Journey To The West: The Demons Strike Back
The story: The monk Tang Sanzang (Kris Wu) is on a journey to India to obtain sutras. He is accompanied by three disciples – Monkey (Lin Gengxin), Piggy (Yang Yiwei) and Sandy (Mengke Bateer). Along the way, they encounter a nest of vicious spider demons, a petulant king (Bao Bei-er) and his minister (Yao Chen), who has a dangerous belief in doing as he pleases.

This is billed as the sequel to Journey To The West: Conquering The Demons (2013), but there are actually quite a few changes from the earlier film.
Hong Kong’s Stephen Chow only writes and produces here, and leaves the directing to Tsui Hark (Detective Dee And The Mystery Of The Phantom Flame, 2010) instead.
The tone of the film is a tad less silly, but there are still comic elements that are signature Chow, such as the exaggeratedly drooly Piggy and old women who are supposed to be exhausted 16-year-olds.
More jarring is the overhauled cast.
Idol singer-actor Kris Wu makes for a better-looking Tang, but Wen Zhang was more affecting in the earlier film. Monkey, Piggy and Sandy are also played by different actors, though the impact is less marked in their case as their faces are hidden under heavy make-up.
The source material – the classic Chinese novel Journey To The West – merely serves as inspiration here and the film-makers take lots of liberty with the story.
That is not necessarily a bad thing, though Tang behaves in a rather inconsistent manner, particularly in his relationship with Monkey.
What makes the film entertaining is the inventive use of computer- generated imagery (CGI).
Tsui piles on the effects and, more importantly, lets his imagination run riot in conjuring up landscapes, creatures and battles.
There is a forest of deformed and menacing trees, a crazily colourful kingdom run by a child-like monarch and an epic showdown involving four buddhas, a giant Monkey and a demon who looks like a mechanical toy. Oh, and a poisoned Sandy gets transformed into a giant fish the gang have to lug around and keep wet.
There is a wild and joyous abandon to the film-making that calls to mind Tsui’s early work, Zu Warriors From The Magic Mountain (1983), which memorably featured flying stone elephants. He has not lost his touch when it comes to making fantasy take flight.
(ST)

Power Station 20th
Power Station

Flow
Winnie Hsin

In their earlier days, Taiwanese duo Power Station were known for rock ballads filled with angst and soaring vocals in hits such as Heartless Love Letters, which is found on this new two-disc album. Two decades on, the pair have matured and their most memorable new songs are the more measured mid-tempo tracks.
The opener Mi Tang (Potion) possesses a tenderness in lines such as “She uses warmth to heat up a bowl of potion for me, how fragrant”.
Despite its title, Zha Yao (Dynamite) starts gently and even the chorus is unhurried: “You are the dynamite deep in my heart/Why are these memories so overbearing/Don’t know when they will explode/ And blow everything apart.”
That said, Power Station have not lost their explosiveness and edge. They still have plenty of energy, judging from songs such as the Minnan-Mandarin track Next Station. They remain a relevant music force and that is no mean feat after 20 years.
Taiwanese singer Winnie Hsin has been around even longer and yet the 54-year-old’s crystalline soprano pipes have not diminished since her debut album, Lonely Winter, was released in 1986.
The album’s Mandarin title, Ming Bai (Understand), seems to hark back to her best-known work Ling Wu (Epiphany, 1994), but she has no intention of resting on her laurels.
If her awakening in Epiphany was a bitter one (“Ah painful realisation that you were my everything”), the parting shot in the title track here is a more empowering manifesto: “I can afford to love/I can let it go.”
First single My Dear You, which has been scaling radio charts, mixes lush strings with her deftly modulating voice: “My dear you, missing you/I wish you were here with me/You have to walk part of the way to realise that being safe and sound is the greatest happiness.”
It feels as though one is hearing from a good friend after a long absence.
(ST)

It is time for the annual Chinese New Year sweepstakes – the winner could walk away with millions of dollars, whether in the Toto draw or at the box office, where there are four festive titles in battle.
Hong Kong action star Jackie Chan is a regular fixture of the season. In action-comedy Kung Fu Yoga, his latest attempt to claim the holiday crown, he and director Stanley Tong pull out all the stops to appeal to just about everyone.
It highlights exotic and glamorous locations around the world, from the ice-and-snow landscape of Iceland to the over-the-top luxury on display in Dubai.
The diverse cast includes Bollywood beauties Disha Patani and Amyra Dastur, yoga goddess Mu Qimiya, dashing Aarif Rahman and singer-dancer Lay Zhang from South Korean boy band Exo.
In order to tie all these disparate elements together, the story is something of a stretch.
Chan plays archaeology professor Jack, who is keen to track down the lost treasure of the Indian kingdom of Magadha.
However, the lengthy exposition of an ancient battle plays out like a none-too-involving computer game and the references to Indo-Sino friendship feel too much like pandering to a potentially large Indian audience.
Missing is the appeal of Chan as the scrappy underdog who triumphs against the odds – nowadays, he tends to be treated respectfully as the undisputed top dog.
But even a top dog will grimace and cower when he finds himself next to the king of beasts – a highlight of Kung Fu Yoga sees him stuck in a car during a high-octane chase scene with an actual, not CGI, lion. Chan is a hoot as he tries to gingerly placate the pi**ed-off cat.
A joyous Bollywood dance extravaganza aptly wraps up the proceedings. It might not be part of Chinese tradition, but it is celebratory.
The most ostensibly festive entry is The Fortune Handbook. Mark Lee plays a fortune god-in-training who meddles in the affairs of lazy Soh Hock (Christopher Lee) and his industrious brother-in-law Hao Xing (Li Nanxing).
Prosperity, the importance of family and bak kwa are key themes of this holiday season and they are all here in this work from director Kelvin Sng (Taxi! Taxi!, 2013), but the end result is far from savoury.
Bak kwa gets quite a bit of play because Christopher Lee is the ambassador for a certain brand – and so does green tea, which Vivian Lai even breaks from her character as Soh Hock’s wife to promote.
While product placements in a film might be a necessary evil, a film-maker knows his work is in trouble when his characters laugh more than the audience – hearing laughter on the screen is not the same thing as watching a funny film.
The most entertaining thing in the movie is Christopher Lee’s performance as the vain, hairspray-toting Soh Hock, which at least feels a little fresh and different.
At first glance, the other local festive film, Take 2, seems to be a rather curious offering, given that ex-cons trying to move on is not exactly the most obvious Chinese New Year topic. But the theme of starting afresh does fit in with the notion of new beginnings.
It is a pity that debutant director Ivan Ho, who was scriptwriter for Ah Boys To Men 3: Frogmen (2015), cannot quite decide if he wants to do a drama or a comedy.
Ryan Lian (Long Long Time Ago, 2016) has potential as a brooding leading man in what could have been a moving story of how a jailbird father redeems himself in his estranged son’s eyes.
But he is surrounded here by discordant notes, from Dennis Chew in a number of cross-dressing roles to Chen Tianwen as a crazily flamboyant nemesis to a bizarre soundtrack of European songs.
There is yet another contender for the Chinese New Year box- office crown and that is Journey To The West: The Demons Strike Back, which opens on Saturday.
The final festive offering is from Hong Kong funnyman Stephen Chow, a proven box-office magnet here like Chan is.
The prints will be arriving just in time for its sneak previews on Friday and opening on Saturday, but the movie likely will not need good reviews to boost its takings.
Its predecessor, Journey To The West: Conquering The Demons (2013), was a hit even though Chow did not act in it – he co-wrote, produced and directed it.
He has even less involvement this time around – only a producing credit. Yet his name is still prominently featured in the trailer.
Now that is star power.
(ST)

Dear Paranoia
Andrew Tan
Make-up artist-turned-singer Andrew Tan remains best known for the hit ballad Queen, the title track off his 2010 debut album.
It is a pity – the Malaysian has a rich and sonorous set of pipes, which you might even call a handsome voice.
Dear Paranoia is a concerted effort to improve his fortunes with radio-friendly material about being in and out of love that showcases his vocals.
His falsetto is effortless in Internecine (Ju Shang), which features a brooding piano melody and a soaring chorus. Blue Love Theme (Hao Ai Hao San) plays to his strength as an emotive singer.
Taken as a whole, though, the album relies too much on love ballads.
It could do with more numbers such as the title track, which revs up the tempo in a welcome change of pace.
The dance-tinged Dear Paranoia blossoms into a surprisingly joyous refrain as he declares: “I insist on continuing to sing/Until the end of time.”
Tan might wish to note that perseverance is not enough. The choice of songs is crucial as well.
(ST)

Centrifugal Force
Faith Yang
Taiwan’s Faith Yang can often come across as cold, but the ice queen seems to be melting quite a bit on her sixth studio album.
Reportedly inspired by the astronomical concept of the Roche limit – the minimum distance to which a large satellite can approach its primary body without being torn apart by tidal forces – Centrifugal Force pulls you in inexorably.
Over a gentle piano accompaniment, she issues an invitation on the title track: “Come closer another inch/And I’ll believe you”. The vulnerability is devastating when she sings: “Don’t embrace, you musn’t kiss/I’ll shatter, never be whole again”.
Musically, there are some surprises here.
Zhuan Shen (Turn Around) is an electro track which flirts with the spoken word, while Fen Bi Zuo De Shou (Hands Made Of Chalk) is an unabashed EDM number. And Yan Yu (An Affair) seems to take place in some romantic European location, given the orchestral arrangement.
Fittingly, the album ends with the poignant Tui Kai Shi Jie De Men (Push Open The Doors Of The World). It sounds like an epiphany, suggesting Yang is ready to open up like never before.
(ST)

The Wasted Times
Cheng Er
The story: Lu (Ge You) is an influential and ruthless mobster in 1930s Shanghai on the eve of the Japanese invasion. His Japanese brother-in-law Watabe (Tadanobu Asano) has lived in the city for years and is practically Shanghainese. The wife of Lu’s boss is Xiaoliu (Zhang Ziyi), a woman prone to indiscreet affairs. Their lives intersect time and again as war upends the city.

The one word that best describes this film is Tarantino-esque.
Chinese writer-director Cheng Er (Lethal Hostage, 2012) is clearly a fan of American film-maker Quentin Tarantino’s distinctive bravura style, particularly as seen in the Palme d’Or-winning non-linear black comedy crime flick, Pulp Fiction (1994).
The Wasted Times does not proceed linearly, instead it moves back and forth in time, changing viewers’ understanding of characters and situations each time it does so.
Scenes that seem to make little sense the first time you watch them are repeated in a fuller context and are suddenly flooded with meaning and emotion.
While Tarantino has his characters riffing on pop culture, often in the most unlikely of situations, Cheng has two young men nonchalantly joshing about the younger guy’s virginity in a car – before he unveils what it is exactly they are on their way to.
Perhaps an English-language film in this style would have seemed overly derivative. In a Chinese work, it still feels fresh and intriguing.
Moreover, Cheng is not paying homage blindly. His style is in service to the story, reflecting the topsy-turvy upheaval of life during wartime.
Like Tarantino, who revived the career of actor John Travolta with Pulp Fiction, Cheng also seems to have a way with actors – the ensemble cast here is top-notch, from the quietly menacing Ge You to the vivacious Zhang Ziyi to Tadanobu Asano, whose surface calm belies a dark heart.
Even the smaller roles make their mark, including Yan Ni as the formidable housekeeper Wang Ma and Du Jiang, who brings a mix of naivete and viciousness to his part as a junior henchman.
This movie is no wasted effort.
(ST)

Trace Of Time In Love
Rainie Yang
On her 10th album, Rainie Yang is confident enough to stick to ballads and mid-tempo numbers throughout, without the need to mix things up just for the sake of it.
The best song is Audience, a ballad she interprets sensitively as she contemplates a distant lover: “Some people love like an audience/Don’t understand the simplest emotional scene.”
It was penned for her by China’s Li Ronghao, one of the hottest singer-songwriters of the moment. The 31-year-old has a way with both words and music, effectively exploring emotional states through the use of sustained metaphors.
The song benefits from their romance – they are dating and he is able to tailor a song to her exact strengths as a singer.
At this point, Yang, 32, is firmly into her second phase as a crooner of sophisticated grown-up tracks about love and life, leaving behind her cutesy and grating pop.
On the title track, she ponders the passage of time and the changes it has wrought. The changing of the seasons can be cruel and relentless, but time has been good to her as a singer.
(ST)

Farewell, 2016, year of loss and upheavals.
Who knows what 2017 will bring, but to start things on a bright note, there are several events I look forward to on the music front, from album releases to a living legend’s new musical.
Hong Kong’s Eason Chan is a great singer in top form and he has released at least one album or EP a year since 2005. He is adventurous when it comes to his music outings – from his collaboration with Singapore singer-songwriter JJ Lin for Mandarin album Rice & Shine (2014) to a trio of edgy Cantonese EPs released in 2010 and 2011.
Last year was an exception as he did not drop a new disc. There are rumours that he has been working on new material in the recording studio and that the album will be followed by a world tour. Hopefully, this is not just wishful thinking of fans hankering after a record from him.
Here’s also hoping that his new gig as a mentor on TV show Sing! China will not suck up too much of his time – as entertaining as his comments on the show could be given his shoot-from-the-hip tendencies, they’d be mere distractions to the kind of music he can produce.
It so happens that Taiwanese dancing diva Jolin Tsai sat out last year as well, after releasing Myself in 2010, Muse in 2012 and Play in 2014. (Did she get the same memo as Chan?)
She has been having fun playing around with Mando-dance-pop, stretching the genre and proving it can be more than throwaway fluff. In the process, The Great Artist from Muse was named Best Song of the Year at the Golden Melody Awards in 2013 and Play won Best Mandarin Album at the same event a year later.
At a concert in China last month, she promised to release a new album this year. The question is whether she will continue in the same musical vein or whether her break-up with model Vivian Dawson after six years will make its way into the music.
If Myself was any indication, Tsai seems unlikely to be baring her soul on disc. Maybe she will just dance away her troubles.
What is bound to be far more personal is 50 Song Memoir from American indie pop group The Magnetic Fields, due out on March 3. The concept here is an autobiographical album with one track for each year of frontman and songwriter Stephin Merritt’s life.
The band had previously struck gold with another concept record 69 Love Songs (1999). In one song, he memorably described his heart as “running ’round like a chicken with its head cut off” and on the album, he explored a diverse array of genres from country to jazz to synth pop.
Other idiosyncratic projects of his have included i (2004) – every song title begins with the letter I – and the contrasting pair of albums, noise pop on Distortion (2008), followed by the acoustic folk of Realism (2010).
In each case, Merritt’s droll lyrics and musical versatility made for a winning combination.
When it comes to penning words set to music, theatre giant Stephen Sondheim is in a class of his own. Producer Cameron Mackintosh once hailed him as “possibly the greatest lyricist ever”. From dissecting relationships in Company (1970) in contemporary New York to limning a murderous barber in Sweeney Todd (1979) in Victorian-era London, Sondheim has vividly brought to life diverse worlds and the spectrum of human experience.
Remarkably, he continues to be active at the age of 86 and there is the wonderful prospect of a new musical from him, eight years after Road Show – about a pair of brothers in the freewheeling, get-rich-quick America of the early 1900s – made its off-Broadway premiere.
The new work, tentatively titled Bunuel, is a collaboration with playwright David Ives (All In The Timing, 1993) and could possibly be staged this year. It is inspired by two films by Spanish director Luis Bunuel – The Discreet Charm Of The Bourgeoisie (1972) and The Exterminating Angel (1962), both involving surreal dinner parties. It sounds deliciously intriguing.
If this list does not excite you, no matter. Do the same exercise yourself and jot down the things that you are looking forward to. Before you know it, the year is already looking up.
(ST)

Railroad Tigers
Ding Sheng
The story: Ma Yuan (Jackie Chan) is the head of a group of railroad workers who regularly steals supplies from the Japanese military in east China in 1941. Tipped off by a Chinese soldier (Darren Wang), they get a shot at accomplishing something big – blow up a bridge to disrupt a key enemy supply route. Ma’s crew also includes noodle-seller/ sharpshooter Fan Chuan (Wang Kai) and tailor Dahai (former Exo member Huang Zitao).

Action star Jackie Chan and his son Jaycee provide some of the more amusing moments in this middling film.
Although Jaycee is missing from promotional material and even from online write-ups, he plays a member of Ma’s crew. Some have speculated that this is Chan’s way of giving his son a leg-up after the latter’s show-business freeze because of his marijuana-related jail stint.
Whatever the reason, father and son are pretty entertaining to watch.
In one scene, after being captured, they happily trade insults over each other’s looks instead of being worried – Jaycee even scores a big hit with a jibe at his father’s bulbous nose.
And during an attempt to steal explosives from a Japanese warehouse, they end up on two ends of a rope thrown over a metal beam – like two ends of a human pulley system – yo-yoing up and down as soldiers prowl the premises.
The key hook of the film – which reunites Chan with Ding Sheng, his director for crime thriller Police Story 2013 and period action flick Little Big Soldier (2010) – is how a motley crew with few resources go about destroying a bridge.
It has promise, but Ding takes too long to kick things into gear, burdened as it is with too much unnecessary cargo, from the superfluous framing device to the sprawling cast of characters.
Xu Fan is wasted in the role of a hawker who is sweet on Ma and Zhang Yishang barely registers as Ma’s daughter. At least Wang Kai (Nirvana In Fire, 2015) leaves an impression as the cool sharpshooter Fan.
The finale, which is predictable, needs better computer-generated imagery for the flick to end with a roar.
(ST)

Run! Frantic Flowers!
Waa Wei
The first thing that grabs your attention is the unusual- looking title.
Interestingly enough, the Chinese phrase Mo Lu Kuang Hua is also the translation used for the American movie title Thelma & Louise (1991). That road movie about two women breaking free of their mundane lives turns out to be a signpost of sorts for Taiwanese singer-songwriter Waa Wei’s fifth album.
The title track is an electro-rock number on which Wei proclaims with a snarl: “The ordinary is my enemy.” Then, she coos in her higher register on the chorus: “I’m a more dangerous kind of flower/The elegance at the end of the road/The confidence of the lowly/Frantic flowers in the gale/Bloom wherever they land.”
And yes, her creativity is in full bloom here.
Her sly sense of humour emerges on the electro track Snow Girl as she laments: “The heat of passion that others want will kill me.” And she wistfully imagines on the gentle Little Fish: “If I were a mountain, you couldn’t come and go as you please.”
Wei dips into a variety of genres here from the gently jazzy Crooked to the breezy pop of I Will Be Fine to the guitar ballad You You.
On the last, she sings in Mandarin and Minnan and also scats to convey her tender state of being in love and pain.
On the album’s dreamy, perky synth-pop closer Monroe, she draws inspiration from the icon and bombshell Marilyn Monroe.
When it comes to music, Wei is no shrinking violet either.
(ST)

Assassin's Creed
Justin Kurzel
The story: Sentenced to death by lethal injection, criminal Callum Lynch (Michael Fassbender) wakes up instead and finds himself in a facility run by scientist Sofia Rikkin (Marion Cotillard) and her father Alan (Jeremy Irons) of Abstergo Industries, the modern-day incarnation of the Templar Order. They are after the Apple of Eden, a powerful object last handled in 15th-century Spain by assassin Aguilar de Nerha (Fassbender) – whose memories can be accessed by Callum. Based on the video game franchise of the same name, in which the Assassins fight for peace with free will and the Templars want peace through control.

There is something interesting going on here.
The names for this project read like a dream combination for an indie arthouse flick.
Indeed, director Justin Kurzel had just worked with actors Fassbender and Cotillard on a well-received adaptation of Shakespeare’s Macbeth (2015).
And then we have Oscar winner Irons, Emmy winner Brendan Gleeson and film festival favourite Charlotte Rampling.
But wait, this is a video game adaptation.
Despite an attempt to give this lightweight movie a heavyweight makeover, Assassin’s Creed ends up being a failed experiment.
It is both unnecessarily complicated and ridiculously simplified at the same time.
For all the powerful technology that Abstergo Industries has at its disposal, it is unable to fast forward to the exact moment when Aguilar last had possession of the Apple. Instead, the key moments of his life – which are now Callum’s memories – are helpfully converted into a technicolour film we can all watch.
It is also necessary for Callum to be strapped into a machine so that he can act out each gesture in his past life as he recalls it. Can the film be more literal?
Then there are the protracted speeches about the nature of free will and the relationship between genetics and the propensity for murder, which are not only tedious, but also mostly sound like hogwash.
What a waste of the killer line-up assembled.
(ST)

Albums of 2016
BEST
Talk About Eve by Eve Ai
The Sum Of Us from the album, Talk About Eve (photo 16), is one of my favourite songs of the year. The ballad penned by Taiwanese singer-songwriter Eve Ai is quietly compelling and the lyrics poignantly sustain a metaphor about love and mathematics. There is a soulfulness to her singing that lifts even more conventional material such as Harmless Loneliness, turning it into another highlight here. This is an album that should get people talking about Ai.

The River by Wang Feng
Before he became better known as a singing contest judge and as actress Zhang Ziyi’s husband, Wang Feng was already making waves with his songs and his ninth album is a reminder of his musical prowess.
It is a record made by a man at the crossroads of middle age and taking stock of life. He is defiant on the stirring ballad, Fleeting Time, What Can You Do To Me, and unbowed on the title track. There is more than navel-gazing here and he turns a critical eye on society in Full, juxtaposing to pointed effect things which are overflowing with an aching hollowness elsewhere.

Progress Reports by Eli Hsieh
This is the year’s most compelling debut and Taiwan’s Eli Hsieh was a deserving Golden Melody Award winner for Best New Artist.
The disc is intimate and ambitious. Conceptually, it was inspired by American writer Daniel Keyes’ sci-fi short story, Flowers For Algernon, comprising progress reports by the protagonist as his low IQ is boosted via experimental surgery. At the same time, the singer-songwriter’s pellucid voice evokes an honest portrait of a young man’s emotional world. Life can be filled with uncertainty, but there are moments of grace on songs such as Roam.

WORST
Journey by Nicky Wu
Maybe there is a reason for the 19-year break between this album and his last, 1997’s Hero. The Taiwanese might have been the best-looking of the boy band trio, Little Tigers, but he was not their strongest singer. The opening synthesizer strains of Lonely By Nature sound dated and the title track, which harks back to one of his best-known solo hits, Wish You A Smooth Journey, also fails to get things moving.
(ST)

Concerts of 2016
BEST
Stella Zhang Qing Fang Live In Singapore 2016, Singapore Indoor Stadium, Jan 30
It has been 20 years since Taiwan’s Stella Chang (photo 13) performed here and time has not dimmed her crystalline-clear vocals. Remarkably, her voice grew in strength and vibrance over the course of the show.
It also helps that she was never a cutesy teen idol and her love ballads have weathered the years well. The staging was elegant and classy and it all came together with a flourish for the finale.
Dressed in a vermillion gown and framed by a giant gazebo with a huge wall of flowers as a backdrop, she cut a striking figure as red confetti drifted down lazily.

Terry Lin Onetake Concert 2016 World Tour In Singapore, Suntec Singapore Convention & Exhibition Centre, Aug 26
Taiwan’s Terry Lin might not have idol looks and he can be a little awkward on stage.
But none of that matters when he sings. There is a purity to his pipes that makes emotions ring bright and true, and he glides effortlessly over the high notes, even in falsetto.
Apart from performing his solo hits and songs from his Ukulele duo days, he took on several covers, managing to make even a hackneyed ballad such as Making Love Out Of Nothing At All feel fresh. And to think he had a cough that night.

Yuzu Asia Tour 2016 Summer Natsuiro, *Scape The Ground Theatre, July 9
To mark their 20th anniversary, Japanese folk-pop duo Yuzu embarked on their first Asian tour. They brought with them a taste of natsu matsuri (summer festivals) with their sunny and breezy tracks, which were accompanied by guitars and the plaintive wail of the harmonica.
There was even a fun mass dance segment with two costumed Japanese Citron (yuzu) Monkeys leading the choreography with chirpy instructions to “tap tap your bum”.

WORST
“The Invincible” Jay Chou Concert Tour 2016, National Stadium, Sept 3
As expected, the production was top-notch for Mandopop king Jay Chou’s gig. But vocally, the singer was not at his best. He was too ready to point his microphone towards the audience members for them to sing along and he seemed to be relying heavily on his back-up singers.
The sound quality was contentious as well, with some fans demanding a refund after the show due to the poor acoustics.
Not being able to make out what Chou is singing because of his characteristic mumble is one thing. Not being able to do so because of murky sound is another altogether.
(ST)

Films of 2016
BEST
Mr Six
China’s Feng Xiaogang is equally at home behind the camera or in front of it. He is tremendous in this compelling character study of the titular Mr Six (photo 2), a Beijing old-timer of honour and principles who is out of step with the times, and he deservedly walked away with the Golden Horse Award for Best Actor.
The film packs in plenty of observations about contemporary Chinese society and values and ends with a visually spectacular showdown on a frozen lake.

Ten Years
The controversial Hong Kong Film Award winner for Best Film paints a disturbing picture of the territory in 2025. The anthology comprises Extras by Kwok Zune, Season Of The End by Wong Fei Pang, Dialect by Jevons Au, Self-Immolator by Kiwi Chow and Local Egg by Ng Ka Leung. The works run the gamut from heavily metaphorical to darkly humorous to overtly political.
The movieis uneven and raw at times, but is also filled with unbridled passion and a sense of urgency and it taps into a very real sense of unease about Hong Kong’s future.

Your Name
The anime flick, which has been smashing records at home in Japan, tells a beguiling story in an unexpected way and deftly ties together strands of humour, romance and mystery.
The movie starts out as a light-hearted high-school comedy and deepens into an existential mystery and a rumination on the nature of time as the appearance of a comet and the Japanese tradition of braiding cords are woven in.
The animation is gorgeous, detailed and vividly coloured.

WORST
A Chinese Odyssey Part Three
Comedian Stephen Chow’s priceless deadpan performance in his dual roles of Joker and Monkey King is a big reason the two-part A Chinese Odyssey (1995) is so beloved by its fans.
So a part three sans Chow – and much of the original Hong Kong cast – is absolute travesty in this sequel to the Journey To The West movies.
Even the jokes here are recycled. Did director Jeffrey Lau run out of money and ideas?
(ST)

Rogue One: A Star Wars Story
Gareth Edwards
The story: The Rebel Alliance recruits a reluctant Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones) in its war against the evil Galactic Empire. Her missing-for-years father Galen (Mads Mikkelsen) has secretly sent a message about the Empire’s powerful new weapon, the Death Star, through former Imperial pilot Bodhi (Riz Ahmed). She embarks on a mission with intelligence officer Cassian (Diego Luna), blind warrior Chirrut (Donnie Yen), freelance assassin Baze (Jiang Wen) and android K-2SO (Alan Tudyk) to track down her father and finds out that the planet-zapping Death Star has a weakness.
Rogue One is the call sign of the space vehicle that they travel in.

For those who have wondered how the Empire could build such a powerful weapon of destruction and yet conveniently leave a fatal flaw in it that would allow Luke Skywalker to destroy it in Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope (1977), this movie is for you.
Rogue One serves to bridge Episode III – Revenge Of The Sith (2005), which ends with the construction of the Death Star, and A New Hope, which starts with rebel leader Princess Leia having acquired the blueprint for it. But I suppose Episode 3.5 would have made for an awkward title.
Like the last Star Wars title, The Force Awakens (2015), this new instalment features a diverse cast in terms of gender and ethnicity.
Felicity Jones makes the jump from award-winning dramas (The Theory Of Everything, 2014) to big-budget movies (Inferno, 2016) and her strong-willed and quick- thinking heroine is compelling. Mexican actor Diego Luna and British-Pakistani actor-rapper Riz Ahmed are competent in their roles.
And, cue sigh of relief, Hong Kong action star Donnie Yen is no mere token presence. Chirrut is some kind of Jedi gongfu warrior and Yen gets to show off some moves and also has a poignant and pivotal scene towards the end.
In comparison, acclaimed Chinese actor-director Jiang Wen has less to do, although he does make an impact of sorts with his screen presence.
There is also comic relief from K-2SO (voiced by Alan Tudyk) – a droll droid in the tradition of C-3PO – once part of the short-lived space adventure series, Firefly (2002).
While the movie is a little confusing to follow at the beginning, jumping as it does from location to location, director Gareth Edwards (Godzilla, 2014) soon gets a handle on its scale as he juggles more intimate moments between the characters with the bigger battle and space scenes.
So, Rogue One is entertaining enough, but there is not much surprise as to how things turn out, given that the audience already knows that Princess Leia has the plans in A New Hope.
If only the story could have gone a little rogue.
(ST)

Imperfections
Ellen Loo

Fabulous
Sammi Cheng

There seems to be a lot weighing on Hong Kong singer-songwriter Ellen Loo’s mind.
On her latest solo Mandarin album, images of destruction and perversion of the natural world flit across tracks such as the guitar- and-tambourine-accompanied Mai Kong Qi De Ren (literally The Man Selling Air) and the flamenco- tinged Wu He (No Seeds).
She paints a bleak picture of the former: “Who dares to put a price tag on the water and land, air, forests/No responsibility, no life, nobody leaves here alive”.
On the song Ka Dai (Cassette), she wonders if she is out of step with everyone else: “The world outside wants me to go faster.../But I’m stuck in rewind in the machine”.
While she explores unusual territory lyrically, the music feels a little less engaging at first compared with that of her previous albums The Ripples (2011) and You’re Nobody To Me (2012).
The electro-pop of Through The Hurdles, which Loo composed with Hong Kong pop star Sammi Cheng for her Cantonese record Fabulous is more immediate. The uplifting dance number features lyrics by Lin Xi: “Through the hurdles, do you need permission from the world to be happy/Through the hurdles, only if you can let things go can you carry them”.
There is a good mix of fast and slow songs here, including radio- friendly numbers such as ballad I’m Not A Singer and mid-tempo track 8km.
She breaks into full-on dance diva mode with Incredible and the title track, on which she proclaims: “We make it fabulous”. Yes indeed, she does.
(ST)

10,000 Miles
Simon Hung
The story: High school student Kevin (Huang Yuan) is so determined to run that he leaves home to join his elder brother Sean’s (Darren Wang) track team. He gets rejected, but Ellie (Megan Lai), a senior member of the team, starts to train him. Their burgeoning relationship is tested when Kevin defies her to take part in a competition despite being injured.

There is a thin line between being passionate about something and being pig-headed and reckless about it. It is a line that Kevin crosses with abandon.
Injured as a result of over-training, he insists on taking part in a competition despite being warned that doing so could cripple him. On top of his petulant behaviour, he is also often shouty and unreasonable.
If not for the fact that Huang plays him with such earnestness, he would be completely insufferable.
It does not help that director and co-writer Simon Hung piles on florid emotions and cliches, turning 10,000 Miles into a sports film on melodrama steroids.
The story veers off-track when Kevin turns to driving a taxi to make a living while Sean bizarrely ends up as a criminal. Thrown into the mix are a tragic past for Ellie, Kevin’s disapproving father and an orphanage that needs to be saved from impending closure.
And then there is the Jay Chou cameo.
The Mandopop king drops in for a scene as his younger, demo-toting self taking a cab ride to a record company, inspiring Kevin in the process to keep running. This is even more jarring than superstar Andy Lau’s appearance as himself at the end of the youth romance comedy Our Times (2015), as it jolts one out of the movie.
Kevin eventually takes on a brutal run along the Silk Road to fulfil a promise. The movie then ends abruptly, as though it has suddenly run out of steam.
(ST)

Progress Reports
Eli Hsieh
Thanks to a Golden Melody Award win for Best New Artist in June, Taiwanese Eli Hsieh’s debut album Progress Reports – released on Dec 31 last year – has been getting more attention, including from this reviewer. And deservedly so.
The work is intimate and ambitious. Conceptually, it was inspired by American writer Daniel Keyes’ sci-fi short story Flowers For Algernon, comprising progress reports by the protagonist Charlie, as his low IQ is boosted through surgery. But the experiment is ultimately a failure.
The singer-songwriter’s pellucid voice evokes an unvarnished portrait of a young man’s emotional world. In a life that can be filled with uncertainty and diminished expectations, there are moments of grace and light.
The opening track Roam finds him contemplating: “What have I lost, what have I found/I don’t want that much right now.” Worry Song finds him fretting about the state we are in: “The whole world, the dark world/But I’m still living in these times/So I can only sing.”
There are no grandiose dreams, only modest ambitions to hold on to. On the guitar ballad Light, he wants to shine bright – but not like the sun: “I only wish to be a lamp for you/Press the switch when you need me.”
Just when you have him pegged as a sensitive troubadour, Hsieh surprises you with the rock-tinged You Found Me that harks back to early Maroon 5, a splash of electronica on Still Alive and then, for good measure, a dose of rap on You Found Me.
He might be a mercurial millennial, but there is no doubting the power of his songs. He performs in Singapore on Feb 11 as part of the Huayi Chinese Festival of Arts. For those who watched him sing as a 13-year-old on the singing contest One Million Star in 2007, this would be a chance to see how far he has progressed.
(ST)

Suddenly 17
Zhang Mo
The story: Liang (Ni Ni) has been with her boyfriend Mao (Wallace Huo) for 10 years, but the marriage proposal she has been expecting from him does not arrive. A box of chocolates she buys, for her to eat away her sorrows, turns out to have magical powers. Each piece of chocolate consumed returns her to her 17-year-old self, albeit in her 28-year-old body. The younger Liang then falls for a biker kid, Yan (Wang Ta-lu).

Body swopping is a common plot device in films that still works when it is done well. The massive success of this year’s hit Japanese anime Your Name is a case in point.
Director and co-writer Zhang Mo tries to give a twist to the tried-and- tested genre by swopping the same person at different ages into one body. Unfortunately, it does not work.
For one thing, the older and younger Liang seem like two different people rather than the same person at different ages. Big Liang is mousy and eager to please her man, while Little Liang brashly takes the initiative and is committed to her drawings and paintings.
Suddenly 17 ends up being an unfunny split personality movie – it is dour when one sees Big Liang and needlessly manic when Little Liang takes over because, well, youth rocks.
That both personalities are, in fact, Liang means that the antagonism between them feels forced – she is ultimately making things difficult for herself.
The idea here is that one’s youthful self is more idealistic and authentic and worth holding on to. Unfortunately, the execution of it is incredibly literal – Big Liang tries to hold on to Little Liang in one scene.
Meanwhile, the underwritten male characters seem like poor motivators for Liang’s actions.
Did Zhang pick the light-hearted romance comedy genre to steer clear of comparisons with her acclaimed film-making father Zhang Yimou’s dramas?
The comparisons will be made regardless and, based on this work, they will not be favourable.
(ST)

Museum
Keishi Otomo
The story: A woman is killed by ravenous dogs. An unemployed man who mooches off his mother is killed in yet another grisly manner. As detective Sawamura (Shun Oguri) digs deeper into the murders, a link surfaces to an earlier case of a girl encased in resin. Then, his estranged wife and their son go missing. Who is behind it all and what does he have planned for Sawamura? Based on the 2013-2014 manga by Ryosuke Tomoe.

It does not seem all that long ago (2005, actually) that Japanese actor Oguri broke out in the idol drama Boys Over Flowers as pretty-as- a-flower Hanazawa Rui.
Here, he plays a grizzled detective, Sawamura, a man stretched to breaking point by a sadistic serial killer who hides behind a frog mask.
While it is laudable that the 33- year-old actor wants to stretch himself professionally, Museum is not quite the ideal vehicle for doing so – it comes across as being more interested in the horrific spectacle of death than the psychology behind the crimes.
The gruesome murders are each described by the perpetrator as punishments, including “dog food penalty” and “feel pain of mom penalty”. They recall the horrific murders and the deliberate way in which the victims were displayed in Seven (1995).
The titular museum is a twisted take on the concept by the killer, who envisions a series of bloodcurdling tableaux for his museum of horrors. Alas, the motivation behind his plan is cursory.
In other respects, director Keishi Otomo, who did a better job with adapting the period action manga Rurouni Kenshin, is too heavy- handed – from the repeated flashbacks to the over-the-top emotions spilling forth.
This is an exhibit of a movie that is too baldly manipulative.
(ST)