hsu), the daughter of a rich dentist whose son he is teaching. Sadly, the amorous couple is parted when Qiushui is forced to flee to the Mainland after the government starts hunting down suspected left wing activists, where he becomes a military doctor.
Moving around the country at an alarming pace, Qiushui finds solace in the company of perky nurse Wang Jindi (Li Bingbing, also in “Wait ‘Til you’re Older”), who slowly wears him down with her astounding decency and honesty. Meanwhile, poor Wang Biyun remains in Taipei, caring for her love’s aging mother and hoping against hope that fate will reunite them, while she herself is pursued by the astoundingly decent and honest Zilu (Hong Kong boy band member Steven Cheung).
It’s clear from the start of “The Knot” that the viewer is in for a heavy dose of melodrama and clunky old fashioned romantic values rather than anything gritty or challenging. Indeed, “The Knot” is populated entirely by characters that are quite happy to spend their lives pining away for other characters, whilst they in turn are pined after by a lesser sub-division of even more wretched and lovelorn souls. Since the film is without villains, and since none of the characters are willing to stoop to lies or deceit to try and further their romantic aims, the plot is oddly lacking in real drama despite its themes of loss and tragedy.
Still, the narrative is engaging enough and there is plenty in the way of soap opera style action, which mainly takes the form of endless scenes of heartfelt goodbyes and shots of tear-soaked faces staring glumly into the rain. As such, for viewers looking for an unashamedly sentimental sob story, the film certainly delivers. For viewers of other persuasions, the over the top hysterics to which the cast is prone frequently makes for unintentional amusement, and the film verges into the territory of being enjoyable trash. A great deal of the responsibility for this falls squarely on the shoulders of the two leads, with Chen Kun spending most of the film looking like an enthusiastic though not particularly intelligent puppy, and with Vivian Hsu pouting her way through a role which leads her from amusingly old looking schoolgirl to pained spinster.
Where the film succeeds most is in its impressive visuals, with the high budget clearly having been put to good use in building intricate sets and on a surprisingly judicious and effective use of CGI. Thanks to this, “The Knot” certainly looks gorgeous with some great sweeping camera work, and is lent a suitably epic air through its globetrotting plot, which spans the globe as well as the decades. As a result, there is a definite blockbuster feel to the proceedings, with a professional sheen comparable to similar Hollywood efforts.
Unfortunately, director Yin undermines all of this good work by insistently and inexplicably fading to black every minute or so, seemingly without any thought for continuity or cohesion. This annoying technical gaffe, which frequently interrupts conversations or dramatic scenes gives the impression that the camera is blinking or twitching, and at times makes the film feel like a television production with its advertising breaks cut out.
The film’s other major flaw unquestionably comes in the form of the utterly needless modern day framing device, which serves only to slow things down and to distract from the central plot. Adding insult to injury is the fact that Isabella Leong is absolutely terrible in her mercifully brief role, turning in a non-performance which grates like nails on a blackboard. Of course, thanks to the miracles of DVD technology, viewers have the power to simply skip through these scenes, something which is definitely recommended, and which has the added benefit of also cutting down the rather long running time to a more manageable length.
Thankfully, neither of these is enough to sink the film, and “The Knot” remains entertaining in a big budget schlock-buster fashion. Although unlikely to win any awards for depth or originality, it certainly achieves in its aim of mass appeal melodrama, and should please fans of the form with its luscious production values and epic scope.
Death at a funeral 葬礼上的死亡 英语影评
Death at a funeral 葬礼上的死亡 英语影评
Death at a funeral 葬礼上的死亡 英语影评
There’s no dearth of rude humor on screens right now, but “Death at a Funeral” stands apart because its characters — mostly reserved upper-middle-class British folk who have gathered to bury a patriarch — are determined to keep a stiff upper lip no matter what. That’s no small feat when one of the mourners has ingested a psychedelic drug and another is secretly holding a would-be blackmailer hostage in a room mere meters from where the body lies in state.
“Death” is the latest feature from the Muppeteer turned farceur Frank Oz. Although his directorial track record is spotty (he made the near-classics “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” and “Bowfinger,” as well as the tedious remake of “The Stepford Wives”), he has a knack for peppering safe commercial projects with ecstatically deranged situations.
There’s nothing in “Death” that tops the craziest sight gag in “Bowfinger”: a dog in pumps ambling through a parking garage. But Dean Craig’s screenplay offers at least six moments that come close, and it’s hard to describe them without ruining their impact. Suffice it to say Mr. Oz stages them with such wicked glee that they eclipse the movie’s problematic aspects (more about those in a moment) and its reflexive, mostly regrettable attempts to add “heart,” an organ that should be banned from farce unless the director intends to jam a steak knife through it.
Heart is represented by the movie’s hero, Daniel (Matthew Macfadyen of “Pride and Prejudice”), a super-responsible sad sack who arranged his father’s funeral. Daniel is a would-be writer who has promised his wife (Keeley Hawes) that they’ll move out of mom’s house one day. He’s terrified of delivering a eulogy in the presence of his brother, Robert (Rupert Graves), a pampered hotshot novelist who has flown in first class from New York yet pleads poverty when asked to cover his half of the funeral expenses. Daniel must also juggle the emotional demands of myopic, squabbling guests and the anxiety of an overscheduled reverend (Thomas Wheatley) whose timetable is thrown out of whack when the deceased’s body — well, I won’t spoil that gag, because it’s one of the six.
There’s no doubt that Daniel will steel himself, restore gravity to the event and deliver a stirring valediction. But Mr. Oz and Mr. Craig don’t go easy on him. The strait-laced Simon (Alan Tudyk) is frightened to be in the same room as his potential father-in-law (Peter Egan), so his fiancée, Daniel’s cousin Martha (Daisy Donovan), filches him a Valium belonging to her brother, Troy (Kris Marshall). Unfortunately for Simon, Troy is a freelance drug chemist, and that Valium is actually an illegal experimental hallucinogen; over the course of the film, Simon (played with phenomenal focus by Mr. Tudyk) goes from stoner bliss to cokehead paranoia to clothes-rending madness and eventually ends up — oops, sorry; that’s another one of the six.
The cast of characters also includes the dead man’s widow (Jane Asher), whose seemingly vast reserves of patience slowly evaporate; a family acquaintance named Justin (Ewen Bremner), who tagged along hoping to steal Martha’s heart; and Daniel’s best friend, Howard (the scene-stealing fussbudget Andy Nyman), a germophobe assigned to accompany Daniel’s cantankerous, wheelchair-using Uncle Alfie (Peter Vaughan), who is therefore guaranteed to wind up on the receiving end of the nastiest of Mr. Oz’s six sensational gags.
The most striking guest is a mysterious dwarf named Peter (Peter Dinklage, natch) who shows up uninvited, reveals a secret, demands a share of the family fortune and spends much of the film hogtied and abused. Peter’s short stature and homosexuality are presented as an obvious (albeit comic) source of menace, and the script — which goes out of its way to make every other character at least fitfully endearing — never treats him as anything but a ridiculous inconvenience.
Farces aren’t supposed to be polite, but Peter’s treatment feels singularly cheap. It takes an infamous, sardonic Randy Newman lyric at face value: “Don’t want no short people ’round here.”
Death at a funeral 葬礼上的死亡 英语影评
There’s no dearth of rude humor on screens right now, but “Death at a Funeral” stands apart because its characters — mostly reserved upper-middle-class British folk who have gathered to bury a patriarch — are determined to keep a stiff upper lip no matter what. That’s no small feat when one of the mourners has ingested a psychedelic drug and another is secretly holding a would-be blackmailer hostage in a room mere meters from where the body lies in state.
“Death” is the latest feature from the Muppeteer turned farceur Frank Oz. Although his directorial track record is spotty (he made the near-classics “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” and “Bowfinger,” as well as the tedious remake of “The Stepford Wives”), he has a knack for peppering safe commercial projects with ecstatically deranged situations.
There’s nothing in “Death” that tops the craziest sight gag in “Bowfinger”: a dog in pumps ambling through a parking garage. But Dean Craig’s screenplay offers at least six moments that come close, and it’s hard to describe them without ruining their impact. Suffice it to say Mr. Oz stages them with such wicked glee that they eclipse the movie’s problematic aspects (more about those in a moment) and its reflexive, mostly regrettable attempts to add “heart,” an organ that should be banned from farce unless the director intends to jam a steak knife through it.
Heart is represented by the movie’s hero, Daniel (Matthew Macfadyen of “Pride and Prejudice”), a super-responsible sad sack who arranged his father’s funeral. Daniel is a would-be writer who has promised his wife (Keeley Hawes) that they’ll move out of mom’s house one day. He’s terrified of delivering a eulogy in the presence of his brother, Robert (Rupert Graves), a pampered hotshot novelist who has flown in first class from New York yet pleads poverty when asked to cover his half of the funeral expenses. Daniel must also juggle the emotional demands of myopic, squabbling guests and the anxiety of an overscheduled reverend (Thomas Wheatley) whose timetable is thrown out of whack when the deceased’s body — well, I won’t spoil that gag, because it’s one of the six.
There’s no doubt that Daniel will steel himself, restore gravity to the event and deliver a stirring valediction. But Mr. Oz and Mr. Craig don’t go easy on him. The strait-laced Simon (Alan Tudyk) is frightened to be in the same room as his potential father-in-law (Peter Egan), so his fiancée, Daniel’s cousin Martha (Daisy Donovan), filches him a Valium belonging to her brother, Troy (Kris Marshall). Unfortunately for Simon, Troy is a freelance drug chemist, and that Valium is actually an illegal experimental hallucinogen; over the course of the film, Simon (played with phenomenal focus by Mr. Tudyk) goes from stoner bliss to cokehead paranoia to clothes-rending madness and eventually ends up — oops, sorry; that’s another one of the six.
The cast of characters also includes the dead man’s widow (Jane Asher), whose seemingly vast reserves of patience slowly evaporate; a family acquaintance named Justin (Ewen Bremner), who tagged along hoping to steal Martha’s heart; and Daniel’s best friend, Howard (the scene-stealing fussbudget Andy Nyman), a germophobe assigned to accompany Daniel’s cantankerous, wheelchair-using Uncle Alfie (Peter Vaughan), who is therefore guaranteed to wind up on the receiving end of the nastiest of Mr. Oz’s six sensational gags.
The most striking guest is a mysterious dwarf named Peter (Peter Dinklage, natch) who shows up uninvited, reveals a secret, demands a share of the family fortune and spends much of the film hogtied and abused. Peter’s short stature and homosexuality are presented as an obvious (albeit comic) source of menace, and the script — which goes out of its way to make every other character at least fitfully endearing — never treats him as anything but a ridiculous inconvenience.
Farces aren’t supposed to be polite, but Peter’s treatment feels singularly cheap. It takes an infamous, sardonic Randy Newman lyric at face value: “Don’t want no short people ’round here.”
Horton Hears a Who 霍顿与无名氏 英语影评
Horton Hears a Who 霍顿与无名氏 英语影评
Horton Hears a Who 霍顿与无名氏 英语影评
If I ran the circus, the gang that made the sturdy, witty, inventively animated Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who! would get first dibs on any future movie productions of the Theodor Seuss Geisel canon. Grinches have messed up recent live-action adaptations beyond repair: I do not like The Cat in the Hat, I do not like it, fancy that. But this exuberant translation of the 1954 classic — from the Blue Sky Studios folks who made Sisyphean drama out of a squirrel and a nut in Ice Age — is true to the Seuss vision, with a contemporary integrity that makes full use of CG power without sacrificing the delicacy of the author's springy, zingy illustrations. The new Horton proves that in the care of a creative team prudent enough to keep the focus on the book's timeless mélange of eccentricities and ethics and steer clear of meta joking or condescension, there's new juice to be squeezed from old Seuss yet.
Certainly the excesses of the live-action Cat and How the Grinch Stole Christmas movies can't eclipse the durable genius of the good Doctor, who, in Horton, has created one of literature's great pachyderm role models. One day ''in the Jungle of Nool,'' as anyone who was ever an American child may remember, the title elephant hears the tiniest squeak coming from the smallest speck floating through the air, and discerns an entire universe in a dust mote. It's the residents of Who-ville he alone hears — city folks in a vulnerable universe teensy enough for Horton to carry on the head of a clover flower. And so, even though he can't see them, Horton tenderly carries the Whos to safety, despite outlandish obstacles in a jungle of naysayers, led by a bullying bossypouch of a kangaroo. His explanation, ''A person's a person, no matter how small,'' is a verity right up there with ''give peace a chance.'' Accordingly, the statement has been interpreted like a holy text. Completists may also want to track down Chuck Jones' animated 1970 TV version.
The actors who lend their voices to the film aren't people we generally think of as working ''small.'' But in a felicitous group effort guided by directors Jimmy Hayward (a Pixar alumnus) and Steve Martino (art director of Blue Sky's Robots), comic powerhouses Jim Carrey (as Horton), Steve Carell (as the Mayor), and Carol Burnett (as the sour Kangaroo) temper their own full-throttle performances with an unironic respect for the original text. The backup players (among them Seth Rogen, Will Arnett, Amy Poehler, and Isla Fisher) also swing in the breeze. The movie's visual pep complements the nonconformist glee of Seuss' line drawings. And when the entire population of Who-ville clangs and chimes to announce ''We are here!'' loud enough to be heard beyond their city limits, the noise is downright joyous.
Horton Hears a Who 霍顿与无名氏 英语影评
If I ran the circus, the gang that made the sturdy, witty, inventively animated Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears a Who! would get first dibs on any future movie productions of the Theodor Seuss Geisel canon. Grinches have messed up recent live-action adaptations beyond repair: I do not like The Cat in the Hat, I do not like it, fancy that. But this exuberant translation of the 1954 classic — from the Blue Sky Studios folks who made Sisyphean drama out of a squirrel and a nut in Ice Age — is true to the Seuss vision, with a contemporary integrity that makes full use of CG power without sacrificing the delicacy of the author's springy, zingy illustrations. The new Horton proves that in the care of a creative team prudent enough to keep the focus on the book's timeless mélange of eccentricities and ethics and steer clear of meta joking or condescension, there's new juice to be squeezed from old Seuss yet.
Certainly the excesses of the live-action Cat and How the Grinch Stole Christmas movies can't eclipse the durable genius of the good Doctor, who, in Horton, has created one of literature's great pachyderm role models. One day ''in the Jungle of Nool,'' as anyone who was ever an American child may remember, the title elephant hears the tiniest squeak coming from the smallest speck floating through the air, and discerns an entire universe in a dust mote. It's the residents of Who-ville he alone hears — city folks in a vulnerable universe teensy enough for Horton to carry on the head of a clover flower. And so, even though he can't see them, Horton tenderly carries the Whos to safety, despite outlandish obstacles in a jungle of naysayers, led by a bullying bossypouch of a kangaroo. His explanation, ''A person's a person, no matter how small,'' is a verity right up there with ''give peace a chance.'' Accordingly, the statement has been interpreted like a holy text. Completists may also want to track down Chuck Jones' animated 1970 TV version.
The actors who lend their voices to the film aren't people we generally think of as working ''small.'' But in a felicitous group effort guided by directors Jimmy Hayward (a Pixar alumnus) and Steve Martino (art director of Blue Sky's Robots), comic powerhouses Jim Carrey (as Horton), Steve Carell (as the Mayor), and Carol Burnett (as the sour Kangaroo) temper their own full-throttle performances with an unironic respect for the original text. The backup players (among them Seth Rogen, Will Arnett, Amy Poehler, and Isla Fisher) also swing in the breeze. The movie's visual pep complements the nonconformist glee of Seuss' line drawings. And when the entire population of Who-ville clangs and chimes to announce ''We are here!'' loud enough to be heard beyond their city limits, the noise is downright joyous.
Boarding Gate 登机门 英语影评
Boarding Gate 登机门 英语影评
Boarding Gate 登机门 英语影评
I’m fairly certain one reason that the French director Olivier Assayas made “Boarding Gate” is that he wanted to watch the Italian actress Asia Argento strut around in black underwear and punishing heels. And why not? Ms. Argento looks delectable if somewhat demented in “Boarding Gate,” in which she comes across as a postmodern Pearl White, who starred in silent adventure serials like “The Perils of Pauline.” Ms. Argento seems to invite trouble, and Mr. Assayas, who has a way of capturing the seemingly ineffable, has a thing for troubled, troubling women.
“Boarding Gate,” a casually beautiful, preposterously plotted, elliptical thriller, earned little love last year when it played at the Cannes Film Festival, where it was shown out of competition. It didn’t do much for Mr. Assayas’s reputation, at least among some critics, who had been just as eager to dismiss his other recent films, among them “Clean” (2004) and the much-maligned “demonlover” (2002). What “Boarding Gate” did do was reconfirm Ms. Argento as one of contemporary cinema’s most fascinating creatures. Her on-screen ferocity is now generating as much interest as her tattoos — an angel hovers above her pubic bone, and an eye stares out from one shoulder — or the ease with which she sheds her clothes, which explains why I can describe those tattoos with confidence.
In truth, thriller is a convenient but imprecise descriptor for “Boarding Gate,” which resists categorization despite Mr. Assayas’s stated insistence that he was trying (really) to make a B movie in English. Much like “demonlover” this new film plays with various genre codes and conventions — the femme fatale, violence, murder, an atmosphere of danger and dread — but plays with them very differently than most run-of-the-mill modern thrillers. Indeed both films depend on your having at least a passing familiarity with the kind of anonymously produced slick flicks — slickly packaged, slicked with blood — that are an industry staple from Hollywood to Hong Kong. You may not remember the names of these industrial entertainments, but they’re invariably playing on a screen near you.
Despite Mr. Assayas’s interest in genre there is something in him that either rebels against the obvious or is simply incapable of delivering the same-old, same-old movie-packaged fun and death. It seems fitting then that the first and final images in “Boarding Gate” are so blurred you can’t tell what you’re looking at. Yet even after the opening image comes into focus — two men fire guns at an indoor shooting range — you realize you still don’t know what you’re watching. Seeing is believing (something, sometimes), but seeing isn’t knowing, Mr. Assayas likes to remind us. And so in “Boarding Gate” he racks up one eye-catching incident after another (involving sadomasochistic sex, pooling blood and smuggled drugs) that swirl on screen with little apparent connection.
It’s actually easy to make story sense of “Boarding Gate” if you go with Mr. Assayas’s oblique strategies. Ms. Argento is Sandra, the former lover of a shifty, financially struggling American businessman, Miles (Michael Madsen), who lives, works and plays rough in Paris. An ex-prostitute, Sandra wants to make a new life running a club in Beijing, but she needs money, which leads her back to Miles as well as to a shady couple, Lester and Sue (Carl Ng and Kelly Lin). Murder and mystery lead Sandra to Hong Kong where guns are drawn and discharged. At one point Kim Gordon, the frontwoman for Sonic Youth, shows up, barking orders in Cantonese, a moment of delirium in what has become an increasingly unhinged enterprise.
In “demonlover,” which involves corporate intrigue and pornography, sex is a commodity and a spectacle, a means of control and a weapon of power. Business transactions resemble mating rituals, and sexual encounters are as erotic as watching traders skirmish at the Stock Exchange. The sex in “Boarding Gate” is more complicated, partly because Sandra isn’t just a conduit for Mr. Assayas’s ideas — she isn’t simply another of cinema’s overdetermined whores — but also an identifiably real, cringingly human character. “Demonlover,” with its sleek surfaces, slippery ideas and pulp flourishes, is a perfect critical object. But “Boarding Gate,” despite its periodic and self-conscious outlandishness, feels much more tethered to lived experience, which is Mr. Assayas’s great subject.
It can be easy to overlook this investment in real life, but only because the shiny surfaces of his films, with their excesses and putatively exotic locales, are so beguiling and even distracting. “Boarding Gate” certainly offers plenty of visual distractions, the image of Ms. Argento getting down and dirty with Mr. Madsen included. And there is no question that Mr. Assayas, a former film critic for Cahiers du Cinéma, knows full well the commercial value of female nudity and not just its aesthetic charm. That said, even in “Boarding Gate,” a modestly scaled, self-consciously tawdry exercise in genre appropriation, Mr. Assayas manages to say more about what it is to be human — to desire, to fear, to be alone — than most filmmakers say in a lifetime.
As always, it’s easy to be dazzled by Mr. Assayas’s camerawork — the way he catches a person’s movement as well as the volition behind that movement — but watching “Boarding Gate” I was again struck by how he uses music to amplify reality, almost as if he were inviting you to listen to the songs playing in other people’s heads. His use of Brian Eno here is particularly potent. Mr. Eno creates music that drifts around you, enveloping you in moods and waves of feeling, which is precisely what Mr. Assayas does as a filmmaker. Mr. Eno has said that for him making popular music is about “creating new, imaginary worlds and inviting people to join them,” a sentiment that Mr. Assayas no doubt understands.
Boarding Gate 登机门 英语影评
I’m fairly certain one reason that the French director Olivier Assayas made “Boarding Gate” is that he wanted to watch the Italian actress Asia Argento strut around in black underwear and punishing heels. And why not? Ms. Argento looks delectable if somewhat demented in “Boarding Gate,” in which she comes across as a postmodern Pearl White, who starred in silent adventure serials like “The Perils of Pauline.” Ms. Argento seems to invite trouble, and Mr. Assayas, who has a way of capturing the seemingly ineffable, has a thing for troubled, troubling women.
“Boarding Gate,” a casually beautiful, preposterously plotted, elliptical thriller, earned little love last year when it played at the Cannes Film Festival, where it was shown out of competition. It didn’t do much for Mr. Assayas’s reputation, at least among some critics, who had been just as eager to dismiss his other recent films, among them “Clean” (2004) and the much-maligned “demonlover” (2002). What “Boarding Gate” did do was reconfirm Ms. Argento as one of contemporary cinema’s most fascinating creatures. Her on-screen ferocity is now generating as much interest as her tattoos — an angel hovers above her pubic bone, and an eye stares out from one shoulder — or the ease with which she sheds her clothes, which explains why I can describe those tattoos with confidence.
In truth, thriller is a convenient but imprecise descriptor for “Boarding Gate,” which resists categorization despite Mr. Assayas’s stated insistence that he was trying (really) to make a B movie in English. Much like “demonlover” this new film plays with various genre codes and conventions — the femme fatale, violence, murder, an atmosphere of danger and dread — but plays with them very differently than most run-of-the-mill modern thrillers. Indeed both films depend on your having at least a passing familiarity with the kind of anonymously produced slick flicks — slickly packaged, slicked with blood — that are an industry staple from Hollywood to Hong Kong. You may not remember the names of these industrial entertainments, but they’re invariably playing on a screen near you.
Despite Mr. Assayas’s interest in genre there is something in him that either rebels against the obvious or is simply incapable of delivering the same-old, same-old movie-packaged fun and death. It seems fitting then that the first and final images in “Boarding Gate” are so blurred you can’t tell what you’re looking at. Yet even after the opening image comes into focus — two men fire guns at an indoor shooting range — you realize you still don’t know what you’re watching. Seeing is believing (something, sometimes), but seeing isn’t knowing, Mr. Assayas likes to remind us. And so in “Boarding Gate” he racks up one eye-catching incident after another (involving sadomasochistic sex, pooling blood and smuggled drugs) that swirl on screen with little apparent connection.
It’s actually easy to make story sense of “Boarding Gate” if you go with Mr. Assayas’s oblique strategies. Ms. Argento is Sandra, the former lover of a shifty, financially struggling American businessman, Miles (Michael Madsen), who lives, works and plays rough in Paris. An ex-prostitute, Sandra wants to make a new life running a club in Beijing, but she needs money, which leads her back to Miles as well as to a shady couple, Lester and Sue (Carl Ng and Kelly Lin). Murder and mystery lead Sandra to Hong Kong where guns are drawn and discharged. At one point Kim Gordon, the frontwoman for Sonic Youth, shows up, barking orders in Cantonese, a moment of delirium in what has become an increasingly unhinged enterprise.
In “demonlover,” which involves corporate intrigue and pornography, sex is a commodity and a spectacle, a means of control and a weapon of power. Business transactions resemble mating rituals, and sexual encounters are as erotic as watching traders skirmish at the Stock Exchange. The sex in “Boarding Gate” is more complicated, partly because Sandra isn’t just a conduit for Mr. Assayas’s ideas — she isn’t simply another of cinema’s overdetermined whores — but also an identifiably real, cringingly human character. “Demonlover,” with its sleek surfaces, slippery ideas and pulp flourishes, is a perfect critical object. But “Boarding Gate,” despite its periodic and self-conscious outlandishness, feels much more tethered to lived experience, which is Mr. Assayas’s great subject.
It can be easy to overlook this investment in real life, but only because the shiny surfaces of his films, with their excesses and putatively exotic locales, are so beguiling and even distracting. “Boarding Gate” certainly offers plenty of visual distractions, the image of Ms. Argento getting down and dirty with Mr. Madsen included. And there is no question that Mr. Assayas, a former film critic for Cahiers du Cinéma, knows full well the commercial value of female nudity and not just its aesthetic charm. That said, even in “Boarding Gate,” a modestly scaled, self-consciously tawdry exercise in genre appropriation, Mr. Assayas manages to say more about what it is to be human — to desire, to fear, to be alone — than most filmmakers say in a lifetime.
As always, it’s easy to be dazzled by Mr. Assayas’s camerawork — the way he catches a person’s movement as well as the volition behind that movement — but watching “Boarding Gate” I was again struck by how he uses music to amplify reality, almost as if he were inviting you to listen to the songs playing in other people’s heads. His use of Brian Eno here is particularly potent. Mr. Eno creates music that drifts around you, enveloping you in moods and waves of feeling, which is precisely what Mr. Assayas does as a filmmaker. Mr. Eno has said that for him making popular music is about “creating new, imaginary worlds and inviting people to join them,” a sentiment that Mr. Assayas no doubt understands.
April Fools Day 恐怖愚人节 英语影评
April Fools Day 恐怖愚人节 英语影评
April Fools Day 恐怖愚人节 英语影评
You might recognize Deborah Foreman's Muffy as the "six inch spike" girl from Real Genius, and you might remember Thomas F. Wilson's Arch as Biff from the Back to the Future series. And you might recognize April Fool's Day's hair and clothing styles as something you wore yourself 15 years ago. Talk about horror!
The archetypal family manor on an inaccessible island plays the setting for a group of college kids, invited by the mysterious Muffy to spend the weekend. But the April Fool's pranks begin before the kids ever make it to the island as one guy fakes being stabbed. Pretty soon chairs are collapsing, faucets are squirting, glasses are dribbling... and the body count is rising.
As corny as April Fool's Day is, it's also a guilty pleasure among horror films. Schlock full of twists, turns, and red herrings, this whodunit is an early influencer to Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, and a whole host of imitators. The production values are middling and the acting is ham-fisted (at best), but it's a classic ride into one of the best examples of horror cheese going.
April Fools Day 恐怖愚人节 英语影评
You might recognize Deborah Foreman's Muffy as the "six inch spike" girl from Real Genius, and you might remember Thomas F. Wilson's Arch as Biff from the Back to the Future series. And you might recognize April Fool's Day's hair and clothing styles as something you wore yourself 15 years ago. Talk about horror!
The archetypal family manor on an inaccessible island plays the setting for a group of college kids, invited by the mysterious Muffy to spend the weekend. But the April Fool's pranks begin before the kids ever make it to the island as one guy fakes being stabbed. Pretty soon chairs are collapsing, faucets are squirting, glasses are dribbling... and the body count is rising.
As corny as April Fool's Day is, it's also a guilty pleasure among horror films. Schlock full of twists, turns, and red herrings, this whodunit is an early influencer to Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, and a whole host of imitators. The production values are middling and the acting is ham-fisted (at best), but it's a classic ride into one of the best examples of horror cheese going.
Teeth of Love 爱情的牙齿 英语影评
Teeth of Love 爱情的牙齿 英语影评
Teeth of Love 爱情的牙齿 英语影评
“Teeth of Love” marks the debut of director Zhuang Yuxin, a noted television screenwriter and professor at the Beijing Film Academy. Although the subject of his first film may sound depressingly familiar, following a character’s development against the backdrop of economic and social change in China, it actually turns out to be quite different, making few concessions to the conventions of the genre and constantly confounding expectations. The film has enjoyed some success at festivals, playing at the 2007 Deauville Asian Film Festival in France and winning the award for Best Feature at the 14th Beijing Student Film Festival.
After opening with a rather pointless framing scene, the film is basically split into three parts following different stages in the life of a woman called Qian Yehong (actress Yan Bingyan), beginning with her tomboy teenage years in 1970s Beijing, during which she bullies and beats other students and breaks the heart of a poor boy who expresses affection for her. The drama then shifts to her early twenties, with her working as a doctor in a hospital, when she has an affair with a married man. After this ends badly she returns to Beijing to work in an abattoir and drifts into a marriage with a shy man called Wei Yingqiu (Li Naiwen), the relative of an old classmate. Sadly, although the couple have a child, Qian remains unfulfilled, and it eventually becomes clear that yet more grief is on the cards.
Pleasingly, although “Teeth of Love” paints a convincing picture of a certain time and place, it is first and foremost a personal journey, with Qian’s gradual maturation driving the story rather than merely serving as a thinly veiled backdrop for the usual metaphors and themes of political upheaval and social change as is so often the case with this kind of film. This said, like its protagonist, the film is strangely distant and emotionally aloof throughout, and never really makes any attempt to explain why she behaves in such an obtuse manner or to truly get under her skin - this does leave the proceedings rather less moving than they might have been, though at least director Zhuang avoids the kind of melodrama or forced catharsis which might have been feared. The film is certainly engaging, as Qian is an interesting character despite all her faults, and though it is hard to like her, the viewer gradually comes to feel a certain sympathy for her and even to care about her fate.
It does make for pretty bleak viewing, with most of her development as a woman coming about as the result of a series of harsh lessons, often due to mistakes of her own making. Indeed, all of the relationships in the film are awkward and tend to end in agony and injury both emotional and physical. Pain is very much at the heart of the film, with Qian’s troubled back serving as a symbol of her misery and as a forewarning of imminent strife. Though this does give the film a refreshing unconventional feel and is certainly preferable to tacky romance, it can be quite hard going, piling on the trauma through childhood tragedies to an excruciating though strangely intimate abortion scene.
Zhuang directs with a naturalistic, unobtrusive style, and covers the years well, giving the real sense of a personal journey. He utilises a palette of muted colours which make for a gloomy atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional startling fade to red which usually marks a particularly harrowing episode. This is underlined further by the somewhat sinister soundtrack, and the proceedings are quite tense throughout, with Qian always seeming to be on the verge of another emotional disaster.
This, along with its interesting choice of protagonist helps set “Teeth of Love” apart from other character study dramas, and gives it a distinctive, if depressing air. By eschewing the usual cheap sentiments and fairy tale resolutions, director Zhuang succeeds in painting a fascinating and engrossing portrait of a troubled young woman which marks him as a talent worth watching.
Teeth of Love 爱情的牙齿 英语影评
“Teeth of Love” marks the debut of director Zhuang Yuxin, a noted television screenwriter and professor at the Beijing Film Academy. Although the subject of his first film may sound depressingly familiar, following a character’s development against the backdrop of economic and social change in China, it actually turns out to be quite different, making few concessions to the conventions of the genre and constantly confounding expectations. The film has enjoyed some success at festivals, playing at the 2007 Deauville Asian Film Festival in France and winning the award for Best Feature at the 14th Beijing Student Film Festival.
After opening with a rather pointless framing scene, the film is basically split into three parts following different stages in the life of a woman called Qian Yehong (actress Yan Bingyan), beginning with her tomboy teenage years in 1970s Beijing, during which she bullies and beats other students and breaks the heart of a poor boy who expresses affection for her. The drama then shifts to her early twenties, with her working as a doctor in a hospital, when she has an affair with a married man. After this ends badly she returns to Beijing to work in an abattoir and drifts into a marriage with a shy man called Wei Yingqiu (Li Naiwen), the relative of an old classmate. Sadly, although the couple have a child, Qian remains unfulfilled, and it eventually becomes clear that yet more grief is on the cards.
Pleasingly, although “Teeth of Love” paints a convincing picture of a certain time and place, it is first and foremost a personal journey, with Qian’s gradual maturation driving the story rather than merely serving as a thinly veiled backdrop for the usual metaphors and themes of political upheaval and social change as is so often the case with this kind of film. This said, like its protagonist, the film is strangely distant and emotionally aloof throughout, and never really makes any attempt to explain why she behaves in such an obtuse manner or to truly get under her skin - this does leave the proceedings rather less moving than they might have been, though at least director Zhuang avoids the kind of melodrama or forced catharsis which might have been feared. The film is certainly engaging, as Qian is an interesting character despite all her faults, and though it is hard to like her, the viewer gradually comes to feel a certain sympathy for her and even to care about her fate.
It does make for pretty bleak viewing, with most of her development as a woman coming about as the result of a series of harsh lessons, often due to mistakes of her own making. Indeed, all of the relationships in the film are awkward and tend to end in agony and injury both emotional and physical. Pain is very much at the heart of the film, with Qian’s troubled back serving as a symbol of her misery and as a forewarning of imminent strife. Though this does give the film a refreshing unconventional feel and is certainly preferable to tacky romance, it can be quite hard going, piling on the trauma through childhood tragedies to an excruciating though strangely intimate abortion scene.
Zhuang directs with a naturalistic, unobtrusive style, and covers the years well, giving the real sense of a personal journey. He utilises a palette of muted colours which make for a gloomy atmosphere, punctuated only by the occasional startling fade to red which usually marks a particularly harrowing episode. This is underlined further by the somewhat sinister soundtrack, and the proceedings are quite tense throughout, with Qian always seeming to be on the verge of another emotional disaster.
This, along with its interesting choice of protagonist helps set “Teeth of Love” apart from other character study dramas, and gives it a distinctive, if depressing air. By eschewing the usual cheap sentiments and fairy tale resolutions, director Zhuang succeeds in painting a fascinating and engrossing portrait of a troubled young woman which marks him as a talent worth watching.
Shanghai Dreams 青红 英语影评
Shanghai Dreams 青红 英语影评
Shanghai Dreams 青红 英语影评
This is a surprising, historically revealing drama. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, China's 'third front' policy tried to shift industry into the remote countryside and away from cities like Shanghai, which were vulnerable to invasion. Young idealists who went to build the factories--like writer-director Wang's parents--quickly became disillusioned and longed to return to their native cities but were never allowed to.
Wang's film is about an engineer, Zemin, who longs to return with his family to distant, prosperous, sophisticated Shanghai. He's never forgiven his wife for persuading him to move to Guizhou 15 years before. Like his fellow exiles, he looks down on the locals, and even follows his teenage daughter Ginghong to stop her seeing a local boy. He's opinionated and fixated--nothing must undermine her studies or her prospects when they return to the city.
It's fascinating to see, even in a remote part of China, conflict between the generations. Youths in the town wear bell-bottom trousers and sunglasses, sport Elvis haircuts and sneak away to illegal dance parties. The discontent is wider, and Zemin and his friends listen to the Voice of America--the only source of news apart from the Communist Party. The theme of intergenerational conflict will be familiar to anyone who's seen a James Dean film. The portrayal and point of view though, are far subtler; and the context, including the Party's use of the death penalty as a form of social control, a long way from the complacencies of 1950s America.
Shanghai Dreams 青红 英语影评
This is a surprising, historically revealing drama. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, China's 'third front' policy tried to shift industry into the remote countryside and away from cities like Shanghai, which were vulnerable to invasion. Young idealists who went to build the factories--like writer-director Wang's parents--quickly became disillusioned and longed to return to their native cities but were never allowed to.
Wang's film is about an engineer, Zemin, who longs to return with his family to distant, prosperous, sophisticated Shanghai. He's never forgiven his wife for persuading him to move to Guizhou 15 years before. Like his fellow exiles, he looks down on the locals, and even follows his teenage daughter Ginghong to stop her seeing a local boy. He's opinionated and fixated--nothing must undermine her studies or her prospects when they return to the city.
It's fascinating to see, even in a remote part of China, conflict between the generations. Youths in the town wear bell-bottom trousers and sunglasses, sport Elvis haircuts and sneak away to illegal dance parties. The discontent is wider, and Zemin and his friends listen to the Voice of America--the only source of news apart from the Communist Party. The theme of intergenerational conflict will be familiar to anyone who's seen a James Dean film. The portrayal and point of view though, are far subtler; and the context, including the Party's use of the death penalty as a form of social control, a long way from the complacencies of 1950s America.
Gattaca 千钧一发 英语影评
Gattaca 千钧一发 英语影评
Gattaca 千钧一发 英语影评
The morality of genetic selection is explored in Gattaca. Although set in the future the technological developments are downplayed with a sterile, featureless working environment and retro looking cars. The focus is on undesirable changes to society, in a similar vein to A Clockwork Orange, 1984 and Blade Runner.
New Zealand born Andrew Niccol is the director and screen writer of Gattaca. He is also the screen writer of The Truman Show which has some similarities. The movies share the general theme of an individual triumphing over an artificial society and the specific theme of venturing out into the ocean.
The tagline of the movie is that there is no gene for the human spirit. The main character (Ethan Hawke) shows he has the spirit to compensate for the physical genetic weakness that life has dealt him. Through a DNA broker Hawke arranges to take on the identity of a crippled man with impeccable genes (Jude Law.)
In the movie's parlance Hawke becomes a "borrowed ladder." This is one of many references to DNA in the movie. Hawke's character is seen playing with a toy DNA strand as a young child, Law's apartment features a spiral staircase and the four letters used in the word "Gattaca" are the initial letters of the four DNA nucleotides (adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine.)
The acting performances of Hawke and the leading lady (Uma Thurman) are restrained by the nature of their characters. The actor who steals the show is Law. At the beginning of the movie he is a bitter and twisted man wallowing in self-pity and resentment for the world. Initially Law despises Hawke for having inferior genes but he comes to admire Hawke's spirit and determination to succeed against the odds. In a significant scene Law shows he has spirit too when he hauls himself up his spiral staircase.
Unfortunately Law kills himself at the end of the movie. Even though his motives may have been altruistic I feel the movie strikes a wrong note here.
A better moment is when the company doctor (Xander Berkeley) reveals that he knows about Hawke's deception but turns a blind eye. This demonstrates that there are still people willing to give others a fair go to realise their potential in a discriminatory society.
Gattaca is a well crafted and uplifting movie. It deserved far more success than it received when it was released. For a thought provoking form of sci-fi I highly recommend Gattaca.
Gattaca 千钧一发 英语影评
The morality of genetic selection is explored in Gattaca. Although set in the future the technological developments are downplayed with a sterile, featureless working environment and retro looking cars. The focus is on undesirable changes to society, in a similar vein to A Clockwork Orange, 1984 and Blade Runner.
New Zealand born Andrew Niccol is the director and screen writer of Gattaca. He is also the screen writer of The Truman Show which has some similarities. The movies share the general theme of an individual triumphing over an artificial society and the specific theme of venturing out into the ocean.
The tagline of the movie is that there is no gene for the human spirit. The main character (Ethan Hawke) shows he has the spirit to compensate for the physical genetic weakness that life has dealt him. Through a DNA broker Hawke arranges to take on the identity of a crippled man with impeccable genes (Jude Law.)
In the movie's parlance Hawke becomes a "borrowed ladder." This is one of many references to DNA in the movie. Hawke's character is seen playing with a toy DNA strand as a young child, Law's apartment features a spiral staircase and the four letters used in the word "Gattaca" are the initial letters of the four DNA nucleotides (adenine, cytosine, guanine, and thymine.)
The acting performances of Hawke and the leading lady (Uma Thurman) are restrained by the nature of their characters. The actor who steals the show is Law. At the beginning of the movie he is a bitter and twisted man wallowing in self-pity and resentment for the world. Initially Law despises Hawke for having inferior genes but he comes to admire Hawke's spirit and determination to succeed against the odds. In a significant scene Law shows he has spirit too when he hauls himself up his spiral staircase.
Unfortunately Law kills himself at the end of the movie. Even though his motives may have been altruistic I feel the movie strikes a wrong note here.
A better moment is when the company doctor (Xander Berkeley) reveals that he knows about Hawke's deception but turns a blind eye. This demonstrates that there are still people willing to give others a fair go to realise their potential in a discriminatory society.
Gattaca is a well crafted and uplifting movie. It deserved far more success than it received when it was released. For a thought provoking form of sci-fi I highly recommend Gattaca.
Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon三国之见龙卸甲英语影评
Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon三国之见龙卸甲英语影评
Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon 三国之见龙卸甲 英语影评
Romance Of The Three Kingdoms. Anytime someone adapts this into a film, it’s bound to HUGE. It’s after all one of the most important works of Chinese literature. Daniel Lee’s Three Kingdoms: Resurrection Of The Dragon is indeed huge. It’s star-studded – Andy Lau, Sammo Hung, Maggie Q.
Unfortunately, it’s also emotionally flat.
The powerful war epic about three battling kingdoms in ancient China is logically too huge to be adapted completely into a two-hour film. As such, Three Kingdoms feels like a four-hour film crammed into two hours. The books are so rich that you can pick literally any part of it and develop it into a standalone film. Three Kingdoms has as its focus, the story of Zhao Zilong’s (Andy Lau) rise to power.
You’d wish the film would slow down and take whatever time’s needed to flesh out the characters and their relationships, but I suspect there might be a three- or four-hour version somewhere in Daniel Lee’s head, or that one day we might see a full-fledged version on DVD. It does feel like so.
Because of its lack of breathing space, the film scores zero on its emotional chart, and the story comes across more like a dry recounting of history. Even so, Three Kingdoms is gorgeously stylish, its art direction so attentive to period and design details that it would be a delight for fans of history, legends and myths to see the Five Generals come to life on screen or the beautiful armours and costumes and various other eye-pleasing materials.
These days with so many period epics on the way or already released, you can literally create a checklist for their requisites. Beautiful costumes: check. Stylish weapons: check. Breathtaking landscapes: check. Armies of thousands: check. Exciting martial arts and action sequences?
The action sequences here are messy and hard to see. Most times they’re either shot against the sun or deliberately blurred that it’s hard to tell who’s fighting who. They’re also closely shot and purposely disorienting. Director Lee seems to have Wong Kar-wai Ashes Of Time aspirations, but Ashes Of Time’s style is a necessary component of the story, and in Three Kingdoms, the blurry action isn’t. As such, Sammo Hung’s action choreography is pretty much wasted.
Ultimately it’s all style but zero on emotional connection and mild on adrenaline.
Three Kingdoms: Resurrection of the Dragon 三国之见龙卸甲 英语影评
Romance Of The Three Kingdoms. Anytime someone adapts this into a film, it’s bound to HUGE. It’s after all one of the most important works of Chinese literature. Daniel Lee’s Three Kingdoms: Resurrection Of The Dragon is indeed huge. It’s star-studded – Andy Lau, Sammo Hung, Maggie Q.
Unfortunately, it’s also emotionally flat.
The powerful war epic about three battling kingdoms in ancient China is logically too huge to be adapted completely into a two-hour film. As such, Three Kingdoms feels like a four-hour film crammed into two hours. The books are so rich that you can pick literally any part of it and develop it into a standalone film. Three Kingdoms has as its focus, the story of Zhao Zilong’s (Andy Lau) rise to power.
You’d wish the film would slow down and take whatever time’s needed to flesh out the characters and their relationships, but I suspect there might be a three- or four-hour version somewhere in Daniel Lee’s head, or that one day we might see a full-fledged version on DVD. It does feel like so.
Because of its lack of breathing space, the film scores zero on its emotional chart, and the story comes across more like a dry recounting of history. Even so, Three Kingdoms is gorgeously stylish, its art direction so attentive to period and design details that it would be a delight for fans of history, legends and myths to see the Five Generals come to life on screen or the beautiful armours and costumes and various other eye-pleasing materials.
These days with so many period epics on the way or already released, you can literally create a checklist for their requisites. Beautiful costumes: check. Stylish weapons: check. Breathtaking landscapes: check. Armies of thousands: check. Exciting martial arts and action sequences?
The action sequences here are messy and hard to see. Most times they’re either shot against the sun or deliberately blurred that it’s hard to tell who’s fighting who. They’re also closely shot and purposely disorienting. Director Lee seems to have Wong Kar-wai Ashes Of Time aspirations, but Ashes Of Time’s style is a necessary component of the story, and in Three Kingdoms, the blurry action isn’t. As such, Sammo Hung’s action choreography is pretty much wasted.
Ultimately it’s all style but zero on emotional connection and mild on adrenaline.
In love we trust 左右 英语影评
In love we trust 左右 英语影评
In love we trust 左右 英语影评
Thirtysomething Mei Zhu (Liu), who works for a realtor company, is the devoted mother of cute, 8-year-old Hehe (Zhang Chuqian), her daughter by her previous marriage to building contractor Xiao Lu (Zhang Jiayi). Her contented life with second husband Xie Huaicai (Cheng Taishen), who is an equally devoted stepfather to Hehe, is shattered when the kid is diagnosed with leukemia.
When chemotherapy doesn’t work, the doctors tell Mei Zhu that Hehe needs a bone-marrow transplant; otherwise she has only two or three years left to live. When Mei Zhu and Xiao Lu’s bone marrows prove incompatible, the former suggests one desperate option to the latter: They have another child, by in-vitro fertilization, and use its bone marrow for the transplant. But that depends on whether Xie, and Xiao Lu’s new wife, Dong Fan (Yu Nan, “Tuya’s Marriage”), will agree.
Script takes some 40 minutes to clear its throat before popping the big dramatic question, building the audience’s trust in the characters and preparing it for the major leap of faith. Those 40 minutes, however, are very restrained, with the protags going about their everyday business and family affairs in a glum, wintry Beijing that, though nicely composed in widescreen, doesn’t build a warm or caring enough environment to make the plot jump believable.
Movie’s middle is largely devoted to making Mei Zhu’s decision — as well as Xiao Lu’s complicity — seem emotionally convincing, before further developments lead to an even more extreme proposal by Mei Zhu. Liu, largely known for her TV dramas, is extremely good in the lead role, but doesn’t quite catch the obsessional love for her daughter necessary to make the story work.
Though helmer Wang has shown an aptitude for black comedy in only one past movie — the little-known “Dream House” (1999) — pic could have worked better by taking this route rather than the very earnest one deployed here. Script also seems to have little idea of what to do with the crucial character of Dong Fan, apart from making her a grouchy young professional; several scenes between her and Xiao Lu repeat themselves, and the role only takes on some sympathy in the very final stages.
Still, most of the perfs sustain interest, with Zhang Jiayi bringing some lightness to the pic as Xiao Lu, a typical modern entrepreneur also plagued by business problems. In the movie’s most low-key perf, as the good-hearted Xie, Cheng is exceptionally good, bringing some real heart to the final reel.
Earlier English title was “Left Right,” which translates the Chinese. Though the words appear on screen during the movie’s early stages, the ping-pong idea between the two couples isn’t developed — though, again, could have worked if the whole shebang had been played as a black comedy.
In love we trust 左右 英语影评
Thirtysomething Mei Zhu (Liu), who works for a realtor company, is the devoted mother of cute, 8-year-old Hehe (Zhang Chuqian), her daughter by her previous marriage to building contractor Xiao Lu (Zhang Jiayi). Her contented life with second husband Xie Huaicai (Cheng Taishen), who is an equally devoted stepfather to Hehe, is shattered when the kid is diagnosed with leukemia.
When chemotherapy doesn’t work, the doctors tell Mei Zhu that Hehe needs a bone-marrow transplant; otherwise she has only two or three years left to live. When Mei Zhu and Xiao Lu’s bone marrows prove incompatible, the former suggests one desperate option to the latter: They have another child, by in-vitro fertilization, and use its bone marrow for the transplant. But that depends on whether Xie, and Xiao Lu’s new wife, Dong Fan (Yu Nan, “Tuya’s Marriage”), will agree.
Script takes some 40 minutes to clear its throat before popping the big dramatic question, building the audience’s trust in the characters and preparing it for the major leap of faith. Those 40 minutes, however, are very restrained, with the protags going about their everyday business and family affairs in a glum, wintry Beijing that, though nicely composed in widescreen, doesn’t build a warm or caring enough environment to make the plot jump believable.
Movie’s middle is largely devoted to making Mei Zhu’s decision — as well as Xiao Lu’s complicity — seem emotionally convincing, before further developments lead to an even more extreme proposal by Mei Zhu. Liu, largely known for her TV dramas, is extremely good in the lead role, but doesn’t quite catch the obsessional love for her daughter necessary to make the story work.
Though helmer Wang has shown an aptitude for black comedy in only one past movie — the little-known “Dream House” (1999) — pic could have worked better by taking this route rather than the very earnest one deployed here. Script also seems to have little idea of what to do with the crucial character of Dong Fan, apart from making her a grouchy young professional; several scenes between her and Xiao Lu repeat themselves, and the role only takes on some sympathy in the very final stages.
Still, most of the perfs sustain interest, with Zhang Jiayi bringing some lightness to the pic as Xiao Lu, a typical modern entrepreneur also plagued by business problems. In the movie’s most low-key perf, as the good-hearted Xie, Cheng is exceptionally good, bringing some real heart to the final reel.
Earlier English title was “Left Right,” which translates the Chinese. Though the words appear on screen during the movie’s early stages, the ping-pong idea between the two couples isn’t developed — though, again, could have worked if the whole shebang had been played as a black comedy.
The Eagle Shooting Heroes 东成西就 英语影评
The Eagle Shooting Heroes 东成西就 英语影评
The Eagle Shooting Heroes 东成西就 英语影评
This all-star wack-fest is a parody of Jin Yong’s Eagle Shooting Heroes and the second major release to be based on the adventures of Ouyang Feng and Huang Yaoshi (the other was producer Wong Kar-Wai’s Ashes of Time).
In Wong Kar-Wai's film, Ouyang Feng was played by Leslie Cheung. In this film it's Tony Leung Chiu-Wai who plays Feng, and his performance is like that of a bad guy from a 30’s silent film. Huang Yaoshi is played by Leslie Cheung instead of Tony Leung Ka-Fai, who took the role in Ashes of Time. Jacky Cheung plays Hong Qi, the Beggar Prince, in both movies. Everyone else plays other people and to get into the names and stories would only take up pages.
There are far too many subplots of the Three’s Company variety to even begin to talk about. Basically, a bunch of stars fight, fume, crossdress, mug, and overact with nothing but our senses of humor to rely on. They succeed, but only if we have that particular HK sense of humor, which means we enjoy repetition, musical numbers, squeaky voices, and lots of fast motion. The martial arts choreography by Sammo Hung is pretty good, but the comedy is trying. If you like this sort of thing, this is right up your alley. I have to admit that it did sort of get on my nerves.
The Eagle Shooting Heroes 东成西就 英语影评
This all-star wack-fest is a parody of Jin Yong’s Eagle Shooting Heroes and the second major release to be based on the adventures of Ouyang Feng and Huang Yaoshi (the other was producer Wong Kar-Wai’s Ashes of Time).
In Wong Kar-Wai's film, Ouyang Feng was played by Leslie Cheung. In this film it's Tony Leung Chiu-Wai who plays Feng, and his performance is like that of a bad guy from a 30’s silent film. Huang Yaoshi is played by Leslie Cheung instead of Tony Leung Ka-Fai, who took the role in Ashes of Time. Jacky Cheung plays Hong Qi, the Beggar Prince, in both movies. Everyone else plays other people and to get into the names and stories would only take up pages.
There are far too many subplots of the Three’s Company variety to even begin to talk about. Basically, a bunch of stars fight, fume, crossdress, mug, and overact with nothing but our senses of humor to rely on. They succeed, but only if we have that particular HK sense of humor, which means we enjoy repetition, musical numbers, squeaky voices, and lots of fast motion. The martial arts choreography by Sammo Hung is pretty good, but the comedy is trying. If you like this sort of thing, this is right up your alley. I have to admit that it did sort of get on my nerves.
Mr.Deeds 迪兹先生 英语影评
Mr.Deeds 迪兹先生 英语影评
Mr.Deeds 迪兹先生 英语影评
Adam Sandler still shows up for a movie like Mr. Deeds looking as if he just rolled out of his trailer, wearing the T-shirt he happened to grab, barely even bothering to shave or go to makeup. Let other actors fuss over their wardrobes or worry about whether they've gained a few pounds: Sandler is Sandler, the people's noble-slob comedian! ''Mr. Deeds'' is one of those Sandler opuses, like ''The Wedding Singer'' or ''Big Daddy,'' in which he plays a bighearted, happily dysfunctional ''normal'' guy -- as opposed to, say, ''Little Nicky,'' in which he pushed the comedy of quavery-voiced cretinism to its gimpy nadir and found, for the first time, that his fans started to head for the exits.
I'm not sure that ''Mr. Deeds'' is going to win them back. The movie, an idiot variation on Frank Capra's ''Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,'' might have been thrown together in even less time than it takes Sandler to get dressed in the morning; it feels sort of like the dumbest corporate comedy of 1987. As Longfellow Deeds, a small-town New England pizza delivery boy who inherits $40 billion (Gary Cooper's Deeds inherited just $20 million -- talk about inflation leading to diminished returns), Sandler coasts through the movie giving new blandness to the term ''regular Joe.'' Every so often, he lets out his id by punching someone into the ground, ''Happy Gilmore''-style. Deeds, whose only ambition is to write Hallmark greeting cards, arrives in New York City, where assorted boardroom swells try to take advantage of him. But he's such a good guy that their schemes just roll right off him. The jokes roll off him too. This is Sandler running on empty, repeating what he's already done way too often, gazing with shaggy indifference upon Winona Ryder, who plays a winsome tabloid TV reporter. It's time for the noble slob to shape up.
Mr.Deeds 迪兹先生 英语影评
Adam Sandler still shows up for a movie like Mr. Deeds looking as if he just rolled out of his trailer, wearing the T-shirt he happened to grab, barely even bothering to shave or go to makeup. Let other actors fuss over their wardrobes or worry about whether they've gained a few pounds: Sandler is Sandler, the people's noble-slob comedian! ''Mr. Deeds'' is one of those Sandler opuses, like ''The Wedding Singer'' or ''Big Daddy,'' in which he plays a bighearted, happily dysfunctional ''normal'' guy -- as opposed to, say, ''Little Nicky,'' in which he pushed the comedy of quavery-voiced cretinism to its gimpy nadir and found, for the first time, that his fans started to head for the exits.
I'm not sure that ''Mr. Deeds'' is going to win them back. The movie, an idiot variation on Frank Capra's ''Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,'' might have been thrown together in even less time than it takes Sandler to get dressed in the morning; it feels sort of like the dumbest corporate comedy of 1987. As Longfellow Deeds, a small-town New England pizza delivery boy who inherits $40 billion (Gary Cooper's Deeds inherited just $20 million -- talk about inflation leading to diminished returns), Sandler coasts through the movie giving new blandness to the term ''regular Joe.'' Every so often, he lets out his id by punching someone into the ground, ''Happy Gilmore''-style. Deeds, whose only ambition is to write Hallmark greeting cards, arrives in New York City, where assorted boardroom swells try to take advantage of him. But he's such a good guy that their schemes just roll right off him. The jokes roll off him too. This is Sandler running on empty, repeating what he's already done way too often, gazing with shaggy indifference upon Winona Ryder, who plays a winsome tabloid TV reporter. It's time for the noble slob to shape up.
The Children of Huang Shi 黄石的孩子 英语影评
The Children of Huang Shi 黄石的孩子 英语影评
The Children of Huang Shi 黄石的孩子 英语影评
Inspired by true events, THE CHILDREN OF HUANG SHI is a portrayal both sweeping and intimate of people who, thrown into an unexpected and desperate situation, discover their capacity for love and responsibility. It tells how a young Englishman, George Hogg came to lead sixty orphaned boys on an extraordinary journey of almost a thousand perilous miles across the snow-bound Liu Pan Shan mountains to safety on the edge of the Mongolian desert. And of how, in doing so, he came to understand the true meaning of courage. During his journey, Hogg learns to rely on the support of Chen, the leader of a Chinese partisan group who becomes his closest friend. He soon finds himself falling in love with Lee, a recklessly brave Australian adventurer whom war has turned into an unsentimental nurse on horseback. Along the way Hogg befriends Madame Wang, an aristocratic survivor who has also been displaced by war, who helps the young Englishman, his friends and their sixty war orphans make their way across awesome (and rarely filmed) mountain and desert regions to a place of safety near the western end of the Great Wall of China.
The Children of Huang Shi 黄石的孩子 英语影评
Inspired by true events, THE CHILDREN OF HUANG SHI is a portrayal both sweeping and intimate of people who, thrown into an unexpected and desperate situation, discover their capacity for love and responsibility. It tells how a young Englishman, George Hogg came to lead sixty orphaned boys on an extraordinary journey of almost a thousand perilous miles across the snow-bound Liu Pan Shan mountains to safety on the edge of the Mongolian desert. And of how, in doing so, he came to understand the true meaning of courage. During his journey, Hogg learns to rely on the support of Chen, the leader of a Chinese partisan group who becomes his closest friend. He soon finds himself falling in love with Lee, a recklessly brave Australian adventurer whom war has turned into an unsentimental nurse on horseback. Along the way Hogg befriends Madame Wang, an aristocratic survivor who has also been displaced by war, who helps the young Englishman, his friends and their sixty war orphans make their way across awesome (and rarely filmed) mountain and desert regions to a place of safety near the western end of the Great Wall of China.
Fatal Move 夺帅 英语影评
Fatal Move 夺帅 英语影评
Fatal Move 夺帅 英语影评
The backdrop is Hong Kong and the focus is the violent world of the triads. Sammo Hung plays Lung, the notorious gang leader while Simon Yam takes on the role of his younger brother Yung. Things start to fall apart for Lung's mob when a drug deal goes wrong, a kidnap turns into a murder and a secret mission turns into a massacre.
It is all too familiar. When a movie revolves around a Hong Kong triad, one can expect an impressive body count and lots of gunfire with a blend of martial arts. A successful Hong Kong triad film doesn't necessarily need a good and original plot or outstanding performances by the cast. All it needs is nail biting car chases and beautifully choreographed martial arts. Alas, you'll get none of that in "Fatal Move".
Dennis Law is a familiar name in the Hong Kong movie business. He's a producer, writer and director with titles such as "Election" and "Love @ First Note" on his resume. With the success and experience of being part of "Election", one would assume that this film would follow in those footsteps. Unfortunately, Dennis Law took a step backwards and brings us what I can only describe as a 'fatal movie'. The film was filled with too many random subplots that the main theme was lost along the way. In the end, it becomes difficult to pinpoint the 'fatal moves' that kill them all.
As for the cast, I dare not say that it is an A-list one after that performance. Sammo Hung made it through 2 seasons of "Martial Law" but when it comes to the big screens it seems as if he has lost his mojo. Simon Yam, who by the way is one of the most sought after actors in Hong Kong, gave a mediocre performance that could have easily been done by any ordinary 'ah beng' gangster you see on the streets. It seems to be a trend for Hong Kong movies for the cast to completely over-do the acting part, making everything feel unnatural and forced.
When my ticket was stamped with the words "for 18 years and above" I was hoping to see some crafty fight scenes and a bit of gore. I'd like to believe that there were some relatively violent scenes that we the Malaysian audience just weren't allowed to see. The censorship board had a field day chopping this up just so viewers can try to piece the puzzles back together. The pieces that were left weren't exactly brutal either. We do get a massacre and a few standoffs with an outstanding body count but the victims mostly suffer from the average gunshot wound. Where's the pizzazz?
One must not forget that Sammo Hung is after all a talented martial arts expert. You can't have a movie with him without a heads up battle. Which leads us to the obligatory final battle, but one that isn't good against evil. All through the film, viewers will be waiting for this one scene and they will ultimately be disappointed. Sammo Hung could've probably pulled it off 10 years ago but nowadays, he looks like a pudgy grandpa doing some form of advanced yoga. And what's with the over-amplified sound effects? Throwing punches sounds like banging drums these days.
In all fairness, Hong Kong movies can't always be compared to Hollywood blockbusters. They have more misses than they do hits. "Fatal Move" manages to just sit comfortably on the fence, being neither good nor bad. But if you're looking for something to follow in the footsteps of "Infernal Affairs", I suggest you just watch "The Departed". "Fatal Move" should be left for those who are looking for mindless entertainment.
Fatal Move 夺帅 英语影评
The backdrop is Hong Kong and the focus is the violent world of the triads. Sammo Hung plays Lung, the notorious gang leader while Simon Yam takes on the role of his younger brother Yung. Things start to fall apart for Lung's mob when a drug deal goes wrong, a kidnap turns into a murder and a secret mission turns into a massacre.
It is all too familiar. When a movie revolves around a Hong Kong triad, one can expect an impressive body count and lots of gunfire with a blend of martial arts. A successful Hong Kong triad film doesn't necessarily need a good and original plot or outstanding performances by the cast. All it needs is nail biting car chases and beautifully choreographed martial arts. Alas, you'll get none of that in "Fatal Move".
Dennis Law is a familiar name in the Hong Kong movie business. He's a producer, writer and director with titles such as "Election" and "Love @ First Note" on his resume. With the success and experience of being part of "Election", one would assume that this film would follow in those footsteps. Unfortunately, Dennis Law took a step backwards and brings us what I can only describe as a 'fatal movie'. The film was filled with too many random subplots that the main theme was lost along the way. In the end, it becomes difficult to pinpoint the 'fatal moves' that kill them all.
As for the cast, I dare not say that it is an A-list one after that performance. Sammo Hung made it through 2 seasons of "Martial Law" but when it comes to the big screens it seems as if he has lost his mojo. Simon Yam, who by the way is one of the most sought after actors in Hong Kong, gave a mediocre performance that could have easily been done by any ordinary 'ah beng' gangster you see on the streets. It seems to be a trend for Hong Kong movies for the cast to completely over-do the acting part, making everything feel unnatural and forced.
When my ticket was stamped with the words "for 18 years and above" I was hoping to see some crafty fight scenes and a bit of gore. I'd like to believe that there were some relatively violent scenes that we the Malaysian audience just weren't allowed to see. The censorship board had a field day chopping this up just so viewers can try to piece the puzzles back together. The pieces that were left weren't exactly brutal either. We do get a massacre and a few standoffs with an outstanding body count but the victims mostly suffer from the average gunshot wound. Where's the pizzazz?
One must not forget that Sammo Hung is after all a talented martial arts expert. You can't have a movie with him without a heads up battle. Which leads us to the obligatory final battle, but one that isn't good against evil. All through the film, viewers will be waiting for this one scene and they will ultimately be disappointed. Sammo Hung could've probably pulled it off 10 years ago but nowadays, he looks like a pudgy grandpa doing some form of advanced yoga. And what's with the over-amplified sound effects? Throwing punches sounds like banging drums these days.
In all fairness, Hong Kong movies can't always be compared to Hollywood blockbusters. They have more misses than they do hits. "Fatal Move" manages to just sit comfortably on the fence, being neither good nor bad. But if you're looking for something to follow in the footsteps of "Infernal Affairs", I suggest you just watch "The Departed". "Fatal Move" should be left for those who are looking for mindless entertainment.
Kung Fu Dunk 大灌篮 英语影评
Kung Fu Dunk 大灌篮 英语影评
Kung Fu Dunk 大灌篮 英语影评
Kung Fu Dunk is a bubblegum movie designed to entertain viewers aged 17 and below. It is slick, colourful, energetic, superficial and a little silly. (If you're 21 and above, we suggest you stay away.)
Based on a Japanese manga, Jay Chou plays a lonely orphan raised in a kungfu school. When shrewd businessman Eric Tsang spots him shooting drink cans into a faraway bin with uncanny accuracy, he quickly recruits Jay to play varsity basketball at the local university.
Jay soon learns that there is more to basketball (and life) than simply shooting hoops. It's about focus and determination and camaraderie and sacrifice and tears... well, you get the picture.
To please its young target audience, everything has been kept very, very simple. Characters are one-note and somewhat cartoony. Predicaments are solved in ten minutes or less. And all the young leads have some sort of BGR problem: Jay can't get Charlene Choi to notice him. The team captain (Chen Bolin) can't get over a girl. The star player (Baron Chen) can't forget his dead ex-girlfriend.
Director Kevin Chu is smart enough to gives its young actors roles that are well suited to their personas. Mumbling lead actor Jay, for instance, doesn't have that much talking to do, showing his emotions instead through a wide array of quizzical expressions. It's actually, well, quite cute — but only because it's Jay.
Touted as the most expensive Taiwanese production ever, catch Kung Fu Dunk only if you have the mind and soul of a teenage boy.
Kung Fu Dunk 大灌篮 英语影评
Kung Fu Dunk is a bubblegum movie designed to entertain viewers aged 17 and below. It is slick, colourful, energetic, superficial and a little silly. (If you're 21 and above, we suggest you stay away.)
Based on a Japanese manga, Jay Chou plays a lonely orphan raised in a kungfu school. When shrewd businessman Eric Tsang spots him shooting drink cans into a faraway bin with uncanny accuracy, he quickly recruits Jay to play varsity basketball at the local university.
Jay soon learns that there is more to basketball (and life) than simply shooting hoops. It's about focus and determination and camaraderie and sacrifice and tears... well, you get the picture.
To please its young target audience, everything has been kept very, very simple. Characters are one-note and somewhat cartoony. Predicaments are solved in ten minutes or less. And all the young leads have some sort of BGR problem: Jay can't get Charlene Choi to notice him. The team captain (Chen Bolin) can't get over a girl. The star player (Baron Chen) can't forget his dead ex-girlfriend.
Director Kevin Chu is smart enough to gives its young actors roles that are well suited to their personas. Mumbling lead actor Jay, for instance, doesn't have that much talking to do, showing his emotions instead through a wide array of quizzical expressions. It's actually, well, quite cute — but only because it's Jay.
Touted as the most expensive Taiwanese production ever, catch Kung Fu Dunk only if you have the mind and soul of a teenage boy.
And the Spring Comes 立春 英文影评
And the Spring Comes 立春 英文影评
And the Spring Comes 立春 英文影评
A talented but unattractive woman in a provincial industrial city dreams of making it big in the Beijing opera world in "And the Spring Comes," top cinematographer Gu Changwei's respectable but lukewarm follow-up to his feature debut, Berlinale standout "Peacock." As in the earlier pic, Gu appears to have removed all transitional scenes, creating the sense of an episodic narrative populated by misfits who find contentment only when their dreams are shelved. Fest life is unlikely to generate much buzz, though a nuanced perf by Gu's wife, Jiang Wenli, was rewarded in Rome.
Not a sequel to "Peacock," as first reported, though also scripted by Li Qiang, "And the Spring Comes" opens with lovely shots of a traditional pagoda, expanding out to reveal its sore-thumb placement above a gray industrial landscape. Image is a nice metaphor for Wang Tsai-ling (Jiang), a voice teacher in the local school with a penchant for Western opera and an unfortunate skin condition. Though she lives in the same bunker-like housing as the factory workers, she holds herself far above her neighbors, boasting dishonestly of big-time Beijing connections.
Bumbling, Pushkin-quoting Zhou Yu (Wu Guohua) falls for Wang's voice and superior ways, though it's friend Huang Sibao (Li Guangjie) who hopes to use the homely teacher to get accepted to the Beijing Art Academy. Their temporary sojourn in Beijing is a predictable disaster, as Huang rejects Wang's amorous advances and Wang finds it impossible to get a foot in the door of any opera company.
Back home, humiliation continues in a scene both funny and sad, as Wang performs an Italian aria in an outdoor arts festival that has crowds ankling. Also publicly rejected is effeminate ballet dancer Mr. Hu (Jiao Gang), a self-described fishbone in the throats of the community for his swishy ways.
Further humiliations await until Wang accepts her fate as a mere provincial teacher and finds peace under limited horizons. Gu's strength unquestionably lies in his depiction of a small industrial city, colorless and cement-enclosed, where dreams are discouraged and individuality frowned upon. But there's little implied criticism, and by eliminating transitions, Gu turns Wang's story into a series of vignettes, as she and those she comes in contact with pass from one pipe dream to another. Populating the story with misfits also uncomfortably marginalizes their qualities and aspirations -- not only Wang's unappealing features and Hu's obvious homosexuality, but even the baldness of a young woman, Gao Beibei (Zhang Yao), who pretends to be dying of cancer so she'll have an edge at a voice competition.
Believably covered with unsightly acne, Jiang expertly captures Wang's puffed-up airs while remaining painfully conscious of her limitations. Her determination, however misguided, could be inspiring if Gu and Li made such desires feel worthy of support.
Scenes in the industrial city are generally lensed with natural light, and there's a sharp contrast between the dinginess of these cold boxes and the colorful bel canto gowns Wang dons to belt out Puccini. Vocals are dubbed by rising soprano You Hongfei.
And the Spring Comes 立春 英文影评
A talented but unattractive woman in a provincial industrial city dreams of making it big in the Beijing opera world in "And the Spring Comes," top cinematographer Gu Changwei's respectable but lukewarm follow-up to his feature debut, Berlinale standout "Peacock." As in the earlier pic, Gu appears to have removed all transitional scenes, creating the sense of an episodic narrative populated by misfits who find contentment only when their dreams are shelved. Fest life is unlikely to generate much buzz, though a nuanced perf by Gu's wife, Jiang Wenli, was rewarded in Rome.
Not a sequel to "Peacock," as first reported, though also scripted by Li Qiang, "And the Spring Comes" opens with lovely shots of a traditional pagoda, expanding out to reveal its sore-thumb placement above a gray industrial landscape. Image is a nice metaphor for Wang Tsai-ling (Jiang), a voice teacher in the local school with a penchant for Western opera and an unfortunate skin condition. Though she lives in the same bunker-like housing as the factory workers, she holds herself far above her neighbors, boasting dishonestly of big-time Beijing connections.
Bumbling, Pushkin-quoting Zhou Yu (Wu Guohua) falls for Wang's voice and superior ways, though it's friend Huang Sibao (Li Guangjie) who hopes to use the homely teacher to get accepted to the Beijing Art Academy. Their temporary sojourn in Beijing is a predictable disaster, as Huang rejects Wang's amorous advances and Wang finds it impossible to get a foot in the door of any opera company.
Back home, humiliation continues in a scene both funny and sad, as Wang performs an Italian aria in an outdoor arts festival that has crowds ankling. Also publicly rejected is effeminate ballet dancer Mr. Hu (Jiao Gang), a self-described fishbone in the throats of the community for his swishy ways.
Further humiliations await until Wang accepts her fate as a mere provincial teacher and finds peace under limited horizons. Gu's strength unquestionably lies in his depiction of a small industrial city, colorless and cement-enclosed, where dreams are discouraged and individuality frowned upon. But there's little implied criticism, and by eliminating transitions, Gu turns Wang's story into a series of vignettes, as she and those she comes in contact with pass from one pipe dream to another. Populating the story with misfits also uncomfortably marginalizes their qualities and aspirations -- not only Wang's unappealing features and Hu's obvious homosexuality, but even the baldness of a young woman, Gao Beibei (Zhang Yao), who pretends to be dying of cancer so she'll have an edge at a voice competition.
Believably covered with unsightly acne, Jiang expertly captures Wang's puffed-up airs while remaining painfully conscious of her limitations. Her determination, however misguided, could be inspiring if Gu and Li made such desires feel worthy of support.
Scenes in the industrial city are generally lensed with natural light, and there's a sharp contrast between the dinginess of these cold boxes and the colorful bel canto gowns Wang dons to belt out Puccini. Vocals are dubbed by rising soprano You Hongfei.
Cloverfield 苜蓿地 英文影评
Cloverfield 苜蓿地 英文影评
Cloverfield 苜蓿地 英文影评
It was only last month that Will Smith started up boogeyman patrol in Manhattan in “I Am Legend,” and yet here we go again with the end of the world, or at least some of the city’s most exclusive ZIP codes. This time, the annihilation comes courtesy of a reptilian creature with a slithering, smashing tail, multiple grabby appendages and an apparently insatiable appetite for destruction. At one point in “Cloverfield” you get a close, very personal look at that hungry mouth, which agape recalls that of the adult monster designed by H. R. Giger for the first “Alien,” though without any of the older beastie’s freakily sexualized menace or resonance.
Like “Cloverfield” itself, this new monster is nothing more than a blunt instrument designed to smash and grab without Freudian complexity or political critique, despite the tacky allusions to Sept. 11. The screams and the images of smoke billowing through the canyons of Lower Manhattan may make you think of the attack, and you may curse the filmmakers for their vulgarity, insensitivity or lack of imagination. (The director, Matt Reeves, lives in Los Angeles, as does the writer, Drew Goddard, and the movie’s star producer, J. J. Abrams.) But the film is too dumb to offend anything except your intelligence, and the monster does cut a satisfying swath through the cast, so your only complaint may be, What took it so long?
As it happens, “Cloverfield” clocks in at 84 minutes, a running time that includes the usual interminable final credits. The movie moves relatively fast, though it’s nowhere near as economical as its colossus, whose thunderous shrieks and fiery projectiles bring a downtown loft party to a merciful, abrupt end. The loft belongs to a blandly pretty young thing named Rob (Michael Stahl-David), who, on the eve of relocating to Japan for work, has been thrown a farewell party by some other blandly pretty young things. The names we’re meant to remember are those of Rob’s brother, Jason (Mike Vogel), and Jason’s insignificant other, Lily (Jessica Lucas); a bored, boring single, Marlena (Lizzy Caplan); and Rob’s nitwit buddy, Hud (T. J. Miller), who has been recruited to videotape the party.
“Cloverfield” is nominally a monster movie, but mostly it’s a feature-length gimmick. It opens with some official-looking United States government text claiming that the following images were retrieved from what was once known as Central Park. The big (or rather only) idea here is that almost everything we subsequently see is the presumably unedited video material shot by Hud, who, though initially reluctant to pick up the camera, develops a mania for documentation once the monster strikes. So consummate is his dedication to his version of cinéma vérité that he keeps the camera plugged to his eye even while he’s running through hailstorms of debris, trying to cross a fast-collapsing bridge and witnessing friends melt down, bleed out and even die.
For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought the filmmakers might be making a point about how the contemporary compulsion to record the world has dulled us to actual lived experience, including the suffering of others — you know, something about the simulacrum syndrome in the post-Godzilla age at the intersection of the camera eye with the narcissistic “I.” Certainly this straw-grasping seemed the most charitable way to explain characters whose lack of personality (“This is crazy, dude!”) is matched only by their incomprehensible stupidity. Smart as Tater Tots and just as differentiated, Rob and his ragtag crew behave like people who have never watched a monster movie or the genre-savvy “Scream” flicks or even an episode of “Lost” (Hello, Mr. Abrams!), much less experienced the real horrors of Sept. 11.
And, so, much like a character from a crummy movie, Rob hears from an estranged lover, Beth (Odette Yustman), who, after the attack, begs for help on her miraculously working cellphone. Against the odds and a crush of fleeing humanity, he tries to rescue her (unbelievably, ludicrously, the others tag along), which is meant to show what a good guy he is. But heroism without a fully realized hero proves as much a dead end as subjective camerawork that’s executed without a discernible subjectivity. Like too many big-studio productions, “Cloverfield” works as a showcase for impressively realistic-looking special effects, a realism that fails to extend to the scurrying humans whose fates are meant to invoke pity and fear but instead inspire yawns and contempt.
Rarely have I rooted for a monster with such enthusiasm.
Cloverfield 苜蓿地 英文影评
It was only last month that Will Smith started up boogeyman patrol in Manhattan in “I Am Legend,” and yet here we go again with the end of the world, or at least some of the city’s most exclusive ZIP codes. This time, the annihilation comes courtesy of a reptilian creature with a slithering, smashing tail, multiple grabby appendages and an apparently insatiable appetite for destruction. At one point in “Cloverfield” you get a close, very personal look at that hungry mouth, which agape recalls that of the adult monster designed by H. R. Giger for the first “Alien,” though without any of the older beastie’s freakily sexualized menace or resonance.
Like “Cloverfield” itself, this new monster is nothing more than a blunt instrument designed to smash and grab without Freudian complexity or political critique, despite the tacky allusions to Sept. 11. The screams and the images of smoke billowing through the canyons of Lower Manhattan may make you think of the attack, and you may curse the filmmakers for their vulgarity, insensitivity or lack of imagination. (The director, Matt Reeves, lives in Los Angeles, as does the writer, Drew Goddard, and the movie’s star producer, J. J. Abrams.) But the film is too dumb to offend anything except your intelligence, and the monster does cut a satisfying swath through the cast, so your only complaint may be, What took it so long?
As it happens, “Cloverfield” clocks in at 84 minutes, a running time that includes the usual interminable final credits. The movie moves relatively fast, though it’s nowhere near as economical as its colossus, whose thunderous shrieks and fiery projectiles bring a downtown loft party to a merciful, abrupt end. The loft belongs to a blandly pretty young thing named Rob (Michael Stahl-David), who, on the eve of relocating to Japan for work, has been thrown a farewell party by some other blandly pretty young things. The names we’re meant to remember are those of Rob’s brother, Jason (Mike Vogel), and Jason’s insignificant other, Lily (Jessica Lucas); a bored, boring single, Marlena (Lizzy Caplan); and Rob’s nitwit buddy, Hud (T. J. Miller), who has been recruited to videotape the party.
“Cloverfield” is nominally a monster movie, but mostly it’s a feature-length gimmick. It opens with some official-looking United States government text claiming that the following images were retrieved from what was once known as Central Park. The big (or rather only) idea here is that almost everything we subsequently see is the presumably unedited video material shot by Hud, who, though initially reluctant to pick up the camera, develops a mania for documentation once the monster strikes. So consummate is his dedication to his version of cinéma vérité that he keeps the camera plugged to his eye even while he’s running through hailstorms of debris, trying to cross a fast-collapsing bridge and witnessing friends melt down, bleed out and even die.
For a brief, hopeful moment, I thought the filmmakers might be making a point about how the contemporary compulsion to record the world has dulled us to actual lived experience, including the suffering of others — you know, something about the simulacrum syndrome in the post-Godzilla age at the intersection of the camera eye with the narcissistic “I.” Certainly this straw-grasping seemed the most charitable way to explain characters whose lack of personality (“This is crazy, dude!”) is matched only by their incomprehensible stupidity. Smart as Tater Tots and just as differentiated, Rob and his ragtag crew behave like people who have never watched a monster movie or the genre-savvy “Scream” flicks or even an episode of “Lost” (Hello, Mr. Abrams!), much less experienced the real horrors of Sept. 11.
And, so, much like a character from a crummy movie, Rob hears from an estranged lover, Beth (Odette Yustman), who, after the attack, begs for help on her miraculously working cellphone. Against the odds and a crush of fleeing humanity, he tries to rescue her (unbelievably, ludicrously, the others tag along), which is meant to show what a good guy he is. But heroism without a fully realized hero proves as much a dead end as subjective camerawork that’s executed without a discernible subjectivity. Like too many big-studio productions, “Cloverfield” works as a showcase for impressively realistic-looking special effects, a realism that fails to extend to the scurrying humans whose fates are meant to invoke pity and fear but instead inspire yawns and contempt.
Rarely have I rooted for a monster with such enthusiasm.
National Treasure 国家宝藏 英语影评
National Treasure 国家宝藏 英语影评
National Treasure 国家宝藏 英语影评
“National Treasure” is a summer movie released a few months too late. It’s one of those big action/goofball plot/popcorn movies that does well during the long, hot days of summer. Why it’s hitting theaters smack dab in the middle of what’s unofficially referred to as the Oscar-hopeful season is a bit of mystery. Not quite as big of a mystery as what made the filmmakers cast Diane Kruger as Nicolas Cage’s love interest (I like her but she’s way out of her league in this film), but a head-scratcher nonetheless.
Have you read “The Da Vinci Code?” If so, then take that plot, spin it around until the whirling feeling leaves you woozy, and then transplant the story to America.
Remove the logical progression of events from “The Da Vinci Code” and you’ve got “National Treasure.”
Nicolas Cage stars as Benjamin Franklin Gates, the latest offspring of a long line of wacko Gates men who believe the Freemasons and America’s founding fathers conspired to carry on a 1,000+ year old plan to conceal the world’s greatest collection of treasures. Believing no government should control the unimaginable wealth, the treasure’s whereabouts are so secret that only a couple of people on earth believe the thing even exists.
Among the few who believe in the treasure are Gates and his trusted sidekick/comic relief buddy, Riley (Justin Bartha), who join up with another firm believer, Ian Howe (Sean Bean). Howe’s a wealthy businessman who you just know is going to betray them the first chance he gets. That first chance comes early on in the movie when Howe and his minions leave Gates and his little buddy for dead. Now two separate groups with one common goal, the opposing forces figure out the next clue involves the original Declaration of Independence, and the race is on to see who can get their hands on the heavily-guarded document first.
The hunt for the treasure continues for two hours (in movie time), with Gates meeting and falling for Abigail Chase (Kruger), dodging bullets, keeping one step ahead of the FBI, and dragging his poor old dad (Jon Voight) into the mess.
Even though the plot is ludicrous, Nicolas Cage, Justin Bartha and Sean Bean manage to make “National Treasure” into a fairly amusing, leave-your-brain-at-the-door, outing. It may sound like I didn’t enjoy the movie from my description of the film, but I really did have a good time watching Cage and his cohorts race around chasing clues.
Cage is engaging and pulls off the mix of action star and intellectual thinker, which leads me to believe he might be right for “The Da Vinci Code” if Tom Hanks falls out of the picture. It seems like “National Treasure” is almost a 2-hour long audition tape for the much-anticipated film adaptation of Dan Brown’s bestseller. We don’t see enough of Sean Bean in “National Treasure” but, as usual, he’s good at playing the bad guy. Bartha’s a pleasant surprise. Last seen with Ben Affleck and J-Lo in the really bad “Gigli,” Bartha shows he can actually act when given even decent material. The only disappointment as far as casting goes is Diane Kruger. The model-turned-actress is pleasing to look at but is horribly out of place playing one of the top bosses at the National Archives.
“National Treasure’s” one of those movies you have to be in the right mood to see. If you can get past Diane Kruger’s ever-changing accent, the twisted plot, and an intrusive musical score, then “National Treasure’s” a decent escapist sort of film. Just don’t go in expecting to be wowed.
National Treasure 国家宝藏 英语影评
“National Treasure” is a summer movie released a few months too late. It’s one of those big action/goofball plot/popcorn movies that does well during the long, hot days of summer. Why it’s hitting theaters smack dab in the middle of what’s unofficially referred to as the Oscar-hopeful season is a bit of mystery. Not quite as big of a mystery as what made the filmmakers cast Diane Kruger as Nicolas Cage’s love interest (I like her but she’s way out of her league in this film), but a head-scratcher nonetheless.
Have you read “The Da Vinci Code?” If so, then take that plot, spin it around until the whirling feeling leaves you woozy, and then transplant the story to America.
Remove the logical progression of events from “The Da Vinci Code” and you’ve got “National Treasure.”
Nicolas Cage stars as Benjamin Franklin Gates, the latest offspring of a long line of wacko Gates men who believe the Freemasons and America’s founding fathers conspired to carry on a 1,000+ year old plan to conceal the world’s greatest collection of treasures. Believing no government should control the unimaginable wealth, the treasure’s whereabouts are so secret that only a couple of people on earth believe the thing even exists.
Among the few who believe in the treasure are Gates and his trusted sidekick/comic relief buddy, Riley (Justin Bartha), who join up with another firm believer, Ian Howe (Sean Bean). Howe’s a wealthy businessman who you just know is going to betray them the first chance he gets. That first chance comes early on in the movie when Howe and his minions leave Gates and his little buddy for dead. Now two separate groups with one common goal, the opposing forces figure out the next clue involves the original Declaration of Independence, and the race is on to see who can get their hands on the heavily-guarded document first.
The hunt for the treasure continues for two hours (in movie time), with Gates meeting and falling for Abigail Chase (Kruger), dodging bullets, keeping one step ahead of the FBI, and dragging his poor old dad (Jon Voight) into the mess.
Even though the plot is ludicrous, Nicolas Cage, Justin Bartha and Sean Bean manage to make “National Treasure” into a fairly amusing, leave-your-brain-at-the-door, outing. It may sound like I didn’t enjoy the movie from my description of the film, but I really did have a good time watching Cage and his cohorts race around chasing clues.
Cage is engaging and pulls off the mix of action star and intellectual thinker, which leads me to believe he might be right for “The Da Vinci Code” if Tom Hanks falls out of the picture. It seems like “National Treasure” is almost a 2-hour long audition tape for the much-anticipated film adaptation of Dan Brown’s bestseller. We don’t see enough of Sean Bean in “National Treasure” but, as usual, he’s good at playing the bad guy. Bartha’s a pleasant surprise. Last seen with Ben Affleck and J-Lo in the really bad “Gigli,” Bartha shows he can actually act when given even decent material. The only disappointment as far as casting goes is Diane Kruger. The model-turned-actress is pleasing to look at but is horribly out of place playing one of the top bosses at the National Archives.
“National Treasure’s” one of those movies you have to be in the right mood to see. If you can get past Diane Kruger’s ever-changing accent, the twisted plot, and an intrusive musical score, then “National Treasure’s” a decent escapist sort of film. Just don’t go in expecting to be wowed.
Wing Chun 咏春 英语影评
Wing Chun 咏春 英语影评
Wing Chun 咏春 英语影评
Wing Chun is a martial-arts film with an unusual feminist bent, inspired by a true historical figure. In 19th-century China, a pack of bandits attacks a remote village, attempting to kidnap a beautiful young widow named Charmy. However, they are foiled by Yim Wing Chun, a local tofu-shop owner who also happens to be a fearsome fighter; she defeats the thieves nearly single-handedly. This infuriates the evil bandit leader, who turns his full forces against the town in an effort to recapture Charmy. As if this weren't trouble enough, things become even tougher for Wing Chun when her childhood sweetheart, now also a martial-arts master, arrives in town after an absence of many years. On his return, he immediately falls in love with Charmy, mistaking her for Wing Chun -- and mistaking the real Wing Chun for a man. These farcical manueverings provide the backdrop for numerous fight sequences, which are filled with astoundingly acrobatic choreography skillfully performed by Hong Kong action star Michelle Yeoh. Especially notable is the final showdown between Wing Chun and the bandits, which proves once and for all it's not the size of the weapon, but the way that you use it. ~ Judd Blaise, All Movie Guide
More of an adorably campy romantic comedy than an action flick, the plot of Wing Chun bears little resemblance to the legend of its titular character, the erstwhile inventor of a kung-fu style for which she was named. Of course, there's plenty of kung-fu action, often mixed with slapstick, in the over-the-top style that made director Yuen Woo-Ping a household name among martial arts film fans. The plot, centered around Yim Wing Chun (Michelle Yeoh) and her hard-nosed, sharp-witted aunt (Yuen King-Tan), both residents of a village subject to frequent bandit raids, is firmly focused on the female characters as Wing Chun struggles against both the bandits and her feelings for childhood friend Leung Pok To (Donnie Yen, in an endearingly goofy performance). Catherine Hung Yan, as the beautiful widow Charmy, whom the bandits abduct, rounds out the principal cast, with a few more bad guys and love interests thrown in for good measure. There's also a brief appearance from Pei Pei Cheng as Wing Chun's kung-fu teacher. The entire cast is excellent; both comic and kung-fu timing are top-notch, and the film overall is a delightfully lighthearted romp, complete with happy ending.
Wing Chun 咏春 英语影评
Wing Chun is a martial-arts film with an unusual feminist bent, inspired by a true historical figure. In 19th-century China, a pack of bandits attacks a remote village, attempting to kidnap a beautiful young widow named Charmy. However, they are foiled by Yim Wing Chun, a local tofu-shop owner who also happens to be a fearsome fighter; she defeats the thieves nearly single-handedly. This infuriates the evil bandit leader, who turns his full forces against the town in an effort to recapture Charmy. As if this weren't trouble enough, things become even tougher for Wing Chun when her childhood sweetheart, now also a martial-arts master, arrives in town after an absence of many years. On his return, he immediately falls in love with Charmy, mistaking her for Wing Chun -- and mistaking the real Wing Chun for a man. These farcical manueverings provide the backdrop for numerous fight sequences, which are filled with astoundingly acrobatic choreography skillfully performed by Hong Kong action star Michelle Yeoh. Especially notable is the final showdown between Wing Chun and the bandits, which proves once and for all it's not the size of the weapon, but the way that you use it. ~ Judd Blaise, All Movie Guide
More of an adorably campy romantic comedy than an action flick, the plot of Wing Chun bears little resemblance to the legend of its titular character, the erstwhile inventor of a kung-fu style for which she was named. Of course, there's plenty of kung-fu action, often mixed with slapstick, in the over-the-top style that made director Yuen Woo-Ping a household name among martial arts film fans. The plot, centered around Yim Wing Chun (Michelle Yeoh) and her hard-nosed, sharp-witted aunt (Yuen King-Tan), both residents of a village subject to frequent bandit raids, is firmly focused on the female characters as Wing Chun struggles against both the bandits and her feelings for childhood friend Leung Pok To (Donnie Yen, in an endearingly goofy performance). Catherine Hung Yan, as the beautiful widow Charmy, whom the bandits abduct, rounds out the principal cast, with a few more bad guys and love interests thrown in for good measure. There's also a brief appearance from Pei Pei Cheng as Wing Chun's kung-fu teacher. The entire cast is excellent; both comic and kung-fu timing are top-notch, and the film overall is a delightfully lighthearted romp, complete with happy ending.
The Forbidden Kingdom 功夫之王 英语影评
The Forbidden Kingdom 功夫之王 英语影评
The Forbidden Kingdom 功夫之王 英语影评
martial arts epic with hints of Tolkien in which a Caucasian hero teams with Jackie Chan and Jet Li to save a kingdom, win the affection of a beauty, and gain the power to kick a homicidal bully's ass, The Forbidden Kingdom plays out like the wet dream of kung-fu fanboy nation. Except, however, that even rabid Hong Kong cineastes will likely be underwhelmed by director Rob Minkoff's family-friendly fusion of The Lord of the Rings, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and The Karate Kid. Defining this fantasy saga via movie references seems apt considering the film itself flaunts its celluloid lineage, with Chan's role as a sloshed martial arts master (a nod to Drunken Master) merely one of many allusions to the type of kung-fu and Wuxia classics whose posters adorn Boston high-schooler Jason's (Michael Angarano) bedroom wall.
Through his relationship with an aged pawnshop owner (Chan), Jason is transported back to ancient China by a legendary bowstaff that the teen must return to its rightful owner, an immortal Monkey King (Li) imprisoned in stone by the evil Jade War Lord (Collin Chou). He's aided in his quest by the imbibing Lu Yan (Chan again), the vengeful Golden Sparrow (Liu Yifei), and a mysterious monk (Li again), who do most of the heavy fighting while Jason ducks, runs, and acts freaked out until he's trained in the art of combat. That China's savior is a white American proves far less problematic than the fact that the white American in question is so unpleasantly goofy, Angarano giving the typically hammy Chan a run for his money in the exaggerated bug-eyes department.
Forbidden Kingdom serves up convoluted mythology with mild indifference, ostensibly because it recognizes that its sole objective is orchestrating marathon skirmishes featuring its stars. In that department, the film delivers, with the Hong Kong icons engaging in an introductory face-off that, despite choreographer Yuen Woo-Ping's increasingly hackneyed wirework techniques, has a dynamism aided by Minkoff's clean, robust staging. Chan and Li's maiden onscreen battle is appropriately titanic, but their long-awaited collaboration can't possibly be dubbed a success when it also, to its everlasting shame, features a scene in which one of them pees in the other's face.
The Forbidden Kingdom 功夫之王 英语影评
martial arts epic with hints of Tolkien in which a Caucasian hero teams with Jackie Chan and Jet Li to save a kingdom, win the affection of a beauty, and gain the power to kick a homicidal bully's ass, The Forbidden Kingdom plays out like the wet dream of kung-fu fanboy nation. Except, however, that even rabid Hong Kong cineastes will likely be underwhelmed by director Rob Minkoff's family-friendly fusion of The Lord of the Rings, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and The Karate Kid. Defining this fantasy saga via movie references seems apt considering the film itself flaunts its celluloid lineage, with Chan's role as a sloshed martial arts master (a nod to Drunken Master) merely one of many allusions to the type of kung-fu and Wuxia classics whose posters adorn Boston high-schooler Jason's (Michael Angarano) bedroom wall.
Through his relationship with an aged pawnshop owner (Chan), Jason is transported back to ancient China by a legendary bowstaff that the teen must return to its rightful owner, an immortal Monkey King (Li) imprisoned in stone by the evil Jade War Lord (Collin Chou). He's aided in his quest by the imbibing Lu Yan (Chan again), the vengeful Golden Sparrow (Liu Yifei), and a mysterious monk (Li again), who do most of the heavy fighting while Jason ducks, runs, and acts freaked out until he's trained in the art of combat. That China's savior is a white American proves far less problematic than the fact that the white American in question is so unpleasantly goofy, Angarano giving the typically hammy Chan a run for his money in the exaggerated bug-eyes department.
Forbidden Kingdom serves up convoluted mythology with mild indifference, ostensibly because it recognizes that its sole objective is orchestrating marathon skirmishes featuring its stars. In that department, the film delivers, with the Hong Kong icons engaging in an introductory face-off that, despite choreographer Yuen Woo-Ping's increasingly hackneyed wirework techniques, has a dynamism aided by Minkoff's clean, robust staging. Chan and Li's maiden onscreen battle is appropriately titanic, but their long-awaited collaboration can't possibly be dubbed a success when it also, to its everlasting shame, features a scene in which one of them pees in the other's face.
Happy End 快乐到死 英语影评
Happy End 快乐到死 英语影评
Happy End 快乐到死 英语影评
In the 1999 film "Happy End (Haepi endeu)", one of the more controversial films to come out of South Korea in recent years, a man learns that his wife is cheating on him and comes up with an extreme solution to the problem. And despite what is implied by the title, the film's resolution leaves the protagonist debating whether or not he has achieved his 'happy end', or merely substituted one torment with another.
In a scene that borders on soft-core pornography, the film's startling opening graphically depicts a vigorous lovemaking session between career woman Bo-ra (Jeon Do-yeon, seen recently in "I Wish I Had a Wife") and her lover Il-beom (Ju Jin-mo of "Musa"), a former college sweetheart. This is then sharply contrasted with Bo-ra's staid domestic life and her passionless marriage to the older Min-ki (Choi Min-shik of "Shiri" and "Failan"). An out-of-work former banker, Min-ki has had little luck and ambition in finding gainful employment, and prefers to spend his days reading romance novels in a used bookstore, or watching soap operas on television. Together, Bo-ra and Min-ki have a baby daughter, and raising her seems to be the only thing they have in common.
However, as the film unspools, Min-ki gradually pieces together the evidence of Bo-ra's infidelity, and is devastated by what he finds. And though the shiftless side of his character seems quietly resigned to live with what his wife has done, he is soon galvanized into taking far more aggressive measures when his wife's indiscretions threaten the well being of their infant daughter. Taking cues from the mystery books that have become the new staple of his reading habits, Min-ki meticulously plots and executes his uncompromising solution.
What is most striking about "Happy End" is how first-time writer/director Jung Ji-woo portrays each of the characters in the love triangle, who each have their reasons, both right and wrong, for what they do. Min-ki is shown initially in an unsympathetic light, as he seems content to enjoy a couch-potato lifestyle on his wife's salary. However, by the second half, he is perhaps the most sympathetic character on the screen, as he is reeling from the discovery of his wife's infidelity and abhorred by how her irresponsibility lands their daughter in the hospital. Similar mixed emotions arise out of Min-ki's radical response to the affair, which is gruesomely depicted. And even though Min-ki is successful in exacting his revenge, it is clear that Min-ki is haunted by what he has done and his expected sense of satisfaction remains elusive.
In contrast, Bo-ra's motivation for the affair seems credible in the film's first half as she seems trapped in a marriage with a shiftless husband who barely says a word to her. However, towards the second half, her character becomes far more complex, as she tries desperately to break off her relationship with Il-beom, leading to a tragic lapse in judgement. Finally, even the interloper, Il-beom, is given some credible motivation for wanting to stay with Bo-ra, depending on how audiences interpret a key conversation where he asserts that Bo-ra's daughter is in fact his.
As the cuckolded and quiet husband, Choi's performance is in contrast to his recent high-profile roles in "Shiri" and "Failan", yet no less effective. Popular actress Jeon, who starred opposite popular actors Han Suk-kyu ("Shiri") in the 1997 hit romance "The Contact (Cheob-sok)" and Sol Kyung-gu ("Peppermint Candy") in 2001's "I Wish I Had a Wife (Nado anaega isseosseumyeon johgessda)", casts off her usual warm and perky screen persona in her portrayal of the complex and sexually liberated Bo-ra. Finally, Jun is passable as Il-beom, with his portrayal of the strong and silent type a little too reminiscent of his similar work in the historical epic "Musa".
"Happy End" has developed quite an international following since its controversial run in South Korea in 1999. It has become a favorite programming piece at numerous film festivals around the world, was nominated for Best Asian Film at the recent Hong Kong Film Awards, and will soon be receiving a North American DVD release in June of this year. Though the subject matter and execution is rather disturbing, director Jung has created a compelling and suspenseful drama which uncompromisingly details an explosive situation for which there can never be a happy ending.
Happy End 快乐到死 英语影评
In the 1999 film "Happy End (Haepi endeu)", one of the more controversial films to come out of South Korea in recent years, a man learns that his wife is cheating on him and comes up with an extreme solution to the problem. And despite what is implied by the title, the film's resolution leaves the protagonist debating whether or not he has achieved his 'happy end', or merely substituted one torment with another.
In a scene that borders on soft-core pornography, the film's startling opening graphically depicts a vigorous lovemaking session between career woman Bo-ra (Jeon Do-yeon, seen recently in "I Wish I Had a Wife") and her lover Il-beom (Ju Jin-mo of "Musa"), a former college sweetheart. This is then sharply contrasted with Bo-ra's staid domestic life and her passionless marriage to the older Min-ki (Choi Min-shik of "Shiri" and "Failan"). An out-of-work former banker, Min-ki has had little luck and ambition in finding gainful employment, and prefers to spend his days reading romance novels in a used bookstore, or watching soap operas on television. Together, Bo-ra and Min-ki have a baby daughter, and raising her seems to be the only thing they have in common.
However, as the film unspools, Min-ki gradually pieces together the evidence of Bo-ra's infidelity, and is devastated by what he finds. And though the shiftless side of his character seems quietly resigned to live with what his wife has done, he is soon galvanized into taking far more aggressive measures when his wife's indiscretions threaten the well being of their infant daughter. Taking cues from the mystery books that have become the new staple of his reading habits, Min-ki meticulously plots and executes his uncompromising solution.
What is most striking about "Happy End" is how first-time writer/director Jung Ji-woo portrays each of the characters in the love triangle, who each have their reasons, both right and wrong, for what they do. Min-ki is shown initially in an unsympathetic light, as he seems content to enjoy a couch-potato lifestyle on his wife's salary. However, by the second half, he is perhaps the most sympathetic character on the screen, as he is reeling from the discovery of his wife's infidelity and abhorred by how her irresponsibility lands their daughter in the hospital. Similar mixed emotions arise out of Min-ki's radical response to the affair, which is gruesomely depicted. And even though Min-ki is successful in exacting his revenge, it is clear that Min-ki is haunted by what he has done and his expected sense of satisfaction remains elusive.
In contrast, Bo-ra's motivation for the affair seems credible in the film's first half as she seems trapped in a marriage with a shiftless husband who barely says a word to her. However, towards the second half, her character becomes far more complex, as she tries desperately to break off her relationship with Il-beom, leading to a tragic lapse in judgement. Finally, even the interloper, Il-beom, is given some credible motivation for wanting to stay with Bo-ra, depending on how audiences interpret a key conversation where he asserts that Bo-ra's daughter is in fact his.
As the cuckolded and quiet husband, Choi's performance is in contrast to his recent high-profile roles in "Shiri" and "Failan", yet no less effective. Popular actress Jeon, who starred opposite popular actors Han Suk-kyu ("Shiri") in the 1997 hit romance "The Contact (Cheob-sok)" and Sol Kyung-gu ("Peppermint Candy") in 2001's "I Wish I Had a Wife (Nado anaega isseosseumyeon johgessda)", casts off her usual warm and perky screen persona in her portrayal of the complex and sexually liberated Bo-ra. Finally, Jun is passable as Il-beom, with his portrayal of the strong and silent type a little too reminiscent of his similar work in the historical epic "Musa".
"Happy End" has developed quite an international following since its controversial run in South Korea in 1999. It has become a favorite programming piece at numerous film festivals around the world, was nominated for Best Asian Film at the recent Hong Kong Film Awards, and will soon be receiving a North American DVD release in June of this year. Though the subject matter and execution is rather disturbing, director Jung has created a compelling and suspenseful drama which uncompromisingly details an explosive situation for which there can never be a happy ending.
Letter From An Unknow Women一个陌生女人的来信英语影评
Letter From An Unknow Women一个陌生女人的来信英语影评
Letter From An Unknow Women 一个陌生女人的来信 英语影评
“Letter from an Unknown Woman” is mainland Chinese director/actress Xu Jinglei’s 2004 take on Austrian writer Stefan Zweig’s novella, which had already been adapted for the screen to great acclaim in 1948 by Max Ophuls. The film won Xu the Silver Seashell award for Best Director at the San Sebastian International Film Festival, adding to her growing reputation as one of China’s most interesting young filmmakers. Her profile was recently given another boost when she starred in Andrew Lau and Alan Mak’s big budget Hong Kong thriller “Confession of Pain”, a role which nicely reflects her career of balancing commercial and more artistic fare.
“Letter from an Unknown Woman” is Xu’s latest directorial effort following her 2002 debut “My Father and I”, and sees her relocating Zweig’s story from Vienna to Beijing in the 1930s. The film begins with a man opening a letter from a dying woman confessing her long unrequited love for him. The woman’s sad life then unfolds through a series of flashbacks which reveal not only her many encounters with the man, but also the hardships she has faced during this chaotic time of change.
Although this new version of Zweig’s tale sticks quite closely to the basic plot of the novella, it does feature a different set of characters, most notably the female protagonist herself, who very much takes centre stage, even more so than in Ophuls’ treatment. As such, the film is seen entirely from her perspective and is arguably more faithful to Zweig’s original text, albeit with a somewhat feminist slant. Here, there is very little in the way of actual romance, as Xu paints a picture of an obsessive young girl whose desire for her ever-distant beloved comes to resemble a quest not so much for him to love her as for him to recognise and acknowledge her existence. The fact that he never does so thus adds a sense of tragedy of a wasted life rather than a wasted love, something which lends the film a melancholy impression of loss throughout.
Although the film is perhaps not emotionally rewarding in a traditional sense, through eschewing what is essentially an unconvincing and male fantasy-oriented central gambit of asking the viewer to believe that the titular woman could honestly love an openly immoral man who consistently ignores and forgets her, Xu turns the story into an effective character study of a woman struggling to find her own identity.
Interestingly, “Letter from an Unknown Woman” actually has the look of a far more romantic film, with lush, soft visuals and slow, gliding camera work that evokes a feeling of nostalgia which is markedly at odds with the intrinsic nihilism of the narrative. Through this, Xu explores themes of memory and self-image, not only on an intimate, personal level, but nationally, as the film touches on conflicting feelings towards pre-communist life in China. Whilst the film is not as successful in this respect, and never really convinces as historical or social commentary, it does at least suggest a sense of critical ambition absent from the works of many other prominent Chinese directors, and adds a welcome layer of depth to the proceedings.
The film is not without its flaws, chiefly in that the various chronological leaps are often quite confusing, with the viewer being unsure of the characters and their motivations. Whilst this may be in keeping with the oddly naïve way in which the protagonist seems to see other people, it at times makes certain aspects of the plot quite obscure and gives the proceedings a cold and distant air. These shifts also lend the plot an episodic feel and the film almost as a series of set pieces which would have benefited from being more emotionally connected.
However, such criticisms are perhaps to be expected from what amounts to an artistically inclined, modernist update of a classic tale of romantic tragedy. Certainly, Xu manages to mine the text to tell her own, quite different story, one which is fascinating in its own right, and which succeeds if not in psychologically unravelling, then at least in poetically depicting the sad, lonely woman who spent her life in the shadows.
Letter From An Unknow Women 一个陌生女人的来信 英语影评
“Letter from an Unknown Woman” is mainland Chinese director/actress Xu Jinglei’s 2004 take on Austrian writer Stefan Zweig’s novella, which had already been adapted for the screen to great acclaim in 1948 by Max Ophuls. The film won Xu the Silver Seashell award for Best Director at the San Sebastian International Film Festival, adding to her growing reputation as one of China’s most interesting young filmmakers. Her profile was recently given another boost when she starred in Andrew Lau and Alan Mak’s big budget Hong Kong thriller “Confession of Pain”, a role which nicely reflects her career of balancing commercial and more artistic fare.
“Letter from an Unknown Woman” is Xu’s latest directorial effort following her 2002 debut “My Father and I”, and sees her relocating Zweig’s story from Vienna to Beijing in the 1930s. The film begins with a man opening a letter from a dying woman confessing her long unrequited love for him. The woman’s sad life then unfolds through a series of flashbacks which reveal not only her many encounters with the man, but also the hardships she has faced during this chaotic time of change.
Although this new version of Zweig’s tale sticks quite closely to the basic plot of the novella, it does feature a different set of characters, most notably the female protagonist herself, who very much takes centre stage, even more so than in Ophuls’ treatment. As such, the film is seen entirely from her perspective and is arguably more faithful to Zweig’s original text, albeit with a somewhat feminist slant. Here, there is very little in the way of actual romance, as Xu paints a picture of an obsessive young girl whose desire for her ever-distant beloved comes to resemble a quest not so much for him to love her as for him to recognise and acknowledge her existence. The fact that he never does so thus adds a sense of tragedy of a wasted life rather than a wasted love, something which lends the film a melancholy impression of loss throughout.
Although the film is perhaps not emotionally rewarding in a traditional sense, through eschewing what is essentially an unconvincing and male fantasy-oriented central gambit of asking the viewer to believe that the titular woman could honestly love an openly immoral man who consistently ignores and forgets her, Xu turns the story into an effective character study of a woman struggling to find her own identity.
Interestingly, “Letter from an Unknown Woman” actually has the look of a far more romantic film, with lush, soft visuals and slow, gliding camera work that evokes a feeling of nostalgia which is markedly at odds with the intrinsic nihilism of the narrative. Through this, Xu explores themes of memory and self-image, not only on an intimate, personal level, but nationally, as the film touches on conflicting feelings towards pre-communist life in China. Whilst the film is not as successful in this respect, and never really convinces as historical or social commentary, it does at least suggest a sense of critical ambition absent from the works of many other prominent Chinese directors, and adds a welcome layer of depth to the proceedings.
The film is not without its flaws, chiefly in that the various chronological leaps are often quite confusing, with the viewer being unsure of the characters and their motivations. Whilst this may be in keeping with the oddly naïve way in which the protagonist seems to see other people, it at times makes certain aspects of the plot quite obscure and gives the proceedings a cold and distant air. These shifts also lend the plot an episodic feel and the film almost as a series of set pieces which would have benefited from being more emotionally connected.
However, such criticisms are perhaps to be expected from what amounts to an artistically inclined, modernist update of a classic tale of romantic tragedy. Certainly, Xu manages to mine the text to tell her own, quite different story, one which is fascinating in its own right, and which succeeds if not in psychologically unravelling, then at least in poetically depicting the sad, lonely woman who spent her life in the shadows.
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