The wayward critics
Aug. 9th, 2007 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
imomusSometimes I'll see a couple of films by a director and find them interesting, even intriguing, but not really click onto his style, his voice. I won't even remember his name. Then suddenly I'll see a third film and it'll all fall into place. I'll decide he's one of the greats. I'll seek out his other work. I'll endorse him on Click Opera.
It happened last night when I watched Taiwanese director Tsai Ming-Liang's film The Wayward Cloud. Here's the French trailer (it was partly financed by the French) and further down you can find a YouTube clip of one of the dance numbers, in which a giant penis is bullied by a red bucket-hatted chorus line in a public lavatory.
I found the film amazingly bold, visually striking, and appealingly schizoid and irresponsible. Rather than a film with a plot and characters, Wayward Cloud is a sort of ultra-alienated romantic comedy set in a world of scummy porn production and projected into a sci-fi Taiwan suffering from drought and a watermelon glut. Its look and feel -- and the fact that it dispenses almost entirely with dialogue and plot -- made me think of early Wong Kar-Wai films. Before he blanded out, that is, "filmed frocks" and fell out with Chris Doyle -- whose shabby apartments, low angles and wide shots are echoed and bettered in the Taiwanese film. The incongruous musical numbers reminded me of Lars Von Trier's Dancer in the Dark -- but without the annoyingly manipulative melodrama they bisect.
At the Edinburgh Festival in 1998 I saw my first Tsai Ming-Liang film, and raved on my website about "The Hole, a great film from Taiwan about a man who spies on the woman in the apartment downstairs when the plumber drills a hole in his floor. It's raining heavily throughout the film, and the man puts first just his eye to the hole, but then later sticks his arm and his leg through, and eventually widens it and pulls the woman out. They both catch a virus which turns people into insects, making them scuttle under sacks of rice and avoid the light, so I suppose it was a tragedy."
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After that -- in New York -- I saw What Time Is It There?, which I was less impressed by. Perhaps it was too dark and slow. But Wayward Cloud has really won me over. It simply felt very daring and very fresh. I loved how the characters didn't speak, but communicated through choreographies either of affectless sex or languid apathy. It made me feel as if... well, as if the art film tradition is alive and well in Asia, even if proper auteurist directors in Europe are dropping like flies.
In an interview with Yale University's Wake magazine, TML makes it very clear that he's opposed to Hollywood and formulaic genre films:
"I was determined to detach myself from commercial filmmaking. I think it's important for us to realize where our values lie, only if you understand your own work very clearly can you understand where you are... I'm trying very hard to combat [the mainstream], otherwise we will only have Hollywood and McDonald's in this world. Otherwise we'd only have genre films; film would only be one thing."
Hollywood feels the same way about TML; its Bible, Variety, recommends Wayward Cloud to "gay auds in search of campy exotica... there's not much of a silver lining for anyone else in this painfully jokey paean to social alienation and frantic masturbation, jazzed up with a handful of musical numbers. Largely ditching his moody, ultra-contemplative style in favor of shock sexual content, pic spins a slight story between a young porno actor and neurotic museum attendant into an initially entertaining but finally tiresome hymn to self-absorption and misogyny."
"This is the least American film imagineable," I thought as I watched Wayward Cloud. I wondered how US critics would find ways to dismiss it; "misogyny" seems to be the preferred method, though when that's coupled with "campy" it's clearly code for "too gay". Is the film against women? I don't get that impression at all. Is it informed by homo-vision? Maybe. TML is probably gay ("openly", says his Wikipedia entry). Certainly the hetero sex is made to look foolish and futile, and TML tells Wake "I want to express the failure of erotic desire to be realized in contemporary urban space". I suspect that the Variety critic is attempting to pass off his own dislike of women and gay people as, somehow, progressive; something of an Anglo vice, that.
But although the film -- heavily decorated, like all TML films, with gongs at the Venice and Berlin film festivals -- remains unreleased on the commercial circuit in the US, some Americans appreciated it. The Brooklyn Rail, for instance, wrote an intelligent appreciation. Just across the East River, though, the Village Voice was disgusted: "Wayward Cloud fails as allegory, human story, anti-porn screed, postmodern musical, and even formal delight... Tsai's emptied-out aesthetic has never felt so empty, his mannerisms so pointlessly mannered".
Britain was only marginally less hostile. "This is a striking film in which the director demonstrates great technical accomplishment, but it is disconcerting to see him abandon the gentleness and charm of his previous films for the cul-de-sac of hardcore porn, to which the movie's attitude seems, in any case, affectless and blank. It may be nothing more than a virtuoso exercise in provocation and style," said Peter Bradshaw in The Guardian.
Britain's DVD Times was even more disparaging: "Tsai Ming-Liang will surely continue to make his little experimental films about the human condition and all that jazz. If he feels that melons really are the only way he can express things without actually saying it then great. There’s no denying that he has a great visual eye and strong sense of composition and colour, it just seems a shame to waste that in favour of more pretentious oversights that only make the film buckle under its own pressure. Yet I find myself frustrated in the end because a part of me actually liked what I saw; I chuckled along with some of the gags, I loved its visual display and the main characters were very likeable. If it had just taken a different route instead of poncing about then I may have had a whole lot more nice things to say about it."
Ah, poncing about! Right you are, guv! (No wonder Britain has fewer and fewer art screens and almost no subtitled films on network TV any more. It's all "poncing about", innit? Channel fogbound, world isolated.)
But a director's true worth is often measured by his influence on younger filmmakers rather than on critics. "You know, I bet Joji Koyama really loves Tsai's films," I remarked to Hisae as the closing titles rolled. "Actually," she said, "we watched a DVD of his the day before we started shooting From Nose To Mouth."
It happened last night when I watched Taiwanese director Tsai Ming-Liang's film The Wayward Cloud. Here's the French trailer (it was partly financed by the French) and further down you can find a YouTube clip of one of the dance numbers, in which a giant penis is bullied by a red bucket-hatted chorus line in a public lavatory.I found the film amazingly bold, visually striking, and appealingly schizoid and irresponsible. Rather than a film with a plot and characters, Wayward Cloud is a sort of ultra-alienated romantic comedy set in a world of scummy porn production and projected into a sci-fi Taiwan suffering from drought and a watermelon glut. Its look and feel -- and the fact that it dispenses almost entirely with dialogue and plot -- made me think of early Wong Kar-Wai films. Before he blanded out, that is, "filmed frocks" and fell out with Chris Doyle -- whose shabby apartments, low angles and wide shots are echoed and bettered in the Taiwanese film. The incongruous musical numbers reminded me of Lars Von Trier's Dancer in the Dark -- but without the annoyingly manipulative melodrama they bisect.
At the Edinburgh Festival in 1998 I saw my first Tsai Ming-Liang film, and raved on my website about "The Hole, a great film from Taiwan about a man who spies on the woman in the apartment downstairs when the plumber drills a hole in his floor. It's raining heavily throughout the film, and the man puts first just his eye to the hole, but then later sticks his arm and his leg through, and eventually widens it and pulls the woman out. They both catch a virus which turns people into insects, making them scuttle under sacks of rice and avoid the light, so I suppose it was a tragedy."
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After that -- in New York -- I saw What Time Is It There?, which I was less impressed by. Perhaps it was too dark and slow. But Wayward Cloud has really won me over. It simply felt very daring and very fresh. I loved how the characters didn't speak, but communicated through choreographies either of affectless sex or languid apathy. It made me feel as if... well, as if the art film tradition is alive and well in Asia, even if proper auteurist directors in Europe are dropping like flies.
In an interview with Yale University's Wake magazine, TML makes it very clear that he's opposed to Hollywood and formulaic genre films:
"I was determined to detach myself from commercial filmmaking. I think it's important for us to realize where our values lie, only if you understand your own work very clearly can you understand where you are... I'm trying very hard to combat [the mainstream], otherwise we will only have Hollywood and McDonald's in this world. Otherwise we'd only have genre films; film would only be one thing."
Hollywood feels the same way about TML; its Bible, Variety, recommends Wayward Cloud to "gay auds in search of campy exotica... there's not much of a silver lining for anyone else in this painfully jokey paean to social alienation and frantic masturbation, jazzed up with a handful of musical numbers. Largely ditching his moody, ultra-contemplative style in favor of shock sexual content, pic spins a slight story between a young porno actor and neurotic museum attendant into an initially entertaining but finally tiresome hymn to self-absorption and misogyny."
"This is the least American film imagineable," I thought as I watched Wayward Cloud. I wondered how US critics would find ways to dismiss it; "misogyny" seems to be the preferred method, though when that's coupled with "campy" it's clearly code for "too gay". Is the film against women? I don't get that impression at all. Is it informed by homo-vision? Maybe. TML is probably gay ("openly", says his Wikipedia entry). Certainly the hetero sex is made to look foolish and futile, and TML tells Wake "I want to express the failure of erotic desire to be realized in contemporary urban space". I suspect that the Variety critic is attempting to pass off his own dislike of women and gay people as, somehow, progressive; something of an Anglo vice, that.
But although the film -- heavily decorated, like all TML films, with gongs at the Venice and Berlin film festivals -- remains unreleased on the commercial circuit in the US, some Americans appreciated it. The Brooklyn Rail, for instance, wrote an intelligent appreciation. Just across the East River, though, the Village Voice was disgusted: "Wayward Cloud fails as allegory, human story, anti-porn screed, postmodern musical, and even formal delight... Tsai's emptied-out aesthetic has never felt so empty, his mannerisms so pointlessly mannered".
Britain was only marginally less hostile. "This is a striking film in which the director demonstrates great technical accomplishment, but it is disconcerting to see him abandon the gentleness and charm of his previous films for the cul-de-sac of hardcore porn, to which the movie's attitude seems, in any case, affectless and blank. It may be nothing more than a virtuoso exercise in provocation and style," said Peter Bradshaw in The Guardian.
Britain's DVD Times was even more disparaging: "Tsai Ming-Liang will surely continue to make his little experimental films about the human condition and all that jazz. If he feels that melons really are the only way he can express things without actually saying it then great. There’s no denying that he has a great visual eye and strong sense of composition and colour, it just seems a shame to waste that in favour of more pretentious oversights that only make the film buckle under its own pressure. Yet I find myself frustrated in the end because a part of me actually liked what I saw; I chuckled along with some of the gags, I loved its visual display and the main characters were very likeable. If it had just taken a different route instead of poncing about then I may have had a whole lot more nice things to say about it."
Ah, poncing about! Right you are, guv! (No wonder Britain has fewer and fewer art screens and almost no subtitled films on network TV any more. It's all "poncing about", innit? Channel fogbound, world isolated.)
But a director's true worth is often measured by his influence on younger filmmakers rather than on critics. "You know, I bet Joji Koyama really loves Tsai's films," I remarked to Hisae as the closing titles rolled. "Actually," she said, "we watched a DVD of his the day before we started shooting From Nose To Mouth."
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-09 03:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-09 04:40 pm (UTC)What I mean to say is, the film isn't really a strictly Christian allegory. But of course, you know that.