Are music awards still relevant?
It is a question that pops up from time to time given how many there are out there. Publications give out awards, radio stations give out awards, websites give out awards and even soft drinks give out awards. That is taking the pop in sodapop a little too liberally.
It is practically suspect if a singer or album does not end up with some kind of accolade or other.
With Taiwan’s Golden Melody Awards hitting a milestone 25th edition, it is a good time to take stock of the awards show even as it takes stock of the Chinese music offerings in a given year.
And the quick answer to the question is: Yes.
While there is a deluge of awards out there, there will always be room for an industry-wide exercise conducted by a respected panel. The Golden Melody Awards, Golden Bell Awards for television productions and the Golden Horse Awards for movies are considered Taiwan’s three major annual awards. But their influence extends to all of the Mandarin-speaking world, particularly the music and film awards.
While the Golden Melody Awards have been christened the Grammys of Chinese music, it is probably fair to say that the former has greater cache in comparison as the Grammys have been pilloried for being out of touch and irrelevant.
On the other hand, the Taiwanese award has tried to straddle mainstream relevance and music credibility. Four of Mandopop king Jay Chou’s albums have won for Best Mandarin Album, namely Jay (in 2001), Fantasy (in 2002), Ye Hui Mei (in 2004) and The Era (in 2011). But you also have feted indie singersongwriter Sandee Chan’s Then We All Wept In Silence taking the top honour in 2005.
It helps to have the judging panel helmed by respected figures such as this year’s Ni Chung-hua, a veteran who was responsible for bringing musicians such as rocker Wu Bai, singer-songwriter Chang Chen-yue and producer Lin Wei-che into the business.
And a credible award can also highlight changing trends in music.
A milestone year for the Golden Melody Awards could well be a watershed for pop music from China. One of the biggest surprises from the nominations this year is that the two frontrunners are both from China. The works of Li Ronghao and Li Jian are both in the running for five awards each.
Li Ronghao’s debut record Model is up for key awards Best Mandarin Album, Best Mandarin Male Singer, Best Newcomer and Best Album Producer and the title track is nominated for Best Lyricist for Hong Kong’s Chow Yiu Fai. Meanwhile, Li Jian’s Classic is in the running for Best Mandarin Album, Best Album Producer and three tracks have been nominated for Best Arrangement by Wang Zhiyi and Zhao Zhao.
In media reports, Ni has said that the awards will not be restricted to Taiwan and that the greatest consideration should be musicality regardless of where it is from and regardless of market response. And the stellar showing of China pop makes it clear that it is a force that cannot be ignored.
Just last year, the five nominees for Best Mandarin Album were all from Taiwan and Hong Kong. This year, works from China take up two of the five spots, thanks to Li Ronghao and Li Jian.
China is already a major market in Mandopop and artists have been flocking there to promote their albums and tour extensively. The flow of China pop outwards has been more of a trickle, but it was always only a matter of time before it makes bigger inroads into Mandopop as a whole.
True, a few of the big names in Mandopop have been born in China, including Faye Wong from Beijing. But they found success after moving to Hong Kong or Taiwan, in the case of Della Ding Dang.
Stars big at home in China, such as Han Hong, Lao Lang and Li Yuchun, have not enjoyed the same degree of success outside of it. Reasons bandied about have ranged from less slick packaging to differing tastes. But with convergence and greater interaction over time, there will be fewer obstacles to music from China getting a warm reception regionally.
Ni adds that the nomination list needs to be broad enough and not restricted to a few genres or a few people, otherwise, the awards will be acknowledged by a shrinking group.
Hip-hop’s growing visibility and acceptance is also reflected in this year’s nominations. Soft Lipa’s Renovate is up for Best Mandarin Album, Best Male Singer and Best Album Producer while rapper Dog-G is up for Best Lyricist for 100 Points.
It prompted Dog-G to remark: “Compared to when I first started out with MC HotDog, it feels that hip-hop has now taken root in Taiwan.”
They were dabbling in hip-hop in the early noughties and MC HotDog had won Best Album with Wake Up in 2007.
There is also the personal satisfaction factor to consider.
As a music reviewer, I get to see how my picks stack up. Chang Chen-yue’s Ayal Komod, Tizzy Bac’s Fragile, Wakin Chau’s Jiang Hu, The Rhapsody and Soft Lipa’s Renovate were among my favourites over the past year. It is always gratifying to have one’s choices affirmed by others.
Of course, when one does not see eye to eye with the nominees or rails over egregious omissions, it must be because the jury fails to recognise quality even when it stares them in the face.
Ultimately, an awards event is also another means of learning about the good music available out there and discovering voices that might have slipped under the radar. So before the results are unveiled on June 28, no prizes for guessing which China artists will be on my playlist.
(ST)

rice & shine
Eason Chan

Fans get a double dose of Hong Kong’s Eason Chan on his new Mandarin release, rice & shine. Split into two parts, he works with China’s Radio Mars on Rice and with Singaporean singer-songwriter JJ Lin on Shine.
Conceptually, the album is similar to what the singer did on The Line Up (2002), where lyricists Lin Xi and Wyman Wong were responsible for two different halves of one album.
In this case, Radio Mars did the music and lyrics for Rice, while Lin’s music was set to words by different lyricists for Shine.
The first collaboration with Lin that was plugged is Ni Gei Wo Ting Hao (Listen Up). It is a ballad that manages to capture something of Chan’s essence and master lyricist Lin Xi complements the tune perfectly with his nuanced wordplay. It goes: “Listen up, you must smile when you feel like crying/Actually, you know that troubles solve troubles/When the new arrives, the old will be forgotten/Tiny complaints only prove that life is not boring.”
JJ Lin has a knack for coming up with radio- friendly hooks but his work here, while easy to get into, also manages to be a little left of centre.
Another reason Chan wanted to work with Lin was because of the singer-songwriter’s ability to dabble in various genres.
Apart from the ballads, a highlight here is the jauntily jazzy Fang Qi Zhi Liao (Give Up Treatment). Wu Ching-feng from Taiwan’s sodagreen pens the sharp and darkly humorous observations here: “Lonely people are most afraid their phones won’t get a signal” and “Society forces you to burn, modern day thinking/I’m no good, why else do I have so many troubles/What the heck, suddenly remembered I forgot to take my meds.”
On the surface, Rice seems like the more upbeat counterpart to Shine.
Lead single Yu Le Tian Kong (High Light High Life) is a lively track shot through with sunshine. The lyrics, though, take a darker turn: “The sunlight is so dazzling/But my ideals are slowly rotting away.”
In fact, the mood is not all that different from Shine. Most of the tracks fall into the mid-tempo range and there is a light dusting of electronica here and there.
Where Chan gets to have a little fun is on Yu Ren Kuai Le (Happy Fools) as he lays on the Beijing accent.
Again, the sun is shining bright in the lyrics but there is an undercurrent of darkness tugging away at the song: “The dreams we have we have we have we have have woken/The person we love we love we love we love has gone/We enjoy loneliness, bear censure, see through everything/Each day we pass by, the sunlight is dazzling, sunlight is dazzling.”
The tracks on Rice feel more cohesive – perhaps not surprising, given that they were the work of one entity, but Lin’s music on Shine feels a little more compelling.
The debate as to which half of the album works better is one that Chan’s fans will relish.
(ST)

Aberdeen
Pang Ho Cheung
The story: Ching (Miriam Yeung) is a tour guide whose doctor husband Cheung (Eric Tsang) is having a fling with a nurse. She is haunted by a strained relationship with her dead mother. To (Louis Koo) is a star tutor married to a beautiful actress, Ceci (Gigi Leung). A strong believer that the beautiful will inherit the earth, he is worried about the prospects of their plain-looking little girl, Chloe. Dong (Ng Man Tat) is a Taoist priest who performs funerary rites. What seems like separate stories is revealed to be the portrait of one single family and of Hong Kong in miniature.

Aberdeen is an ambitious undertaking for Hong Kong auteur Pang Ho Cheung. The film’s Cantonese name, Heung Gong Zai, gives a better sense of the scope of the film. While it refers to Aberdeen, the English name of an area on Hong Kong Island, it also means Little Hong Kong.
In this portrait of the Cheng family, with patriarch Dong and his children Ching and To, Pang is also painting a picture of the territory’s chequered past as a British colony and the winds of change that have blown across it. Dong came from a family of fishermen but he had to learn new skills to make a living when those living on boats were forced to move into housing estates in the late 1960s.
History on large and small scale entwines as Pang explores its consequences in modern-day society.
The movie marks a change of style for the director as well. If you are looking for scabrous comedy of the sort found in previous works such as A.V. (2005) and the award-winning Vulgaria (2012), you might want to adjust your expectations. Admittedly, I do miss his outrageous sense of humour but Aberdeen, while more low-key, does have its funny moments, such as when Chloe asks for funeral rites to be performed for her pet chameleon Greenie.
There are also some entertainingly fantastical scenes, including Ching riding in a paper-offering taxi and Greenie as a Godzilla-like monster on the rampage.
For the most part, though, Pang has drawn inspiration from stories that have made their way into the news. They include the man who divorced his wife after the birth of their ugly children, not knowing she had gone for plastic surgery; model-actresses available for the picking at private parties; and callous tourists who posed with a stranded dolphin, reimagined as a beached whale here.
All this is meant to be part of a compelling tapestry, but Aberdeen feels scattered in a way that Pang’s best films do not. This is not the excellent movie about the weight of history, national and familial and its far-reaching consequences that John Sayles’ Lone Star (1996) is.
So it is thanks to Pang’s able ensemble cast that you get drawn in. Besides the main cast, Pang regulars such as Shawn Yue (Love In A Puff, 2010, with Yeung) and Chapman To (Vulgaria) also show up in interesting cameos.
In particular, singer-actress Leung is memorable in one of her meatiest roles in years. Some of the jibes about her character’s lacklustre acting career cut a little uncomfortably close to the bone, but Leung proves, once again, she is more than just a pretty face.
(ST)

Grand Piano
Eugenio Mira
The story: The last time pianist Tom Selznick (Elijah Wood) attempted La Cinquette, a so-called “unplayable” piece, he choked because of stage fright. Five years later, the one-time star is back on stage performing before a packed crowd. Turning a page, he finds a threat scrawled on the score: “Play one wrong note and you die.”

Talk about performance anxiety.
Tom Selznick already has to deal with the pressure of returning to the stage after an inglorious break and, now, he has to deal with making sure that he gets every note right of La Cinquette (a piece created for the film, but which alludes to Rachmaninoff’s technically devilish Piano Concerto No. 3). Or die trying.
It is an intriguingly warped premise and Spanish director Eugenio Mira (Agnosia, 2010) conducts a virtuoso performance with it, one packed with drama and suspense.
Who, exactly, has his sights on Selznick? An obsessive fan taking things one step too far? A nutcase? Or someone with a precise, unknown, agenda?
To make sure that Selznick plays ball, the writer of the note threatens to shoot his wife Emma (Kerry Bishe), an actress who is in the audience.
And then the fun begins in earnest as the fabulously dextrous Wood juggles playing the piano with trying to make a call and sending a message – all the while trying to avoid being seen by the mysterious sniper.
Wood is best known for starring in the hit trilogy The Lord Of The Rings (2001-2003) and his wide-eyed look is put to good use here as fear, anxiety and determination play across his face.
Fittingly, for a thriller about a pianist and a piano, the use of music here is masterly.
From the opening credits in which the camera takes us inside the workings of one specific grand piano to Selznick performing under duress on stage, the score works beautifully in tandem with what is unfolding on screen as it teases, trills and thrills.
Credit here goes to Spanish composer Victor Reyes, whose film credits include the thrillers Red Lights (2012) and Buried (2010).
His work on Grand Piano was named Best Score at the Cinema Writers Circle Awards in Spain this year.
To relieve the tension, there are moments of comic relief.
There are the two worst concertgoers in the world bickering in loud whispers and flashes of black humour as characters get killed.
There is more enjoyment in store when the mastermind is eventually unmasked and the reason for the unusual request is revealed with a final flourish.
Tinkling the ivories has rarely been this much fun at the movies.
(ST)

Rebel To The Right
Witness Huang
Nine years after his self-titled debut, American-Chinese rapper Witness Huang returns to a warm welcome from the Taiwanese hip-hop fraternity.
On the opening track, MC HotDog guests and Huang boasts: “My music’s going to make everyone high/I’m about to fly/So celebrate my return.”
Some of the tracks here deal with personal history. The Wanderer Returns is about him finding peace in religion, while Everything’s Gonna Be Alright is “about a Taiwanese kid who grew up in Texas”.
There is a sense that this album is about bearing witness to his personal transformation after having been through some tough times. My One And Only is a statement of fidelity from someone who has turned over a new leaf: “But now, I’m after stability/No more mixing alcohol/Just give the all-new Witness, only want just you.”
Stability? Fidelity? He is certainly rebelling against the worst of rap’s stereotypes.
(ST)

Lovelorn Aesthetics
Ming Dao
Previously part of the short-lived boyband 183 Club, which disbanded in the late noughties, Taiwanese actor-model Ming Dao is only now making his debut as a solo act.
The surprise is that he has a pleasant singing voice, one that can stand alone without blending with four other voices.
Unfortunately, the material here, a hodepodge of songs about love, is too generic.
The singer tries too hard to cover all the bases – from the title track that sounds like a synth-heavy Show Lo-lite number, to the ballad Tears Dried By The Wind, on which Ming Dao seems to be channelling Jay Chou (an impression strengthened by lyrics written by Chou’s regular collaborator Vincent Fang).
At least the opening track, Kiss Me, does something different with its big-band sound.
And the breezy pop of I Suddenly Want To Love Her is a theme song crying out for an idol drama.
The album cover has Ming Dao showing off his biceps while clutching a bouquet of roses to send the message that he is both manly and sensitive.
Maybe more lovelorn facets and less aesthetics would have made for a better record.
(ST)

Breakthrough
Luantan-Ascent

Stay
James Morris-Cotterill

Raspy-voiced troubadours are having their moment in the sun. Singer-songwriter Luantan-Ascent has a breakthrough with Breakthrough and British-Chinese newcomer James Morris-Cotterill wants you to Stay.
With his long locks, moustache and brooding mien, Taiwan’s Luantan-Ascent looks like a collection of rocker cliches. His music is anything but.
Two years ago, he won Best Male Vocalist at the prestigious Golden Melody Award for Let You Replace Me (2012), a collection of songs and instrumental pieces he wrote for movies and TV over 10 years. Breakthrough is a more than worthy follow-up.
Inspired by the natural world, the record dives into the sea, emerges on land and takes flight on songs such as Out From Water, Streams In The Desert and Iceberg.
He ponders the relationship among them on Out From Water: “The sky is blue, the sea is bluer/The sea is broad, the land is broader/The land is wide, the sky is boundless”.
At other times, he takes on animal forms. He sings on the dance-rock of Lightning Jellyfish: “I live in the depths of the sea where there is no light/ Swimming pretty freely/Can’t tell whether to love or not”.
The final track here is The Pure World. After traversing the breadth and depth of nature, the album ends on a note of tentative hopefulness: “Am I really existing?/ Or just living along with others/Enough of that”. This is revelatory rock, propelled by everything from buzzing guitars to his magnetic voice.
Also in possession of a compelling set of pipes is James Morris-Cotterill. He opts for a more conventional approach on Stay, which offers a mix of covers and two original English numbers written by him.
He broke out on the TV reality show Chinese Idol last year, when he made it to the top six. Some of the songs he sang in the competition are found here, including Faye Wong’s I’m Willing and Eason Chan’s Long Time No See. And the title track is none other than Rihanna’s Stay.
Impressively, he does not just cover the songs, he manages to put his own spin on them. His own compositions, The Poison and Clarity, suggest an indie folk sensibility reminiscent of Damien Rice.
I would certainly stay around for his album of original material.
(ST)

Brick Mansions
Camille Delamarre
The story: In 2018, a lawless enclave in Detroit, Brick Mansions, is ruled by the likes of drug kingpin Tremaine (RZA). When a powerful bomb is stolen by his gang, undercover cop Damien Collier (Paul Walker) has to infiltrate the area placed under martial law. To find the weapon and disarm it, he has to rely on Brick Mansions denizen and ex-convict Lino (David Belle) for help. As the timer on the bomb counts down to zero, Damien begins to question everything he thought he knew. A remake of the French film District 13 (2004).

There is a whiff of the familiar about Brick Mansions, and not just because it is a remake of District 13.
The late Paul Walker plays an undercover cop who has to work with criminal elements to battle a ruthless villain. It could well describe his work at one point or another on the popular The Fast And The Furious movie franchise.
Like his character, the movie too feels rather generic with its mix of swaggering villains, corrupt cops and earnest heroes with mad skills and a curious ability to dodge bullets. There is also not much chemistry in the odd couple pairing of cop and ex-convict.
The most fun parts in the movie are the parkour sequences.
Belle, who had also starred in District 13, is one of the founders of the urban sport.
And it is a joy to watch him jump over obstacles, scale walls and leap across buildings with such confident fluidity. It is as though he were a cat certain of his many lives.
There is less for Walker to do here; he was stretched more acting-wise in Hours (2014), in which he played a father trying to keep his newborn daughter alive in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. He showed in that high-concept film that there was more to him than being easy on the eyes as he channelled charm, grief, anger and desperation.
What Brick Mansions does offer are several chase scenes.
And knowing that Walker died in a high-speed crash makes them a tad uncomfortable to watch. At least director Camille Delamarre is not guilty of poor judgment in post-production – the action sequences do not end in fiery blasts.
One wonders if Fast & Furious 7, which is slated for release next year and Walker’s final film, will exercise similar restraint.
(ST)

Oculus
Mike Flanagan
The story: Eleven years ago, siblings Tim, 10, and Kaylie, 13, were traumatised by the horrific deaths of their parents in a new house. Now, released from a psychiatric hospital, Tim (Brenton Thwaites) wants to move on, but Kaylie (Karen Gillan) is convinced that an antique mirror housing a demonic presence is responsible for what happened. With her brother’s help, she plans to outwit the spirit and destroy the mirror.

Made on a paltry budget, a horror flick goes on to scare up healthy takings at the American box office.
It is a formula that Blumhouse Productions has honed to perfection with the Paranormal Activity, Insidious and Sinister franchises.
Its hot streak continues with Oculus, which it made with Intrepid Pictures and WWE Studios. The movie had a budget of US$5 million (S$6.3 million) and has earned more than US$21 million at the American box office after two weekends.
As opposed to more generic fare, there is an attempt to give the audience characters to root for and a little more complexity to the storytelling.
Director and co-writer Mike Flanagan splits the action between the two periods. Sometimes, it is clear which period it is in and, at other times, it seems to be the older characters regressing to their helpless and frightened younger selves in the present – under the influence of a mirror.
Or is it just Kaylie’s overactive imagination? She goes to great lengths in her preparations to take down the mirror, from setting alarms to go off every hour to remind them to eat, to having surveillance cameras record every moment and having her fiance call to check in regularly.
There is some early tension between her and Tim as he resorts to more plausible and rational arguments to counter her unshakeable belief, backed by research, that the mirror is responsible for deaths.
Did either of them have false memories? Is Kaylie just paranoid? Is Tim fully recovered or is denial his coping mechanism?
And why can’t somebody just smash the mirror already?
At least Oculus, which means eye, provides an answer to that basic loophole.
Eventually, things start to get spooky with lights going out, perceptions of reality getting warped and some icky scenes of characters causing bodily harm to themselves. At least they were not scored to an intrusive and overbearing music track.
While intercutting between past and present was a nice touch, the film drags on for too long before ending almost abruptly on a shocking note.
Crucially, the ending does not cheat and the integrity of the film is not shattered with a cop-out answer.
(ST)

Disney's Muppets: Most Wanted
James Bobin
The story: Picking right up from the happy ending of The Muppets (2011), the gang have to figure out what to do next now that they are reunited. Dominic Badguy (Ricky Gervais) suggests that they go on tour with him as their manager. His nefarious reason for doing so is soon revealed – criminal mastermind Constantine escapes from a gulag and switches place with his lookalike, Kermit the Frog. Dominic and Constantine have their eyes on the British crown jewels, as Interpol’s Jean Pierre Napoleon (Ty Burrell) and CIA agent Sam Eagle get on the case. Meanwhile, Kermit finds himself stuck in Siberian prison with a zealous guard Nadya (Tina Fey).

Exotic locales, more stars and a (slightly) bigger budget – it looks at first as though this flick, a crime caper which ricochets from Berlin to Madrid to London to Siberia, has been saddled with the ills of sequelitis.
Instead of Jason Segel, Amy Adams and Chris Cooper, comedians Gervais (from television’s The Office), Fey (of 30 Rock fame) and Burrell (the lovable goofball patriarch from Modern Family) are the key non-Muppet actors. They are joined by the likes of Lady Gaga and Tom Hiddleston (The Avengers) making cameos.
But the entertaining mix of anarchic energy and endearing good-heartedness remains from the previous film.
There is humour here but generally not of the ironic, too-cool-for-school variety – well, except for a pointed reference in the opening musical number to the fact that sequels are never as good as the films that come before them.
Otherwise, it is old-school humour that makes you moan or smile, sometimes both.
Exhibit one: The villain here is named Badguy. Exhibit two: Burrell’s moustachioed French inspector lives up to every cliche about laidback Europeans and their penchant for long lunches and holidays.
There are also the quick throwaway jokes squeezed into the frame. Slow news week: “Muppets dominate headlines” is a blink-and- you-will-miss-it faux newspaper headline.
What drives the story forward are tried-and- true devices such as mistaken identity and themes every true-blue Muppet fan knows about – such as the combustible love-hate relationship between Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy.
There are also the pleasures of watching Fey go gaga over Kermit and putting on an Eastern European accent, and the prison inmates delivering an enthusiastic version of the musical A Chorus Line’s opening number.
Now, that is a production with touring potential.
(ST)

Ah Boys To Men: The Musical
Resorts World Theatre
Last Saturday
With more than $14 million in total box-office takings, Jack Neo’s two- parter Ah Boys To Men was a runaway movie hit that made stars of its fresh-faced ensemble cast.
Wanting to leverage on its success was a no-brainer. The big question was how.
For those who cannot wait until Ah Boys To Frogmen comes along, this musical adaptation should be able to tide you over. But if you are not already a fan, this is unlikely to sway you.
This stage production takes the key plotlines of the national service-themed movies with a script by Goh Boon Teck and adds music numbers by producer- songwriter Don Richmond.
The Ah Boys and Men have largely returned. There is Tosh Zhang as the intimidating but good-hearted Sergeant Ong, Wang Weiliang as the street-smart Hokkien soldier Lobang, Maxi Lim as the eager beaver Aloysius Jin and Noah Yap as the lovelorn IP Man.
Taking over from Joshua Tan in the key role of spoilt brat Ken Chow is actor- singer Benjamin Kheng.
And once again, the recruits will learn to be men as they undergo basic military training.
One major advantage the musical has over the movies is its relative brevity. At 21/2 hours long, it moves at a brisker pace compared with the overlong flicks.
But since it is adapted from the films, some of the problems inherent in the movies remain.
Chow is still an unlikable character who is hard to get behind and his turnabout again hinges on a melodramatic accident. His section-mates are still painted in simplistic strokes and are mostly just cardboard characters. And IP Man’s revenge attack on a straying girlfriend (Patricia Mok trying to act cute) still feels like an overstretch.
This is where the casting is crucial. While Chow’s girlfriend crisis barely registers, Kheng at least casts him in a more sympathetic light whenever he sings with his raspy and resonant voice.
And Wang, who was a breakout star in the movies, proves that his charisma translates from the big screen to the stage. Then again, this should not be surprising given his getai background.
Happily, he gets to do a solo number, Brothers Forever, and his slightly raw rendition of the English and Mandarin number strikes just the right note.
Where the musical deviates most is probably in the inclusion of Filipino maid Leticia – but played by Chua Enlai instead of Michelle Chong, who plays a similar character on the television sketch show The Noose.
Dressed in what looks like an incongruous cosplay waitress costume, Chua milks some laughs with a Filipino accent and some funny lines. This is in keeping with director Beatrice Chia-Richmond’s broad and sometimes exaggerated tone.
As for the songs themselves, Cheong Or Geng was the best of the lot. It manages to incorporate army lingo in a natural way and gives voice to two opposing philosophies: “cheong”, which means to go all out, and “geng”, which means faking it to escape tough activities.
Also hitting the spot was the SOC (Standard Obstacle Course) rap as well as the catchy Recruits’ Anthem, the theme song of the first movie written by Zhang.
The hardest song to sit through was probably the English-and-Mandarin duet Father And Son by Richard Low and Kheng. It is meant to evoke the wide gulf between them but it just comes across as jarring because Low is simply not a natural singer.
As far as military-themed musicals go, the most entertaining is still playwright- songwriter Julian Wong’s Botak Boys. Maybe someone should bring that back for another tour of duty.
(ST)

Kimbonomics
Kimberley Chen
Just shy of turning 20, Taiwan-based Kimberley Chen has released the follow-up to her effervescent 2012 debut.
Then, she had managed to pull off the feat of being cute without being cutesy. She sounds more grown-up here but, thankfully, not too much.
After all, she is still a teenager and there is youthful vibrancy on the energetic Good Girl Hurry Up And Love and an endearing sweetness on Over The Moon: “Want to turn into a cat/Follow all your secrets/Hide in your embrace/Not go anywhere.”
Ballads such as Saying I Love You When We Break Up and Loneliness Howls take her in a more mainstream direction but the move never feels false – she still sounds distinctively like herself on them.
And that ability to leave her stamp on whatever she sings bodes well as she steps into her 20s – and on to the next stage of her music journey.
(ST)

Who is the true king or queen of Mandopop? Which are the songs that remain in the minds of fans years after they have been released?
For a radio station’s listeners, Jacky Cheung edges out Jay Chou, A-mei’s power pipes trump Faye Wong’s delicate croon, Stefanie Sun shines among local artists and the smoky vocals of Tiger Huang reign supreme.
An awards show might crown whoever is topping the charts, but it takes a massive exercise like radio station UFM100.3’s U1000 campaign to find the top 1,000 songs to paint a bigger picture.
Starting in February, the station’s listeners, aged 35 to 49, were asked to nominate their top songs in the past 30 years. More than 3,000 songs were suggested and this was winnowed to a final 1,500 based on factors such as chart performances and voting by the station’s DJs.
The public could vote only online for any number of songs and only one vote a song. From March 31 to April 14, the top 1,000 songs they voted were played on the airwaves.
Taiwanese singer Huang’s Not So Simple topped the list of Mandopop songs. This was the title track of her 2009 album, marking a triumphant comeback for the 50-year-old Pub Queen.
Composed by blind singer-songwriter Ricky Hsiao and with lyrics by Daryl Yao, the ballad managed to get under the skin of women of a certain age.
There is a certain weariness to it but Huang remains unbowed in the face of life’s vicissitudes. She comes to terms with who she is as she sings in her weathered, husky voice: “Past the age for dreaming, I would rather have peace and quiet than blazing glory.”
For a song that might have greater appeal for an older crowd, it seems to have tapped into a more universal vein of yearning and learning to let go.
Still, it was something of a surprise to see it top the charts. It is the newest song in the top 10, given that the other tracks are from the mid-noughties and earlier and its pole position cements it as an instant classic.
Facebook user Lynn Teo posted on the radio station’s page: “Thoroughly satisfying. It’s really Not So Simple to guess who would be No. 1. Quite like this song.”
Last year, UFM100.3 held a similar poll for the first time, but limited it to 500 tracks. Not So Simple was No. 41 then, while Faye Wong’s achingly tender Red Bean (1998) emerged tops.
Programme director of UFM100.3 Carine Ang says the station held the poll to find out which songs their listeners really liked and that they think are representative of the music scene. They decided to expand the poll this year after getting feedback that there were too few songs to choose from previously.
And what do the U1000 poll results show?
Chou might be the reigning king but Hong Kong’s Jacky Cheung is known as God of songs not for nothing. Cheung has the most number of songs in U1000 with 27, beating Chou’s count of 26.
More tellingly, Chou has just one song in the top 50 with Blue And White Porcelain (2007) coming in at No. 42. In contrast, Cheung has seven. His highest charting number is the mega-hit Farewell Kiss (1993) in runner-up position.
And Cheung’s successor as God of songs, Eason Chan, managed to chalk up 18 entries.
It really seems that the oldies are goldies based on the poll. Before jumping to the easy lament that the golden age of songs and songwriting is over, the results could have skewed this way for various reasons. The earlier artists emerged at a time with fewer entertainment options and distractions and there was time and space for songs to firmly take root.
The Internet has increased the reach of artists, but it has also fragmented the music market, with every niche taste and genre being catered to.
It could also be the nostalgia factor playing a part – nostalgia not just for the songs themselves, but for the various personal histories they evoke.
Hong Kong’s Four Heavenly Kings no longer have a stranglehold on the entertainment scene but their far- reaching influence remains. Andy Lau charted 18 times, Aaron Kwok seven and Leon Lai had four entries, including Will You Come Tonight (1991) at No. 10.
Among the female singers, Taiwanese diva A-mei powered her way to the top with 26 songs, with No. 8’s Listen To The Sea (1997) being her best performer. She eclipses Faye Wong, Fish Leong and Stefanie Sun, who all have 21 entries each (including duets). And rockers Mayday were the top band with 15 songs.
Younger upstarts were left far behind, including Taiwan’s Yoga Lin, who had just three tracks on the list.
The comparison is not completely fair, given how many more albums the veterans have released. But it suggests that winning a high-profile singing contest and putting out raved-about albums are different things from singing songs that people want to return to over time.
Of course, even a massive exercise such as this cannot be completely representative. The results will vary if it is held over a different period of time with a different survey pool and different voting methods. But even an imperfect poll can yield interesting results.
Local singers had a good showing.
Sun had 21 entries, Kit Chan and JJ Lin had 12 and Tanya Chua had eight. Mavis Hee had six entries, including the highest-charting local song with her hit Moonlight In The City (1996) at No. 4.
In part buoyed by the currently running xinyao musical If There’re Seasons, the Singapore folk movement also made quite an impact on the chart. The title track (from 2002) by Kit Chan was No. 12 while xinyao stalwart Liang Wern Fook’s Friendship Forever (1987) was No. 16. He had a total of six tracks on the poll, including The Sparrow With A Bamboo Twig (1990), previously banned from the airwaves for its dialect content, at No. 253.
And even though the initial call was for songs from the last 30 years, the late songbird Teresa Teng trilled her way to five spots, including The Moon Represents My Heart from the early 1970s at No. 56.
Going by this poll, there is no simple formula to determine what goes into an enduring song. Love ballads dominate, but that is not surprising given that they are the mainstay of mainstream Mandopop. Exactly what kind of love ballad would resonate though is the question that composers, lyricists and singers are all chasing after.
What the poll does show though is that you cannot put a good song down.

The top 20 tracks
1 Not So Simple: Tiger Huang
2 Farewell Kiss: Jacky Cheung
3 Love Tidal Wave: Jeff Chang
4 Moonlight In The City: Mavis Hee
5 Fairytale: Michael Wong
6 Red Bean: Faye Wong
7 Ten Years: Eason Chan
8 Listen To The Sea: A-mei
9 A Game, A Dream: Dave Wang
10 Will You Come Tonight: Leon Lai
11 How Can You Bear To Make Me Sad: Huang Pin-yuan
12 If There’re Seasons: Kit Chan (right)
13 Conquer: Na Ying
14 Dream To Awakening: Sarah Chen
15 Can’t Help Falling In Love With You: Harlem Yu
16 Friendship Forever: Liang Wern Fook
17 Love Letter: Jacky Cheung
18 Little Love Song: sodagreen
19 Home: Kit Chan
20 At Least There Is You: Sandy Lam

The full results are available at www.ufm1003.sg
(ST)

That Demon Within
Dante Lam
The story: Hon Kong (Nick Cheung) is a ruthless criminal who dons a demon king mask when committing audacious heists with his gang. Hunted down by the police, he ends up wounded in a hospital, where cop Dave Wong (Daniel Wu) unwittingly saves him. There appears to be a deeper connection between the two men though and the encounter shakes loose Dave’s already tenuous grip on reality.

Hong Kong’s Dante Lam and Nick Cheung have been a winning combination in their past collaborations.
Cheung won Best Actor at the Hong Kong Film Awards for action thriller Beast Stalker (2008) and just recently for the mixed martial-arts flick Unbeatable (2013), which was also nominated for Best Film and Best Director.
They are not an infallible duo though, and That Demon Within is a murky thriller that is clumsy in execution.
Partly it is because the reliable Cheung takes a backseat to the less compelling Daniel Wu (Control, 2013) here. Wu is more convincing as the rigid cop who is an absolute stickler for procedure and doing the right thing than as a man who begins to unravel.
And Lam’s heavy-handed and literal approach borders on the cheesy.
When Dave goes into a blind rage, the screen gets tinted with red. I was half expecting him to turn green next and morph into the angry Hulk.
The jerky stop-start pacing was also distracting. And then the film starts focusing on the gang behind the heists as they turn upon one another.
The idea of a funeral parlour serving as a front for vicious robbers is an interesting one. Stolen goods are smuggled in coffins and dead bodies and the setting is unusual and distinctive.
But instead of just exploring this one idea, Lam throws it into this messy movie which also wants to tackle the thin line between good and evil. The movie is further muddied with an excursion into mental instability.
As Dave loses his grip on reality, he plunges into a downward spiral that even a well-meaning superior cannot pull him out of.
The film ends with a flashback that is meant to shed light on his condition. But it will leave you with more questions than answers.

Beast In The Dark
Roger Yang Pei-an
Now this is more like it from Taiwanese singer Roger Yang.
His last album was the ill-conceived disc of English covers, Those Years (2011). He shakes off the torpor from that offering and unleashes his inner rock beast here.
His powerhouse, octave-scaling vocals are put to good use on evocatively bittersweet love songs.
On the title track, he teeters on the edge: “Love is like a beast that is deep in sleep/Because of the fear of getting hurt/I have no expectations of love/Can’t shake off this loneliness.”
The mood is sombre on Lonely Lovers as well: “The lovers are not hurt, they’re just not together/ Trust has not surrendered, there’s just no hope.”
It is not all doom and gloom, though. The vibe is more upbeat and optimistic on The Cocoon Of Life and Dream Racer. But it is tracks such as Beast which will draw you back into the album’s fold.
(ST)

Sabotage
David Ayer
The story: Breacher (Arnold Schwarzenegger) is the leader of a Drug Enforcement Agency special ops team, which includes Monster (Sam Worthington) and his wife Lizzy (Mireille Enos), Grinder (Joe Manganiello), Sugar (Terrence Howard) and Neck (Josh Holloway). During a raid, they squirrel away US$10 million (S$12.5 million) for themselves but the money goes missing when they return for it. And then the members of the team start getting killed one after another in horrific ways.

This is quite a gathering of one-time stars.
There is Holloway from television’s Lost, Oscar-nominated Howard from indie drama Hustle & Flow (2005) and yesterday’s It Guy, and Worthington (Avatar, 2009). Then there is the granddaddy of them all, beefcake action star- turned-politician-turned-ageing action veteran Schwarzenegger.
They were all probably hoping to revive their sagging fortunes with this film – a la The Expendables franchise for has-been actions stars – but they might have just sabotaged themselves instead.
Writer-director David Ayer (End Of Watch, 2012) sets up the premise of the missing money at the start and then proceeds to abandon that in favour of a mystery-slasher flick as people start dropping like flies.
The tableaux of gruesome scenes feel like rejects from more elaborately stomach-turning murders on TV shows such as Hannibal, Dexter and True Detective.
Meanwhile, the survivors go all macho and aggressive in their posturing, with Enos (World War Z, 2013) possibly being the craziest of the lot.
More semi-famous names pop up as investigators as Olivia Williams (Dollhouse, 2009-2010) and Harold Perrineau (Oz, 1997-2003) look into the deaths. Jarringly, Williams’ character has a fling with Arnie’s Breacher.
By the time the movie reaches its perfunctory chase-scene ending, everyone is behaving like idiotic amateurs instead of the top special ops agents they are supposed to be.
Motivations are revealed and masks stripped away as revelations tumble out to no particularly compelling effect.
The last few minutes wrap up the film in indecent haste as vengeance is finally exacted. It is the final act of self-sabotage.
(ST)

Hello
Wang Dawen
What better way to introduce yourself than with a simple and cheery Hello?
Over a bright and breezy track, Wang Dawen (above) sings on his Mandarin debut album: “Hello, it starts to revolve from this greeting/Hello, let me slowly get close to you/Is that fine?”
The American singer-songwriter tackled hard-hitting topics such as racial stereotypes and prejudice on his English-language album, American Me (2009).
There is no sign of the angry young man here though. Instead, there are mostly light and sunny tracks about love on numbers such as Firecracker and Beautiful.
Even the lone English track here, Shoes, swings along even as it gently touches upon Asian identity. “Baby, won’t you take off your shoes/Cause shoes really go outside/I know it’s not what you’re used to/Maybe it’s an Asian thing.”
On the other songs, his diction is still a little raw at times. But for someone who took intensive language classes in Taiwan to release this record, it is impressive that he had a hand in the lyrics of six of the nine Mandarin tracks.
So hello, Dawen, I think we will be seeing you around.
(ST)

The Zero Theorem
Terry Gilliam
The story: In a dystopian Orwellian world, Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz) is a cog in a giant company, Mancom. He is assigned to the maddeningly difficult zero theorem and waits for an all-important phone call which would reveal to him the meaning of life. He gets distracted, and helped, by femme fatale Bainsley (Melanie Thierry) and Bob (Lucas Hedges), the teenage son of Management (Matt Damon).

It is nominally science-fiction but film-maker Terry Gilliam has made such distinctive forays into the genre that his works deserve their own label, say, weird-fi.
Brazil (1985) is about a man searching for a woman who appears in his dreams. 12 Monkeys (1995) involves Bruce Willis travelling back in time to find a cure for a deadly virus.
Gilliam has called The Zero Theorem the finale of a dystopian satire trilogy which started with those two movies. It involves yet another quixotic quest, in a society which has gone off-kilter with garish consumerism, in-your-face advertising and constant surveillance.
This is a world in which the gamer geeks of today might rule. Leth (an intense and oddly compelling Waltz like a monk in fevered pursuit of the truth) is among the best of them, staring intently at a screen as he fiddles with a joystick and goes through a series of arcane motions which are supposed to serve some obscure purpose.
The zero theorem he is assigned to work on looks like some complicated mathematics game, one which seems arbitrary and unsolvable. What it is supposed to prove is that, ultimately, life has no purpose.
Little wonder that working on it does nothing for Leth’s existential angst.
But is he a madman or is he actually on the verge of figuring out the meaning of life and what makes it worthwhile?
It is a pivotal question which drives the film along with the satirical potshots. The surveillance camera in Leth’s crumbling church of a home is pointedly mounted on a headless figure of Christ. And Management is elusive, enigmatic and ruthlessly pragmatic.
The movie also features colourful characters such as Tilda Swinton as a programmed shrink and Lucas Hedges as a world-weary teenager sorely in need of a father figure. And Thierry nicely balances sexy and sweet as she skilfully seduces and then comes to care for Leth.
Every Gilliam film offers glimpses into that singular mind of his. It is not a place one would want to get lost in and you probably will not understand what is going on at some point.
It means that watching his films can be challenging and, at points, The Zero Theorem will test your patience and make you wonder what the point of it all is.
But if anyone is closer to getting the cosmic joke which is the universe than Leth, it would be Gilliam.
(ST)

Top 3 sodagreen albums

LITTLE UNIVERSE (2006)
The moment the bagpipes herald the opening track You Are, You Will signalled that this was the album on which sodagreen’s music world burst wide open. From the seething discontent on Little Universe to the innocence and purity of Little Love Song, the band plumb the different aspects of life with aplomb.
The album racked up seven nominations at the Golden Melody Awards and won two – for Best Band and Best Melody for Wu Ching-feng for Little Love Song.
Unfortunately, sodagreen rarely perform Little Love Song live anymore. They have performed it so many times that at one point, Wu asked those who requested it: “Aren’t you tired of it?”
The answer, of course, is no.

DAYLIGHT OF SPRING (2009)
In a nutshell, this is one of the best Mandopop albums – ever.
It is a gorgeous record which manages to capture the ephemeral beauty of spring and the hope it brings even as it embraces the shadows that light always casts. It reached No. 2 on Taiwan’s G-Music album chart.
Before The Snow Melts is oh-so-tender as it welcomes oncoming spring like a lover while there is joy and celebration in Daylight. For the delicate Stopping At Each Station, Wu flits between the higher and lower registers like the butterfly of the song. And Symphonic Dream casts a spell as it navigates between sleep and wakefulness, thirst and rain as well as waiting and arrival.
There were Golden Melody Award nominations for Best Band and Best Album Production. The song Daylight was also nominated for Best Arranger and won for Best Music Video.
Each track works on its own and all the tracks magically coalesce into a whole greater than the sum of their parts.

WHAT IS TROUBLING YOU (2011)
Even when they are at less than full strength, sodagreen continue to fire on all cylinders.
Because of guitarist A-fu’s national service stint, the band had to release an album without him. He is also absent from the album cover.
This is no mere filler album, though – one aural treat follows another. From the contemplative The Limits Of Happiness to the sweet duet with S.H.E’s Ella Chen, I Wrote Of You In My Song, from the moving ballad Enjoy Loneliness to the gospel-tinged title track, this is the sound of a band in confident form.
It topped the G-Music album chart and sodagreen notched up another nomination for Best Band at the Golden Melody Awards.
(ST)

Re:Workz
Sandy Lam
For those who love Hong Kong singer Sandy Lam’s voice, Re:Workz is a treat you will not want to miss.
It is also her first mostly Cantonese album since 2005’s S/L.
While the material is familiar, it is not merely a slapdash effort at warming over cold dishes.
It is clear that a lot of care and thought has gone into remaking her past works. Her clear and heart-warming pipes are front and centre here with some choice instrumentation.
Opening track Naked Secret, from Sandy ’94 (1994), is a revelation. Stripped of its synth arrangements, the song gets a new lease of life and Lam has never sounded as tender as she does here.
But with the close-miking process, she ends up sounding a little too breathy on some tracks, such as Breaking Dawn, composed by Dick Lee.
The lone new number here is Avery Jane, a mid-tempo slice of lightly groovy pop about growing older and wiser.
She croons: “Can’t withstand being buffeted by wind and rain, who discovers/The light after the clouds/Getting a little hurt will toughen you up.”
The accompanying DVD comes with black-and-white music videos for Avery Jane as well as Naked Secret, and also gives an insight into the work process.
Video clips show a nurturing and relaxed environment as Lam works with musicians such as her music producer boyfriend Jun Kung and blind pianist Jezrael Lucero.
The classy results speak for themselves.
(ST)

Beijing Love Story
Chen Sicheng
The story: Five interconnected stories about love unfold, mostly in modern-day Beijing. Chen Feng (Chen Sicheng) falls in love with Shen Yan (Tong Liya) the moment he sets eyes on her. Chen’s boss Wu Zheng (Wang Xuebing) is a philanderer with a long-suffering wife Zhang Lei (Yu Nan). She finds out and then meets up with Liu Hui (Tony Leung Ka Fai). Liu is later seen seemingly on a rendezvous with Jialing (Carina Lau) in Greece. Liu objects to his teenaged daughter Xingyang (Ouyang Nana) taking part in a talent show on television but Song Ge (Liu Haoran), who has a crush on her, has a plan to make that happen. Finally, Song’s grandfather Wang Daqi (Wang Qingxiang) is being set up on blind dates by Gao Lu (Siqin Gaowa). Wang seems to hit it off with Xie Aijia (Elaine Jin), who gets upset when she finds out who Gao really is.

One of these things is not like the others, goes the chant from the children’s programme Sesame Street. And in this case, the odd one out is the segment featuring Hong Kong-based stars Leung and Lau.
Given that it takes place on a Greek island, it does not even fit into the theme spelt out in the title. It also happens to be the weakest tale of the lot as Leung and Lau bicker and banter through a lacklustre game of truth-or-dare.
Apart from this glaring mis-step, the rest of the vignettes offer some interesting snapshots of the different stages of relationships in the metropolis that is Beijing today.
It is a decent effort from writer-director-actor Chen Sicheng, who had also written and directed the 2012 television series of the same name. The film is not a continuation of the series though and features a new story and characters.
Chen and Shen, played by real-life couple Chen Sicheng and Tong Liya, who met on the TV show of the same name, fall in love impetuously but the economic realities of getting married in the bustling city soon press in on them. Shen’s mother is disdainful of the fact that he lives in a cramped apartment and, meanwhile, Shen’s well-off ex makes her an indecent proposal.
The housing pressures faced by the young couple will probably strike a chord with viewers here as well.
The segment with Chen’s Lothario boss strikes a more cynical note. He makes this observation at one point: “Love is like a ghost, everyone’s heard of it but no one’s seen it.”
In contrast, the puppy love episode with Song and Xingyang is mostly sweet, with a sprinkling of poignant bitterness, as she will be leaving China soon to study abroad.
From young infatuation, the film jumps to love and companionship in one’s golden years.
Helmed by an award-winning trio of veterans – Wang Qingxiang, Siqin Gaowa and Elaine Jin – this is probably the strongest and most touching segment.
The actors find the notes of comedy, tenderness and tragedy in this senior citizen triangle and play them with grace.
(ST)

The Lunchbox
Ritesh Batra
The story: Ila (Nimrat Kaur) tries to get her husband’s attention by trying something new in the kitchen. But thanks to a mix-up in the lunchbox delivery system in Mumbai, her tiffin carrier of home-cooked goodness goes to Saajan Fernandez (Irrfan Khan), a loner office worker about to retire. Thus begins an exchange of handwritten notes between the two and an unlikely friendship develops.

The dabbawallas are part of a fascinating food delivery system in Indian cities in which freshly cooked meals make their way to thousands of office workers every day. It is a daunting task, given the numbers involved, the challenging state of Indian traffic and the fact that most of the dabbawallas, or carriers, are illiterate.
Drawing inspiration from this feat of logistical wonder, writer-director Ritesh Batra has come up with a moving tale about urban loneliness and human connection. The Hindi and English film is also a portrait of modern India, one that is not cloaked in over-the-top song and dance but is instead rooted in everyday life.
The opening scenes have a quasi-documentary feel to them as we follow the journey of one particular lunchbox from Ila’s kitchen to its final destination. When it makes its way back to her, completely empty, we share her joy, and disappointment when she realises a mistake was made in the delivery. The mistake though sets off a chain of events that will ultimately change her life.
Despite making his debut feature, Batra shows an assured grasp of story-telling as he deftly handles moments of drama, comedy and tragedy. And as the film’s distributor kindly cautioned, do not watch the film on an empty stomach or the food scenes will tip your hunger pangs over the edge.
Batra is also able to coax finely wrought characterisations from the actors. There is not a single false note in how the story develops and in the sensitive and naturalistic performances.
Award-winning Bollywood actor Khan (Life Of Pi, 2012) goes from being a curmudgeonly widower to a man who believes in life again, while film and stage actress Kaur (Peddlers, 2012) thoroughly slips under the skin of a regular wife and mother who begins to find her own voice.
The epistolary device may be old-fashioned but Batra and his co-writer Rutvik Oza have found a way to make it work in a modern-day setting. In an age of text messages and e-mail, the handwritten notes confer a conspiratorial intimacy between Ila and Saajan. The forms of address they use for each other further flesh out the characters, particularly as we get to hear the tone in the voiceovers. Saajan writes “Dear Ila”, exuding the easy confidence of an older man; Ila begins her notes with “Hello” without adding a name, a little distant as if aware of the possible impropriety.
Surrounding the two main roles is an indelible cast of supporting characters. There is the heard-but-not-seen Auntie upstairs who dishes out cooking and all other kinds of advice to Ila as well as Shaikh (Nawazuddin Siddiqui), the new guy taking over Saajan’s job. Shaikh seems at first to be too slick for his own good but gradually, he bonds with Saajan over shared lunches and train journeys.
It is Shaikh who shares with Saajan a piece of homespun homily: Sometimes, the wrong train can get one to the right station.
As Saajan and Ila’s relationship deepens, the movie teases us: Do they meet up? What happens when they do? Will there be a happy ending?
Early on, Ila thanks Saajan for giving her something to hope for while waiting for the tiffin carrier’s return. And it is what the film’s ending does, holding out the possibility of hope for Saajan, and also for the audience, as a group of dabawallas chant away joyously.

Pluto
Kiat Goh
The debut album from local singer Kiat Goh takes the listener on an unusual journey. From Pluto to Belt Of Venus to North Star, the titles alone conjure up images of celestial bodies traversing the vastness of space.
It is a classy and cohesive record with music by Goh and lyrics by Johnson Ong, who has written for veteran artist Tracy Huang.
There is a lazy, jazzy vibe on the track Aurora as he sings: “Thinking of you in this coldest season/My heart is pounding/Can you come closer to me and warm my heart.”
The classically trained Goh has a richly warm voice which offers refuge in the inky darkness.
On the lead single Pluto, he croons over plaintive strings: “Hey, through the vicissitudes of the world/Happiness still lies by your side/Trapped in a cold world/Love is icebound and forever sealed away.”
A consistently compelling journey.
(ST)

The Wind Rises
Hayao Miyazaki
The story: Inspired by the Italian plane designer Giovanni Battista Caproni (Nomura Mansai), Jiro Horikoshi (Hideaki Anno) dreams of flight as a young boy. After studying engineering at university, he works for an airplane manufacturer and eventually succeeds in coming up with a fast aircraft, the Mitsubishi A5M. Both the A5M and its successor, the Mitsubishi A6M Zero, were used by Japan during World War II. Along the way, Jiro falls in love with Naoko (Miori Takimoto), a girl he meets on a train journey disrupted by the Great Kanto earthquake of 1923. Based on writer-director Hayao Miyazaki’s manga adaptation of a 1937 short story of the same name by Tatsuo Hori.

Japan’s master of animation Hayao Miyazaki is the man behind some of my favourite flights of fancy.
From My Neighbour Totoro (1988) to Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989) to Spirited Away (2001), he has created gorgeously rendered worlds in which tales of bravery and magic unfold.
The Wind Rises, however, does not soar to the same heights.
Perhaps to some extent, he was kept earthbound by the fact that this was a story based on the real-life character of Horikoshi, chief engineer of various World War II Japanese fighter designs.
In the first place, it was a controversial choice of subject matter given Japanese military aggression and the association of the Zero plane with kamikaze suicide missions during the war.
Miyazaki is careful not to glorify war and destruction.
Early on, Horikoshi’s mother says to him: “Fighting is never justified.” And his role model Caproni says more explicitly that “the dream of flight is cursed” – a thing of beauty can be an instrument of nightmare as well.
At the same time, there is the idea that all we can do is try to survive in tumultuous times.
“The wind is rising, we must try to live”, from French poet Paul Valery’s The Graveyard By The Sea, is a couplet that is repeated several times in the movie.
It is not fully persuasive though and the prickly question of Horikoshi’s culpability in the building of war machines is too readily resolved with a throwaway line: “We’re not arms merchants, we just want to build good aircraft.”
As a movie, The Wind Rises is, as always for a Studio Ghibli feature, beautifully illustrated. Miyazaki pays attention to the little details and that helps to bring the animated world vividly alive.
For example, in a scene of Horikoshi and Naoko rushing back to her home after the earthquake strikes, as they move against the flow of people fleeing, they catch the attention of a boy who glances at them curiously.
It could do with better pacing, though.
The film delved at length into the technicalities of plane design and the human element felt a bit short-changed.
Horikoshi and Naoko’s relationship is not that compelling as well, though there is a lovely wedding sequence between the two.
Hopefully, this will not be Miyazaki’s last film as announced. By one count, this is apparently his sixth retirement. There could well be wind still left in his sails.
(ST)

Mosaic Music Festival
Neko Case
Esplanade Concert Hall/Sunday

The Worse Things Get, The Harder I Fight, The Harder I Fight, The More I Love You (2013) was forged in a time of loss and despair. You would not know it though from Neko Case’s polite interactions with the audience.
The American singer- songwriter’s new album was written in the shadow of the deaths of her grandmother and her estranged parents and contains some of her most personal work to date.
But she did not refer to the difficult circumstances or rocky relationships directly, preferring to speak through her music instead.
One of the key moments in the concert was when she performed the hauntingly spare Nearly Midnight, Honolulu.
It was just her voice and some vocal accompaniment as she recounted an overheard outburst from mother to child: “Get the f*** away from me!/Why don’t you ever shut up?”
The connection seemed personal though when she sang: “They won’t believe you/When you say ‘My mother, she did not love me’.”
The lyrics are often enigmatic though and on the wonderfully atmospheric Night Still Comes, she croons repeatedly: “You never held it at the right angle.”
It is either an oblique admonishment or her advice to those who fail to take satisfactory selfies.
Regardless, there is a hint of huskiness at the edge of her voice that keeps the songs compelling. It was a versatile instrument that went from tenderly poignant on Calling Cards to ringing with accusation on Local Girl and the appreciative crowd took it all in.
The Grammy-nominated Case has often been tagged as alternative country and you can see why. Her music has some of that twangy melancholia of the country genre but it is more expansive and ambitious. Added to the mix of guitars and drums are the occasional banjo and tambourine and, memorably on Calling Cards, a trombone.
Meanwhile, backing vocalist Kelly Hogan provided some beautiful harmonies. She was also the one who engaged the audience the most, from encouraging people to just let go and yell “woo”, to sharing that Singapore’s heat was not friendly towards menopause.
Case and company also generated some heat of their own with Man. It came on with a swagger of guitars and attitude as she played about with gender identity, proclaiming “I’m a man” and provocatively declaring “you didn’t know what a man was/Until I showed you”.
The singer was one of the acts closing the Mosaic Music Festival on Sunday, bringing the 10-year well-loved event to an end, for now.
Until the next phase of Mosaic comes along, thank you for the music and for showing Singapore what a home-grown music festival can achieve.
(ST)

Alone The Way
Jia Jia
Her solo debut was Unforgettable (2013), and Taiwanese singer Jia Jia’s follow-up to that is very much so as well.
Her voice is a healing balm with which she tenderly comforts on lead single Sing For Lonely Souls: “I’m not the one you love/But I’m still willing to sing for your loneliness”.
You feel the ache on the ballad Unqualified, as strings swell and she acknowledges a painful truth: “I’m not qualified to let you ache for me/Keeping you by my side, yet not able to give you any happiness”.
The bluesy Unfree is a heartfelt and soulful cry for freedom, penned by Hao En.
The two had previously collaborated on the Golden Melody Award-winning Blue In Love (2006).
Jia Jia also has no problems tackling faster tempos.
Unanswerable swings lightly to a jazz groove, while Chocolate oozes sassiness and sultriness as she sings: “I want you, want you to fall into the trap/Quietly sidle close, grooving to the same frequency”.
She wants to sing for you along the whole way and not just when you are lonely.
(ST)

Labor Day
Jason Reitman
The story: An injured Frank Chambers (Josh Brolin) approaches 13-year-old Henry (Gattlin Griffith) for help at the mall. His divorced mother Adele (Kate Winslet) reluctantly agrees to take him back to their home and it is eventually revealed that Frank is an escaped prisoner on the run. He remains at their house over the course of the Labor Day holiday weekend in 1987 as the local police seek to track him down. Based on the 2009 novel of the same name by Joyce Maynard.

Call me cynical, but when you have an escaped prisoner in your home, that is not the time to be letting down your guard.
Not even when the runaway in question happens to be Frank Chambers, a man who is clearly gunning for Escaped Prisoner Of The Year, possibly of all time. He makes himself useful as the man about the house – cleaning out rain gutters, fixing the wheezy car and even bonds with Henry over baseball.
Instead of a sensuously tactile pottery-making scene (see Ghost, 1990), there is a tactile scene brimming with family wholesomeness as the three of them make pie together – even as there is a hint of a nascent attraction between Adele and Frank.
The movie is really a portrayal of Stockholm syndrome taken to a ludicrous extent. Not only do the hostages come to care for their captor, Adele actually falls for him. From trying to get him out of the house as soon as possible, she begins to suggest that he should stay on until his injury heals.
That the laughable premise is not completely unbelievable is due to the decent cast.
Brolin (True Grit, 2010) has to go from exuding a sense of menace to, essentially, playing a romantic lead.
The transition is still jarring, but it could have been worse. And it is no surprise that when his past is told through flashbacks, we learn that his biggest crime was being gullible – which would be our crime, too, if we bought into the idea touted here that all Adele needs is a real man, defined in the most cliched manner here.
Winslet’s portrayal of her role with an admirable touching vulnerability is wasted.
Coming from director Jason Reitman, who has helmed smarter and funnier works such as Thank You For Smoking (2005), Juno (2007) and Up In The Air (2009), Labor Day feels disappointingly like drudge work.
(ST)

Kepler
Stefanie Sun
Stefanie Sun is, first and foremost, a pop star.
She is not a singer-songwriter who channels her life experiences into music and words such as, say, Tanya Chua. So it is probably unrealistic to expect this new album – her first in three years, and since she got married and gave birth to her first child – to reflect entirely on her new identities as a wife and a mother.
Still, given how she has dabbled in composing and writing lyrics before, it is a bit disappointing that she does not contribute any original material here.
There are hints, though, of maternal warmth – notably on lead single Kepler. “Can’t wait for you to be my brightest star/I’m still willing to lend you my light/Projecting onto you, until your brilliant light/Gently hangs upon the distant sky,” she sings on the track she has already publicly dedicated to her 16-month-old son. Is it my imagination or is there a motherly tenderness to the way she caresses the lyrics?
What one can expect, and which Sun delivers, is a reliably listenable record delivered in that singular voice of hers.
On rousing number Infinite Possibilities, she encourages the listener: “A certain dinner with only the sounds of knife and fork/Turn a certain corner and there are infinite possibilities”.
The beautiful ballads here, such as Angel’s Fingerprints and Thirst, will no doubt scale the charts.
Some of the loveliest moments on the album are quietly tucked away near the end: she shines on the gently moving Mirage and the lightly jazzy Happier, composed by Chua.
Not quite as bold as the statementmaking Stefanie (2004) or as compelling as It’s Time (2011), Kepler remains a worthy addition to Sun’s body of work.
(ST)

The Necessary Death Of Charlie Countryman
Fredrik Bond
The story: After the death of his mother, Charlie Countryman (Shia LaBeouf) goes to Bucharest. There, he falls hard for Gabi (Evan Rachel Wood), a cellist married to the menacing and volatile Nigel (Mads Mikkelsen). Charlie is determined to woo the beautiful musician, even at the cost of his own life. Along the way, he crosses paths with yet another shady operator, Darko (Til Schweiger), and gets high with his dopey roommates (Rupert Grint plays one of them, Carl).

When a film such as The Necessary Death Of Charlie Countryman comes along, it affirms the existence of movie chemistry. Because there is none here between Charlie Countryman (LaBeouf) and Gabi (Wood).
And that is a problem when the movie is supposed to be driven by Charlie’s intense passion for Gabi.
They meet under intense circumstances as her father (Ion Caramitru) sits next to Charlie on a plane and ends up dead mid-flight.
You know Charlie is head over heels in love with the Romanian beauty the first time he lays eyes on her, a picture of grief with her mascara-streaked face, because time slows and his face lights up.
The scene feels faintly ludicrous, though, because the two leads are such an unlikely pairing. Not unlikely in a fascinating “how is this going to work out” way, more of a case of “I don’t buy this at all”.
One-time golden boy LaBeouf (Transformers, 2007, and Indiana Jones And The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull, 2008) does his earnest best, but he has to work with a script in which one unlikely thing happens after another.
Charlie gets tasered at the airport, lands in a bohemian youth hostel and finds himself with wacky roommates.
As one of the British roommates, Grint puts the family-friendly Harry Potter franchise firmly behind him as he plays Carl, an aspiring porn actor who goes by the name of Boris Pecker.
He leads Charlie further down the rabbit hole after he overdoses on Viagra and creates a scene at a strip club.
Bucharest comes across as a cowboy town populated freely by thuggish gangsters such as Nigel and Darko, who create a whole lot of trouble for Gabi and Charlie because her father possessed incriminating videotape evidence of them.
It is probably safe to assume that the Romanian tourism office had nothing to do with this film. It would not have approved the lame running joke confusing Bucharest with Budapest.
The film marks the directorial debut of Fredrik Bond, a veteran of commercials and music videos who was clearly gunning for an off-kilter, crazy-cool vibe to the film.
Well, he might have partially achieved his aim. Charlie Countryman is crazy without being cool, and all I see is the mismatched couple at the centre of it.
(ST)

Eason's Life In Singapore
Singapore Indoor Stadium
Last Saturday
If life is a song for Hong Kong’s Eason Chan, it is one he sings beautifully.
His richly emotive voice is intoxicating and it is the best reason to watch and hear him perform live.
He also has a natural exuberance on stage which always makes for a fun show.
There is no need for too many bells and whistles and indeed, the stage set-up last Saturday was kept simple with a central stepped platform flanked by with two colourful shipping containers.
And so was his entrance. He bellowed in English: “Hello, welcome to my life”, and went straight into the sweetly optimistic Cantonese ballad One Thing A Day from H3M (2009).
He switched between Cantonese and Mandarin offerings from the contemplative Tourbillon to the upbeat That’s Just Life. And who cared that it was only March when he crooned the achingly tender Lonely Xmas?
Some of his songs had two versions and it was amusing watching the near-capacity crowd of 8,000 react to Under Mount Fuji. The cheers that erupted with the distinctive opening trailed off with a measure of disappointment when he sang the Mandarin version, Love Shifts, instead. When he switched to the beloved Cantonese version for the final chorus, there was a roar of approval.
His banter, too, flitted from English to Cantonese to Mandarin. A visibly happy and sweaty Chan thanked the audience for “playing with me” and joked: “Is the air-con not working or is it because your reception is too warm?”
While the stage set-up was simple, the staging of the songs often had a point of interest to them.
The most fascinating was a cloud that appeared and then you saw a man defying gravity by walking on the underside of it. Meanwhile, Chan was dressed like a beekeeper going to a funeral.
His concert sartorial choices were perhaps a bit more subdued this time round. But they still reflected a playfulness that was totally in keeping with his character.
His first outfit was white and black with what looked like strips of white cloth randomly stuck to it.
That playfulness translated into some of the material. For example, on Sha Sha Nong (which means Thank You in Shanghainese), he dueted with himself by switching between his normal range and his falsetto.
Tourbillon was yet another effectively staged number as he appeared to be standing within a cone of laser light while swathes of light swept across the darkened hall.
It was also clear that some thought had gone into the choreography as among the dancers were a mascot animal, brightly coloured muppet-like creatures and what looked like a giant puppet. They added whimsy and brought a party atmosphere to the gig.
The 2 1/2-hour-long concert ended with the retro Canto-synthpop of Zhong Kou Wei (Trap) as Chan urged his fans to get on their feet. It was an energetic end to yet another lovely treat from Asian pop’s god of song.
(ST)

Jiang Hu, The Rhapsody
Wakin Chau
At some point, a pop singer can no longer continue to churn out the same kind of music he has always done. At that point, he has to ask himself: What next?
Hong Kong-born Wakin Chau’s answer is to go big and go deep.
He made his name with ballads about love, such as I Truly Gave My Love To You and You Make Me Happy And Sad, in a career spanning more than 40 albums.
In his groundbreaking new record – the most ambitious thing he has ever done – he works with celebrated Taiwanese writer and lyricist Chang Ta-chun, drawing on Chinese history and literature to create a compelling musical tapestry. On the album itself, the lyrics are cohesively presented as a piece of calligraphic art.
Lead single Po Mo (Splash Ink) namechecks poet Li Bai and frequently references historical events and characters, while Shen Zai Liang Shan (Here On Mount Liang) draws on the classic novel, Water Margin, for inspiration.
The lyrical denseness can be challenging and even Chau acknowledges this in a largely spoken track titled Postscript: Ta-chun.
It helps that the music is equally rich, mixing elements of traditional Chinese music with modern rock instrumentation and sensibility.
A fruitful and rewarding adventure for Chau.
(ST)

re:solve
Randy Ang
In a botched Special Tactics Unit mission, Chen Shaoqiang’s (Chris Lee Chih-cheng) mentor Wu Tianle (Sunny Pang) is killed. It devastates him and ruins his relationship with Tianle’s sister, Qizhen (Mico Chang).
Seven years later, he tries to solve a series of armed heists and murders with new partner Yongcheng (Yuan Shuai). And the signs keep pointing to a dead man.
There is some promise in the story for what is being billed as Singapore’s first action crime thriller. But the preposterous twists and turns make you want to pick at them and once you do, things begin to unravel.
The mastermind is ultimately found out through some accidental revelation by a child. And too much rests upon the fact that the “double tap” technique of placing two shots in the same spot has been used by the criminals. Is it so inconceivable that people can learn to master it? After all, there is an entire Hong Kong film about it, named, well, Double Tap (2000).
It does not help that the performances are not quite convincing, either. Lee is miscast as the conflicted Shaoqiang – he does not have the heft to pull off the role and his Taiwanese accent sits oddly with the stilted Mandarin of some of the local actors.
The attempt to inject some idol-style romance between Lee and Chang is also misguided as the two have little chemistry.
A pity, really, given that director Randy Ang’s award-winning short film Ayam Man (2013) was both fun and inventive.
(ST)

Saving Mr Banks
John Lee Hancock
The story: Walt Disney (Tom Hanks) has been trying to make a film about the magical English nanny Mary Poppins for 20 years. But the books’ author, P.L. Travers (Emma Thompson), keeps turning him down. When her financial situation becomes pressing, she deigns to fly to Los Angeles for an exploratory trip. Once there, screenwriter Don DaGradi (Bradley Whitford) and music composers Richard (Jason Schwartzman) and Robert Sherman (B.J. Novak) try desperately to win her over. Meanwhile, the story of young Travers growing up in Australia with an alcoholic yet sweet father (Colin Farrell) is told in flashbacks.

The character of Mary Poppins, a nanny who flies and conjures up wonderful adventures, is both whimsical and magical. Thus, it hardly seems possible that she was created by Mrs Travers, as she insists on being addressed. In the face of such a formidable personality, whimsy would just shrivel up and crumble away. Indeed, the character exclaims in the film that Mary Poppins is the enemy of whimsy and fluff.
The greatest pleasure of Saving Mr Banks is watching Emma Thompson play the witheringly tart author. She might be better known for her Oscar-associated roles in dramas such as Howards End (1992) and Sense And Sensibility (1995), but Thompson is also a great comic actor and her timing is impeccable.
Her disdain for Los Angeles practically drips from the screen when she declares that it smells of chlorine and sweat. And when she meets Disney, she tells him to his face: “I won’t have her turned into one of your silly cartoons.”
At this point in time, in 1961, Disney is already a brand and an empire with successful films and the hugely popular Disneyland theme park. He is a man accustomed to getting his way, and Tom Hanks, no stranger himself to success, conveys that nicely.
But in the face of Travers’ unrelenting objections to songs, made-up words and character stylings, even Disney begins to wonder if he can ever get her to sign over the rights.
As this epic battle of wills gets under way, director John Lee Hancock (The Blind Side, 2009) intercuts it with scenes from Travers’ childhood. While the frequent flashbacks disrupt the rhythm of the film, they also offer some key information on the creation of Mary Poppins. Eventually, the movie’s title is explained and you understand why Travers is so fiercely protective of her work.
Fans of the 1964 film starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke would also enjoy the glimpses into the creative process of songs such as A Spoonful Of Sugar and Let’s Go Fly A Kite. And Travers’ curt dismissal of Van Dyke as a lightweight actor will likely raise a smile.
By the time Travers attends the Hollywood premiere of Mary Poppins – despite initially not getting an invitation from Disney – she would have won you over, caustic comebacks and all.
(ST)

Cheer Chen Songs Of Transience Singapore Concert
Singapore Indoor Stadium
Last Saturday

If the goal of most Mandopop concerts is to get the crowd pumped up and on a high, then this was the anti-concert.
Taking its cue from the contemplative new album Songs Of Transience (2013), the night started off on a mellow note. Perched several metres high on a tiny platform, Taiwanese indie queen Cheer Chen sang the title track while the cosmos swirled above and behind her.
Mid-tempo and slow songs such as A Box Of Rain, Fly For You and Immortal followed. Often, she sang with her eyes closed, as if lost in a reverie as she ruminated on time, life and love.
While lightsticks would light up the stadium at most gigs, there was a soothing and calming darkness here. The odd lightstick here and there were like lonely beacons in a black sea.
As if reluctant to break the spell, the singer-songwriter did not even address the crowd of 4,000 until after 10 songs, thanking them for coming.
But with Peace & Revolution, the mood changed.
It was as though Chen had woken from her reverie and was ready to party. Dressed in black with a one-sleeved top and wearing a mask with a trail of red cloth fluttering away from her, she unleashed her inner rock goddess as she wielded a guitar for the hippie-rock number.
She also got to show off her musical versatility on Groupies. She faced off against the various musicians on stage and played guitars, a miniature harp and drums in quick succession.
And then on 1234567, she happily interacted with the fans in front, shaking hands and taking selfies with their mobile phones.
When she announced that View With A Grain Of Sand was “in theory” the last song, it seemed almost too soon. Then she added: “The world is full of exceptions, but only you can make it happen.”
It turned out to be quite an exception as she went on to perform another nine songs.
Chen had actually been ill with a bad bout of the flu in Taipei and had wondered if she would have to cancel the gig. Then she added: “Maybe the medicine is in Singapore, I think I’ve been cured by you.”
She also quipped: “Because my condition was quite serious, the treatment needs to be longer.”
Fan favourites such as Travel With Sound and Lonely Without You were covered in the encores.
She also recounted the stories behind Walk Home and Home, tracks found on her new record.
She said earnestly: “I hope you can be your own home so that home is wherever you are. Today, you are my home.”
The three-hour-long concert ended with an intimate performance of After 17. It was just Chen and a guitar, and it felt as cosy as home.
(ST)

Stefanie Sun 2014 Kepler World Tour
Taipei Arena

Five years, one marriage and a childbirth later, Singaporean singer Stefanie Sun returned to Taipei last Friday and Saturday with her new concert, Kepler.
And it was a triumphant comeback as she held court for three hours at Taipei Arena and basked in the adulation of her fans.
She appeared with a head of bright orange hair atop a raised platform and sang her breakthrough hit, Cloudy Sky. The tempo was slowed down a little, all the better to showcase her powerful and distinctive pipes. She was in the middle of a massive eye-shaped frame and it seemed as though the cosmos was shimmering on the screen behind her.
It was a dramatic start to an entertaining show.
She was in fine vocal form throughout the night, be it raising the energy level with First Day or tugging at hearts with Start To Understand.
A high-octane segment with fast-paced numbers such as Green Light followed. Her stamina seemed to have improved and late in the show, she even pulled off a half-somersault with the help of her dancers.
She seemed relaxed and happy on stage and she might well have her son to thank for that.
With some slinky moves to Magic and a fiery performance, she sure was one hot mama. It was all the more impressive considering that she has never come across as a natural dancer. Yet here she was moving and singing with the confidence and swagger of a pop queen. And when she sang the wrong lyrics at one point, she simply announced it, to indulgent laughter from her fans.
The costumes were eye-catching and glittery and included a short teal dress and a figure-hugging shimmery jumpsuit. Often, her legs would be sheathed in leggings with a metallic sheen to them.
The concert was titled Kepler, after the lead single from her forthcoming album, from which she performed two other new tracks – Infinite Possibilities and the ballad Angel’s Fingerprints.
While fans applauded the new works, it was also clear that they wanted the familiar hits. The final stretch of the concert was a giant karaoke session as hit followed hit.
Sun quipped: “My concert ends now. This is now your concert and I want to hear you sing.” My Love, Love Certificate, Start To Understand and I’m Not Sad were turned into duets as Sun and her fans sang to each other.
The singer also had a surprise guest on the second night. She sang the first stanza of Moonlight In The City and then in walked her Singaporean compatriot Mavis Hee, the ballad’s original singer.
The crowd roared with approval as Hee had not performed in Taipei in more than a decade, according to the Taiwan media.
In addition to dueting with Sun, she also performed Regret and her mellifluous voice was as soothing as ever.
What a night to have two of Singapore’s singers enthralling Taipei Arena.
Showing up to support Sun were her family and friends, including pop star Jolin Tsai – who caused a stir when she was spotted in the stands before the show started. And the camera kept zooming in on Sun’s beaming husband during her encore of Cloudy Sky.
Of course, there were her loyal fans as well. Their fervour moved Sun to say: “l’ve been a singer for so long, I never imagined I would be so lucky.”
Her fans would say that they are the lucky ones.
(ST)

The Monuments Men
George Clooney
The story: In the last days of World War II in 1944, Lieutenant Frank Stokes (George Clooney) puts together a unit of men for an unusual mission – to track down the priceless art and artefacts stolen by the Nazis and save them from destruction. The group of seven comprises curators and art historians, including James Granger (Matt Damon) and Richard Campbell (Bill Murray). Parisian curator Claire Simone (Cate Blanchett) has to decide whether she will help them. Based on the non-fiction book, The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves And The Greatest Treasure Hunt In History by Robert M. Edsel.

What is worth more: A work of art or a man’s life?
Trying to save paintings and sculptures at a time when war is raging and lives are being lost in battle could well seem foolhardy. So early on, Stokes frames the mission for the men and the audience. He points out that you can wipe out a generation of people and they will come back, but if you destroy their art, it will be as if they never existed.
But while the mission is noble, the reaction they get on the ground is often dismissive, if not outright hostile, and their resources are pitifully meagre.
There is promise here for an entertaining treasure hunt romp as a bunch of unlikely characters fights against the odds and tries to find out where the artworks have been squirrelled away. But the movie mostly meanders along and is a little too low-key in the hands of star and director Clooney.
Given that liberties have already been taken with the names of the characters, who are based loosely on actual people, why not push it further and go for a tighter and funnier story?
After all, quite a cast of comic actors has been assembled, from the ever-reliable John Goodman to the wonderfully dour Bob Balaban. There is also Jean Dujardin from The Artist (2011) and Hugh Bonneville from British television’s period drama Downton Abbey.
The other problem with the sprawling cast is that you do not get a good grasp of the characters and why they would put their lives on the line for a mission that may be worthy but is, nevertheless, undertaken in a time of war.
As the group splits up and encounters separate adventures, the film feels a little scattered. Goodman and Dujardin are pinned down by a sniper, Balaban and Murray share a smoke with a young soldier and Damon tries to persuade Blanchett that, unlike the Germans and the Russians, they want to return the art to their rightful owners.
Still, you root for them as they race against time to foil the Nazis’ dastardly plan of destroying everything if Hitler died and also to thwart the Russians from rushing in to claim their spoils of victory.
By the movie’s end, you would be astounded by the scale of German greed and the sheer audacity of the systematic looting.
And yes, the film does provide an answer to the primary query it poses regarding the value of art vis-a-vis human life. You might not agree, but what is less questionable is that the men, and women, of the Monuments, Fine Arts and Archives programme helped to safeguard a collective heritage that we can all enjoy today.
(ST)

Zero
Faith Yang
Taiwanese singer Faith Yang seems like someone you do not mess with: She bristles with attitude and a rock swagger not often found in the world of Mandopop.
New album Zero does nothing to dispel this impression.
On the opening track Parrot, she proclaims: “I reject love that’s too hollow, don’t be like a parrot, waiting to be praised.” Humourless finds her brusquely putting down a suitor: “I have never gotten your sense of humour/That’s why I’m cold, not that I’ve not said it before, but you just don’t hear.”
Her philosophy could well be summed up on Love Myself when she sings: “I love you, but I love myself more.”
But there are also moments of vulnerability and tenderness here.
On Exhibitionist, she lays bare her insecurities: “I’m like a clown, feeling especially empty and lonely after the laughter and applause.” But even tenderness is barbed on Missed Call: “A missed call is the cruel concern you show me.”
Her last album of original material was the memorable Continuation (2007). In it, she was imperious on Dame and moving on the beautifully spare I Leave Myself.
Zero, only her fifth full-length album since 1997’s One, remains true to form, if a shade less compelling. But with her distinctive vocals and clear-eyed sentiment, she could never be accused of parroting anyone else.
(ST)

I’m So Excited
Pedro Almodovar
The story: A plane en-route from Madrid to Mexico City encounters equipment trouble and pilots Alex (Antonio de la Torre) and Benito (Hugo Silva) have to look for a runway for an emergency landing. Meanwhile, gay stewards Joserra (Javier Camara), Fajas (Carlos Areces) and Ulloa (Raul Arevalo) try to keep spirits up with a heady mix of alcohol, drugs and a campy routine to The Pointer Sisters’ signature hit, I’m So Excited. The kooky passengers in business class include high-class dominatrix Norma (Cecilia Roth) and psychic virgin Bruna (Lola Duenas).

In times of crisis, people reveal their true colours and dark secrets. And with life and death at stake here, skeletons come tumbling out in a hurry.
Married pilot Alex has to juggle his marriage with his affair with Joserra, the chief steward on the flight. And bicurious pilot Benito (think of Silva as a sexier version of Zach Braff) gradually comes to terms with his sexuality with a little help from Ulloa.
Fluid sexual identity is a constant theme in the films of Spanish film-maker Pedro Almodovar and it has been compellingly explored in works such as All About My Mother (1999) and Bad Education (2004). Here, he is content to milk the topic for laughs.
The bunch of actors are all game.
Camara is a hoot as he drinks like a fish and proclaims his inability to tell a lie, Areces is a religious fanatic with an eye on the hunky newly wed groom while Arevalo is the deadpan and slutty one. Together, they put on a campy-licious rendition of I’m So Excited, lip-syncing and sashaying along with the best of them.
Apart from the sexual shenanigans among the flight crew, there are also the stories of the passengers to delve into. But in the end, there are simply too many balls to juggle in this screwball comedy.
There is the dominatrix who fears that someone is after her life, the father hoping to reconnect with his runaway daughter, the mysterious Mexican who carries with him the stench of death and the psychic virgin looking to get lucky.
Some of the detours get draggy, particularly the one involving an actor, his depressive-suicidal girlfriend and his ex.
It all culminates in an alcohol- and drug-fuelled session of mile-high-club loving as crew and passengers pair off and make out. Everyone, that is, except for the poor sods in economy class who have all passed out after having been doped with muscle relaxants.
Maybe there is a point here about class division and discrimination, but it is not something the writer-director is overly concerned with.
File this under Almodovar-lite.
(ST)

Really
Matilda Tao
Really? Taiwan’s Matilda Tao returns to the music scene eight years after Walkin’ To New York (2005) and it turns out to be a slice of electronic pop. But the title track and first single soon grew on me and the rap-dance number managed the neat trick of making her sound current without making her sound desperate.
It helps that the names behind the track are none other than Mandopop king Jay Chou, who wrote the music, and top lyricist Lin Xi.
More surprises await in the album. Opening track Ah Well, by Chou and lyricist Vincent Fang, has Tao rapping away at rapid-fire speed over a sinuous melody line.
For those who remember her best for the ballad Leave Me and the rallying cry of Stand Up Sisters, this new Tao takes a little getting used to. In that case, you might want to head for I Won’t Wish You Well first, a beautifully bittersweet ballad. She croons: “I won’t say I wish you well, I won’t wish you well/I don’t want to prove we were a mistake.”
There is also a groovy R&B ballad with Khalil Fong and a tender number titled Child.
At first, the album seemed like a disparate collection of pretty good songs. But it is actually a multi-faceted offering which takes in all her different identities from talk-show host with the gift of the gab to pop singer to mother of two.
And that makes it a richly layered comeback which will keep drawing you back. Really.
(ST)

The Monkey King
Soi Cheang
The story: Banished by the Jade Emperor (Chow Yun Fat) to Flaming Mountain after a failed attack, the Bull Demon King (Aaron Kwok) bides his time for vengeance. The monkey king Sun Wukong (Donnie Yen) is unaware that he is a crucial part of the plan. Egged on by the Bull Demon King, Sun goes on to wreak havoc in heaven. Based on an episode of Wu Chengen’s Ming Dynasty literary classic, Journey To The West.

It is a big gamble to bury your bankable leading man beneath a coat of animal fur – and it is one that does not quite pay off here.
Action star Donnie Yen is known for his deft moves and stoic demeanour, such as in the flicks about martial arts figure Ip Man. In The Monkey King, he is completely unrecognisable in simian make-up, complete with upturned nostrils and sharp teeth.
To be fair, quite a bit of attention was paid to details and it might even have been an acting breakthrough for Yen.
Freed from being himself, so to speak, he scampers and bounds about like a hyperactive child and even conveys that spunky mischievousness of Sun. No mean feat for a man of 50.
Still, you cannot quite shake off the nagging feeling that this is a man in a monkey suit and the impression is strengthened when you see an entire troop of monkeys. Presumably, less attention was paid to the get-up of the other monkeys since they were not played by top stars.
Other missteps include the Mandarin dubbing, which was curiously bloodless (when the Bull Demon King declared that he would attack heaven when the chance arose, it sounded as though Kwok was ordering takeout); largely forgettable guest star cameos, from Kelly Chen as the Goddess of Mercy to Gigi Leung as a celestial fairy; and the decision to give the monkey king a romantic interest in the form of a fox spirit – this just comes across arbitrary and wrong.
The film is also dragged down by the heavy use of computer-generated imagery.
As with The Sorcerer And The White Snake (2011), the landscapes conjured up are decidedly fake-looking. You can just imagine the actors pacing about in front of a green screen while the underwhelming Heavenly Palace is being generated by some bored interns.
Worse, even the actors go missing in the climactic battle, as two CGI creatures slug it out while CGI debris floats about, generating little in the way of excitement. Yawn.
Journey To The West is such a strong story that it can survive much tinkering, as in Stephen Chow’s 2013 adaptation of the same name. Unfortunately, it sinks under a deluge of subpar CGI. In fact, the two-part The Monkey King (1961, 1964) was a far more engaging movie and all it had was relatively simple hand-drawn animation.
The lesson here: Get the story right and stop monkeying around with CGI.
(ST)

Gone Case

The phrase “gone case” is something you might find in one of those lists of Things Singaporeans Say. Sure, others may understand it and even use it to describe something or someone who is hopeless, but it still seems to be quintessentially local.
And so it is with this two-part small-screen adaptation of Dave Chua’s award-winning 1997 novel of the same name.
Part 1 is available via MediaCorp’s Catch-Up TV service and Part 2 airs on Channel 5 on Sunday at 10pm.
The protagonist of the story is 12-year-old Yong (Lim Chu Yeang). He is an ordinary boy living in an HDB estate in 1996 and his best friend, Liang (Chen Jing Jun), lives nearby.
It is a year of changes and upheavals as his grandmother dies, a gangster menaces the neighbourhood, money troubles dog his father (Zheng Geping) and mother (Yvonne Lim), and friendship is tested. Through it all, the PSLE (Primary School Leaving Examination) hangs over him like a dark cloud.
It sounds like melodrama territory but Chua’s treatment and director Ler Jiyuan’s take is anything but. Ler, who has worked on TV dramas such as The Pupil and Code Of Law, takes a subtle and quietly observant approach that refreshingly steers clear of histrionics.
Yong is, after all, not your usual, heroic protagonist. He is mild-mannered and kind of passive and is still carrying some baby fat. He is at that awkward age where he sees and understands more than adults give him credit for, and yet, he is often powerless to change things.
Chu Yeang, who had played the titular schoolboy in The Diary Of Amos Lee on okto, is well-cast as Yong and you root for him to make it through a turbulent year.
From a violent gangster to the less mature and mercurial Liang, there are stronger contenders for the label of gone case. The drama is also nicely anchored in a specific time and place with the use of a few choice period details such as a pager and a rectangular housephone.
Notably, Gone Case is not afraid to venture into some dark places. For example, in a fit of frustration over his squabbling parents, he ends up hitting his younger brother. Violence intrudes as well in the form of an older gangster with a nasty temper.
Then there are the screams in the neighbourhood which taunt and trouble Yong and make the world seem like a sinister place.
The reassuring voiceover narration by an adult Yong, though, suggests that he survives it all.
Not everything is explained and neatly tied up at the end and that is fine. Some mysteries are never solved, but that is life. The only thing certain about it is that it goes on.
(ST)