The Mystic World
Ricky Hsiao
In his first Mandarin album in 2002, blind Taiwanese singer-songwriter Ricky Hsiao touchingly declared to fans that You Are My Eyes.
In return, he now wants to be Your Ocean.
He croons in the breezy number: “My fishes need not fear anything/Because I’m your ocean/Realising your every dream/If there are tears, I will melt them with my embrace.”
The title track also touches on the theme of dreams – the importance of holding onto them and not letting life set one adrift.
While there is an attempt to vary the tempo and mix things up, it is on the ballads that Hsiao’s voice shines, illuminating a tangle of emotions on Stopped Clock, Home and Next Street Corner.
On the last ballad, written by sodagreen’s Wu Ching-feng, he sings poignantly: “The unknown world is so large/The world I’ve known is so small/The tears I’ve had are so heavy/Eternal joys so few.”
Still, hope beckons and he vows: “I’ll race with you to the streets of tomorrow.”
(ST)

Assassination Classroom 2
Eiichiro Hasumi
The story: A seemingly indestructible octopus-like creature comes to the no-hope class 3-E of Kunugigaoka Junior High School. The assignment is for the students to assassinate him before graduation, failing which, Earth will be destroyed. The creature is nicknamed UT (Kazunari Ninomiya), for Unkillable Teacher. It is up to quiet Nagisa Shiota (Ryosuke Yamada), cool trouble-maker Karuma Akabane (Masaki Suda) and nursing-a-secret Kaeda Kayano (Maika Yamamoto) to bring UT down. This is an adaptation of Yusei Matsui’s hit manga of the same name.

Education and murder are most unlikely bedfellows, though they went together like a compelling nightmare in the action thriller Battle Royale (2000).
Assassination Classroom deals with similar themes, albeit with a far more light-hearted approach.
For starters, UT’s head comprises an unchanging yellow smiley emoticon, even when he is giving instructions to teenagers to kill him.
Part 1 did not venture far beyond this absurdist set-up – frankly, it seemed that an anime adaptation would make more sense (there was one in 2015) for such an out-there story rather than a live-action film.
Things improve in Part 2. The tone is still light and we get to see how adorable UT can be as he dresses up as a dog and then as a peach in a class drama production.
More importantly, we get to see the man beneath the tentacled, jolly exterior that is UT. It is a tale rooted in human folly and recklessness and it divides the class on whether they should still try to kill him.
Also explained – the reason UT took up the position of homeroom teacher for class 3-E in the first place. It certainly gives a fresh spin to the genre of rah-rah you-can- do-better education dramas when the film draws a link between learning to be a good assassin with becoming a better student and person. For all his unorthodox methods and appearance, and the constant spectre of death and destruction that surrounds him, UT forges a strong bond with his written-off charges and becomes, against all odds, an inspiring teacher.
(ST)

There are times when the cineplex seems to be conspiring against you.
Of the eight, nine or 10 screens available, most are showing the same blockbuster, shoving alternative titles – if they are shown at all – to smaller halls in unpopular time slots.
Coming to your rescue is not a superhero but a film festival. You can always turn to one as a surefire means of varying your cinematic diet. The Singapore International Film Festival used to be the only player in town back in the late 1980s. Since then, festivals have sprouted to cater to seemingly every interest, from design to food to cycling.
At least four are taking place back to back – the Italian Film Festival from April 20 to Sunday, the Singapore Chinese Film Festival from Friday to May 8, FoodCine.ma from Friday to May 14 and the European Union Film Festival from May 10 to 22.
While there are the occasional subtitled works that make it to a cinema chain as well as the more adventurous programming offered by the National Museum of Singapore and indie operator The Projector, it is thanks to these mini film festivals that one can easily get a taste of foreign fare, which run the gamut fromthe rib-tickling to provocative.
Just because a film does not get a general release in cinemas here does not mean it is arthouse or esoteric and just because a film comes with subtitles does not mean it is difficult to understand.
An Italian Name (2015), which opened the Italian festival, is a comedy that starts with a joke of naming a baby Benito, the outrageous equivalent of naming one’s child Adolf in Germany. It soon develops into a sharply observed portrayal of friendships and relationships as secrets are revealed and loyalties strained over the course of an eventful night.
True, there are references in An Italian Name pertaining to social class and politics that might be a little tricky to grasp. But at heart, it is dealing with easily relatable issues such as relationships between siblings, friends and husband and wife. And the wonderful expressions on the faces of the actors as they respond to bombshells being dropped are funny in any language or culture.
Actually, I like the fact that elements of the film are, well, foreign. There is something fresh and exciting about the rapid-fire rhythm of the repartee and the unfamiliar backdrops and actors.
And thanks to the Italian Cultural Institute’s efforts in bringing in current films despite budgetary and other constraints – apart from some classics, most of the works at the ongoing festival are from last year – one gets a snapshot of contemporary Italian cinema and society.
Meanwhile, the Singapore Chinese Film Festival is screening Ten Years (2015), a Hong Kong film unlike those featuring the likes of Jackie Chan, Donnie Yen, Nick Cheung, etc.
The Hong Kong Film Award winner for best movie has ruffled China’s feathers as the territory’s fears and mistrust are projected into five sobering shorts set in 2025.
In that bleak future, the territory is wrestling with its identity as it is subject to cynical political machinations, the frightening abuse of power by tyrannical child snitches and restrictions on its beloved Cantonese language.
Given the local authorities’ campaign to promote Mandarin, Ten Years is unlikely to get a screening here. After all, the power of the film would be diminished if it were to be dubbed in Mandarin, not to mention ironic.
If you still think of Hong Kong merely as a shopping and eating haven, this political and powerful anthology will show you new facets.
These are films to entertain, enlighten, prod and provoke and they are making their way to Singapore. In fact, the cineplex is used as a convenient venue for a good number of titles, so you do not even have to venture far to make a meal out of them.
(ST)

Be My Own Friend
Della Ding Dang
The ballad So You’ve Always Been Here is a sweet song which China’s Della Ding Dang sings beautifully.
No power belting, no sustained high notes – just the moving realisation that the one you love has been patiently waiting for you all this time.
Despite the cliched sentiment, there is nothing hackneyed about her delicate delivery of indie singer-songwriter Europa Huang’s tender tune: “Love at second sight, must be love/So you’ve been waiting, waiting for me to find myself/So you’ve always been here.”
On the ballad Protective Colour, with lyrics by Singapore’s Xiaohan, she shows her vulnerable side: “Coldness is my new protective colour/My temporary shell/This heart can’t afford to be hurt now.”
Elsewhere, Della Ding Dang’s seventh album mixes things up with breezy fast-paced tracks such as Want To Fall In Love and the sassy retro pop of Intersect.
Still, it is the quieter moments that linger on in the mind.
(ST)

Mr Right
Paco Cabezas
The story: Depressed after a failed relationship, Martha (Anna Kendrick) goes on the rebound with the charming and funny Francis (Sam Rockwell). Just her luck that he turns out to be a principled assassin – one who kills those who order the hits while wearing a red clown nose. Joining the fray is Hopper (Tim Roth), the man who taught Francis everything he knows, but is now hot on his trail.

At one point in the film, Anna Kendrick declares: “I want to do something terrible.” Well, she got her wish.
Mr Right is the answer to what happens when bad movies happen to good actors.
Kendrick is an immensely likable actress who can sing and act and flits easily between genres from the relationship musical The Last Five Years (2014) to the buoyant drama Up In The Air (2009), for which she was nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress.
Sam Rockwell is a charismatic performer who held moviegoers’ attention in the mostly one-man showcase in the sci-fi thriller Moon (2009).
Spanish director Paco Cabezas helmed the action crime thriller Rage (2014) and that is the emotion you are most likely to feel after watching this travesty.
Also to blame is American screenwriter Max Landis (American Ultra, 2015), who has no idea how to mesh together a romantic comedy with an action thriller. The murderer- for-hire part is confusing and ultimately inconsequential as it involves a bunch of cartoonish thugs.
In one long head-scratching scene, Francis throws knives at Martha to demonstrate some mumbo-jumbo about how he is able to slip into the current of time and slow it down.
So he is some kind of superhero freak who wears a clown nose? And yet he can be overwhelmed easily when the story needs him to be?
Martha should have fled in the other direction the moment the first blade zinged past her. Which is exactly what the actors should have done.
(ST)

Miracles From Heaven
Patricia Riggen
The story: Ten-year-old Anna Beam (Kylie Rogers) falls sick and is unable to keep any food down. She is eventually diagnosed with pseudo-obstruction motility disorder. Her mother, Christy (Jennifer Garner), is determined to get her the best medical care possible, but finds her faith being put to the test. One day, Anna falls into the hollow of a tree and sustains only minor scratches. Miraculously, she is cured of her serious illness as well. Based on the 2015 memoir of the same name by Christy Beam.

One can imagine why Garner, a mother of three, would be drawn to this project.
A gravely ill kid is every parent’s worst nightmare and she taps that primal ferociousness of wanting to protect her child as well as the fear and anguish of a mother who feels helpless in the face of a ruthlessly debilitating disease.
But the largely pedestrian treatment of the material by Mexican director Patricia Riggen (The 33, 2015) turns out an illness-of-the- week cable television movie.
Singer-actress Queen Latifah is shoved into a thankless supporting role as the stranger who befriends Christy and Anna when they travel to Boston from Texas for medical consultations. There is little for her to do but be sassy and kind.
It would have been more interesting if the movie provided an examination on the nature and limits of faith but, clearly, this is not what it is set up for. And so the moviegoer gets a deus ex machina ending as Anna romps through a brightly coloured heaven on an idyllic day trip and has a conversation with God.
There is no dramatic tension to this film – the entire premise is already summarised in the title.
If you are amenable to the idea of miracles, this movie might well move you. But for me, I already take a leap of faith each time I watch a movie. Taking two leaps in one sitting is just too much of a stretch.
(ST)

Nine
Nine Chen
I Really Don’t Want To Fight With You opens with moody orchestral strings. Then the beat kicks in and it turns into a slice of energetic dance-pop.
Good Morning My Homesickness is a take on longing for home from the unexpected perspective of a Kaohsiung native in Taipei.
Touches such as these mean that Taiwanese singer-songwriter Nine Chen’s fourth album is no by-the-numbers effort.
It does not always work though. The electro-funk of Soybean Milk goes from a conversation on how to make good music to a party-hearty chorus of “jump, jump, jump”, which seems like a surefire recipe for a stomachache.
But it is at least more distinctive than the familiar-sounding love songs such as the balladry of You, Him, Me and the R&B stylings of My Once Beloved.
(ST)

Chongqing Hotpot
Yang Qing
The story: Old friends Liu Bo (Chen Kun), Xu Dong (Qin Hao) and “Specky” (Yu Entai) run a hotpot restaurant located in a cave in the city of Chongqing. They embark on an unlicensed cave-expansion scheme and end up inside the vault of a nearby bank. The money would come in handy, but they decide to cover up the hole with the help of former classmate Yu Xiaohui (Bai Baihe), an employee of the bank. Then on the day of the repair, the bank is robbed by men in masks.

The hotpot in Chongqing is not for the faint of heart.
It is a potent brew of chilli oil, dried chillies and peppercorns and delivers a fiery kick to the gut.
Its namesake film packs a punch as well. Writer-director Yang Qing (One Night In Supermarket, 2009) has concocted a crime thriller that jumps back and forth in chronology, spiced up with liberal doses of tension, dashes of comedy and unexpectedly tender notes of friendship and romance.
This is also a movie with a strong sense of place. It is set in Chongqing rather than the overexposed Beijing or Shanghai, offering audiences a fresh urban vista for their eyes, as well as the unfamiliar sounds of the Chengdu-Chongqing dialect for their ears.
The cast comprises a competent line-up of actors.
Chen Kun (The Knot, 2006) has not only the looks to coast along in romances, but also has the chops of a character actor. He is the core of this Hotpot, a good-hearted fellow whose penchant for gambling threatens to be his undoing. Will he do the right thing? Or will money drive old friends apart? He makes Liu compelling even with his mug buried beneath bruises, blood streaks and a swollen-shut eye.
Qin Hao (Spring Fever, 2009), meanwhile, has a taste for the good life and might not be the most reliable friend, and Bai Baihe (Monster Hunt, 2015) is the unhappy office worker who makes a critical decision when lives are on the line.
Will things get darker with each turn, or can there be a happy ending?
All the ingredients carefully prepared by Yang – the robbery, the tunnel, the gambling debt – eventually come to a boil in a piquant ending thick with twists and blood.
(ST)

2015-2016 Karen Mok Regardez World Tour
The Star Theatre/Last Saturday
The last time Hong Kong singer- actress Karen Mok performed in Singapore in a major concert, she had yet to win a Golden Melody Award for Best Female Singer, she was a bachelorette and this venue was probably not even on the drawing board.
Acknowledging the long 15-year gap between gigs, she said: “It’s really too much of me, how should I be punished? By singing.”
As if eager to make up for lost time, she packed the 21/2-hour concert with close to 30 songs and a variety of striking costumes while keeping the chatter to a minimum.
In a most auspicious opening, she appeared in a bright red cape and a red vizor for the regal Niang Niang Jia Dao (Her Majesty Arrives).
And then, with a flourish, the cape was gone and Mok was showing off her gams in a short outfit. That somehow turned into a flowy sexy number with such high slits, you had to admire the way she moved in it with no fear of a possible wardrobe malfunction.
While her smoky vocals make a cover of Chris Isaak’s ballad Wicked Game seem like a good idea, it is hard to top his silkily seductive version. She made up for it with lots of sensual choreography, with a hunky dancer teasingly peeling a garter off her leg.
Then she sprawled across the piano for a rendition of one of her biggest hits, Yin Tian (Overcast).
When Mok sings in Mandarin, she falls on just the right side of exotic with an accent that is always threatening to slip into Cantonese- inflected territory, but never quite does.
The difference is apparent when she sings in English as she is more at ease when she does not have to be so conscious of her enunciation.
Still, it imbues everything she does in Mandopop with a distinctive flavour, in tracks such as Ta Bu Ai Wo (He Doesn’t Love Me) and Guang Dao Zhi Lian (Hiroshima). Also, Mok is a versatile enough performer that she can do playful, dramatic, tender, poignant both in song and in persona.
To demonstrate her range, she went from sexy to innocent at the drop of a costume change.
She next appeared in a cream dress with her hair styled in loose flowing curls as though she were a member of a church choir. Against a backdrop of stained-glass visuals, she did a version of Wai Mian De Shi Jie (Outside World) with a church organ arrangement.
Later on, she morphed into a butterfly complete with wings. In another segment, she seemed to be some sort of dark priestess in a body-hugging jumpsuit, commanding a posse of acolyte-dancers and thrilling the audience of 5,000 with a solo on the guzheng.
During the encore, she said “hi” to her celebrity supporters – Taiwan- born actress Charlie Young and Singapore pop star Stefanie Sun – and took selfies with the crowd behind her. She said: “I have been here so many times, but this sight before me is the most beautiful scenery.”
Mok saved some of her best for last as she lined up her hit ballads Kan Kan (Regardez), Ai Qing (Love Story) and Ai (Love) for the finale.
After the poignant Jing Wai (Beyond Borders), she put on shades and a pilot’s cap and went off into the sunset on the screen, promising her fans that they will not have to wait another 15 years for her next appearance.
(ST)

Fanfan's Time To Give Thanks
Christine Fan
Thanksgiving might be over but giving thanks is always in season.
This is Taiwanese singer Christine Fan’s new album after three years and her first since giving birth to twins in January last year. On the track Thanksgiving, she sings: “Every time you hear this song/That’s me telling you thanks/For all that you have given/What I can’t ever return, the happiest debt.”
Presumably with her hands full with child-raising, Fan, who tied the knot with actor-host Blackie Chen in 2011, leaves the songwriting to others this time around, roping in the likes of William Wei, Lala Hsu and David Ke.
A Long Long Time From Now is a poignant imagining of what a first love might feel like years down the road. The Best Arrangement, a duet with Malaysian balladeer Fish Leong, is in the tradition of her previous paeans to female friendships such as One Is Like Summer, One Is Like Fall.
On the album closer Blow Wind Blow, darkness has its silver lining: “Who turned out the lights and dimmed the sky/Time turns into a black negative/Stars start to slowly appear.”
Fan’s gently soothing pipes imbue each song with a comforting warmth, even when the sentiment is tinged with sadness. And that is something to be thankful for.
(ST)

The Bodyguard
Sammo Hung
The story: Ding (Sammo Hung), an ex-bodyguard with the Central Security Bureau haunted by the disappearance of his granddaughter, lives alone and faces the onset of dementia. He strikes up a friendship with the little girl next door Chunhua (Jacqueline Chan). When her gambler father (Andy Lau) gets into trouble, Ding is desperate to ensure her safety.

One line in the movie made me laugh out loud.
“Boss, he’s like a Kung Fu Panda,” exclaims a hapless henchman to baddie boss Choi (Jack Feng) after being outwitted in a fight by the portly yet surprisingly limber Ding.
Director-star Sammo Hung was so pleased with it that he repeats the quip a second time in another scene.
The repeating of the joke is unfortunately an indicator of what happens with this movie – Hung does not know when to say no. The result is a film which is an unwieldy hotchpotch of different genres.
There is the crime thriller aspect in which the moviegoer is supposed to believe that a miscast Andy Lau is a loser gambler father.
Forced to pick up a bag for Choi, he makes off with it instead and puts his daughter in danger.
Brewing in the background is a turf war between Russian and Chinese-Korean gang elements that eventually blows up.
Tacked onto this is a family drama where a guilt-ridden Ding connects with a girl who reminds him of his granddaughter, not to mention a comedy when Ding’s over-eager landlady (Li Qinqin) makes the moves on him.
As an actor, Hung has an affable and stoic presence and he deserves a better movie and not just one in which he wins the fights.
In the finale, Ding single-handedly takes on Choi’s gang. For good measure, he fights with the Russian thugs who turn up as well.
There is a lone nod to realism as the ageing Ding has to catch his breath between opponents, but otherwise, the drawn-out action sequence is firmly in the realm of fantasy.
For some reason, all the gangsters, regardless of nationality, appear to have pledged not to use guns. Perhaps they wanted to give the unarmed Ding a fighting chance.
Big mistake. Don’t they know he’s a Kung Fu Panda?
(ST)

Heaven In The Dark
Steve Yuen
The Story: Michelle (Karena Lam) works for Marco (Jacky Cheung) and also attends the church where he is a pastor. After they share a passionate kiss, she sues him for sexual harassment and he loses everything. Five years later, they meet again. Can they both find closure? Adapted from the original play The French Kiss (2005) by Candace Chong.

Fourteen years ago, Karena Lam played a high-school student who seduced her midlife-crisis-ridden teacher, Jacky Cheung, in the acclaimed drama July Rhapsody (2002). Here, they are once again sucked into a morass of sexual tension and moral ambiguity.
Heaven initially offers a classic he-said-she-said narrative. Marco is bewildered at what happened in the aftermath of the kiss and is convinced that he did nothing wrong. Michelle seems to have moved on and is a wife and mother when they meet again, but she is still hurt and angry and continues to play the aggrieved party.
First-time feature director Steve Yuen, incidentally Lam’s husband, stacks the cards against Marco. He is a man of the world juggling dual identities as a pastor and as a go-getter in what appears to be a non-governmental organisation, while she is a shy and sheltered woman who gradually blooms at work and in church.
Ultimately, we are given a definitive version of what happened between Marco and Michelle. Unfortunately, this decision robs the film of its tension. Worse, the revelation is far from satisfactory.
Plays such as Oleanna (1992) and Doubt, A Parable (2004) had explored he-said-she-said scenarios more successfully in part because audiences are left to wrestle with what might or might not have happened. The fact that there is no neat conclusion points to the slippery nature of truth.
Cheung and Lam were nominated for acting prizes at the recent Hong Kong Film Awards, but did not win. His portrayal of Marco tends towards exaggeration. While Lam is perfectly competent as the emotional Michelle, it is also a performance that lingers on the surface, probably because of the script.
Heaven is an over-ambitious work that aims high, but is brought low by its floundering end.
(ST)

The Noose & Kakis... 11 Months Of Fresh Air!
Mediacorp VizPro International and Channel 5
The Theatre @ Mediacorp
On television, The Noose’s irreverent take on current affairs in a riot of exaggerated accents has been winning fans since 2007. Its jump to the stage is a mixed bag of laughs as well as skits that fail to hit the mark.
Perhaps the bigger problem is the production’s structure. In between skits featuring familiar characters from The Noose, six stand-up comedians from Singapore and Malaysia – the titular kakis, which is local slang for friends – helm teaser sets.
They make fun of Malaysian politics, send up racial stereotypes and take potshots at Caucasians.
Which is all well and good, in particular Kumar’s abrasive and funny take on living in an HDB flat, except there is little thematic continuity between The Noose skits and the short sets.
If, as comic Rishi Budhrani says, the point of the sets is to give the cast time to change their costumes, there is actually a better solution in plain sight: Video clips are already being used, so why not simply extend them? These new clips by The Noose cast, which continue into action that unfolds on stage, work better.
As for the main show on stage, Michelle Chong is conspicuous by her absence given that her characters – from Filipina domestic helper Leticia Bongnino to Chinese KTV hostess Lulu – were among the breakout stars of the TV show.
Still, the hardworking quartet of Chua Enlai (news anchor B.B. See, minister Wan Mo Peh), Suhaimi Yusof (field reporter Jojo Joget), Judee Tan (North Korean correspondent Kim Bong Cha, Hong Kong correspondent Rose Pork) and Alaric Tay (Chinese news anchor Xin Hua Hua) give it a good shot.
Chua, in particular, is a hoot as Thai correspondent Pornsak Sukhumvit as he investigates the impact of ride-hailing apps such as Uber and Grab. It tends to be funny when things get a little naughty and Pornsak, who is also a pole-dancing instructor, lets it rip with double entendres.
He also takes a dig at scandal-hit former MP David Ong, as does Kumar during his set.
Other topical issues the show tackles include the haze (Indonesian Vice-President Jusuf Kalla had chided neighbouring countries for not thanking them for providing 11 months of “nice air”), the City Harvest Church misuse-of-funds case and MRT train breakdowns.
But with the recent accident near a train station that claimed two lives still on our minds, a sketch about repair works taking place on the tracks cuts a little close to the bone. Perhaps it was too late for a major rewrite.
Tan, who also directs the show, acknowledges the tragedy and conveys her condolences, ending the three-hour show on an unexpectedly sombre note.
(ST)