Three Times, and Other Tidbits

Apologies to my dear readers for the lack of updates, but since seeing Three Times on Friday I've felt like I owe it to this blog to write a movie review, which, as I remember from my Innis Herald days, can become really excruciating.

It wouldn't be impudent to draw parallels between Hsiao-hsien Hou's Three Times and the noltalgic pieces of that other demigod of Chinese cinema, Wong Kar-Wai. Both are awash in lush colours and oriental melancholy, and evocative of the semi-mythical places of yesteryear (Hong Kong, Taiwan). Yet almost over-indulgently Three Times prized style over characters and story, and suffered for it.


Chen Chang and Shu Qi appeared as lovers in three separate stories that spanned almost a hundred years. A Time for Love was a convincingly awkward love story between a soldier (Chen) and a poolhall mistress (Shu Qi) in the pre-modernization Taiwan of 1966. It was the most accessible story out of the three, granted, but also the most charming. The landscape of dilapidated houses and noisy roadside snack joints, symbols of a more innocent and restrained existence, provided the perfect backdrop as the young lovers gingerly fell in love. Shu Qi and Chen were clearly comfortable in their respective roles, and made up for Hou's economy with characters with nuanced and believable acting.

The other two segments, set in 1911 and 2005, respectively, were much more forgettable. There is something to be said about Hou's ambitions--to chronicle of the changing nature of love and relationships throughout the century; but his tendency to linger over scenery and overlook characters proved to be a serious handicap. In a Time for youth, Shu Qi had the very thankless job of portraying an epileptic lesbian singer whose infactuation with a man threatened to destroy her established relationship with another girl. There was supposed to be inner turmoil and confusion, yet with Hou's quick and broad strokes, little of that came across; Shu Qi's character appeared genuinely callous, even loathsome.

Three Times should have been three seperate movies, instead of only one that managed to be both contrived and boring (3 hours!!!)

Having said that, it was gorgeous to look at. The lush interiors of the 1900s brothel dripped with saturated colours and a pervasive sense of claustrophobia; 21st century Taipei was instead shown in a harsh, bluish, searching light that perfectly communicated the quiet anguish of the young and the lost. Unfortunately that was all Three Times was--a beautifully shot dud.



In other news, the Squid and the Whale recently came out on DVD. I beseech you: do yourself a favour and watch it. It honestly is one of the best of 2005, and embodies the best qualities of American independent cinema. It's at once witty, contemplative, incisive, and emotionally honest; if for nothing else, watch it just to see Jeff Daniels (at his best here) as the failed intellectual: his snobbisms are quite something.