ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Taiwan

Nina Wu – The Dark Side of Success

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“I really can’t take it anymore. You’re not only destroying my body, but my soul.”

An actress gets the roll of a lifetime in the Taiwanese film Nana Wu, directed by Midi Z. But while it may be a dream come true, it creates nightmares that she must try to figure out. What she discovers will put her career into a completely different light.

The title character (played by Wu Ke-Xi, who co-wrote the script) has spent eight years eking out a career doing bit roles. She is offered a leading role, but is a bit unsure because it involves nudity and a sex scene. Her agent tells her that she’s free to turn it down. But he also notes that this is an excellent role—the kind that can make a career.

We watch as the film is made, seeing occasional abusive behavior by the director. When the film is finished everyone thinks a new star has been found. Meanwhile Nina returns to her small hometown where she is reunited with her former lover who is still acting in a production of The Little Prince done for school children. When she returns for pre-opening publicity, she is pressed about the sex scenes of the film. She responds by stating she is a professional actress.

While on the trip, she begins to have nightmares—usually featuring the color red and frequently involving hallways (which also play a role in the film she was starring in). As we watch these nightmares (and some daytime events that may or may not be real) we sense that there is something from her past that is trying to find its way into Nina’s consciousness. Little by little, Nina begins to piece together the memories that reveal the true nature of her experience.

It is of interest that the quote I open the review with is a line from the film within a film. We hear Nina practicing the line before auditions. We also see her deliver the line in what is obviously a key scene of the film she is making. That line serves to help us understand not just the character Nina is portraying, but the feeling that is within her that is struggling to make its way to the surface.

In press notes, Wu Ke-Xi references stories involving the Asian film industry and the abuse of actresses. These stories were coming to light around the same time that the #MeToo movement began to raise similar issues in Hollywood. These stories highlight emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. This film is a reminder of the scars that such abuse can leave.

Nina Wu is opened in limited virtual cinema locations, expanding to more and to VOD on April 2.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Reporting from Slamdance – Narrative Features (Part 1)

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I want to use this report to touch on a few of the films that are part of the Narrative Feature section at the Slamdance Film Festival. I’ve got to admit that as I’ve been focusing on shorts for a bit, it took a bit of a mental shift to wait for a story to develop. But watching films is sort of like riding a bike, it comes back to you quickly.

A film with a somewhat off-putting title was far more engaging than I expected. Taipei Suicide Story, directed by KEFF, takes place in a specialty hotel—it caters to people who want to die. The desk clerk is informed by one of the cleaning crew that there is a guest in one of the rooms who has been there a week and still alive. When he goes up and finds a young woman who explains that when she arrived, she knew that everyone there was like her, so she no longer felt alone. She no longer needed to die, but she also didn’t want to live. He tells here she has one last night to either die or leave. As the night progresses, the two spend some time together talking—connecting. Will this be the push she needs to end it all or to choose life? How will her decision affect the clerk?

While the film is very brief for a feature (48 minutes), it pulls us into the strange world of the hotel. The daily cleaning service is obviously much different than the hotels we visit. There are some bits of very dark humor that just show up as seemingly throwaway lines. (She’s contemplating buying some instant noodles, and he suggests there are healthier options.) But mostly we are drawn to these two people who are meeting on what may be the last day they will be together. I was a little surprised how much I liked this.

In A Brixton Tale matters of race and class complicate a relationship between two young people. Leah, a young vlogger from a well-to-do family connects with Benji, a shy black young man from the Barrier Block. and uses Benji as the subject of a videoed documentary on Brixton. They become close and are falling in love. But when Benji sees the way she’s edited his life, he feels (rightfully so) that he’s been used. When someone posts a sex video of Leah online, she and Benji seek revenge, and the violence ends up greater than they had planned, but given their social disparity we know that Benji will pay the price.

There are levels here. The film is a minor indictment of voyeuristic filmmaking that wants to show a gritty side of life that the filmmakers are not part of. When we see Leah’s film exhibited to a very upscale crowd, we know that they care more about the quality of the film that the quality of life that Benji lives. It also points out the discrepancy of hope for the two characters, especially when legal troubles come. A Brixton Tale is making its world premiere at Slamdance.

The Polish film Hurrah, We Are Still Alive, directed by Agnieszka Polska, is a noirish story of a group of “socially engaged” filmmakers who are in a holding pattern as they await the return of “the director”. Even in his absence, he seems to have some effect on what is going on in their lives. In part this is because he has taken some of the money left with the group by the Movement (a revolutionary organization) to “invest” to finance his movie about Rosa Luxemburg.  When a woman from the Movement shows up wanting the money, she reconnects with one of the actresses. Some cowboy police officers are also threatening the group. But we also know that an enforcer is being called in—from two different directions.

There is a certain Waiting for Godot vibe to this plot, but without bowler hats or the existential reflection. But there is a sense that all these people are lost and floundering in the director’s absence. It has places where it gets a bit to artsy (especially a few interludes with a rose and blood in the early part of the film that don’t seem to fit with anything). But the noirish feel is well done.

Photos courtesy of Slamdance Film Festival.