All My Sisters focuses for the most part of on two young women who happen to be the director's nieces (Film review)

  

Advertising for the 50th Hong Kong International 

Film Festival hanging on the railings of an overhead bridge  

 

All My Sisters (Austria-France-Germany-Iran, 2025) 

- Massoud Bakshi, director and co-producer (with five others)

- Part of the HKIFF's Documentary Competition program 

 

The first film of the 50th Hong Kong International Film Festival that I viewed 18 films ago was Woman and Child, an Iranian cinematic offering.  The final film of those I chose to watch also hails from Iran.  (All My Sisters is officially listed as four country co-production but is very recognizably an Iranian work.)  

 

To some extent, this is not something that's extraordinary as the Hong Kong International Festival has long programmed offerings from that Middle Eastern country (and, in fact, I'd go so far as to say that it's been a big champion of Jafar Panahi over the years.)  At the same time though, I figure this is also a reflection of Iran having been in the news in recent months (even before the Iran-USA War commenced); and the focus on Iranian women in the films (I think also of Past Future Continuous) selected for this edition of the HKIFF reflecting this.

 

Of course this is not to say that the likes of All My Sisters got selected by the Hong Kong International Film Festival as a "pity vote".  Because it genuinely is an interesting documentary work; one that is the result of filmmaker Massoud Bakshi training his camera on his two nieces for a couple of decades or so and then putting together home videos that, individually, can seem rather ordinary but collectively make for an interesting portrait of two sisters growing up and coming of age in Tehran under the rule of the Mullahs.

 

When we first see Mahya and Zahra in All My Sisters, they are sans hijab as they are still young -- and, as Massoud Bakshi stresses, in the company of family.  Even while it's clear that they are living in Iran, they still can seem like generic carefree preteens similar to girls in their age group in various other parts of the world as they happily listen to what's emanating from cassette players, playing with Barbies at home, and swinging on equipment in public playgrounds.

 

But at the first sign of puberty, the headscarves get put on.  Also, their religious grandmother starts trying to get them more interested in the Quran and Islam in general.  And there is a distinct and growing sense that their lives will be more restricted and less carefree.  (It would have been interesting for there to have been a parallel coverage of Mahya and Zahra's male contemporaries.  But the glimpses we see of the men as well as boys, who can go about their lives with much less covering, already says quite a bit.)

 

Something that is stressed more than once in All My Sisters is that what's shown in the film is shown with the consent of Mahya and Zahra.  Which makes it really surprising, then, that we see them being among the Iranians who take part in the "Women, Life, Freedom" protests.

 

At the same time, this helps makes the title of the film make sense.  In that, for a good part of it, I thought it would have been more appropriately entitled "My Two Nieces".  But when Mahya and Zahra are depicted and looked upon as representative Iranian women, than the chosen title of All My Sisters makes quite the political statement about Iranian women and society as a while indeed.

 

My rating for this film: 7.         

Sorrows and Joys of a Middle-Aged Man is a film older than the People's Republic of China! (Film review)

  

I saw these ticketing machines at the HKIFF venues I went to

but I didn't actually see them being used that much (as my

sense is that most fest goers buy their tickets (way) in advance)! 

 

Sorrows and Joys of a Middle-Aged Man (China, 1949)

- Sang Hu, director 

- Starring: Shi Hui, Zhu Jiachen, Han Fei, Li Huanqing 

- Part of the HKIFF's Chinese-language Restored Classics program 

 

When I saw that the year that this film (whose 4K restoration was screened at this year's Hong Kong International Film Festival) was made, I wondered if it was a pre- or post-Chinese Communist Revolution offering.  If it was the latter, I would not have elected to view it -- as I'm not a fan of Chinese propaganda movies.  However, it turned out to be the former -- and not only that but star a man who ended up being a victim of the Communists' Anti-Rightist Campaign that are officially stated to have involved the political persecution of more than 550,000 individuals (and unofficial estimates rise up to between 1 to 2 million).

 

One of the most highly regarded film folks of the "Second Golden Age" of Chinese Cinema, Shi Hui, plays Chen Shaochang, a middle-aged school principal who is seen visiting his beloved wife's grave on Ching Ming (Grave-Sweeping Day) with his three children.  Enough years have passed since their mother's death that the three children don't seem to take a visit to pay respects to their deceased mother all that seriously.  In contrast, Minhua, the daughter of a friend of his, caught his attention as a result of her loudly weeping at her mother's grave nearby.

 

To a large extent, Shaochang's sorrows can be traced less to his having prematurely lost his wife and more to the actions of his children, especially after they grow into adulthood.  In particular, the eldest of his children, Jianzhong (essayed as an adult by Han Fei), turns out to be quite the piece of work. An ambitious banker who marries his boss' elder daughter (played by Li Huanqing), he seeks to live in the luxurious style that he thinks is more befitting of a wealthy individual than a humble school principal or his son -- and this includes not only doing such as moving into a mansion but also making his father retire from his respectable but low paying position at the elementary school he founded.

 

At this point, I was thinking that Sorrows and Joys of a Middle-Aged Man seemed to be a film the Communists would approve of; what with its taking the side of the humble, poorer man rather than that of the rich folks in the story.  At the same time, far from being an entirely serious work, the mildly satirical movie also has some light-hearted moments and quirky takes that make it so that this (re)viewer didn't feel like it was trying to be over-ideological and -moralistic.  Also, when seeing Shaochan seeking to battle others to try to get onto over-crowded public transport, one may well see Jianzhong's point about how it's unbecoming for his father to regularly do this!

 

As a comedic montage showed though, Shaochang was not deriving much joy from taking up the hobbies (among them calligraphy, stamp-collecting and birdwatching!) that retired, older folks were supposed to enjoy.  So, clearly, that had to come from elsewhere; and included seeing how, despite her sad childhood made sadder by having a step-mother who bullied her, Minhua (portrayed as an adult by Zhu Jiachen -- and who, in reality, was only 9 years older than Shi Hui!) managed to grow into a lovely young woman who became a teacher at Shaochang's school and then his successor as principal.

 

There also are twists in the third act and coda of this move that give Shaochang great joy.  Although rather predictable, they also can shock one another level -- in that they are the sort of things that might not be approved of so much these days but make more sense back when the film was made!      

 

On a historical/cultural note: it's worth noting the choices of life partner that the Father of Modern China, Sun Yat-sen, made -- and also the love interests of this movie's (un-credited/supposed) scriptwriter, Eileen Chang.  On a related cultural note: it seems (then) that generation gaps between parents and their children may loom large but less so those between non-relatives, even a young person and someone of the same generation as their parents!

 

My rating for this film: 8.     

The Ozu Diaries is a Yazujiro Ozu documentary for his fans (Film review)

Scene in Tokyo three years ago -- the year of the

120th anniversary of Yazujiro Ozu's birth

 

The Ozu Diaries (U.S.A., 2025)

-  Daniel Raim, director-scriptwriter

- Part of the HKIFF's Filmmakers and Filmmaking program 

 

As I mentioned in a previous blog post, there are fewer Japanese films than usual being screened at the Hong Kong International Film Festival this year.  But as it turned out, I've viewed the same amount of documentaries about Japanese subjects at the 50th HKIFF as I have Japanese films (which also included anime work The Lost Blossom along with the live action Meets the World).  

 

First up was Noh documentary The Path of Soul.  And then there's The Ozu Diaries, American filmmaker Daniel Raim's documentary about the late, great Yasujiro Ozu -- mainly in the Japanese auteur's own words (taken from his private journals but also letters) but supplemented by archival interviews and recollections by those who knew him (notably, Kinuyo Tanaka, the star of a number of his early works, scriptwriter Kogo Noda, child actor Tomio Aoki and Ozu's granddaughter, Akiko Ozu), and reflections on Ozu's works by Kiroshi Kurosawa, Wim Wenders, Luc Dardenne and Tsai Ming Liang.

 

Of the quartet of directors interviewed for the documentary, my sense is that the main contributions of the three non-Japanese ones was to emphasize Ozu's international influence and reputation.  However, I found it interesting and amusing to hear Kiyoshi Kurosawa talk about how he personally "discovered" the films of Ozu -- a director out of fashion at the time that the younger Japanese filmmaker decided to give Ozu's films a watch, beginning with the later, color talkies (rather than chronologically, with Ozu's silent black and white works).

 

In contrast, much appreciated colour along with insights were added by the inclusion of the interviews of those who had worked with Ozu; and I really liked that their recollections are of him as a person, not just a director.  Among other things, The Ozu Diaries reveals that he was a man who loved his sake, to dance and laugh, had Western as well as traditional Japanese ways about him, and who cared very much for -- and laughed a lot in the company of -- his mother. 

 

The Ozu Diaries covers a lot of ground, and even features excerpts from his diaries along with photographs and sketches from the time he spent as a conscripted soldier in Manchuria and Singapore.  It is worth noting though that Ozu expressly forbade the publication of at least one of his diaries from the war years.  And I do get the sense that Daniel Raim erred on the side of caution in terms of what he decided to include from those periods of Ozu's life in this documentary.  

 

Consequently, those looking for dirt to smear Ozu won't find it in this documentary by someone who surely ranks as a fan of the Japanese auteur.  Which, frankly, is a situation I think the vast majority of people attracted to go watch a documentary about Ozu would prefer.  For, after all, many cinephiles are attracted to the films of Ozu for their great humanity -- which often comes with far more doses of humour than those who still have yet to discover his works (some clips from which -- including home movies! -- are included in this documentary) realise.   

 

My rating for this film: 7.5   

How great but also sad it is that Cageman (Hong Kong, 1992) is so very relevant and relatable 34 years on! (Film review)

 

The now 81-year-old -- but still very lively! --  Teddy Robin Kwan 

was the guest of honor at the Hong Kong International 

Film Festival screening of the restored version of Cageman 

 

Cageman (Hong Kong, 1992)

- Jacob Cheung, director and co-scriptwriter (with Ng Chong-chau and Yank Wong)

- Starring: Michael Lee, Roy Chiao, Teddy Robin Kwan, Victor Wong, Ku Feng, Liu Kai-chi, Wong Ka-kui, Lau Shun, etc.

- Part of the HKIFF's Chinese-language Restored Classics program 

 

Cageman is a film I've known about but put off viewing for decades.  It's not that I doubted that it was good.  After all, it was named Best Film -- and won in three other categories, including Best Director for Jacob Cheung -- at the 12th Hong Kong Film Awards, a very competitive year in view of other Hong Kong films made and released in 1992 including Centre-Stage, Swordsman II, and Once Upon a Time in China II.   

 

But it being a drama about people who live in cage homes -- which still exist in Hong Kong more than 30 years on, more than by the way -- makes for it having a reputation for not being easy to watch.  Also, there has not been good home video versions of it available for decades now.  Something that hopefully will be remedied in the near future now that there's a 4k restored version of it: which had its first ever public screening earlier this week; and at which one of its cast members, Teddy Robin Kwan, was the guest of honour.

 

And while director-co-scriptwriter Jacob Cheung was unable to attend the screening, he recorded a video message that was played before the start of this cinematic treasure of a film during which he sadly noted how many members of the cast are no longer with us (RIP, Michael Lee, Roy Chiao, Victor Wong, Ku Feng and Lau Shun, among others; and also the two youngest stars, Wong Ka-kui and Liu Kai-chi). On a happier note, Cheung recounted how he was so pleased about Cageman having been received positively upon its original release -- and that the award that gave him the most satisfaction was that for Best Ensemble received in Singapore.

 

After viewing this deservedly well-regarded offering, I understand why: as Cageman has an incredible cast, fully deserving of great acclaim, who infused their characters with humanity -- and, at times, a surprising amount of good humor -- as well as worked together very well. Michael Lee was incredibly watchable as the elderly but spritely "7-11", who runs a grocery within the cage home complex with the help of the more physically mobile "Sissy" (portrayed with great empathy by the late Chinese-American actor Victor Wong).

 

Roy Chiao anchors the film as "Fatso", the manager of sorts of the cage homes who also lives in one along with his intellectually disabled son, Sam (essayed by Liu Kai-chi, who I'm more familiar seeing playing father figures in his later years).  While Teddy Robin Kwan, Ku Feng, Lau Shun and Wong Ka-kui play other "cagemen" -- there are no (cage)women, by the way, but there's an ethnic mix in the film that, interestingly, is taken as a matter of course rather than made much of -- who stand to lose their homes after it's announced that the landlord has sold the building it's located in and the building will be demolished.

 

One of the biggest ironies and tragedies presented in Cageman is that while audience members will think that the living conditions of the "cagemen" are terrible, they -- a number of whom appear to have been (non-native Cantonese-speaking) refugees from China -- themselves think that there are much worse possibilities.  (Though, strangely enough, there's a former cage home dweller who moved out onto the streets who seems to be doing better than his friends in the movie; more specifically, Charlie, the cheery character played by Joe Junior!) 

 

Arguably even sadder to see, actually, is how the district councillors (a two-faced lawyer with Western ways played by Dennis Chan and a Chinese-opera-singing bow-tie wearer played by Chow Chung) use rather than help their cage dwelling constituents.  Ironically, that might have been (looked upon as) a dig against the colonial British government back in 1992 on the part of this Sil-Metropole Organisation production.  But 24 years on, the continued relevance of this invaluable social drama that might have been seen as (produced by) "leftist" by Hongkongers is a damning indictment on the post-Handover regime(s) (too).   

 

My rating for the film: 10. 

A Foggy Tale dispenses hope for a better tomorrow even in times of (White) Terror (Film review)

  

A Foggy Tale screened at the Hong Kong 

Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre 

 

Lead actor Will Or on stage at the post-screening Q&A

 

A Foggy Tale (Taiwan, 2025)

- Chen Yu Hsun, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Caitlin Fang, Will Or, 9m88

- Part of the HKIFF's Galas program 

 

The "White Terror", the name given to period of martial law and violent political repression of by the then ruling Kuomintang political party, lasted for 40 years. In 1989, two years after it ended, Hou Hsiao Hsien made the first film about it, the seminal City of Sadness.  In the years since, a few other filmmakers have mined this subject, including another great Taiwanese auteur, the late Edward Yang, with A Brighter Summer Day (1991).  

 

Clearly though, there still are a lot of stories to tell about those tumultuous times. And by way of this winner of four Golden Horse Awards (including for Best Narrative Feature, and Best Original Screenplay for its director-scriptwriter), Chen Yu Hsun has produced a powerful work that deserves to be spoken in the same breath as the works of Hou and Yang -- and honoured the memories of those who unjustly perished during the White Terror and those who survived against the odds.    

 

A Foggy Tale tells the story of Yue (portrayed by Caitlin Fang), an orphaned teen from an impoverished rural family whose beloved elder brother is captured and killed by the Kuomintang.  Determined to bring his body back home (rather than have it end up in a common grave), she makes the approximately 250 kilometer journey from Chiayi to Taipei.       

 

Plucky but naive, she soon gets abducted by men aiming to sell her off to for a few hundred (Taiwanese) dollars.  Very fortuitously for her though, she also had crossed paths with a Cantonese ex-soldier turned rickshaw driver whose foul mouth belies his heart of gold and Kung-tao (played by multi-lingual Hong Kong actor, Will Or) and he comes to her rescue.  Over and over again, as it turns out.   

 

In addition to being this film's title, A Foggy Tale also is the name of a story that Yue's elder brother tells her elder sister (played by the actress whose stage name is 9m88), a Taipei resident who Yue had previously never really known as the elder sibling had been sold off when Yue was very young.  In addition, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that director-scriptwriter Chen thinks that many people today have foggy memories of the White Terror and that he wants to cast light on those terribly trying times that he, who currently is in his 63rd year, lived through.  (More than by the way, his Wikipedia entry includes the following line: "After failing the university entrance exam, he had no choice but to enlist in the military.")

 

More than by the way, there is no escaping from the fact that A Foggy Tale is an intense film with painfully tragic and stomach-churningly horrific moments and scenes.  But director-scriptwriter Chen makes this excellent dramatic work easier to watch and digest by including in it colourful characters, some light, even (darkly) comedic segments, and a hope that better days and futures lie ahead, for individual people and, also, their nation as a whole.      

 

My rating for this film: 9. 

A Japanese anime with arresting visuals and an Italian film with a whole lot of dialogue! (Film reviews)

  

Moments before the beginning of a Hong Kong 

International Film Festival screening

 

The Last Blossom (Japan, 2025)

- Baku Kinoshita, director and co-scriptwriter (with Kazuya Konomoto)

- Voice actors: Kaoru Kobayashi, Junki Tozuka, Pierre Taki, Hikari Mitsushima, Yoshiko Miyazaki

- Part of the HKIFF's Animation Unlimited program  

 

For those people who still think that anime is just for children: check out The Last Blossom.  Okay, yes, it has a child character (Kensuke is voiced by 30-something-year old Natsuki Hanae) and even a talking flower (voiced by Pierre Taki).  But this truly is a mature dramatic work about an elderly, dying yakuza serving a life sentence looking back at his life and reflecting in particular on the phase of his life back in the 1980s when he lived with the love of his life, devoted single mother Nana. 

 

Such is the length of the time line of The Last Blossom's story that both lead character Minoru and Nana are voiced by not one but two people; with Kaoru Kobayashi supplying Minoru's younger voice, Junki Tozuka his older one, Hikari Mitsushima voicing Nana in the 1980s and Yoshiko Miyazaki in the 21st century.  Yet I must confess that I only realised this when looking at the film credits!

 

Meanwhile, the Housenka flower is voiced by only one actor despite it appearing in flashback scenes taking place in the 1980s (when it was growing in the garden of the house that Minoru, Nana (who he chose not to marry so as to ensure that she would be unsaddled with yazuka connections) and her son Kensuke lived) and as a potted plant in Minoru's prison cell that Minoru talks to in the early 21st century period.  (More than incidentally: the audience of The Last Romance is informed that young and dying humans can hear the Housenka flower's utterances.  Also, people who are seriously ill (who may recover rather than die).)  

 

Such fancifulness is the exception rather than the rule in this sombre, evenly paced film that poignantly details a long, deep love and what Minoru was willing to do for the woman he loved, and also the sacrifices that he made not only for her but also Kensuke -- who Nana had accused Minoru of not thought of as his son -- and his yakusa boss/"older brother".  But director Kinoshita also is to be credited for making sure there is beauty in what would otherwise be an overly sad work: visually, including via a hanami fireworks display one festive evening; and with music, notably via inspired use of the classic Stand By Me tune.    

 

Beautifully rendered throughout, The Last Blossom is visually impressive.  But what makes it a thoroughly as well as quietly absorbing watch is its touching story revolving around a taciturn yet very understandable main character -- filled with regret but also imbued with a stubborn belief that defeat can be turned into victory in the final stretch with just one great move -- that tugs at the heart.

 

My rating for this film: 8.0 

 

Year One (Italy, 1974) 

- Roberto Rossellini, director and co-scriptwriter (with Marcella Mariani and Luciano Scaffa)

- Starring: Luigi Vannucchi 

- Part of the HKIFF's Gala Presentation program 

 

This Roberto Rossellini film was the opening film of the inaugural Hong Kong International Film Festival in 1977.  I imagine that it was very well received since the 4K restoration of it was chosen to be screened at the 50th edition of the fest; and got a far better audience reaction than that at the screening I attended, which saw a few walkouts and also people dozing off midway through the movie!

 

Early on in this neorealist work, its main character, real life Italian politician-statesman Alcide De Gasperi -- a leader of the Christian Democracy party who served as the country's prime minister from December 1945 to August 1953, passing away just one year later -- states that he prefers dialogue to monologue.  If only that was so too for Roberto Rossellini, in whose film De Gasperi (as played by Luigi Vannucchi) talks and talks and talks... at great length, and mainly at, rather than to, other people in an efforts to preserve a fragile democracy and turn a country divided and in shambles into one that could offer more to its people!

 

Year One mainly consists of three type of scenes.  The type that features the most has De Gasperi speaking in whole paragraphs -- expounding really -- without much pause, mainly about weighty, political issues, and prompting me to idly wonder how the actor was able to do so without his mouth turning dry and his needing to drink some water!  The second type features a Greek chorus or so featuring either the chattering class idly chatting in what looks like a bar situation or fellow politicians in serious discussion over political moves by various figures. 

 

And then there's which this incredibly talky film opened with, and I wish there had been more of: scenes with far more action than dialogue, and which I honestly think conveyed so much more with images than all the words coming out of De Gasperi's mouth did.  Including a dramatic World War II bombing scene; another of the terrible aftermath of bombs hitting a village; another showing Rome under Nazi occupation; a fourth showing Rome in the ecstatic moments after its liberation by Allied forces; and a fifth of frenzied rival political campaigning in the first post-war years.

 

I am sure people who with greater knowledge of Alcide De Gasperi and Italy in general would get far more out of Year One than the likes of me.  But, look: I knew about as little about Ghost Elephants before watching Werner Herzog's film about the search of them or Lebanon before viewing Lana Daher's Do You Love Me; and yet found them far more to my liking!  Also, it's not often that I come out a movie thinking its story might have been better served as a book or even as a radio show.  Or, at the very least, that it really would have been more effective in communicating its entirely serious messages with far less talk, however impassioned, and more action!

 

My rating for the film: 5.0  

My 50th Hong Kong International Film Festival-ing kicks off with "Woman and Child" (Iran-France-Germany, 2025)! (Film review)

 

My tickets for the 50th Hong Kong International Film Festival!

 

Woman and Child (Iran-France-Germany, 2025)

- Saeed Roustaee, director and co-scriptwriter (with Azad Jafarian)

- Starring: Parinaz Izadyar, Payman Maadi, Soha Niasti, Maziar Seyedi, Fereshteh Sadr Orafaee, Hassan Pourshirazi, Sinan Mohebi

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

 

A confession: I did not originally plan to attend a Hong Kong International Film Festival screening of Woman and Child.  Rather, a booking error resulted in my coming by a ticket.  But after seeing that it was directed by the same helmer as Leila's Brothers  (Iran, 2022), which I had viewed -- and got much out of -- at a previous edition of the HKIFF, I decided that the mistake might be a blessing in disguise.

 

Made after Saeed Roustaee had served a six-month prison sentence and a filmmaking ban imposed on him by the Iranian government -- for entering Leila's Brothers in the Cannes Film Festival! -- had been lifted, Woman and Child was made with the approval of the same regime.  Something that I find interesting since this drama centering on a widow with two children who lives with her mother and sister is one that yet another Iranian film that doesn't seem to sugercoat the lives of Iranian people, and their everyday struggles.

 

Mahnaz (portrayed by Parinaz Izadyar) is a hospital nurse who is being romantically pursued by a freelance ambulance driver named Hamid (who comes in the form of Saeed Roustaee film regular, Payman Maadi).  Although Hamid's pressuring her to get married to him causes some stress, Mahnaz seems to harbour genuine affections for him.  And, also, rather inexplicably, her son, Aliyah (played by Sinan Mohebi), who's the most annoying child I've seen in a film since Tan Chui Mui's Barbarian Invasion (Malaysia-Hong Kong-Mainland China, 2021)'s Yu Zhou.

 

So part of me was happy to see him being taken out of the picture fairly early into the movie.  And somewhat inexplicable to me that this development could leave Mahnaz so incredibly distraught that she literally faints at one point in the film.  And, also, becomes not only so emotionally numbed as well as upset that she neglects her much less annoying daughter, Neda (played by Arshida Dorostkar) as well as her own self and others: because, contrary to the title of the film, there's more than one child in the picture.

 

As the reviewer for Variety complained, "none of [Mahnaz's] actions makes the slightest sense". While I agree with that assessment, I'm less in agreement that it's not completely understandable.  Because, well, humans can be incredibly illogical, especially with regards to human relations and when powerful emotions are triggered.  Which certainly is in the case in Woman and Child. (Incidentally, I think that if the title hadn't already been taken, "Woman on a Verge of a Nervous Breakdown" might have been a good one for this movie!) 

 

How you feel about this will undoubtedly affect your overall assessment of this offering that, for me, was involving and actually pretty emotionally gripping throughout.  In addition, I felt that Mahnaz's multi-dimensional interactions with her mother (portrayed by Fereshteh Sadre Orafaee) and younger sister Mehri (played by Soha Niasti) that alternately help to relieve and heal but at other times further threaten to drive her over the edge are fascinating to behold.  

 

More than by the way, I think Woman and Child would have been a better film overall if it had focused more on the females in it as the males are, for the most part, its least watchable characters.  At the same time, the scenes in Aliyah's (all boys) school and the vocational school next door are also very well conceived and shot indeed.  So maybe it's more that the work would have been better served with less of Aliyah and Hamid in the picture; just as Mahnaz would have been better served with less of them in her life!

 

My rating for the film: 8.0  

An American Pastorale is far more American nightmare than dream (Film screening)

TV journalist turned documentary filmmaker Auberi Edler

listening to questions at the post-screening Q&A   

 

An American Pastorale (France, 2024)

- Auberi Edler, director, scriptwriter and cinematographer

- Part of the HKIFF's Documentary Competition program 

 

Back in the 19th century, French diplomat-historian Alexis de Tocqueville published Democracy in America after spending 10 months in the United States of America.  Now in the 21st century, French TV journalist turned documentary filmmaker Auberi Edler spent around that amount of time in a small conservative American town (actually, technically, borough) and has produced An American Pastorale, a documentary that could be said to show how democracy in America dies.

 

In March 2023, a year long electoral campaign began to elect the school board of Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania (as opposed to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, the setting for Cameron Crowe's 2005 romantic comedy, Elizabethtown!).  As Republican and Democrat candidates went from door to door canvasing voters, Auberi Edler's camera was there to follow and record them.

 

Non-interventionist, offering neither narration nor commentary, Auberi Edler quietly captured on camera how a schoolboard election devolves into culture wars whose strands included book censorship, gun control and the undue influence of organized religion (and, in Elizabethtown, one evangelical church in particular) in people's lives and general politics.  In school classrooms, churches, private homes and pretty much elsewhere in between, people of various political stripes -- all of whom are uniformly white in terms of their ethnicity though (note: I've checked and Elizabethtown really does have very few non-white residents) -- are filmed revealing their private as well as public thoughts and in so doing, reveal so much about themselves, their hometown and their country.

 

An American Pastorale had its world premiere -- shortly after the American Presidential Election last year but before Donald Trump returned to the White House -- at the International Documentary Festival Amsterdam (where Auberi Edler came away with the Best Director prize).  At the time of my writing this review, it has yet to be screened in the USA.  (Indeed, it was only a few days ago that the North American distribution rights for it were sold.)  

 

Based on its title, one might have thought that the natural/target audience for this documentary would be Americans.  But an American friend who saw it (here in Hong Kong) told me it had made her cringe and another friend, upon my telling her about the film, told me she didn't think she could stomach viewing it; this particular because she actually personally knew someone from Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania!

 

Despite not being an American myself, I understand.  An American Pastorale is not an easy watch for those who don't like seeing bigotry triumph, thanks in part to how ineffectual, even downright lame and weak, the opposition to far-right white nationalism in Christian clothing was (and is).  Put another way: pretty much everyone seen in this quietly devastating cinema vérité-style documentary -- by a filmmaker who knows very well that, often, it's best to just let a person incriminate themself -- does not come off looking good.  And their country too!

 

Those who know me know that I absolutely hate people talking in cinemas.  But I have to confess: I found myself commenting aloud about, and in response to, certain statements and declarations made, seemingly seriously, by Elizabethtown residents -- and recorded for posterity in the documentary -- that just came across as so crazily asinine!  (As an example, a gun lover talked about the possibility of Hamas going over to attack this rural American community!)      

On a positive note: it's an incredible achievement on the part of Auberi Edler that she managed to get the people in the documentary to seemingly forget that her camera was trained on them, and their every word being recorded.  To be sure, some of them did appear to be performing for the camera -- as well as an audience of their peers -- some of the time.  But more fool them, for thinking that they would be made to look good in this thoroughly thought-provoking work which, actually, lays waste to whatever myths and delusions of grandeur that Americans would ever have about themselves and their country, for the world to see!

 

My rating for this film: 8.5

Yalla Parkour is not your average sports documentary thanks in no small part to it being primarily set in Gaza (Film review)

 Areeb Zuaiter at a post-screening Q&A at the

Hong Kong International Film Festival 

Yalla Parkour (Sweden-Qatar-Saudi Arabia-Palestine, 2024)

- Areeb Zuaiter, director and scriptwriter

- Part of the HKIFF's Documentary Competition program 

In the past year or so, I've viewed a number of films about Palestine and Palestinians -- including The Dupes (1972) at last year's Hong Kong International Film Festival, Five Broken Cameras (2011) at last year's Hong Kong Asian Film Festival, and No Other Land (2024), shortly after it won the Best Documentary Oscar at this year's Academy Awards.  With its focus on parkour enthusiasts, Yalla Parkour might look like it'd be more lightweight than the other works.  But what with the situation in Palestine being what it is, and has been for years and decades now, this documentary offering does end up covering subject matter that is more serious and downbeat than what one would expect a work about an athletic activity to be.  

 

And this all the more so when one throws in the not insignificant matter of its filmmaker, Areeb Zuaiter, being the offspring of exiled Palestinians, one of whom is said to have lost her smile after never being able to see the sea off Palestine again in her lifetime.  Now living in the United States after time spent in Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon and Jordan, Areeb Zuaiter worried that she had lost her connection with Gaza upon the death of her mother before she gets to know Ahmed Matar, a young man whose videos show him and his friends executing parkour moves in various parts of the Gaza Strip.  

 

Communicating via phone and online conversations, Areeb and Ahmed talk about parkour, his friends, his family, the places that he and his friends play in and have converted into their playgrounds (which include a ruined airport, a still intact high rise building, a cemetery, and wall by the sea) and, also, her memories of Gaza and very different life thousands of miles away.  The first video of Ahmed's that Areeb came across on the internet was one that showed young men doing parkour against a backdrop of explosions/bombings.  By the time they first get to talking in 2015, one of the young men, Ahmed tells her, has already left Palestine.  

 

As Yalla Parkour unfolds, we learn that Ahmed aspires to do the same.  Therein lies an irony of this self-reflexive, sometimes wistful and, ultimately, bittersweet documentary: that it is made by a third culture kid who romanticizes her ties to, and memories of, Palestine but whose protagonist is a Palestinian whose videos of him and his friends at play clearly showed and revealed how damaged and ruined much of his homeland already was years before Israel went ahead and pulverized Gaza in retaliation after the events of October 7th, 2023. 

 

It might also be seen as pretty telling that Ahmed's chosen form of play -- one that involves traversing obstacles that come in many forms -- is fraught with very real dangers that can physically hurt and maim, even kill.  Some might see it as showing how cheap life can seem for Palestinians.  Alternatively, one can see Ahmed and his friends' love of parkour as a form of defiance: not just a dicing with death on their own terms but also a determination to overcome fear.  And a seeking of pure joy and genuine sense of accomplishments, not just reckless thrills, against the odds.

 

One of the best things Areeb Zuaitar has done with Yalla Parkour is give Ahmed a voice and platform -- and, also, show him, his friends and his family to be the kind of people who love life, have dreams, care for others and, well, are entirely human.  This may sound like damning the documentary with faint praise.  But in a world where there are folks who don't want to accept that Palestinians are fellow humans who deserve to live, and live freely and with dignity, this is no small accomplishment.    

 

My rating for this film: 7.0

The System strikes me as not just a groundbreaking crime drama but, also, one of Hong Kong cinema's genuine gems (Film review)

Both the Hong Kong International Film Festival 

screenings of The System took place at M+

 

After the screening, The System's director, Peter Yung

(the gentleman on the right) made an appearance

 

The System (Hong Kong, 1979)

- Peter Yung Wai-chuen, director, producer and co-scriptwriter (along with Lee Sai)

- Starring: Pai Ying, Sek Kin, Chiao Chiao

- Part of the HKIFF's Chinese-language Restored Classics program 

 

"There is something special to the Hong Kong New Wave. The movement, spanning just a few short years in the late 1970s and early 1980s, transformed our cinema."  Thus began a Hong Kong Film Archive program introduction about it from 2017.  And to this day, some of the Hong Kong New Wave members -- particularly Ann Hui and Tsui Hark -- remain among the biggest directorial names in Hong Kong/Chinese language cinema.

With just five directorial efforts to his name (compared to Ann Hui's 33 and Tsui Hark's close to 50), Peter Yung Wai-chuen ranks among the less well known of the Hong Kong New Wave.  However, his 1979 debut directorial feature film, The System, is highly regarded by those in the know -- and is one of the Hong Kong New Wave films chosen to be restored in recent years -- with good reason.

 

Even while the Shaw Brothers continued to make movies at their studio in Clearwater Bay studio, favouring shooting in indoor sets, Peter Yung broke free and made incredible use of actual physical locations in Hong Kong that rival and sometimes even were even more colorful and dramatic than anything that could be constructed on a Hong Kong movie budget.  Forty-six years on, the capturing on film of many of those Hong Kong locales -- some of which no longer exist (like the old New World Hotel on the Tsim Sha Tsui harbourfront), others of which have changed beyond recognition (including the neon-lit streets of 1970s Hong Kong) -- alone makes this film quite the visual gem.  But, admirably, there's so much more to The System than that.  

 

Peter Yung had conducted extensive research on the drug trade for an earlier, documentary work and he infused this crime drama centering on a police detective (Chief Inspector Chan is essayed by Pai Ying) trying to nail drug lords (like that played by Nick Lam) with details that provide it with an air of authenticity and enhances his storytelling. From what a cop does after returning home to the planning and execution of the tailing of a suspect, much is shot with authority and visual verve.

 

Adding considerably to the drama and complexity of the film is the main "bad guy", a criminal who Chief Inspector Chan interacts with in various ways -- alternately bullying, cajoling, striking bargains and partnering with to nail down bigger fish.  Tam (portrayed by Sek Kin) is given further dimensions by way of also being shown as a family man and doting father who also has a mistress (Chiao Chiao's character also has parts to play as the head of gambling den and fellow drug trafficker).  

Pei Yin and Sek Kin are of course well known names and faces as far as fans of Hong Kong cinema are concerned.  But their roles in The System may actually have given them more to work with, and more opportunity to shine, than many others.  In any case, they definitely play integral parts in helping this groundbreaking crime drama to be the thoroughly engrossing and entertaining watch that it is; one that left me with the opinion that it deserves to be far well known than it is, and happy that there already are further screenings planned in the coming months in Hong Kong of the restored version of this cinematic gem.

My rating for this film: 9.0

I'm Right Here encourages, and rewards, persistence and doing the right thing (Film review)

  

Hong Kong International Film Festival and other event

literature available at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre

 

I'm Still Here (Brazil, 2024)

- Walter Salles, director

- Starring: Fernanda Torres, Selton Mello, Valentina Herzage, etc. 

- Part of the HKIFF's The Masters program

 

After having viewed a dud of a movie earlier in the day, I returned to the Hong Kong Cultural Centre a few hours later to view a second Hong Kong International Film Festival offering.  With a start time of 9pm, running length of 136 minutes and heavy subject, I hoped that I'm Still Here wouldn't be too hard going.  And so it proved, as Walter Salles delivered a cinematic gem that was thoroughly involving and appealed to my heart, soul and mind.

 

A period drama based on real life events, I'm Still Here is based on the memoirs of Marcelo Rubens Paiva, the only son of Brazilian politician and engineer Rubens Paiva and housewife turned lawyer-activist Eunice Paiva.  Set largely in Rio de Janiero in the early 1970s, when Marcelo was just a boy (played by  Guilherme Silveira for the most part; and Antonio Saboia as an adult), the film opens with scenes of people swimming in the sea and playing volleyball, and generally frolicking, on the sandy beach which the Paiva family home is within walking distance of and looks out to. 

The Paivas are depicted in the early section of I'm Still Here as a happy, loving, upper (middle) class (they employ a housekeeper) family -- comprising a cheery father (Rubens Pavia is played by Selton Mello), mother (Eunice is primarily portrayed by Fernanda Torres and later in the movie by her mother, Fernanda Montenegro) and five children -- whose home teems with life and regularly plays host to friends of the adults and children alike.  But with Brazil being under a military dictatorship (after the 1964 military coup which had sent Rubens Pavia out of congressional office), trouble lurks and the less optimistic among the people, including bookstore-owning friends of the Pavias, go into exile, if they are able to do so.

 

One night, a group of armed men descend on the Pavias' home and take the family patriarch away.  Eunice and the children -- bar for the eldest daughter, Vera (played by Valentina Herszage), who had been sent abroad for a year -- are effectively put under house arrest for a time. Later, Eunice and another older daughter, are taken away for questioning. And while the younger woman is returned home after 24 hours, Eunice ends up spending several harrowing days in a cell where she can hear screams and a room where she's interrogated whose floors are stained with blood.

 

After she is returned home but her husband is not, Eunice mounts a campaign to locate him and find out what's happened to him.  For the sake of her children, the youngest two of whom were still pre-teens, she tries to maintain a general sense as well as facade of normality but the tension, stress and fear is palpable and impossible to wish away.  And yet she determinedly carries on, refusing to rest until she uncovers the truth about what happened to her husband and, also, why.

 

Throughout it all, there's a sense of authenticity to the story and sincerity in its telling.  It's worth noting that director Walter Salles was one of the children who was regularly invited into the Pavia's house in Rio de Janiero, being close friends with the younger members of the family.  And that in Fernanda Torres, I'm Still Here has a lead actress who is absolutely masterful in portraying a woman who tries to mask her feelings, yet whose face periodically -- and heart-breakingly -- betrays her emotions.

 

Based on what I've seen, I'm Still Here rightfully won the Best International Feature Film Oscar this year.  I've not seen all the other films nominated for the Best Picture Oscar and performances nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress.  They must have been absolutely fantastic; otherwise, this movie and its lead actress can count themselves very unfortunate indeed to not also got those awards.

 

My rating for this film: 9.0

Unreachable has a central premise that doesn't give it a ghost of a chance to be a good movie! (Film review)

  

Advertising for the Hong Kong International Film Festival

at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre 

 

Unreachable (Japan, 2025)

- Nobuhiro Doi, director

- Starring: Suzu Hirose. Hana Sugisaki, Kaya Kiyehara 

- Part of the HKIFF's Fantastic Beats program

 

With a 1,734 seating capacity and the largest screen of all of the Hong Kong International Film Festival venues, there is a sense that the films selected to screen at the Hong Kong Cultural Centre's Grand Theatre are the pick of the fest bunch.  I've had friends tell me that they focus on getting tickets for those fest offerings that play there and, often, this is a good, safe strategy.  But, actually, I've seen my share of duds -- or, at the very least, cinematic efforts that did not work for me, even if they did for some others -- there; including, very memorably in 2009, Tsai Ming Liang's I Don't Want To Sleep Alone, which sent many audience members who didn't walk out to sleep!

 

Very sadly, despite my wishing it was otherwise, Unreachable is another cinematic fail.  To be fair, I didn't notice any walkouts nor anyone falling asleep during its Hong Kong Cultural Centre screening.  But pretty early on, this Japanese film which had its international premiere at the Hong Kong International Film Festival revealed itself to be built on a, frankly, quite unbelievably far fetched premise and require a major suspension of disbelief to work that I was not prepared to grant it.

 

Probably because they realised what a problem its plot holes would pose, the film's publicists had asked reviewers in its home market to not reveal a crucial plot detail that's actually pretty integral.  But since it gets divulged pretty early on in Unreachable, I reckon it's okay to do so -- and, in fact, think it really is the responsible thing to do should anyone be reading this review to decide whether or not they want to pay to go watch this movie! So... *spoiler alert*... okay, abandon hope all ye who read further:   

Misaki (played by Suzu Hirose), Yuka (portrayed by Hana Sugimoto) and Sakura (essayed by Kaya Kiyohara) are former children's choir members who have lived and grown up together ever since... they were murdered by a man who entered their practice room and attacked the members of the choir.  So, while trio behave like fairly regular young adults (dressing fashionably, watching movies on TV, going to work -- in an office in the case of one, and aquarium in another -- or attending classes at university), they are GHOSTS who cannot be seen by humans!  More specifically, the three friends are only visible to one another (since we don't see their adult selves actually interacting with others in the film) and maybe a tortoise!  

 

After this revelation, do I need to really say anything at all about the movie's story?  I wish it was otherwise but it would really be a tall order to care or have one's heartstrings successfully tugged after finding this out, right?  

 

This is such a great pity since I know that Suzu Hirose (who I first saw and became a fan of when watching Hirokazu Koreeda's sublime Our Little Sister) can enchant; and, based on what I saw of them in this movie, her Unreachable co-stars, Hana Sugisaki and Kaya Kiyehara, also are very watchable, and not just because they are easy on the eye too!  Furthermore, these three actresses exhibit lovely chemistry; so much so that I hope that they get chances to work together again, on a better movie with a script that makes far more sense and thus would speak to me!  

Truly, there's a sense of a massive own goal and missed opportunity to make a far better movie here.  Aesthetically and visually, Unreachable is actually quite lovely -- with beautiful set designs (particularly of the spacious house the three young... ghosts live in) and attractive choices of locations as well as a generally good looking cast and crew. (Even the killer is much less, well, unpleasant looking than one might expect.)  I just wish that they all featured in a less hare-brained movie that really could only work if one's being not only super generous and tolerant but, also, prepared to stop thinking... about its silly central conceit! 

My rating for this film: 4.0.

Waves made waves at the Hong Kong International Film Festival (Film review)

  

Advertising for the 49th Hong Kong International Film Festival

 

Waves (Czech Republic-Slovakia, 2024)

-  Jiří Mádl, director-scriptwriter

- Starring: Vojtěch Vodochodský, Ondřej Stupka, Tatiana Pauhofová, Stanislav Majer

- Part of the HKIFF's Global Vision program 

 

Another day; another Eastern European historical drama set in a time period which many people outside of the film's country of origin know was of major significance for its people, even if not knowing the exact details.  But whereas The New Year That Never Came (Romania, 2024) is set in the last days of a dictator's rule, Waves takes place over a longer period of time; one that saw both liberalisation and a political clamp down taking place.       

 

Jiří Mádl's film begins in 1967, when Czechoslovakia was firmly part of the Eastern Bloc and with hardliner Antonin Novotný as its president.  Repression is the order of the day but over at the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio, however, journalist Milan Weiner (portrayed by Stanislav Majer) is making waves by challenging the norm and seeking to broadcast the uncensored truth.

 

Before anything else, it should be made clear that Milan Wiener was a real life figure, and someone who -- this is not mentioned in the film -- was a survivor of Terezín and Auschwitz.  I think this is worth noting because it helps explain that he was a man who had already seen much horror in his life, and had experience with, as per the title of countryman Václav Havel's famous book, the power of the powerless.

 

Along with Weiner, the other journalists of the International News Office of Czechoslovakian Radio -- many of whom also were based on real people -- that he headed are presented as courageous individuals with no doubt that what they were doing was right.  And in all honesty, if Waves focused mainly on them, it would have made for a less complex film than that whose main character is a fictional Everyman who ends up working for there too pretty much by accident and, initially, actually against his will.

 

Tomáš (played by Vojtěch Vodochodský) is a technician and elder brother of Pája (essayed by Ondřej Stupka), an idealistic student who idolises Weiner and sought to work for him -- only for Tomáš to get chosen to do so instead!  Left orphaned after the untimely deaths of their parents, Tomáš worries that Pája will be removed from their home by the authorities.  And, in fact, Tomáš just comes across as someone who worries -- rather understandably, actually -- about a lot of things!

 

Tomáš' life gets more complicated after he is asked to leak information about his colleagues to the secret police.  Not doing so might affect his and his brother's living situation.  But doing so involved spying on, and even betraying, his colleagues -- whose work his brother thoroughly approves of and he does come across as actually also agreeing with, and being sympathetic to.  Adding to the moral dilemma that this involves, he gets into a romantic relationship with Věra (essayed by Tatiana Pauhofová), a worldly-wise -- she's returned from a stint in Africa -- colleague of his with a true passion, vocation even, for journalism.

 

Everything comes to a boil when the Warsaw Pact Invasion of Czechoslovakia takes place in 1968. After he learns about the tanks coming to his country and city, Tomáš has to quickly make a fateful decision as to which side he's really on.  And, frankly, even though we know how things turned out then, and over the years and decades, the developments we see unfolding over the course of the movie make for thoroughly engrossing, gripping even, viewing.  

 

To judge from the enthusiastic rounds of clapping it received at the Hong Kong International Film Festival screening I was at, Waves' salute to independent journalism absolutely resonated with the audience I was with -- for good reason!  For the record: while it's common to hear clapping at the end of the fest screening, there were not one but three distinct waves of applause for this film.  Much deserved, really, for a cinematic work that's not only well made but also has messages that are admirable and inspirational.    

 

My rating for the film: 8.5