E D I T O R I A L
Thursday, May 3: The Echo of Small
Children
Walt Disney freaked me out.
My
earliest movie-going memory is of watching Bambi
on the big screen. I loved the color and all the furry animals, and
identified completely with Bambi, the friendly little deer. Then, near
the end of the movie, a hunter kills Bambi's mother and a forest fire
erupts. I was left traumatized, heartbroken, stunned, and speechless.
Leaving the cinema, I listened to my mother and cousin talking, but
I didn't hear a word they said. I just kept seeing my mother shot dead
by an anonymous gunman, and then blazing chaos.
A
couple of years later, good old family-friendly Walt did it again (in
the United States, at least, Walt Disney dominated the cinematic landscape
for children well into the 1970's). Darby O'Gill
and the Little People seems like an innocent little fantasy flick.
But at some point in the film, late at night, a banshee, a carriage,
and ghost horses appear to take someone away to the land of the dead.
Scared the (fill in your own blank here) out of me. I suffered through
restless nights for weeks. I would lay awake in my bed, listen to the
wind whistle gently through the cracks, watch the softly billowing translucent
curtains, and imagine the banshee coming for me.
As I grew older, I developed more mature, full-blown adult nightmares.
The objects of my terror changed as earlier childhood fixations transmuted
into the financial and interpersonal horrors that stalk my latest (happily
only occasional) sleepless nights.
Movies, though, still hold a certain power over me -- most especially
when I am ensconced in a cinema with a good screen and sound and nobody's
talking. If it's a good film, as a captive viewer I tend to identify
with the characters on the screen. And the director, behind the scenes,
never (or rarely) seen, becomes a sort of father figure, working hard
to provide a nice-looking home and a happy family life for the characters.
Hopefully he has some good stories to tell, too.
That's a childish view of the movies, of course.
When
I was young, I thought my father was perfect. Time has proved otherwise,
but I am still inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt, simply
because without him I would not exist. In the same way, when I learned
about film directors, I thought some of them were perfect: Steven Spielberg.
George Lucas. Alfred Hitchcock. Howard Hawks. Preston Sturges. As I
became exposed to a wider variety of films over a period of time, I
saw the faults and failures (along with the successes) of past favorites.
In some cases I disowned them. I tend to grant certain directors the
benefit of the doubt, because without them I would not have been able
to learn the possibilities of the film art.
When I started exploring Hong Kong movies, I became excited and rediscovered
my childhood as a film lover. I thought some of the filmmakers and stars
were nearly perfect: Jackie Chan. Chow Yun-Fat. John Woo. Jet Li. Lau
Ching-Wan. Tsui Hark. Ringo Lam.
Having viewed about 100 HK films now, I can feel my adolescence is
blooming. The shortcomings of certain father figures have been exposed.
Only time will tell how strong my river of appreciation for these artists
will flow.
As an example, after viewing Broken Arrow, Hard Target, Face/Off, Hard
Boiled, The Killer, A Better Tomorrow, and Bullet in the Head (in that
order), I was convinced that John Woo
was a cinematic genius, worthy of all praise and honor. My first impression
of Mission: Impossible 2 was quite positive. Then the house of worship
began to collapse. I watched a big batch of HK films, then MI:2 again,
and was less impressed. After watching more HK films and A Better Tomorrow
again, I was beginning to re-evaluate Mr. Woo. Further viewings of Heroes
Shed No Tears, all of the above films a second time, plus A Better Tomorrow
2, Once a Thief, and the Canadian television version of Once a Thief,
led me to the conclusion that Woo struck gold with A Better Tomorrow,
The Killer, and Bullet in the Head, slid down to pure (and exceedingly
well-done) action in Hard Boiled, and has since relied on recycling
past successes in order to grow his career in Hollywood. A director
I thought was a genius turns out to be a good action director. That
leaves me deeply disappointed.
Something
similar may be happening with Tsui Hark.
He had many great successes as both producer and director stretching
from the early 1980's up to the early 1990's. His output since then
has tended to divide fans but seldom completely satisfied. Time and
Tide came out last year but has just become available for viewing by
most American fans within the last couple of months. Again, fans are
divided, sometimes intensely, between those who love it, those who thought
it an interesting failure, and those who genuinely dislike it and what
it may represent for his future film endeavors. Will he continue to
concentrate on the visual side of things, having lost (or ignoring)
his ability to tell fascinating, heartfelt stories about people?
Not having seen Time and Tide yet, I can't comment specifically on
it. Yet I love the fact that Tsui Hark has so deeply affected people
in the past that they are passionate about defending or criticizing
his work as a film artist.
After all, no matter how much our view of our parents may have changed,
there's probably at least a little residue of love left in our hearts
for them. We care about what happens to them in the future.
That's the echo of small children.
Yes, I realize that I constructed this house of words on an extremely
narrow foundation of personal experience. But I would still argue that
at least some of the principals hold true for most HK film fans: the
early excitement, the groaning disappointments, the realization that
not all is what it seems. We love the films without reservation as children
love their parents (in many cases). Then comes the confusion of adolescence.
And beyond lies the different insanity of adulthood. At least when it
comes to films, insanity can be a good thing!
Hong Kong Film
Week: Rest in peace. I came to rely on this very fine site as the
primary source for English-language information on current releases
in Hong Kong cinemas. Sadly, Mathieu Ravier is 'putting the site to
sleep' because he has 'reached the end of his stay in Hong Kong.' Visit
the site to see what once was before it's gone forever . . .
Next week: Still have Hit Team and
Wishful Milenio on the docket for review, and will post the delayed
editorial "Dreaming in Cantonese" as well.
As a reminder, if you disagree (or, by chance, even agree) with any
of my reviews, I will be glad to post your comments (with expletives
deleted) on the forthcoming "What Other People Are Saying"
page of this site.
Please feel free to e-mail
me your comments, whether positive or negative.

peter
Editor / Reviewer / Webmaster
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Previous Editorials
Hong Kong Film
Awards: Who Won? (4/26/01)
A Tale of Three
Directors (4/19/01)
Supermodels of
the HK Film World (4/12/01)
What are you
prepared to do? (4/6/01)
Academy Awards
Special (3/26/01)
The Price of
Success (3/19/01)
Is Jackie Chan
Still the Man? part 1 (3/12/01)
Great Expectations
(3/7/01)
In the Mood for
Change (2/26/01)
Bronchitis on
the Brain (2/12/01)
Hong Kong Sequel
Blues (2/5/01)
Better or Best?
(1/29/01)
To Dub or Not
to Dub (1/22/01)
Scenes From a
Fractured Skull (1/15/01)
Year-End Round-Up
(1/7/01)
Briefly noted
(12/31/00)
Wuxia Fantasies
and the Black-and-White Western (12/24/00)
Raiders of the
lost heart (12/17/00)
The movie week
in review (12/10/00)
Redesigning
A Better Tomorrow (12/3/00)
The fantasy begins
again (11/26/00)
A return and
a shortened work week, hurrah! (11/20/00)
That blasted
job! (11/12/00)
Hollywood, Jet,
Jackie, Fred, and Gene (11/6/00)
Did you want
blood with that? (10/30/00)
Do you like cold
pizza? (10/24/00)
Preparing for
the Legend (10/16/00)
The pauper must
pay (10/10/00)
A visit to Five
Star Laser (10/05/00)
A brief vacation
(9/25/00)
The editor's
plea (8/20/00)
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