
Yi Yi (15.)
Directed by Edward Yang. 2000.
Starring Nien-Jen Wu, Elaine Jin, Issey Ogata, Kelly Lee, Jonathan Chang, Hsi-Sheng Chen, Su-Yun Ko. 173 mins. Released on Blu-ray as part of the Criterion Collection.
The three-hour Taiwanese family drama is a daunting prospect, even if it is a three-hour Taiwanese family drama reckoned to be one of the greatest movies of the 21st century by film critics. (Film critics, what do they know anyway?) So I started the film with a certain apprehension and scepticism. It opens with a wedding and within a few minutes, I knew that it would live up to its reputation. Not through any particular fancy pieces of direction but because almost instantly I was buried in these people's lives.
Yang's great gift is knowing that the drama isn't in the drama. Centring on the extended family of NJ (Nien-Jen Wu) the plot is full of old soap opera faithfuls: a businessman trying to keep his company afloat, meeting up with an old flame, awkward first loves, the feckless brother-in-law who's always in debt, a grandmother in a coma after a stroke, a suicide attempt. Yang though is interested in something beyond how these various stories will turn out. Often he will shoot encounters, confrontations and meetings from a distance, frequently from the other side of a cafe window. We can hear what is being said but the direction wants us to focus on something beyond the immediate narrative.
A film about people is reliant on its actors and naturalistic performances, and at the heart of the film are three performers who win your heart. The first two are NJ's children. Kelly Lee is Ting Ting, his teenage daughter, so heartbreakingly gawky and uncertain, and yet so innocent. Jonathan Chang is the nine-year-old son. The moment at the opening wedding sequence where he is being picked on by some girls around his own age is probably the moment the film clicks with audiences. He's at the heart of the film, is used to introduce and explore the film's major themes, but is usually off in his own little world, away from the main thrust of events. Like his sister, he seems to have no defence mechanisms against the world. They are both a little overwhelmed by it all.
NJ is the film though. Nien-Jen Wu is a short man with a crumpled face, a man destined to play to gangsters – there's a bit of the Bogart or Cagney to him. In this film though he is the figure of integrity. His business colleagues see him as the man who cannot lie, the one clients will trust. When they abuse that trust, his sense of betrayal is uncommonly powerful, you really feel it,
In fact, you really feel everything in this film. Not in any kind three hankies way but in the sense of being totally involved. Yang's approach suggests he wants us to look more at the wood than the trees, but ironically you identify more intensely with the characters than you would in a more focused drama.
Directed by Edward Yang. 2000.
Starring Nien-Jen Wu, Elaine Jin, Issey Ogata, Kelly Lee, Jonathan Chang, Hsi-Sheng Chen, Su-Yun Ko. 173 mins. Released on Blu-ray as part of the Criterion Collection.
The three-hour Taiwanese family drama is a daunting prospect, even if it is a three-hour Taiwanese family drama reckoned to be one of the greatest movies of the 21st century by film critics. (Film critics, what do they know anyway?) So I started the film with a certain apprehension and scepticism. It opens with a wedding and within a few minutes, I knew that it would live up to its reputation. Not through any particular fancy pieces of direction but because almost instantly I was buried in these people's lives.
Yang's great gift is knowing that the drama isn't in the drama. Centring on the extended family of NJ (Nien-Jen Wu) the plot is full of old soap opera faithfuls: a businessman trying to keep his company afloat, meeting up with an old flame, awkward first loves, the feckless brother-in-law who's always in debt, a grandmother in a coma after a stroke, a suicide attempt. Yang though is interested in something beyond how these various stories will turn out. Often he will shoot encounters, confrontations and meetings from a distance, frequently from the other side of a cafe window. We can hear what is being said but the direction wants us to focus on something beyond the immediate narrative.
A film about people is reliant on its actors and naturalistic performances, and at the heart of the film are three performers who win your heart. The first two are NJ's children. Kelly Lee is Ting Ting, his teenage daughter, so heartbreakingly gawky and uncertain, and yet so innocent. Jonathan Chang is the nine-year-old son. The moment at the opening wedding sequence where he is being picked on by some girls around his own age is probably the moment the film clicks with audiences. He's at the heart of the film, is used to introduce and explore the film's major themes, but is usually off in his own little world, away from the main thrust of events. Like his sister, he seems to have no defence mechanisms against the world. They are both a little overwhelmed by it all.
NJ is the film though. Nien-Jen Wu is a short man with a crumpled face, a man destined to play to gangsters – there's a bit of the Bogart or Cagney to him. In this film though he is the figure of integrity. His business colleagues see him as the man who cannot lie, the one clients will trust. When they abuse that trust, his sense of betrayal is uncommonly powerful, you really feel it,
In fact, you really feel everything in this film. Not in any kind three hankies way but in the sense of being totally involved. Yang's approach suggests he wants us to look more at the wood than the trees, but ironically you identify more intensely with the characters than you would in a more focused drama.