This is a superb early work from Chang Tso-chi, focusing on a family whose members are mostly visually-impaired, and shot in a poetic, dreamy style that accumulates emotional power by the end.
There’s something elusively poetic about this dementia drama from Chang Tso-chi that elevates it into rich yet nuanced work about a fractured family’s relational dynamics in flux.
A layered, non-linear Taiwanese LGBT drama centering on the outsiders of society—their lives, struggles, and tragedies.
A docu-fiction that may not be as fully-formed as Tsai’s previous films, but still feels somewhat rewarding if you surrender to its modulated slow cinema style.
In this quite assured feature debut, Arvin Chen explores not so much true love at first sight, but rather the site of first true love.
Shot in Kuala Lumpur, Tsai’s elliptical style captures the odd beauty of old places that seem devoid of warmth as his array of listless characters try to seek for that elusive intimacy and connection with another human being.
Frustratingly deliberate in its pacing, yet one draws contemplation from the film’s unique stillness, all from one of the most formidable artists of ‘slow cinema’ of our time.
An elegy to the demise of the ‘cinema’—both films and spaces—of the 20th century as we had experienced it, all to the pedestrian if oddly haunting pacing of Tsai’s delicate craft.
Tsai solidifies his oblique, slow-paced style with this odd, and at times, shocking meditation on the incommunicability of humans through a family of loners.
Tsai’s Venice Golden Lion-winning second feature may be sparse and silent, but it remains to be one of the deepest portrayals of existential loneliness in the director’s singular filmography.
