The Mayday 2017 Life Tour takes its name from a track titled Life Co Ltd on the Taiwanese band's last album History Of Tomorrow (2016).
It also serves as an inspiration for the humorous and action-packed videos interspersed throughout the concert at the Singapore Indoor Stadium on Friday (Dec 15). The concept is that the quintet - frontman Ashin, guitarists Monster and Stone, bassist Masa, drummer Guan You - are out-of-work superheroes recruited to work in a company to fight evil once more.
The slick-looking clips were in keeping with the high production values of the gig, from the programmed light sticks given to every ticket holder to the versatile stage, parts of which could ascend and descend. The band performed The Dark Knight on a raised platform and it looked as though they were atop an apartment building with the rest of the city spread out behind them. It definitely made an impact visually.
There was quite a lot going on but it was not quite enough to distract one from the fact that Ashin was not in top form at first.
Perhaps starting with the fast-paced and high-pitched Party Animal was not the best idea and his vocals felt a bit raw. He sounded strained on the high notes and even waded into dubious keys at points.
But just as I was wondering if this would be the first Mayday concert where I did not get up on my feet, the band found a second wave of energy and Ashin's pipes finally warmed up. Following the high-octane Jump and the Minnan number Motor Rock, he asked the fans to help fulfil their dream of holding an outdoor concert in Singapore by lifting the roof with some noise. They duly obliged.
He quipped: "We'll have to see ear doctors when we get back."
Taiwanese band Mayday mark their 20th anniversary in 2017 and over the years, they have built a large and dedicated fanbase.
The band mark their 20th anniversary in 2017 and over the years, they have built a large and dedicated fanbase.
Some of the fans prepared the mini blue banners ("Mayday is.... Monster Stone Masa Ming Ashin & ME!") that were displayed during People Life, Ocean Wild, the rousing title track of their 2001 album. (Guan You is also known as Ming.)
Others prepped the audience to chant "jia ban (overtime)" instead of "encore" at the end of the set, in keeping with the show's theme.
The band kicked things up a notch during the encore with a line-up that included the fast-paced Sad People Should Not Listen To Slow Songs and the ballad Onion, written by Ashin for Taiwanese singer Aska Yang.
The highlight of the concert was 10,000 people - on the first of three sold-out nights - fervently belting out the classic hit Tenderness as lightsticks shone in unison.
The highlight was 10,000 people - on the first of three sold-out nights - fervently belting out the classic hit Tenderness as lightsticks shone in unison.
By the time Mayday ended their three-hour-long gig with the defiant Stubborn, I was ready for more overtime.
(ST)
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
En
Li Ronghao
Chinese singer-songwriter Li Ronghao has made his name with finely crafted, and performed, mid-tempo tracks about life and love on Model (2013), 2014’s eponymous album and An Ideal (2016).
He shakes things up here on the opening title track by serving a slice of electronica pop with lyrics that sketch a portrait of millennial youth: “Don’t like tattoos of dragons and phoenixes/To bleed for one you love/Perhaps the upper classes won’t get it.”
The misguided attempt to connect with a younger audience is worrying. Luckily, much of the album is still Li doing what he does best – contemplating the vicissitudes of life and relationships at a slower pace.
The poignant Ballad sees him draw strength from ditties that remind him of home: “Ballads from hometown/ Are a good thing to me/They’re the most tenacious side of me/Whenever I feel low, I’d sing them.”
Wish You Happiness is melodic and moving: “Last night, unknowingly, falling leaves fell, a fairy-tale like autumn/That day a girl faced the phone, do you still love me.”
There is also Teenager, a song about taking life by the horns which features a cappella harmonisation: “While you’re still unafraid/Choose a path and set off/Don’t look back/ While you’re still a young man.” Despite the title, this might resonate more strongly with older listeners looking wistfully back on their youth.
(ST)
Li Ronghao
Chinese singer-songwriter Li Ronghao has made his name with finely crafted, and performed, mid-tempo tracks about life and love on Model (2013), 2014’s eponymous album and An Ideal (2016).
He shakes things up here on the opening title track by serving a slice of electronica pop with lyrics that sketch a portrait of millennial youth: “Don’t like tattoos of dragons and phoenixes/To bleed for one you love/Perhaps the upper classes won’t get it.”
The misguided attempt to connect with a younger audience is worrying. Luckily, much of the album is still Li doing what he does best – contemplating the vicissitudes of life and relationships at a slower pace.
The poignant Ballad sees him draw strength from ditties that remind him of home: “Ballads from hometown/ Are a good thing to me/They’re the most tenacious side of me/Whenever I feel low, I’d sing them.”
Wish You Happiness is melodic and moving: “Last night, unknowingly, falling leaves fell, a fairy-tale like autumn/That day a girl faced the phone, do you still love me.”
There is also Teenager, a song about taking life by the horns which features a cappella harmonisation: “While you’re still unafraid/Choose a path and set off/Don’t look back/ While you’re still a young man.” Despite the title, this might resonate more strongly with older listeners looking wistfully back on their youth.
(ST)
Tuesday, December 05, 2017
Eason Says C’mon In~ Tour In Singapore
Singapore Indoor Stadium/Sunday
No fancy staging, no eye-popping costumes and no sign of his best-known hits.
Instead, Hong Kong singer Eason Chan tried something different with this C’mon In~ gig, which is also the title of his most recent Mandarin album.
He performed all 10 tracks from it and shared anecdotes about them. Usually, only a few numbers from a new record would be plugged and performed, but he gave all of them space to breathe with this format.
It was a conceit that worked, thanks to the fine form of his voice and the strength of the material. It ranged from the beautiful balladry of Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss) to the lively Hai Dan (Sigh), a retro dance tune that served up sea urchin as a metaphor for how a man lives his life.
And “slow song with a groove” Ling Xia Ji Fen Zhong (Freeze), inspired by the late English singer-songwriter George Michael, painted a picture of wintry New York as smoke swirled on stage.
Dressed in a casual ensemble of jacket, T-shirt and trackpants, Chan was in a relaxed and expansive mood on the final stop of the tour.
With no strict run-down to adhere to, he digressed all over in his chatter (“Let’s talk about gossip. Actually, I’m really out of it.”) and danced when the mood seized him.
Speaking in a mix of Cantonese, Mandarin and English, he recalled the madness that would usually follow when a movable stage descends. Complete with actions and exaggerated expressions, he recreated the rush to change costumes and take a sip of water – sometimes getting a mic poked in his face.
In addition to songs from C’mon In~, he also performed a selection of Cantonese tracks for the sold-out crowd of 5,000.
As he rattled off names of past hits, including King Of Karaoke and Next Year Today, the crowd roared with approval – only to have him declare that these were tracks he would not be singing.
Instead, he dug deep into his back catalogue and came up with numbers such as Superman’s Theme from 1998 as well as a Canto-Mando mash-up of White Rose and Red Rose.
It was not as though he was out to alienate the audience, but this cosy setting – though perhaps, say, the Esplanade Concert Hall would have been more ideal – was a good platform to trot out material that might not have been big hits, but was still important to him.
And what was important to fans was another chance to hear Chan live in concert – regardless of the format.
(ST)
Singapore Indoor Stadium/Sunday
No fancy staging, no eye-popping costumes and no sign of his best-known hits.
Instead, Hong Kong singer Eason Chan tried something different with this C’mon In~ gig, which is also the title of his most recent Mandarin album.
He performed all 10 tracks from it and shared anecdotes about them. Usually, only a few numbers from a new record would be plugged and performed, but he gave all of them space to breathe with this format.
It was a conceit that worked, thanks to the fine form of his voice and the strength of the material. It ranged from the beautiful balladry of Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss) to the lively Hai Dan (Sigh), a retro dance tune that served up sea urchin as a metaphor for how a man lives his life.
And “slow song with a groove” Ling Xia Ji Fen Zhong (Freeze), inspired by the late English singer-songwriter George Michael, painted a picture of wintry New York as smoke swirled on stage.
Dressed in a casual ensemble of jacket, T-shirt and trackpants, Chan was in a relaxed and expansive mood on the final stop of the tour.
With no strict run-down to adhere to, he digressed all over in his chatter (“Let’s talk about gossip. Actually, I’m really out of it.”) and danced when the mood seized him.
Speaking in a mix of Cantonese, Mandarin and English, he recalled the madness that would usually follow when a movable stage descends. Complete with actions and exaggerated expressions, he recreated the rush to change costumes and take a sip of water – sometimes getting a mic poked in his face.
In addition to songs from C’mon In~, he also performed a selection of Cantonese tracks for the sold-out crowd of 5,000.
As he rattled off names of past hits, including King Of Karaoke and Next Year Today, the crowd roared with approval – only to have him declare that these were tracks he would not be singing.
Instead, he dug deep into his back catalogue and came up with numbers such as Superman’s Theme from 1998 as well as a Canto-Mando mash-up of White Rose and Red Rose.
It was not as though he was out to alienate the audience, but this cosy setting – though perhaps, say, the Esplanade Concert Hall would have been more ideal – was a good platform to trot out material that might not have been big hits, but was still important to him.
And what was important to fans was another chance to hear Chan live in concert – regardless of the format.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 29, 2017
Martial God Cardea
Sandee Chan
Watch out, Taiwanese singer-songwriter Sandee Chan is on the warpath.
But instead of a cacophonous war cry, she has crafted a melancholic, chilled out album which seems to take aim at the impact of technology on our lives in the elliptical lyrics.
In the synth-rock number He’s A Space Debris From The Doomsday Prophecy, Mayday’s Monster and Stone are roped in for guitar duty. Is doomsday linked to the ubiquity of the online realm (“Anime, chasing serials, cheap flights and then search/For a long vacation”)? The repetition of the phrase “keep floating” in English suggests a kind of alienating bubble or cocoon which that world creates.
There is both pessimism and optimism as she vacillates between helplessness in There’s Nothing I Can Do About It and a guarded hopefulness in That’s Not The Only Thing I Can Do.
The title track imagines that Cardea is someone’s online handle, which is appropriate, given that Cardea is the Roman goddess of the door hinge. Chan grapples with the nature of the Internet beast: “When information civilisation is preserving me through text/An ideal life is a sorrow that loses control the more it stays silent.”
Romance is ephemeral in this brave new world. In the track Three Days And Two Nights, she writes: “I just wanted to like you at that time in that way/So I liked you at that time in that way.”
After all, being alone is not necessarily a bad thing, as depicted on the opening track Solitude.
With a line in Japanese, “Densha de iku (Going by train)”, one could imagine her on the Tokyo subway, wrapped up in her own world: “I’m not a prime number, don’t beautify the pain, reading a book, traversing imaginary lands.”
It can be a challenging journey, but one is happy to tag along for the ride.
(ST)
Sandee Chan
Watch out, Taiwanese singer-songwriter Sandee Chan is on the warpath.
But instead of a cacophonous war cry, she has crafted a melancholic, chilled out album which seems to take aim at the impact of technology on our lives in the elliptical lyrics.
In the synth-rock number He’s A Space Debris From The Doomsday Prophecy, Mayday’s Monster and Stone are roped in for guitar duty. Is doomsday linked to the ubiquity of the online realm (“Anime, chasing serials, cheap flights and then search/For a long vacation”)? The repetition of the phrase “keep floating” in English suggests a kind of alienating bubble or cocoon which that world creates.
There is both pessimism and optimism as she vacillates between helplessness in There’s Nothing I Can Do About It and a guarded hopefulness in That’s Not The Only Thing I Can Do.
The title track imagines that Cardea is someone’s online handle, which is appropriate, given that Cardea is the Roman goddess of the door hinge. Chan grapples with the nature of the Internet beast: “When information civilisation is preserving me through text/An ideal life is a sorrow that loses control the more it stays silent.”
Romance is ephemeral in this brave new world. In the track Three Days And Two Nights, she writes: “I just wanted to like you at that time in that way/So I liked you at that time in that way.”
After all, being alone is not necessarily a bad thing, as depicted on the opening track Solitude.
With a line in Japanese, “Densha de iku (Going by train)”, one could imagine her on the Tokyo subway, wrapped up in her own world: “I’m not a prime number, don’t beautify the pain, reading a book, traversing imaginary lands.”
It can be a challenging journey, but one is happy to tag along for the ride.
(ST)
Fireworks, Should We See It From The Side Or The Bottom?
Akiyuki Shinbo
The story: Norimichi (Masaki Suda) and Yusuke (Mamoru Miyano) have a crush on their junior high school classmate Nazuna (Suzu Hirose). On the day of the summer festival, Nazuna asks Yusuke to go with her to watch the fireworks after she wins a swimming race among the three of them and gets to have her way. Norimichi later finds out the reason for her actions and wishes that he had won the race instead. In frustration, he throws a mysterious ball picked up by Nazuna from the sea – and finds himself back at the moment of the swim.
While it is based on the 1993 live-action movie of the same name, the timing of this adaptation might have something to do with the runaway success of the anime Your Name (2016), a youthful romance fantasy which had body-swopping and time-travel.
And unfortunately for Fireworks, that makes its time-travelling conceit feel a little tired. The animation also seemed more lush in Your Name, though director Akiyuki Shinbo, best known for the magical girls fantasy series, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011), comes up with some beautiful shots of colourful fireworks going off at close range.
There are other things to like about the film as well.
The setting is a seaside town and the depiction of giant wind turbines, rocky promontories and students on bicycles tearing down the steep roads anchors the film with a strong sense of place. Perhaps as a clue, the name of the town is Moshimo, a homonym for “if” in Japanese.
The nuances of teenage male friendships and loyalties are sensitively handled: What do you do when you and your bestie both like the same girl?
The awkward silences and denials of Norimichi and Yusuke about this huge thing between them are entirely believable.
In fact, this feels more interesting than the actual romantic coupling as Nazuna remains somewhat opaque beyond being an unhappy figure of desire.
Meanwhile, the title is linked to a discussion Norimichi’s friends have about fireworks – are they round or are they flat? It is a question upon which everything and nothing hinges.
(ST)
Akiyuki Shinbo
The story: Norimichi (Masaki Suda) and Yusuke (Mamoru Miyano) have a crush on their junior high school classmate Nazuna (Suzu Hirose). On the day of the summer festival, Nazuna asks Yusuke to go with her to watch the fireworks after she wins a swimming race among the three of them and gets to have her way. Norimichi later finds out the reason for her actions and wishes that he had won the race instead. In frustration, he throws a mysterious ball picked up by Nazuna from the sea – and finds himself back at the moment of the swim.
While it is based on the 1993 live-action movie of the same name, the timing of this adaptation might have something to do with the runaway success of the anime Your Name (2016), a youthful romance fantasy which had body-swopping and time-travel.
And unfortunately for Fireworks, that makes its time-travelling conceit feel a little tired. The animation also seemed more lush in Your Name, though director Akiyuki Shinbo, best known for the magical girls fantasy series, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011), comes up with some beautiful shots of colourful fireworks going off at close range.
There are other things to like about the film as well.
The setting is a seaside town and the depiction of giant wind turbines, rocky promontories and students on bicycles tearing down the steep roads anchors the film with a strong sense of place. Perhaps as a clue, the name of the town is Moshimo, a homonym for “if” in Japanese.
The nuances of teenage male friendships and loyalties are sensitively handled: What do you do when you and your bestie both like the same girl?
The awkward silences and denials of Norimichi and Yusuke about this huge thing between them are entirely believable.
In fact, this feels more interesting than the actual romantic coupling as Nazuna remains somewhat opaque beyond being an unhappy figure of desire.
Meanwhile, the title is linked to a discussion Norimichi’s friends have about fireworks – are they round or are they flat? It is a question upon which everything and nothing hinges.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
The Golden Monk
Wong Jing, Billy Chung
The story: In a time of demons and exorcists in Hangzhou, Butong (Zheng Kai) is a monk with supernatural powers – and a head of hair so tough that he cannot receive a tonsure. He crosses paths with Jade (Kitty Zhang), an exorcist who retains memories of her past life as a fairy banished from heaven after breaking a rule by falling in love with another fairy, Golden Child (Zheng). However, she is unable to see that Butong is Golden Child’s current incarnation.
After a surprisingly worthy outing with the crime epic Chasing The Dragon (2017), Hong Kong film-maker Wong Jing is back to his sloppy ways.
He co-directs with Billy Chung (The Man From Macau, 2014) The Golden Monk, a nonsensical fantasy that is only briefly, intermittently amusing, and inexplicably turns out to be the origin story of another well-known character of whom numerous television series and movies have been made.
If more jokes hit their mark, one would not have time to wonder why heaven here is a vaguely Greek-looking construct. Neither do the nonsensical moments tickle the funny bone. Instead, Butong jarringly breaks into a rendition of Andy Lau’s Water Of Forgetfulness, and Taiwanese actress Evonne Hsieh, who made her debut in the contemporary drama Tiny Times (2013), cringingly parades about as a mustachioed male buffoon.
The central love story is not persuasive and the mix of comedy and romance is strained.
The film is also saddled with an unsavoury and unfunny episode of a man who pimps out his wife, as well as a lame side plot of a dragon spirit attempting to seize control of the court by poisoning the emperor. The running time is further stretched with the inclusion of unnecessarily long recap scenes.
It culminates in a clash of the computer-animated titans as an army of golden monks battles with a villainous dragon. But the CGI stakes are not enough for one to feel invested in this showdown.
Perhaps The Golden Monk might have greater appeal in China, where Zheng is best known as a cast member in the Chinese version of the South Korean variety show Running Man.
He proves himself to be a game and affable actor but, next time, he should run away from such slipshod material.
(ST)
Wong Jing, Billy Chung
The story: In a time of demons and exorcists in Hangzhou, Butong (Zheng Kai) is a monk with supernatural powers – and a head of hair so tough that he cannot receive a tonsure. He crosses paths with Jade (Kitty Zhang), an exorcist who retains memories of her past life as a fairy banished from heaven after breaking a rule by falling in love with another fairy, Golden Child (Zheng). However, she is unable to see that Butong is Golden Child’s current incarnation.
After a surprisingly worthy outing with the crime epic Chasing The Dragon (2017), Hong Kong film-maker Wong Jing is back to his sloppy ways.
He co-directs with Billy Chung (The Man From Macau, 2014) The Golden Monk, a nonsensical fantasy that is only briefly, intermittently amusing, and inexplicably turns out to be the origin story of another well-known character of whom numerous television series and movies have been made.
If more jokes hit their mark, one would not have time to wonder why heaven here is a vaguely Greek-looking construct. Neither do the nonsensical moments tickle the funny bone. Instead, Butong jarringly breaks into a rendition of Andy Lau’s Water Of Forgetfulness, and Taiwanese actress Evonne Hsieh, who made her debut in the contemporary drama Tiny Times (2013), cringingly parades about as a mustachioed male buffoon.
The central love story is not persuasive and the mix of comedy and romance is strained.
The film is also saddled with an unsavoury and unfunny episode of a man who pimps out his wife, as well as a lame side plot of a dragon spirit attempting to seize control of the court by poisoning the emperor. The running time is further stretched with the inclusion of unnecessarily long recap scenes.
It culminates in a clash of the computer-animated titans as an army of golden monks battles with a villainous dragon. But the CGI stakes are not enough for one to feel invested in this showdown.
Perhaps The Golden Monk might have greater appeal in China, where Zheng is best known as a cast member in the Chinese version of the South Korean variety show Running Man.
He proves himself to be a game and affable actor but, next time, he should run away from such slipshod material.
(ST)
Coco
Lee Unkrich
The story: Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez) is a 12-year-old Mexican boy dreaming of becoming a musician like his late idol Ernesto de la Cruz. But music is banned in his household because his great-great-grandfather had left his family to pursue those dreams. Then, Miguel unexpectedly finds himself crossing over to the Land of the Dead during the Day of the Dead festival, where he meets charming, troubled trickster Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), comes face to face with Ernesto (Benjamin Bratt) and learns the truth about the skeleton in his family’s closet.
There was another animated movie recently made about the Day of the Dead, The Book Of Life (2014). Coming in second for a similarly themed project is usually not ideal given that audiences might not have the appetite for more than one such film. Then again, Pixar does have a strong track record in animation works in general.
And indeed, they deliver once again with Coco, with director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3, 2010) at the helm.
The film is a visually gorgeous tapestry of Mexican culture and it fills the screen with the colourful vibrancy of Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) as people honour the memory of the departed with visits to cemeteries and gather for music, food and drink while bright orange marigold blooms carpet the ground.
The loving attention to detail impresses. There is the use of paper cut-outs to effectively convey a brief backstory involving Miguel’s great-great-grandfather and the latter’s daughter, Coco, and the wondrously imagined Land of the Dead, complete with fantastical spirit guides and the depiction of skeletal figures in a way that makes them come alive as characters.
The voice work by the all-Latino cast is spot-on as well, never overshadowing the roles, but instead, fleshing them out and disappearing into them. Gonzalez’s Miguel is realistically torn between following his dreams and listening to his family, Bratt brings a smooth swagger to Ernesto and Garcia Bernal is by turns likeable and pitiful.
It would be all too easy to use Dia de Muertos as a somewhat exotic backdrop but – as far as it is possible for me to tell – there is a ring of authenticity to the proceedings as cultural traditions such as the construction of ofrendas, a collection of objects placed on a ritual altar, are faithfully depicted. Indeed, ofrendas are turned into a key detail in the story, thus weaving them seamlessly into the film.
While The Book Of Life was hampered by an unsatisfactory storyline, Coco is full of heart and it glows with a cosy familial warmth.
(ST)
Lee Unkrich
The story: Miguel (Anthony Gonzalez) is a 12-year-old Mexican boy dreaming of becoming a musician like his late idol Ernesto de la Cruz. But music is banned in his household because his great-great-grandfather had left his family to pursue those dreams. Then, Miguel unexpectedly finds himself crossing over to the Land of the Dead during the Day of the Dead festival, where he meets charming, troubled trickster Hector (Gael Garcia Bernal), comes face to face with Ernesto (Benjamin Bratt) and learns the truth about the skeleton in his family’s closet.
There was another animated movie recently made about the Day of the Dead, The Book Of Life (2014). Coming in second for a similarly themed project is usually not ideal given that audiences might not have the appetite for more than one such film. Then again, Pixar does have a strong track record in animation works in general.
And indeed, they deliver once again with Coco, with director Lee Unkrich (Toy Story 3, 2010) at the helm.
The film is a visually gorgeous tapestry of Mexican culture and it fills the screen with the colourful vibrancy of Dia de Muertos (Day of the Dead) as people honour the memory of the departed with visits to cemeteries and gather for music, food and drink while bright orange marigold blooms carpet the ground.
The loving attention to detail impresses. There is the use of paper cut-outs to effectively convey a brief backstory involving Miguel’s great-great-grandfather and the latter’s daughter, Coco, and the wondrously imagined Land of the Dead, complete with fantastical spirit guides and the depiction of skeletal figures in a way that makes them come alive as characters.
The voice work by the all-Latino cast is spot-on as well, never overshadowing the roles, but instead, fleshing them out and disappearing into them. Gonzalez’s Miguel is realistically torn between following his dreams and listening to his family, Bratt brings a smooth swagger to Ernesto and Garcia Bernal is by turns likeable and pitiful.
It would be all too easy to use Dia de Muertos as a somewhat exotic backdrop but – as far as it is possible for me to tell – there is a ring of authenticity to the proceedings as cultural traditions such as the construction of ofrendas, a collection of objects placed on a ritual altar, are faithfully depicted. Indeed, ofrendas are turned into a key detail in the story, thus weaving them seamlessly into the film.
While The Book Of Life was hampered by an unsatisfactory storyline, Coco is full of heart and it glows with a cosy familial warmth.
(ST)
C’mon In~
Eason Chan
Thank goodness Hong Kong singer Eason Chan’s mentoring duties on reality show Sing! China have not kept him from putting out new music.
And if he was stressed with juggling a busy schedule, it does not show on C’mon In~, his latest Mandarin album since 2014’s Rice & Shine.
In keeping with the welcoming title, the opening track Fang (Relax) is an invitation to lounge on the sand: “If the world turned into a beach/Just laze if you want to laze, who cares, ya, how nice.”
It is enough to make one forget about the grey skies and thunderstorms outside the window.
The relaxed vibe carries through to the second and third numbers. Hong Kong’s Jerald Chan (no relation to Eason) and Taiwan’s David Ke are behind the music and lyrics respectively for this breezy trio.
The retro dance of Sigh is a winner, but I prefer the Mandarin title, Hai Dan, which means sea urchin.
The word “dan” is also a homonym for “courage” and Ke’s lyrics paint a picture of a man whose prickly exterior is merely a protective shell: “It’s just that this man, whose thoughts are milder than anyone else’s/Won’t admit, but sigh, living like a sea urchin.”
Just when it seems like C’mon In~ is going to be the Mandarin counterpart of sorts to the all-dance Cantonese disc Listen To Eason Chan (2007), the pace slows down for Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss), which literally translates to the evocative Who Is Going To Cut The Moonlight.
Chan’s rich pipes have always shone on ballads and Miss is tailor-made for him to do precisely that. He sings tenderly, reminiscing: “Too many memories, how am I supposed to pack them into the luggage.”
Adding to the variety here are dance number You Shang Jiao (Notice), which takes a swipe at social media obsession, and dramatic electro-pop track Fu Ke Bai (Leap), which uses the Foucault pendulum as a metaphor for the inexorable forces of life.
He sings on Miss: “The world is a mess, but what can we do/Lift our heads up occasionally and good thing there’s a moon to admire.”
Good thing there is an Eason Chan album to indulge in every once in a while.
(ST)
Eason Chan
Thank goodness Hong Kong singer Eason Chan’s mentoring duties on reality show Sing! China have not kept him from putting out new music.
And if he was stressed with juggling a busy schedule, it does not show on C’mon In~, his latest Mandarin album since 2014’s Rice & Shine.
In keeping with the welcoming title, the opening track Fang (Relax) is an invitation to lounge on the sand: “If the world turned into a beach/Just laze if you want to laze, who cares, ya, how nice.”
It is enough to make one forget about the grey skies and thunderstorms outside the window.
The relaxed vibe carries through to the second and third numbers. Hong Kong’s Jerald Chan (no relation to Eason) and Taiwan’s David Ke are behind the music and lyrics respectively for this breezy trio.
The retro dance of Sigh is a winner, but I prefer the Mandarin title, Hai Dan, which means sea urchin.
The word “dan” is also a homonym for “courage” and Ke’s lyrics paint a picture of a man whose prickly exterior is merely a protective shell: “It’s just that this man, whose thoughts are milder than anyone else’s/Won’t admit, but sigh, living like a sea urchin.”
Just when it seems like C’mon In~ is going to be the Mandarin counterpart of sorts to the all-dance Cantonese disc Listen To Eason Chan (2007), the pace slows down for Shei Lai Jian Yue Guang (Miss), which literally translates to the evocative Who Is Going To Cut The Moonlight.
Chan’s rich pipes have always shone on ballads and Miss is tailor-made for him to do precisely that. He sings tenderly, reminiscing: “Too many memories, how am I supposed to pack them into the luggage.”
Adding to the variety here are dance number You Shang Jiao (Notice), which takes a swipe at social media obsession, and dramatic electro-pop track Fu Ke Bai (Leap), which uses the Foucault pendulum as a metaphor for the inexorable forces of life.
He sings on Miss: “The world is a mess, but what can we do/Lift our heads up occasionally and good thing there’s a moon to admire.”
Good thing there is an Eason Chan album to indulge in every once in a while.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 15, 2017
A Dancing Van Gogh
Stefanie Sun
When the first single, A Dancing Van Gogh, dropped, I was not quite sure what to make of it. One friend remarked that it was “super offbeat” and that not many Mandopop singers could pull it off. Another thought it was terrible.
It was certainly an unlikely choice to herald the release of a new album by home-grown Mandopop queen Stefanie Sun following 2014’s Kepler and last year’s EP Rainbow Bot.
Neither a conventional ballad nor an out-and-out dance number, A Dancing Van Gogh references the famous Dutch artist and his paintings to a mysterious end. There is a breathy edge to Sun’s familiar pipes in the languorous opening couplet: “Sunflowers, golden like fire/Doing away with being wrapped by sunlight.”
This could be a fever dream as suggested by the enigmatic music video of shifting identities and the bridge in the song: “The Starry Night spins me around/Sorrow and merriment roam all over/I can’t bear to, don’t want to wake up”. It builds to a dramatic chorus, with even a choir chiming in eventually.
What it undoubtedly was was attention-grabbing. The track topped the iTunes chart in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore and the music video has chalked up more than 1.1 million views on YouTube.
It still has not quite grown on me, but it suggests that Sun is open to taking risks in her choice of material, which is something to cheer about for an established star.
The question was whether this signalled a completely new direction for the record as a whole, say, the way Tanya Chua went electronica on Aphasia (2015). Perhaps to the relief of her fans, the answer is no.
After all, she works with several familiar names here. Taiwanese singer-songwriter Hush, who penned the track Kepler, writes the lyrics for The Brighter The Day, The Darker The Night and Everyday Happiness.
Also contributing to the album are her regular collaborators, local songwriting-producing twins Lee Shih Shiong – who composed some of her best-known hits such as Cloudy Day, Green Light and Magical – and Wai Shiong, who, not to be outdone, has composed My Desired Happiness, Kite and Angel’s Fingerprints, among others.
Between them, they wrote the music for half the album, tailored to her distinctive, versatile voice. Their songs include the standout poignant number Wind Jacket (“Flying pages of a calendar/Cut and assembled into a wind jacket”).
Elsewhere, Sun displays an aching vulnerability on the ballad A State Of Bliss, while she gets to rock out in the exploratory Floating Islands and the rollicking Oxygenation Period.
Several of the songs are about the passage of time and of people who come and go. But in the midst of change and upheaval, there is also constancy.
Sun sings in the spare closing ballad Extremely Beautiful, for which she penned the lyrics: “Because no matter how cold the wind blows, the umbrella is by my side/Even if the jacket is old, it’ll still keep the chill at bay”.
While A Dancing Van Gogh is not quite as immediate as some of her previous releases, a new album from a well-loved singer can still be a source of comfort.
(ST)
Stefanie Sun
When the first single, A Dancing Van Gogh, dropped, I was not quite sure what to make of it. One friend remarked that it was “super offbeat” and that not many Mandopop singers could pull it off. Another thought it was terrible.
It was certainly an unlikely choice to herald the release of a new album by home-grown Mandopop queen Stefanie Sun following 2014’s Kepler and last year’s EP Rainbow Bot.
Neither a conventional ballad nor an out-and-out dance number, A Dancing Van Gogh references the famous Dutch artist and his paintings to a mysterious end. There is a breathy edge to Sun’s familiar pipes in the languorous opening couplet: “Sunflowers, golden like fire/Doing away with being wrapped by sunlight.”
This could be a fever dream as suggested by the enigmatic music video of shifting identities and the bridge in the song: “The Starry Night spins me around/Sorrow and merriment roam all over/I can’t bear to, don’t want to wake up”. It builds to a dramatic chorus, with even a choir chiming in eventually.
What it undoubtedly was was attention-grabbing. The track topped the iTunes chart in Taiwan, Hong Kong, Malaysia and Singapore and the music video has chalked up more than 1.1 million views on YouTube.
It still has not quite grown on me, but it suggests that Sun is open to taking risks in her choice of material, which is something to cheer about for an established star.
The question was whether this signalled a completely new direction for the record as a whole, say, the way Tanya Chua went electronica on Aphasia (2015). Perhaps to the relief of her fans, the answer is no.
After all, she works with several familiar names here. Taiwanese singer-songwriter Hush, who penned the track Kepler, writes the lyrics for The Brighter The Day, The Darker The Night and Everyday Happiness.
Also contributing to the album are her regular collaborators, local songwriting-producing twins Lee Shih Shiong – who composed some of her best-known hits such as Cloudy Day, Green Light and Magical – and Wai Shiong, who, not to be outdone, has composed My Desired Happiness, Kite and Angel’s Fingerprints, among others.
Between them, they wrote the music for half the album, tailored to her distinctive, versatile voice. Their songs include the standout poignant number Wind Jacket (“Flying pages of a calendar/Cut and assembled into a wind jacket”).
Elsewhere, Sun displays an aching vulnerability on the ballad A State Of Bliss, while she gets to rock out in the exploratory Floating Islands and the rollicking Oxygenation Period.
Several of the songs are about the passage of time and of people who come and go. But in the midst of change and upheaval, there is also constancy.
Sun sings in the spare closing ballad Extremely Beautiful, for which she penned the lyrics: “Because no matter how cold the wind blows, the umbrella is by my side/Even if the jacket is old, it’ll still keep the chill at bay”.
While A Dancing Van Gogh is not quite as immediate as some of her previous releases, a new album from a well-loved singer can still be a source of comfort.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 08, 2017
Unlearn
Ling Kai
Cross Ratio Entertainment
The Greatest Journey
Ruth Kueo
Cros Music
Local female singer-songwriters Ling Kai and Ruth Kueo offer different listening experiences on their latest releases.
Ling Kai’s Unlearn EP is more intriguing. It kicks off with the pop-rock numbers Dumbfounded and Eat, Drink, Sleep, Repeat, which are propelled by her distinctive power pipes. She takes aim at the obsession with social media in Dumbfounded: “Face the camera, don’t be too frank in your emotions/What’s beneath, just guess.”
The singer turns the dial down on the title track and Eighteen, but keeps things compelling. She croons poignantly about growing pains on the latter ballad: “18/That year I thought the world/Was as old as me/ Growing up/Stabs of pain”.
Kueo’s seven-track album is a breezier affair primarily concerned with matters of the heart.
From the bop-along pop of Let It Go to the ballad Without You, the songs are a good foil for her sweet voice. On the track Fake, she shows a bit of welcome sass: “Can we not be fake/Be a little honest/Laugh if you like/If you don’t/Say out loud what you think.”
Simple Happiness is a melodic guitar-accompanied track which is unfortunately marred by lyrics which seem derivative of the well-loved home-grown number If There’re Seasons (“Come home when it’s cold, don’t linger in the wind/There’s understanding in mother’s eyes/And a glint of helplessness”).
Kueo sings on her ballad: “No matter how strong the wind and rain, remember to come home/Thinking of what mother used to say.”
Unlearning what you know might be a good idea when it comes to penning lyrics.
(ST)
Ling Kai
Cross Ratio Entertainment
The Greatest Journey
Ruth Kueo
Cros Music
Local female singer-songwriters Ling Kai and Ruth Kueo offer different listening experiences on their latest releases.
Ling Kai’s Unlearn EP is more intriguing. It kicks off with the pop-rock numbers Dumbfounded and Eat, Drink, Sleep, Repeat, which are propelled by her distinctive power pipes. She takes aim at the obsession with social media in Dumbfounded: “Face the camera, don’t be too frank in your emotions/What’s beneath, just guess.”
The singer turns the dial down on the title track and Eighteen, but keeps things compelling. She croons poignantly about growing pains on the latter ballad: “18/That year I thought the world/Was as old as me/ Growing up/Stabs of pain”.
Kueo’s seven-track album is a breezier affair primarily concerned with matters of the heart.
From the bop-along pop of Let It Go to the ballad Without You, the songs are a good foil for her sweet voice. On the track Fake, she shows a bit of welcome sass: “Can we not be fake/Be a little honest/Laugh if you like/If you don’t/Say out loud what you think.”
Simple Happiness is a melodic guitar-accompanied track which is unfortunately marred by lyrics which seem derivative of the well-loved home-grown number If There’re Seasons (“Come home when it’s cold, don’t linger in the wind/There’s understanding in mother’s eyes/And a glint of helplessness”).
Kueo sings on her ballad: “No matter how strong the wind and rain, remember to come home/Thinking of what mother used to say.”
Unlearning what you know might be a good idea when it comes to penning lyrics.
(ST)
Monday, November 06, 2017
MICappella You And I Live In Concert 2017
Capitol Theatre/Last Saturday
Since their second-place finish in the televised competition The Sing-Off China in 2012, local vocal group MICappella have been honing their craft and growing as a band.
They released their debut album Here We Go in 2013 and followed that up with an ambitious album of original material, MICappella Reloaded, last year.
They have toured as far afield as Europe and Australia and, finally, performed again in Singapore after four years – in their biggest solo show.
Over 21/2 hours, they showed the sold-out crowd of more than 1,000 fans just how far they have come since they formed in 2009.
The sextet were at their strongest on the high-energy original numbers, One Of These Days and Never Be Defeated. They showcased the tightness of MICappella as a music-making unity where everything fit together perfectly, from the vocal percussion to the harmonisation.
The band comprise leader and vocal percussionist Peter Huang, soprano Tay Kexin, alto Calin Wong, tenor Juni Goh, baritone Eugene Yip and bass Goh Mingwei.
It was all too easy to forget sometimes that every note and sound is generated solely by the six of them.
And if there seemed to be quite a reliance on video clips during the evening, it is worth bearing in mind that there were no other musicians or dancers to take over even for a little while to give them a breather.
Huang’s beatboxing solo was a potent, not to mention entertaining, reminder of the musicality of the group’s members as he gave the concertgoers drums, thumping bass and even turntable scratching in the course of his showcase.
Each member had his or her moment to shine and they also took turns at the microphone to share anecdotes, including how they came to cover legendary English band Iron Maiden’s The Trooper.
It was in response to a gauntlet thrown down by some musician friends who asked: “A cappella cannot do heavy metal right?”
The stomper of a cover with an impressive wall of sound certainly proved the doubters wrong.
Even as MICappella stretch themselves by composing their own material, they did not neglect the fans who first got to know them through their covers.
They took on Pharrell Williams’ Happy, Bobby Chen’s One Night In Beijing and, of course, Hu Xia’s Those Bygone Years and Hebe Tien’s A Little Happiness. The music clip for their Hu-Tien mash-up has garnered more than 1.6 million views on YouTube.
The evening had also started with two mega medleys that went through 22 songs in Mandarin, English and even Korean.
However, that felt like packing in too much as it did not give the audience a chance to settle down as the band were constantly switching gears. It was a good thing the pacing became less frenetic once the show got underway.
The final number was a rendition of Mayday’s Minnan dialect ballad Peter & Mary – the first song that MICappella did, back when they had no idea where they were headed.
What came across loud and clear, in that track and throughout the evening, was their joy and excitement in coming together to make music – and that is the heart and soul of a cappella.
(ST)
Capitol Theatre/Last Saturday
Since their second-place finish in the televised competition The Sing-Off China in 2012, local vocal group MICappella have been honing their craft and growing as a band.
They released their debut album Here We Go in 2013 and followed that up with an ambitious album of original material, MICappella Reloaded, last year.
They have toured as far afield as Europe and Australia and, finally, performed again in Singapore after four years – in their biggest solo show.
Over 21/2 hours, they showed the sold-out crowd of more than 1,000 fans just how far they have come since they formed in 2009.
The sextet were at their strongest on the high-energy original numbers, One Of These Days and Never Be Defeated. They showcased the tightness of MICappella as a music-making unity where everything fit together perfectly, from the vocal percussion to the harmonisation.
The band comprise leader and vocal percussionist Peter Huang, soprano Tay Kexin, alto Calin Wong, tenor Juni Goh, baritone Eugene Yip and bass Goh Mingwei.
It was all too easy to forget sometimes that every note and sound is generated solely by the six of them.
And if there seemed to be quite a reliance on video clips during the evening, it is worth bearing in mind that there were no other musicians or dancers to take over even for a little while to give them a breather.
Huang’s beatboxing solo was a potent, not to mention entertaining, reminder of the musicality of the group’s members as he gave the concertgoers drums, thumping bass and even turntable scratching in the course of his showcase.
Each member had his or her moment to shine and they also took turns at the microphone to share anecdotes, including how they came to cover legendary English band Iron Maiden’s The Trooper.
It was in response to a gauntlet thrown down by some musician friends who asked: “A cappella cannot do heavy metal right?”
The stomper of a cover with an impressive wall of sound certainly proved the doubters wrong.
Even as MICappella stretch themselves by composing their own material, they did not neglect the fans who first got to know them through their covers.
They took on Pharrell Williams’ Happy, Bobby Chen’s One Night In Beijing and, of course, Hu Xia’s Those Bygone Years and Hebe Tien’s A Little Happiness. The music clip for their Hu-Tien mash-up has garnered more than 1.6 million views on YouTube.
The evening had also started with two mega medleys that went through 22 songs in Mandarin, English and even Korean.
However, that felt like packing in too much as it did not give the audience a chance to settle down as the band were constantly switching gears. It was a good thing the pacing became less frenetic once the show got underway.
The final number was a rendition of Mayday’s Minnan dialect ballad Peter & Mary – the first song that MICappella did, back when they had no idea where they were headed.
What came across loud and clear, in that track and throughout the evening, was their joy and excitement in coming together to make music – and that is the heart and soul of a cappella.
(ST)
Wednesday, November 01, 2017
illi
Will Pan
After a head injury sustained while rehearsing for his Kingdom Of Eve tour in 2014, Taiwanese-American singer-actor Will Pan dreamt about giving birth to a baby alien – which he believed was his reincarnation. As far as backstories for mainstream albums go, this is pretty left-field.
Not to worry, though, as illi is a solid offering of hip-hop – head for party-hearty track Go Hard and the old-school jam of Coming Home – and ballads with some extra-terrestrial imagery worked in.
On the propulsive number Close Encounter – the title references the 1977 Steven Spielberg sci-fi flick Close Encounters Of The Third Kind – he sings: “Don’t tag this biological aesthetic as a dangerous monstrosity that belongs to Area 51, that’s right I belong in this world.” Area 51 is a classified place in the United States which some believe harbours evidence of alien life.
It is not just an attention-grabbing gimmick here – an alien is also a metaphor for being different and Pan makes a case that he is one.
He is not the strongest singer, but one can see that he puts in the effort from debut album Gecko Stroll (2002), in which he likens himself to a gecko waiting for mosquitoes on the title track, to his latest, 11th record.
It helps that he can also pen radio-friendly hook-filled tracks such as Numb with its stinging chorus: “Break it, forget it, let it go/Don’t test your own cunning/Quiet, don’t speak/Learn to be a mute.”
Sometimes, the material feels a little generic, such as the lightweight love song Fight For You.
The antidote is Dear Memories, in which the bitterness and vitriol aimed at an ex is leavened by the breezy melody: “Didn’t think you were such a beast/Hope you’ll never forget me/Suffer every day.”
Despite the unusual premise, illi is far from alienating.
(ST)
Will Pan
After a head injury sustained while rehearsing for his Kingdom Of Eve tour in 2014, Taiwanese-American singer-actor Will Pan dreamt about giving birth to a baby alien – which he believed was his reincarnation. As far as backstories for mainstream albums go, this is pretty left-field.
Not to worry, though, as illi is a solid offering of hip-hop – head for party-hearty track Go Hard and the old-school jam of Coming Home – and ballads with some extra-terrestrial imagery worked in.
On the propulsive number Close Encounter – the title references the 1977 Steven Spielberg sci-fi flick Close Encounters Of The Third Kind – he sings: “Don’t tag this biological aesthetic as a dangerous monstrosity that belongs to Area 51, that’s right I belong in this world.” Area 51 is a classified place in the United States which some believe harbours evidence of alien life.
It is not just an attention-grabbing gimmick here – an alien is also a metaphor for being different and Pan makes a case that he is one.
He is not the strongest singer, but one can see that he puts in the effort from debut album Gecko Stroll (2002), in which he likens himself to a gecko waiting for mosquitoes on the title track, to his latest, 11th record.
It helps that he can also pen radio-friendly hook-filled tracks such as Numb with its stinging chorus: “Break it, forget it, let it go/Don’t test your own cunning/Quiet, don’t speak/Learn to be a mute.”
Sometimes, the material feels a little generic, such as the lightweight love song Fight For You.
The antidote is Dear Memories, in which the bitterness and vitriol aimed at an ex is leavened by the breezy melody: “Didn’t think you were such a beast/Hope you’ll never forget me/Suffer every day.”
Despite the unusual premise, illi is far from alienating.
(ST)
Monday, October 30, 2017
Wei Bird 2017 Concert
Resorts World Theatre/Last Saturday
The best encore is an unplanned one.
Nowadays, concerts are planned in detail, down to the last note an artist sings. But every once in a while, something surprising and magical happens – as it did at Taiwanese singer-songwriter Wei Li-an’s gig.
The two-hour-long set ended with a planned-for encore of the rousing track Girl and the hit ballad Still that had his fans on their feet and making a beeline for the stage. It left everyone on such a high that the cries of “encore” grew with renewed urgency.
Happily, Wei emerged with a guitar and proceeded to take requests for songs such as Still Loving You and Think Of You First before ending the evening with the delicate beauty of Cloudy Sunflower.
He ended up performing for another 20 minutes.
The singer, who is also known as Weibird or William, said: “I hope you’ve found your moment to take home with you. I’ve found mine.”
On disc, he comes across as a thoughtful young man sensitively probing matters of the heart in melodic songs that linger in the mind, including Have Or Have Not, Slowly Wait and Someone Is Waiting For Me.
Live, he is an affable presence whose pipes shine whether he is rocking out on a number such as Wolves or soaring in his falsetto range on early track Translation Exercise.
He seemed comfortable enough on stage that one would not guess that he was, in his own words, an introvert.
He mused: “If I weren’t a singer, I wouldn’t get to travel to so many places and meet so many people.”
In his more recent albums, Journey Into The Night (2014) and It All Started From An Intro (2016), he has begun to move away from ballads and R&B influences to more adventurous territory, such as venturing into electronica and experimenting with song structure.
But the focus of his Free That Girl tour, which started in 2015, is on his earlier material and mid-tempo hits. Perhaps his next show could show more facets of the talented songwriter.
Still, the concert was an enjoyable one. If anything, he deserved a bigger audience than the crowd of about 1,300.
In one segment, a visual of his room showing a guitar and a work table with a screen and speakers served as the backdrop to an unplugged selection of songs, such as The Fleeing Of A Two-Legged Bookcase and What You Think Of Me.
Judging from his fans’ reactions, there is no question that Weibird flies high in their eyes.
(ST)
Resorts World Theatre/Last Saturday
The best encore is an unplanned one.
Nowadays, concerts are planned in detail, down to the last note an artist sings. But every once in a while, something surprising and magical happens – as it did at Taiwanese singer-songwriter Wei Li-an’s gig.
The two-hour-long set ended with a planned-for encore of the rousing track Girl and the hit ballad Still that had his fans on their feet and making a beeline for the stage. It left everyone on such a high that the cries of “encore” grew with renewed urgency.
Happily, Wei emerged with a guitar and proceeded to take requests for songs such as Still Loving You and Think Of You First before ending the evening with the delicate beauty of Cloudy Sunflower.
He ended up performing for another 20 minutes.
The singer, who is also known as Weibird or William, said: “I hope you’ve found your moment to take home with you. I’ve found mine.”
On disc, he comes across as a thoughtful young man sensitively probing matters of the heart in melodic songs that linger in the mind, including Have Or Have Not, Slowly Wait and Someone Is Waiting For Me.
Live, he is an affable presence whose pipes shine whether he is rocking out on a number such as Wolves or soaring in his falsetto range on early track Translation Exercise.
He seemed comfortable enough on stage that one would not guess that he was, in his own words, an introvert.
He mused: “If I weren’t a singer, I wouldn’t get to travel to so many places and meet so many people.”
In his more recent albums, Journey Into The Night (2014) and It All Started From An Intro (2016), he has begun to move away from ballads and R&B influences to more adventurous territory, such as venturing into electronica and experimenting with song structure.
But the focus of his Free That Girl tour, which started in 2015, is on his earlier material and mid-tempo hits. Perhaps his next show could show more facets of the talented songwriter.
Still, the concert was an enjoyable one. If anything, he deserved a bigger audience than the crowd of about 1,300.
In one segment, a visual of his room showing a guitar and a work table with a screen and speakers served as the backdrop to an unplugged selection of songs, such as The Fleeing Of A Two-Legged Bookcase and What You Think Of Me.
Judging from his fans’ reactions, there is no question that Weibird flies high in their eyes.
(ST)
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Ajin: Demi-Human
Katsuyuki Motohiro
The story: After a traffic accident, hospital intern Kei Nagai (Takeru Satoh) realises that he belongs to an immortal race called Ajin. He is then whisked away by the government and subjected to all manner of experiments. Coming to his rescue is another Ajin, Sato (Go Ayano), who is prepared to destroy humanity to win rights for their kind. But Kei recoils from his violent means. Based on the manga (2012 to present) of the same name by Gamon Sakurai.
Faced with immortals amid society, the Japanese government reacts with fear and suspicion and subjects those it captures to a brutal battery of ordeals.
As a living test subject, Kei has a hellish existence – he is wrapped from head to toe like a mummy, his limbs get hacked off and he gets killed again and again. It is as though he were less than human.
Immortality becomes a curse for Kei.
There are questions here about humanity and mor(t)ality, but in the hands of director Katsuyuki Motohiro (Bayside Shakedown: The Movie, 1998), the movie also works as an exciting thriller in which Ajin is pitted against Ajin.
Satoh, as he did in period actioner Rurouni Kenshin (2012), plays a man reluctant to turn to violence, but is forced to; and Ayano (Lupin The 3rd, 2014) revels in Sato’s villainy.
The immortals are each able to project an entity outside of themselves – Kei calls his a “ghost” – which seems to have a mind of its own.
The special effects team does a good job of depicting these shadowy, not-quite-solid ghosts who are capable of inflicting very real damage.
Given that the Ajin can regenerate after death, how is one supposed to take another down? Kei comes up with a plan to trap Sato, but is blindsided by a detail he did not consider.
There are enough twists and turns to keep one engaged and the good news is that they feel organic to the fantasy world conjured up here.
(ST)
Katsuyuki Motohiro
The story: After a traffic accident, hospital intern Kei Nagai (Takeru Satoh) realises that he belongs to an immortal race called Ajin. He is then whisked away by the government and subjected to all manner of experiments. Coming to his rescue is another Ajin, Sato (Go Ayano), who is prepared to destroy humanity to win rights for their kind. But Kei recoils from his violent means. Based on the manga (2012 to present) of the same name by Gamon Sakurai.
Faced with immortals amid society, the Japanese government reacts with fear and suspicion and subjects those it captures to a brutal battery of ordeals.
As a living test subject, Kei has a hellish existence – he is wrapped from head to toe like a mummy, his limbs get hacked off and he gets killed again and again. It is as though he were less than human.
Immortality becomes a curse for Kei.
There are questions here about humanity and mor(t)ality, but in the hands of director Katsuyuki Motohiro (Bayside Shakedown: The Movie, 1998), the movie also works as an exciting thriller in which Ajin is pitted against Ajin.
Satoh, as he did in period actioner Rurouni Kenshin (2012), plays a man reluctant to turn to violence, but is forced to; and Ayano (Lupin The 3rd, 2014) revels in Sato’s villainy.
The immortals are each able to project an entity outside of themselves – Kei calls his a “ghost” – which seems to have a mind of its own.
The special effects team does a good job of depicting these shadowy, not-quite-solid ghosts who are capable of inflicting very real damage.
Given that the Ajin can regenerate after death, how is one supposed to take another down? Kei comes up with a plan to trap Sato, but is blindsided by a detail he did not consider.
There are enough twists and turns to keep one engaged and the good news is that they feel organic to the fantasy world conjured up here.
(ST)
Wednesday, October 04, 2017
On paper, animated series Neo Yokio sounds intriguing.
It was created by Ezra Koenig, frontman of indie rock band Vampire Weekend, with anime veteran Kazuhiro Furuhashi – director of the acclaimed period action series Rurouni Kenshin (1996 to 1998) – as storyboard artist. It boasts the voice talents of Jaden Smith, Jude Law, Susan Sarandon and Jason Schwartzman.
The show is set in an alternate New York where Magicians who once saved the city from demons are now firmly entrenched as elite Magistocrats and, score one for cultural diversity, the central character Kaz Kaan (voiced by Smith) is African-American.
So far, so promising.
And yet, I could not make it through the first episode.
This American-Japanese co-production blithely invites comparisons with Japanese works given the anime influences, which range from the demon-battling fantasy story to the use of mecha elements such as the robot butler (voiced by Law).
But it comes up far too short of its potential, not to mention its influences.
The first flaw one notices is the lacklustre animation, which makes the show look dated. It works for the opening sequence which is an old tourist promotion clip of the city, but inexplicably, the style does not change noticeably when the story shifts to the present.
Compared with the richly detailed animation of many Japanese series today, Neo Yokio’s artwork feels embarrassingly threadbare, like it was made in the 1990s. If it is meant to be an homage, it does not quite work.
Perhaps the biggest sin here is that the creators did not meld the Japanese and Western elements well.
A successful example would be the animated superhero film Big Hero 6 (2014), which is notably set in the imaginary, futuristic city of San Fransokyo (a conflation of San Francisco and Tokyo).
Its directors Chris Williams and Don Hall turned to the films of acclaimed auteur Hayao Miyazaki (Spirited Away, 2001) for inspiration and even made two research trips to Japan. Yet the movie never feels clunky or showy with unnecessary detail.
Getting inspired and influenced by another culture is perfectly fine, but it is key to not force the issue. And if one can fashion a cohesive and compelling work out of myriad influences, it is surely a sign of brilliance.
Miyazaki himself absorbed Western ideas from European fantasy literature to modernist artist Marc Chagall. He reportedly once travelled to Portugal to look at a work by mediaeval painter Hieronymous Bosch, known for his macabre depictions of hell.
Yet there is no mistaking his vision as a film-maker for anyone else’s and he has, in turn, influenced Western animation. John Lasseter, chief creative officer of acclaimed Pixar Animation Studios, is a big fan of his and has even said: “Whenever we get stuck at Pixar or Disney, I put on a Miyazaki film sequence or two, just to get us inspired again.”
On the Rotten Tomatoes aggregator website, Neo Yokio has a “rotten” rating of 33 per cent from nine reviews. Hollywood Reporter asks reasonably: “(Why) resort to a so-so anime take-off when there’s ample real anime that’s cooler and funnier on its own?”
For instance, Rurouni Kenshin – about a battle-scarred assassin-turned-wandering-swordsman – juggles slapstick humour with deep philosophical questions about sin, guilt and forgiveness.
It is also true that there are several American animation series with distinctive voices such as Rick And Morty (2013 to present), a darkly funny and withering takedown of the wide range of human foibles as brilliant but self-absorbed scientist-inventor Rick and his grandson Morty go on outlandish adventures in the multiverse.
Presumably, Neo Yokio is good, even excellent, in some of these other universes. But in this world,
it is merely an awkward amalgamation of New York and Tokyo whose name does not even roll off the tongue smoothly.
(ST)
It was created by Ezra Koenig, frontman of indie rock band Vampire Weekend, with anime veteran Kazuhiro Furuhashi – director of the acclaimed period action series Rurouni Kenshin (1996 to 1998) – as storyboard artist. It boasts the voice talents of Jaden Smith, Jude Law, Susan Sarandon and Jason Schwartzman.
The show is set in an alternate New York where Magicians who once saved the city from demons are now firmly entrenched as elite Magistocrats and, score one for cultural diversity, the central character Kaz Kaan (voiced by Smith) is African-American.
So far, so promising.
And yet, I could not make it through the first episode.
This American-Japanese co-production blithely invites comparisons with Japanese works given the anime influences, which range from the demon-battling fantasy story to the use of mecha elements such as the robot butler (voiced by Law).
But it comes up far too short of its potential, not to mention its influences.
The first flaw one notices is the lacklustre animation, which makes the show look dated. It works for the opening sequence which is an old tourist promotion clip of the city, but inexplicably, the style does not change noticeably when the story shifts to the present.
Compared with the richly detailed animation of many Japanese series today, Neo Yokio’s artwork feels embarrassingly threadbare, like it was made in the 1990s. If it is meant to be an homage, it does not quite work.
Perhaps the biggest sin here is that the creators did not meld the Japanese and Western elements well.
A successful example would be the animated superhero film Big Hero 6 (2014), which is notably set in the imaginary, futuristic city of San Fransokyo (a conflation of San Francisco and Tokyo).
Its directors Chris Williams and Don Hall turned to the films of acclaimed auteur Hayao Miyazaki (Spirited Away, 2001) for inspiration and even made two research trips to Japan. Yet the movie never feels clunky or showy with unnecessary detail.
Getting inspired and influenced by another culture is perfectly fine, but it is key to not force the issue. And if one can fashion a cohesive and compelling work out of myriad influences, it is surely a sign of brilliance.
Miyazaki himself absorbed Western ideas from European fantasy literature to modernist artist Marc Chagall. He reportedly once travelled to Portugal to look at a work by mediaeval painter Hieronymous Bosch, known for his macabre depictions of hell.
Yet there is no mistaking his vision as a film-maker for anyone else’s and he has, in turn, influenced Western animation. John Lasseter, chief creative officer of acclaimed Pixar Animation Studios, is a big fan of his and has even said: “Whenever we get stuck at Pixar or Disney, I put on a Miyazaki film sequence or two, just to get us inspired again.”
On the Rotten Tomatoes aggregator website, Neo Yokio has a “rotten” rating of 33 per cent from nine reviews. Hollywood Reporter asks reasonably: “(Why) resort to a so-so anime take-off when there’s ample real anime that’s cooler and funnier on its own?”
For instance, Rurouni Kenshin – about a battle-scarred assassin-turned-wandering-swordsman – juggles slapstick humour with deep philosophical questions about sin, guilt and forgiveness.
It is also true that there are several American animation series with distinctive voices such as Rick And Morty (2013 to present), a darkly funny and withering takedown of the wide range of human foibles as brilliant but self-absorbed scientist-inventor Rick and his grandson Morty go on outlandish adventures in the multiverse.
Presumably, Neo Yokio is good, even excellent, in some of these other universes. But in this world,
it is merely an awkward amalgamation of New York and Tokyo whose name does not even roll off the tongue smoothly.
(ST)
Chasing The Dragon
Wong Jing, Jason Kwan
The story: An illegal immigrant (Donnie Yen) who sneaks into Hong Kong in 1963 finds that he gets paid more to fight than to work. He soon rises through the ranks of the underworld because of his fighting skills to become the feared drug lord Crippled Ho. Detective sergeant Lui Lok (Andy Lau) enjoys a parallel ascent in these tumultuous times and the two men forge a partnership.
The selling point of this movie is the first-time collaboration between Hong Kong superstars Donnie Yen and Andy Lau. The bigger surprise is that king of B-grade movies Wong Jing has pulled off an entertaining epic crime flick.
Chasing The Dragon is a new take on the acclaimed crime drama To Be Number One (1991), in which Ray Lui played the real-life gangster Ng Sik Ho, or Crippled Ho. But instead of a slavish remake, the film-makers have smartly conflated it with the story of corrupt cop Lui Lok and used it as an opportunity to increase the star wattage.
Yen is credible as he goes from Teochew-speaking penniless immigrant to ruthless criminal despite being hampered by a limp. His character wants to keep his conscience clean, even as he sinks deeper and deeper into a life of crime. This means Yen gets to exercise both his acting chops and his chopsocky moves.
Lau, having previously played the same role in Lee Rock and Lee Rock II (both in 1991), is comfortable here as the slick cop looking out for himself.
But when put together, the two A-listers come up short in portraying the relationship of two men bound together by brotherhood, blood and money.
Good thing the story itself is engaging. It casts an eye on crime and justice in Hong Kong over a span of several decades, during which the Independent Commission Against Corruption, formed in 1974, turned out to be an agency with real bite, instead of a paper tiger.
The scenes here of the now-demolished Kowloon Walled City are fascinating. The infamously lawless slum has not been sanitised and as the camera winds its way through a maze of drug dens, gambling houses and street hawkers, planes fly absurdly low overhead, rubbish is strewn everywhere and danger lurks around every corner.
Perhaps credit for the film’s gritty authenticity is due to Wong’s co-director Jason Kwan, who makes his directorial debut here after winning praise for his work as a cinematographer on films such as crime thriller Cold War (2012) and romance comedy Love In A Puff (2010).
(ST)
Wong Jing, Jason Kwan
The story: An illegal immigrant (Donnie Yen) who sneaks into Hong Kong in 1963 finds that he gets paid more to fight than to work. He soon rises through the ranks of the underworld because of his fighting skills to become the feared drug lord Crippled Ho. Detective sergeant Lui Lok (Andy Lau) enjoys a parallel ascent in these tumultuous times and the two men forge a partnership.
The selling point of this movie is the first-time collaboration between Hong Kong superstars Donnie Yen and Andy Lau. The bigger surprise is that king of B-grade movies Wong Jing has pulled off an entertaining epic crime flick.
Chasing The Dragon is a new take on the acclaimed crime drama To Be Number One (1991), in which Ray Lui played the real-life gangster Ng Sik Ho, or Crippled Ho. But instead of a slavish remake, the film-makers have smartly conflated it with the story of corrupt cop Lui Lok and used it as an opportunity to increase the star wattage.
Yen is credible as he goes from Teochew-speaking penniless immigrant to ruthless criminal despite being hampered by a limp. His character wants to keep his conscience clean, even as he sinks deeper and deeper into a life of crime. This means Yen gets to exercise both his acting chops and his chopsocky moves.
Lau, having previously played the same role in Lee Rock and Lee Rock II (both in 1991), is comfortable here as the slick cop looking out for himself.
But when put together, the two A-listers come up short in portraying the relationship of two men bound together by brotherhood, blood and money.
Good thing the story itself is engaging. It casts an eye on crime and justice in Hong Kong over a span of several decades, during which the Independent Commission Against Corruption, formed in 1974, turned out to be an agency with real bite, instead of a paper tiger.
The scenes here of the now-demolished Kowloon Walled City are fascinating. The infamously lawless slum has not been sanitised and as the camera winds its way through a maze of drug dens, gambling houses and street hawkers, planes fly absurdly low overhead, rubbish is strewn everywhere and danger lurks around every corner.
Perhaps credit for the film’s gritty authenticity is due to Wong’s co-director Jason Kwan, who makes his directorial debut here after winning praise for his work as a cinematographer on films such as crime thriller Cold War (2012) and romance comedy Love In A Puff (2010).
(ST)
Wednesday, September 27, 2017
Artists' Mood
Leo Wang
On his official Facebook page, Taiwan’s Leo Wang lays out his mission of “trying to combine jazz, hip-hop, reggae and scat singing with Mandarin Chinese in a groovy way, and making his people dance”.
He lives up to that pursuit of eclecticism on his fourth so-called mixtape, an apt description for this album of diverse genres and influences with music that is fun, irreverent and cheeky.
On the opener Thoughts Of Lee Kuo Hsiu, which is addressed to the late Taiwanese theatre pioneer, he raps smoothly: “You’ll slowly get used to my style/And gripe that you get testy on nights without me.”
He switches gears, grooving to a laid-back reggae beat, on Soul Truck and Jam All Night, which is about the pure pleasure of making music: “I think everything will be all right/As long as we can jam all night/Use your hands to drum, use your feet to drum/Use your mouth to drum, use your body to drum.”
Turning Eighteen is about Wang doggedly pursuing his music dreams and it seems to be his own experience cloaked in the guise of advice: “Child, congrats on turning 18/Want to make a living doing music, you might have to move to Taipei/Child, congrats on turning 18/The excuse for moving, just say you’re heading to uni.”
At the same time, it is also a no-holds-barred portrayal of slacker, hormonal youth. J***ing Off, Got Caught sets up the scenario of the title and then gets progressively kinkier.
The mixtape also features collaborations with a few artists.
Weekends With You dissects a mismatched relationship with honesty from his point of view and that of female singer 9m88’s. He confesses: “I just wanna head home I don’t feel so well/I don’t like people.”
He might have to get used to people liking his music, though.
(ST)
Leo Wang
On his official Facebook page, Taiwan’s Leo Wang lays out his mission of “trying to combine jazz, hip-hop, reggae and scat singing with Mandarin Chinese in a groovy way, and making his people dance”.
He lives up to that pursuit of eclecticism on his fourth so-called mixtape, an apt description for this album of diverse genres and influences with music that is fun, irreverent and cheeky.
On the opener Thoughts Of Lee Kuo Hsiu, which is addressed to the late Taiwanese theatre pioneer, he raps smoothly: “You’ll slowly get used to my style/And gripe that you get testy on nights without me.”
He switches gears, grooving to a laid-back reggae beat, on Soul Truck and Jam All Night, which is about the pure pleasure of making music: “I think everything will be all right/As long as we can jam all night/Use your hands to drum, use your feet to drum/Use your mouth to drum, use your body to drum.”
Turning Eighteen is about Wang doggedly pursuing his music dreams and it seems to be his own experience cloaked in the guise of advice: “Child, congrats on turning 18/Want to make a living doing music, you might have to move to Taipei/Child, congrats on turning 18/The excuse for moving, just say you’re heading to uni.”
At the same time, it is also a no-holds-barred portrayal of slacker, hormonal youth. J***ing Off, Got Caught sets up the scenario of the title and then gets progressively kinkier.
The mixtape also features collaborations with a few artists.
Weekends With You dissects a mismatched relationship with honesty from his point of view and that of female singer 9m88’s. He confesses: “I just wanna head home I don’t feel so well/I don’t like people.”
He might have to get used to people liking his music, though.
(ST)
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Home III
Lo Ta-yu
Home Coming
Bobby Chen
Two grizzled veterans of the Taiwanese music scene ruminate on the meaning of home in their new albums.
The question is particularly pertinent for troubadour Lo Ta-yu, 63, as he was born in Taiwan, but has lived in the United States and Hong Kong and has a music studio in Beijing.
It is a theme that he has dealt with before. The songs Home I and Home II are on the 1984 album Home, a very different animal from his earlier, more politically charged works, which led to him being pegged as a “protest singer”.
Then, he yearned for the warmth of the past and wondered on Home II: “What place can appease an exhausted spirit which has been wandering the ends of the world.”
Now the father of a five-year-old daughter, he is the one who is providing a safe haven and it is as if he is singing on her behalf in Home III: “Give me feelings of warmth, understanding, strength and mutual protection/Hope that as I grow up in days to come of cold, heat and storms, my heart will never change.”
Even with an eye on the future, Lo reminisces fondly about the past. On the breezy and folksy Reunion, he recalls his schooldays: “That period in my life with no regrets and no complaints.”
The mood is more elegiac on singer-songwriter Bobby Chen’s record. Its title track begins with a chorus of la-la-las over a simple guitar accompaniment and it is suffused with nostalgia and a gentle melancholy.
It ends with a moving line about his late mother: “My mother, she wasn’t beautiful, how do I describe her.”
On the album closer Yesterday Today Tomorrow, Chen, 58, reflects: “Time is inscrutable/Maybe no one should live today, but dream of returning to yesterday.”
Like Lo, Chen has had a peripatetic existence. But while he has recorded his music in various countries and published books about his overseas travels, he seems to have neglected his own country.
This was the genesis for Home Coming and he even went back to his birthplace, Changhua County, to shoot the music video for the title track.
There is no mistaking the honesty and depth of emotion in these albums and the rough-hewn, weathered voices of the two musicians are part of the homespun charm.
(ST)
Lo Ta-yu
Home Coming
Bobby Chen
Two grizzled veterans of the Taiwanese music scene ruminate on the meaning of home in their new albums.
The question is particularly pertinent for troubadour Lo Ta-yu, 63, as he was born in Taiwan, but has lived in the United States and Hong Kong and has a music studio in Beijing.
It is a theme that he has dealt with before. The songs Home I and Home II are on the 1984 album Home, a very different animal from his earlier, more politically charged works, which led to him being pegged as a “protest singer”.
Then, he yearned for the warmth of the past and wondered on Home II: “What place can appease an exhausted spirit which has been wandering the ends of the world.”
Now the father of a five-year-old daughter, he is the one who is providing a safe haven and it is as if he is singing on her behalf in Home III: “Give me feelings of warmth, understanding, strength and mutual protection/Hope that as I grow up in days to come of cold, heat and storms, my heart will never change.”
Even with an eye on the future, Lo reminisces fondly about the past. On the breezy and folksy Reunion, he recalls his schooldays: “That period in my life with no regrets and no complaints.”
The mood is more elegiac on singer-songwriter Bobby Chen’s record. Its title track begins with a chorus of la-la-las over a simple guitar accompaniment and it is suffused with nostalgia and a gentle melancholy.
It ends with a moving line about his late mother: “My mother, she wasn’t beautiful, how do I describe her.”
On the album closer Yesterday Today Tomorrow, Chen, 58, reflects: “Time is inscrutable/Maybe no one should live today, but dream of returning to yesterday.”
Like Lo, Chen has had a peripatetic existence. But while he has recorded his music in various countries and published books about his overseas travels, he seems to have neglected his own country.
This was the genesis for Home Coming and he even went back to his birthplace, Changhua County, to shoot the music video for the title track.
There is no mistaking the honesty and depth of emotion in these albums and the rough-hewn, weathered voices of the two musicians are part of the homespun charm.
(ST)
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Abstract
Shio Quek
A crop of up-and-comers is injecting the Malaysian music scene with much-needed new blood.
Duo FS (Fuying & Sam) have been scaling the charts with radio-friendly tracks such as It Should Be Better For Us To Break Up, sounding like an updated version of Wu Yin Liang Pin. Meanwhile, Shio Quek is a singer-songwriter in the vein of, say, Penny Tai, and is in fact signed to the latter’s agency.
Sporting a head of pink hair on the album cover, Quek is clearly no shrinking violet.
Opening track Extrication is an atmospheric slice of minimalist electronica with a softly hypnotic thump and haunting synth line about breaking out of a bad relationship. She declares determinedly in English on the chorus: “I need an extrication/I need to extricate myself away from the pain.”
The track also features a guest turn by Taiwanese rapper Miss Ko and it all comes together nicely.
Quek switches effortlessly between English and Mandarin, though the wholly English ballads End To Ribbons and Your Name are not her most compelling work here.
Head instead for the pleasures of ballad Solo Bliss, which touches on the fleetingness of happiness: “This solo bliss, can only understand by listening with eyes shut/Even if everything’s not mine, I won’t beg anymore.”
The album feels too ballad-heavy though, and more could have been done with the music arrangements, such as for Chimera, which features an ear-catching electronica intro.
What keeps one from quickly extricating oneself from the album is her consistently compelling singing.
(ST)
Shio Quek
A crop of up-and-comers is injecting the Malaysian music scene with much-needed new blood.
Duo FS (Fuying & Sam) have been scaling the charts with radio-friendly tracks such as It Should Be Better For Us To Break Up, sounding like an updated version of Wu Yin Liang Pin. Meanwhile, Shio Quek is a singer-songwriter in the vein of, say, Penny Tai, and is in fact signed to the latter’s agency.
Sporting a head of pink hair on the album cover, Quek is clearly no shrinking violet.
Opening track Extrication is an atmospheric slice of minimalist electronica with a softly hypnotic thump and haunting synth line about breaking out of a bad relationship. She declares determinedly in English on the chorus: “I need an extrication/I need to extricate myself away from the pain.”
The track also features a guest turn by Taiwanese rapper Miss Ko and it all comes together nicely.
Quek switches effortlessly between English and Mandarin, though the wholly English ballads End To Ribbons and Your Name are not her most compelling work here.
Head instead for the pleasures of ballad Solo Bliss, which touches on the fleetingness of happiness: “This solo bliss, can only understand by listening with eyes shut/Even if everything’s not mine, I won’t beg anymore.”
The album feels too ballad-heavy though, and more could have been done with the music arrangements, such as for Chimera, which features an ear-catching electronica intro.
What keeps one from quickly extricating oneself from the album is her consistently compelling singing.
(ST)
Let Me Eat Your Pancreas
Sho Tsukikawa
The story: Popular high-school student Sakura Yamauchi (Minami Hamabe) is dying as her pancreas is failing. Her unnamed geeky librarian classmate (Takumi Kitamura) stumbles upon her diary and learns her secret. As she draws him out of his shell, he helps her to fulfil her bucket-list wishes. Based on the 2015 novel of the same name by Yoru Sumino.
Never mind its fantasy horror title, Let Me Eat Your Pancreas is actually an old-fashioned tearjerker.
There is a burgeoning romance and a girl with a terminal disease who is outwardly cheerful and optimistic. One would not know that she is seriously ill just by looking at her.
Hamabe brings a sunny chirpiness and a touching vulnerability to the role of a young girl confronting her mortality. Her character, Sakura, is not made out to be a saint as she is curious about sex. However, her attempts at seduction are valiantly resisted, sometimes to almost comic effect, by Kitamura’s character, who remains unnamed throughout the film.
The growing friendship with her classmate seems unlikely, given that they are on opposite ends of the popularity spectrum, but as she says to him: “You’re the only one who can keep my life normal.”
Kitamura, a member of Japanese pop-rock band Dish, gives a sensitive performance as his restrained character slowly opens up. It also makes his breakdown late in the movie that much more moving.
Director Sho Tsukikawa (The 100th Love With You, 2017) is deft with the emotional scenes, letting them land with an impact that stings.
He overdoes it a bit with the soft focus and light-filled scenes, although the shots featuring cherry blossoms in full bloom are admittedly gorgeous.
The movie also jumps forward 12 years, a period that is not covered in the book. It shows the impact Sakura has had on the male protagonist (now played by Shun Oguri), as he was nudged to become a teacher at their school because of something she said; and on her best friend, Kyoko (adult version played by Keiko Kitagawa), who was puzzled by and jealous of their closeness.
The memory of her still burns bright for them.
(ST)
Sho Tsukikawa
The story: Popular high-school student Sakura Yamauchi (Minami Hamabe) is dying as her pancreas is failing. Her unnamed geeky librarian classmate (Takumi Kitamura) stumbles upon her diary and learns her secret. As she draws him out of his shell, he helps her to fulfil her bucket-list wishes. Based on the 2015 novel of the same name by Yoru Sumino.
Never mind its fantasy horror title, Let Me Eat Your Pancreas is actually an old-fashioned tearjerker.
There is a burgeoning romance and a girl with a terminal disease who is outwardly cheerful and optimistic. One would not know that she is seriously ill just by looking at her.
Hamabe brings a sunny chirpiness and a touching vulnerability to the role of a young girl confronting her mortality. Her character, Sakura, is not made out to be a saint as she is curious about sex. However, her attempts at seduction are valiantly resisted, sometimes to almost comic effect, by Kitamura’s character, who remains unnamed throughout the film.
The growing friendship with her classmate seems unlikely, given that they are on opposite ends of the popularity spectrum, but as she says to him: “You’re the only one who can keep my life normal.”
Kitamura, a member of Japanese pop-rock band Dish, gives a sensitive performance as his restrained character slowly opens up. It also makes his breakdown late in the movie that much more moving.
Director Sho Tsukikawa (The 100th Love With You, 2017) is deft with the emotional scenes, letting them land with an impact that stings.
He overdoes it a bit with the soft focus and light-filled scenes, although the shots featuring cherry blossoms in full bloom are admittedly gorgeous.
The movie also jumps forward 12 years, a period that is not covered in the book. It shows the impact Sakura has had on the male protagonist (now played by Shun Oguri), as he was nudged to become a teacher at their school because of something she said; and on her best friend, Kyoko (adult version played by Keiko Kitagawa), who was puzzled by and jealous of their closeness.
The memory of her still burns bright for them.
(ST)
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