Pleasure Factory
Film-maker Ekachai Uekrongtham has more than sex on his mind in this exploration of the Geylang red-light district.
He is interested in the connections forged between the pleasure seekers and the pleasure providers but it would have helped to have stronger characters anchoring the story in the first place.
We are presented with three interwoven stories dealing with different facets of the world’s oldest profession – prostitution.
The first sees a national serviceman (Loo Zihan) seeking to lose his virginity. He gets his more experienced buddy along to help him navigate the back alleys of Geylang but finds the girl (Xu Er) he wants on his own.
The second story has Taiwanese actress Yang Kuei-mei playing a jaded prostitute who initiates her daughter into the trade.
The third is about an encounter between a young flesh peddler and a tattooed busker.
The problem with having multiple stories is that they often feel underdeveloped. The last is the weakest and barely leaves an impression. There seems to be a danger of this story-telling device being overused with Eric Khoo’s Be With Me (2005) and Wee Li Lin’s Gone Shopping (2007) both taking a similar approach.
It’s difficult to empathise or care for Factory’s characters when you know little about them and the problem is compounded when you have so many different characters.
The second story at least has a sense of intrigue about it – who exactly is the character played by Thai-born heart-throb Ananda Everingham, and why is he following the daughter around?
It also has Yang, whose emotionally wrought performance would have benefited from some context of the mother-daughter relationship.
As it is, her grief feels abstract and distant.
The first story arc is the strongest, and Ekachai imbues what could have been a bawdy ritual with an unexpected sweetness.
Much hinges upon the performances of Loo and Xu as they communicate and connect prior to, and through, sex.
While the performances are a little raw, both actors handle the bedroom scene admirably and convey the awkwardness and touching tenderness of a sexual encounter.
Unfortunately though, the film as a whole just doesn’t quite measure up.
(ST)