Sunday, July 20, 2014

Yi Yi (The Criterion Collection) (2000)

Yi YiOnce in a while you walk out of the theatre and you find yourself giving a big sigh. When that happens, it's not because you're tired about a movie you just have seen. On the contrary. In my case it means that I just experienced an artform that cannot be compared with any other kind of art. Yi Yi is a good example of this. For those who watch carefully, they will discover that the story of Yi Yi is not more than a saga, perhaps even a soap plot of a ordinary middle class family in Taipei. But those who have patience to go beyond the facade of the ordinary, they will see a movie dealing about individualism, childhood, commitments, second chances, urban loneliness, broken promises, families, despair and death. But Yi Yi also shows us the small qualities of life: humour, laugther, life questions posed by a diligent and intelligent young kid, first love, courage, the meaning of life and the search for happiness. But Yi Yi is told without the explosivity of American Beauty. Instead, we witness (instead of watching passively) most of the narrative through windows and doors. Just as we're the neighbours of the protagonists of this film. Sometimes we will find ourselves shedding a tear. Sometimes we laugh. And that, my friend, is the reality of life. Shame that this one was overlooked by the Academy Award Association. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon couldn't be a match to this one.

Cinema doesn't get any better than this. If you haven't seen this film then don't hesitate buy the DVD right now, and play it when you're most in need of inspiration it will dispel any doubts you might harbour about the power of film, the worth of art. The ability of Edward Yang to fuse imagination with, it must be assumed, an amazing honesty in reflecting upon his own life, to share what he holds most dear, and what evokes the most wonder, is something we, as an audience, can only marvel at and give thanks for. To say that 'Yi-Yi' inhabits the points of view of a child, an adolescent, an adult, a parent, a matriarch, the points of view of both male and female, that of the earnest, the honest, the ironic and idealistic, is to say that it truly touches upon life's richness. At one point in the film a character comments that films allow us to live life three times over, that's to say, they show us three times as much life as we could live by ourselves most films give lie to this optimism, but 'Yi-Yi' itself makes such a statemest seem miserly. One of the best films I've ever seen.

Buy Yi Yi (The Criterion Collection) (2000) Now

"Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" has been getting all the attention with its high-flying kung-fu action, but "Yi Yi" may very well be the best movie to come out of Taiwan in 2000.

This movie reminded me a lot of Wong Kar-Wai movies (with the exception of "In the Mood for Love", "Yi Yi" is probably the most beautifully filmed movie I saw in the past year) but unlike Wong's movies which often place more emphasis on style than stories, "Yi Yi" has more accessible plot lines -half a dozen of them, in fact. It starts at a wedding and ends at a funeral, and packed in the middle is a story of a Taipei family, each reacting to different crises in their lives.

Clocking at almost 3 hours, you may find this movie a bit long and slow at times, but I absolutely loved every minute of this movie, because all the stories are told with such patience and subtlety. Edward Yang (the director/writer) also does a wonderful job with character development, and while you may struggle to figure out who's who in the beginning of the movie, you will no doubt get to know and care about each member of the troubled Jiang family by the end of the movie.

"Yi Yi" will make you cry and it will make you laugh. But most of all, it will make you glad that you didn't miss out on this gem of a movie.

Read Best Reviews of Yi Yi (The Criterion Collection) (2000) Here

OVERVIEW & STORY:

This review is intended to be part critical analysis and part celebratory love letter to a film that's a genuine modern masterpiece of cinema. Writer/Director Edward Yang's Yi Yi is as close to a "perfect" film as I've seen; warm, funny, humane, poignant, beautiful, evocative, and expertly crafted in every sense of the word.

For those who don't know, Edward Yang is a part of the New Wave of Taiwanese Cinema, along with other acclaimed directors like Hou Hsiao-hsien and Tsai Ming-Liang. These directors all share some similarities; One is a consistent use of precise framing and static long takes. This technique might be most famously utilized by legendary Japanese director Yasujiro Ozu. The comparison is even more apt than that as all of these directors applied their technique to subjects dealing with people in changing societies. Their films perfectly capture the zeitgeist and work equally well as social commentary, historical documents, and film-art.

At its simplest, Yi Yi is a portrait of a middle-class family in Taipei dealing with (as one reviewer stated) "romantic, economic and spiritual upheaval." But if the idea itself is simple and mundane, its execution is complex and incredibly rich. To even attempt a plot summary is difficult, though I will try.

The film opens with the marriage of Ah-Di to a pregnant Hsiao-Yen. This is interrupted by Yun-Yun, Ah-Di's ex girlfriend and current business partner. Ah-Di's brother-in-law is NJ, the central character, if indeed you can apply that title to any here a loving father and husband caught in a crossroads in his life; at his work when he is coaxed into befriending a possible business partner in Mr. Ota, and personally when he runs into his first love, Sherry, at Ah-Di's wedding. NJ's wife, Min-Min, is caught up in a spiritual crisis when after the wedding an accident sends her mother to the hospital, and eventually home with the family to take care of. This accident is even more distressing to Ting-Ting NJ's and Men-Men's teenage daughter who feels the accident is her fault for forgetting to take out the garbage. Ting-Ting becomes quick friends with the neighbor girl, Li-Li, whose family is having problems of their own, and whose boyfriend, Fatty, becomes a source of contention between the two girls. Finally, there's little Yang-Yang, NJ and Men-Men's young son, who provides a great deal of the humor and profundity throughout the film with his imagination and child-like honesty.

REVIEW:

If the above plot synopsis sounds convoluted and unwieldy, then place the blame on my summary instead of Yang's film. If I had to choose one aspect of this film which succeeds above the others it would be Yang's handling and crafting of the narrative which is so adept that the film never makes one feel it's as complex as it actually is. Though the film is constantly shifting between characters and storylines, the transitions appear seamless. Part of this can be attributed to the editing, which is smooth and extremely unobtrusive, and part of it is due to the aesthetic and emotional flow which perfectly connects scenes and characters together like a fine silk.

When looking at the narrative and characters as a whole it's difficult to find any negatives. Yi Yi is one of the greatest films I know of about ordinary people. It's not just the fact that Yang refuses to hype the characters or their reality, but it's the breadth and depth that's given to both in all the superficial simplicity. One review of Ozu's legendary Tokyo Story mentioned that it was "a film that encompasses so much of the viewer's life, that you are convinced that you have been in the presence of someone who you knew very well." and the same could be applied to Yi Yi. By the end, we get to know these characters almost as real people instead of fictional creations. The same could be said of the narrative which, despite the difference in societies and cultures features characters dealing with problems that plague us all; whether it's NJ's frustration with his failing job, or his nostalgic attempt to recapture a piece of his life that faded long ago, or Men-Men's frustration with her dull, repetitive everyday life that compels her to seek out spiritual fulfillment. Even the children are easy to relate to, with Ting-Ting decision of whether or not to sleep with Fatty for the first time, or Yang Yang's ability to capture a piece of childish imagination and innocence lost to us all. If I had to find a single flaw it might be that the Ah-Di, Hsiao-Yen, Yun-Yun storyline isn't as compelling when compared with the others. It's by no means "bad", but its weakness perhaps lies in the fact that they are the least developed characters in the lot.

Beyond the narrative and characters Yang's themes are as rich as anything else in the film. On the simplest level Yi Yi works to reveal the effect of society on modern people and families and vice versa. However, Yang is less insistent on the import of his themes compared to the likes of Hou Hsiao-hsien. If Hou's films actively explore the state of Taiwanese society, then Yi Yi seeks only to observe, but not comment too deeply. It's this lack of force that prevents the criticism of pretentiousness from ever applying to the film.

Yi Yi is also a film of wonderful moments and scenes. One such scene is of Yang-Yang in AV class, watching the girl he's infatuated with as thunder and lightning play on the screen behind her with the apt subject of "two opposing forces coming together". Another is the masterful montage of Ting-Ting's date with Fatty, paralleled by the dialogue and scene of NJ and Sherry's `reunion'. Yet another features NJ and Mr. Ota discussing their love for music. Other moments are so small they might go unnoticed, such as the simple shot of Ting-Ting entering her grandma's bedroom and grasping her hand, or the musical montage of a vision of Tokyo. But I'd be remiss if I didn't mention Yang-Yang's closing monologue. It's a scene so poignant and so perfect that it has instantly become one of my absolute favorites. In a film full of superb scenes it's a testament to Edward Yang's greatness that he was able to close on the most cathartic of all.

The acting is consistently superb. Even though Nien-Jen Wu (NJ) is perhaps the most accomplished, it's hard to find a weak spot in the cast. Issea Ogata (Mr. Ota) steals most every scene he's in with his exuberance. Elaine Jin (Min-Min) has a couple of tough, extended, emotional monologues and without the aid of editing she pulls them off marvelously and believably in a single take. Kelly Lee (Ting-Ting) brings a sense of subdued emotional subtlety that's indicative of skill far beyond her years. Jonathan Chang (Yang-Yang) practically steals the whole film with the straight-forward honesty he brings to the role of Yang-Yang. He's not adorable in the horribly fake, classic "precocious child" manner, but in a way that's much more truthful to the spirit and purity of childhood.

Yang's direction is masterful and quietly understated. He rarely attempts to draw attention to the camera, and it would be easy for the wealth of incredible shots to go unnoticed. One particularly unique technique is Yang's use of reflective surfaces. This has a remarkable effect of expanding the audience's field of vision, so often we're not only able to follow the story, but get a feel for the environment that's such a crucial aspect of any film. Other times it serves as a source of economy, allowing Yang to capture a scene with as little movement as possible. Beyond the mere shots, the editing is phenomenal. Yang expertly utilizes transitional devices to weave the diverging strands of his complex narrative together. One perfect example is the AV room "storm" film with Yang-Yang transitioning to Ting-Ting caught in a real storm. While devices like this may seem banal, it's the fact that they're never pronounced in a pretentious manner that allows them to serve the film and narrative rather than distract from it. One particularly brilliant narrative device is the comatose grandmother, which after being prompted by the doctors to talk to her the family takes turns revealing their innermost secrets and fears to her and the audience as well. Yang also puts a lot of trust in his actors by liberally utilizing long takes, such as NJ and Sherry's hotel meeting. Finally, Yang presents most of the film in a very patient manner. While he doesn't maintain as much narrative perspective distance from events as some of his contemporaries, he does often use a somewhat voyeuristic style that observes but doesn't attempt to actively involve. This often has the effect of capturing the environment which can speak as powerfully about a scene as what's happening in the story. Two obvious examples are Ting-Ting and Fatty's meeting at night near the road, and NJ and Sherry's meeting in the park. Yang's overall visual aesthetic of one of calm, meditative, and patient observance; certainly the opposite aesthetic of the common, modern ADD riddled Hollywood.

One final remarkable accomplishment I'll mention is how despite the near 3 hour runtime it almost feels too short. There are very few lengthy films I know of that have ever pulled of that trick; one is Kurosawa's incomparable The Seven Samurai, and that is indeed fine company to be in. As the credits rolled, I kept thinking how nice it would be to have spent more time in this world with these people. It's not that Yang doesn't provide a resolution; it's merely that the film is such a perfectly crafted world you might not want to leave.

Sadly, Edward Yang died June 29, 2007 from his long bout with colon cancer. He left behind a handful of masterpieces, including this film, A Brighter Summer Day and Mahjong. In closing I'll reiterate what I said in the opening: Yi Yi: A One and a Two is a genuine masterpiece from one of cinema's greatest and most unsung masters. All I can do is give it my highest recommendation and hope that more people discover one of the strongest candidates for best film of the 21st Century. It's one of those films that celebrates life, and will perhaps make you appreciative of the life you live and the people and places in it. Yi Yi has quickly become one of my absolute favorites and I only wish I could heap enough eloquent superlatives on it to reveal the greatness of this truly brilliant film.

DVD REVIEW:

As per usual, the Criterion edition is magnificent. After renting and falling in love with the film in the Fox Lorber edition I immediately bought the Criterion Edition and was stunned by the increase in quality. The visual transfer is pristine and perfect, but it's really the extras that should prompt a fan of the film to pick it up. The audio commentary by Yang and Tony Rayns is insightful and adds even more richness to an already gorgeous tapestry. The rest of the extras are equally welcomed, including Rayns's excellent interview where he discusses the New Wave of Taiwanese Cinema and Yang's importance in the movement as well as the extensive booklet essay.

Want Yi Yi (The Criterion Collection) (2000) Discount?

I will not plow the ground covered by others reviewing the substance of the film. Suffice it to say that Yi Yi is utterly compelling and merits five stars.

BUT -the Fox Lorber DVD transfer listed for sale here is unwatchable. This is not a video tech geek's mere quibbling over small details. I seriously mean unwatchable. The sound is garbled and distracting, even for those who rely entirely on the subtitles as I do. The image is dark, muddy and often so completely out of focus one cannot make out faces well enough to distinguish one character from another. Colors are garish and strange -in this version, much of the film seems to have been shot under cold blue buzzing fluorescent light. The rest -anything shot in subdued lighting -is a black hole without any visible detail.

I attempted to watch this DVD and gave up after about half an hour of frustration. This transfer never should have seen the light of day.

The Criterion Collection edition of Yi Yi is absolutely luminous and electric -and a sheer joy to watch. That's the one to buy!

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