Fu zi

This movie is not a social criticism, not a social realism, not a naturalism, not about family value or any moral lessons concerning raising a child or being a parent. The movie says one thing: even the biological father-son relationship is contingent and fragile. The love and bond between the father and the son cannot hold the relationship when it is impossible or too painful for them to continue the relationship. The father, mother and the son love each other, but apparently it is the best for them to go separate ways. In the end they all have their own happy life (maybe with some regrets)and their own (new) families. Father-son relation is just like relation between two lovers. If it cannot work out, it would be better just to break up and start anew. That is a very potent (unnerving for some) message of this movie. It is about modern relationship. The whole movie comes down to the surprised ending, which transforms your perspective and gives this movie a different light.

In a surprising twist of linguistics, the English name for Patrick Tam's latest carries a much deeper sense of atmosphere and tragedy than the simple Chinese title, translated more or less as "father". Well, a formal expression of the concept "father", but quite obvious either way.

And if one thing it isn't, that's obvious, for Exile serves as an adept reminder that even the most straightforward of stories may require multiple runs to fully appreciate.

Tam did items like Love Massacre in the past, and hasn't been much of a prolific artist in almost twenty years. This new release, rumored and talked about for over two , gives the director a respectable shot at a comeback, even though it probably isn't what he was going for, nor is it, frankly, the most astounding, earth-shattering drama to ever grace the silver screen.

But it is a sensible, intriguing affair, with quite excellent cinematography, a goodie bag's worth of various ingredients and an at least seldom-visited location setting.

Exile further depicts lean pop star Aaron Kwok in a superb melodramatic turn which has one regularly thinking to themselves, "now that's acting". Just for that kind of pondering about him, Exile surely has merit.

It further puts forth Charlie Yeung (Seven Swords, New Police Story) as Kwok's troubled life partner, with the couple, A Sheng and Lin, entering the stage as two Cantonese speakers (presumably from HK although that much is never revealed) in Malaysia. Kwok's character works as a cook in a restaurant, while Yeung depicts a homemaker, taking care of son Boy (Gouw Ian Iskandar). Something's amiss from the get go as Lin tries to get away from an abusive, yet strangely loving, relationship with her significant other, all superimposed over landscapes Tam and crew make clear are quite homey and comfortable.

For a minute there Exile veers close to the wave of cinematic psychedelia that came out of East Asia (and mainland China in particular) over the late 90's and early 2000's, with a flickering mood of non-place and slow, thoughtful unfolding of events to challenge those who didn't get enough sleep the night before.

However, this makes room for a more realistic mindset quite early. Lin indeed makes her escape, leaving Sheng and Boy to fend for themselves as we slowly witness them deteriorate further toward destitution in a pretty but cruel realm where, despite being surrounded by others, they are inevitably alone. Kwok does his job with flying colors, convincing us throughout that he's this lonely, well-meaning character that's so tragic for simply being completely unfit for the world in which we live. No matter what the guy does he can't get a break, from his crumbling family to bad debts that won't go away.

Everyone else doesn't seriously measure up to Aaron, with Yeung doing her best but ultimately failing to impress. She's OK, yet we like her a lot better in urban, rather than urbane, roles. Some supporting love comes via Qin Hailu (Durian Durian and the masterful Chicken Poets) as Lin's KTV lounge friend and boss. What ruins her appearance in Exile is the horrible Cantonese dub they slapped over her Putonghua lines, hence a reduction to a stand-in sideshow.

Our beloved Kelly Lin has returned at long last from her own mini exile, looking so different and mature we barely recognized the graceful lady. Sadly none of the bubbly Martial Angels stuff from back in the day here. She plays a prostitute granting Sheng temporary relief and haunting memories at the same time. And although appropriately emotional and chilling while engaged with him, Kelly's persona also ends up in a dead end much like most everyone in the film, leaving Aaron to carry it all himself.

Even the kid, Boy (Iskandar) doesn't pack too much punch despite showing promise. We wish him every success in the future, but feel there was more that could have been done with his role. As it stands, you feel for him in the few occasions where he starts to (quite genuinely) cry, yet not a lot beyond.

Exile, overall, can be touching at times and certainly there's those that'll find it very moving. It doesn't overwhelm with sheer sentiment, though, leaving its assets clear: firstly, there's Aaron in a prize appearance. Then, the mesmerizing Malaysian landscapes. Finally, that English title just compels one to reflect on what it all means. Taken in that context, After This Our Exile thrusts itself forward, defying a seemingly almost banal story and non-descript characters. Additionally, Tam makes sure to incorporate saucy adult elements like love scenes (not overdone) and language. In fact, more F-bombs here than in any other HK film we can recall recently.

This humanity is definitely a driving force, but not enough for grand success. Ergo, after all this isn't our latest classic, but it sure should be on your winter viewing list.

As eagerly awaited as a new Terence Malick film, After This Our Exile, the latest work by idiosyncratic Hong Kong director Patrick Tam more than lives up to expectations. Known as a teacher of Wong-Kar-wai, Tam's first feature in seventeen years is a compelling and moving film about the complex interaction between an irresponsible father and his loyal and devoted son who would do anything for him, even steal. Winner of major Hong Kong awards as well as Taiwan's Golden Horse Award for Best Picture, Best Actor, and Best Supporting Actor, the film carries on the gritty tradition of the Hong Kong New Wave of the 70s and 80s while defying patriarchal genre conventions and probing greater emotional depths than much of the mainstream cinema of the time.

Set in Malaysia but spoken in Cantonese, the film uses flashbacks, crosscutting, and ellipsis to tell a riveting and often-melodramatic story. After Lee Yuk-lin (Charlie Yeung) walks out on her abusive husband Chow Cheung-sheng, (Aaron Kwok), a compulsive gambler, their nine-year old son Boy (Gouw Ian Iskandar) runs to his father's place of work to tell him of her escape. The overwrought Sheng drags Lin home and physically and verbally abuses her, but eventually shows his loving, almost childlike side and they end up having sex.

After taking Boy on a cruise, Sheng returns to discover than Lin has left again, this time with another man, and father and son are left to struggle alone. Sheng has lost his job, owes gambling debts, and Boy is without the money to pay the bus driver to go to school. Forced to move to a seedy small town hotel, Sheng is driven to pimping a girl (Kelly Lin) to make money but their life soon begin to spiral further downward. Sheng teaches Boy to sneak into people's home to steal jewelry, but the child is caught and sent to a detention center in a sequence that leads to a startling and unexpected conclusion.

While After This Our Exile sounds depressing and there are some truly heartbreaking moments, the film has touches of kindness and humanity that are enhanced by the caliber of the acting and the rich cinematography of Ping Bin-lee. Iskandar, also known as Ng King-to, is sympathetic and moving as the appealing but not cloying child who loves his dad but is slow to realize how he is guiding him into self-destructive behavior. Pop singer Aaron Kwok gives a masterfully nuanced performance as the deadbeat husband who manages to evoke sympathy as a suffering human being in spite of his failings. We know that Sheng is doing what he does because he loves his son, never grasping the extent to which he has endangered the boy until a furious coda suggests that pain heals very slowly and sometimes not at all.

Like some others who have reviewed the movie, I am puzzled as to why this movie managed to win the awards it did -- except for the best supporting actor award going to the kid playing the "Boy" in the movie. He totally carried the movie -- he's really a major reason why I could sit through the 160 mins of the director's cut version of the movie.

Don't get me wrong. The movie isn't bad, but just that it's really not that good. A few pleasant surprises, besides the fabulous performance by the kid. Despite that his character is essentially a clichéd stereotype, Kwok turned out to be a much better actor than he is a singer. Also, several scenes are funny and the director's humor showed.

But the movie severely suffers from empty script and indulgent direction. The movie's character and plot developments are too light to substantiate the 3-hour duration (or, I believe, even the 2.5-hour duration of the theatre's cut). And the movie drags on and on. Sometimes it's as if the director isn't confident that the messages he intends for the audience would get through, and so he keeps re-sending them, and sometimes in an overly melodramatic way.

Another thing worth mentioning is the director (Tam) seems heavily influenced by Kar-Wai Wong. It's especially evident in the setup where the father gets into an affair with his neighbor in the hotel (reminiscent of "In the Mood for Love" and "2046"). But the movie would have benefited much if Tam's direction were crisper, subtler and more assured.

This story mostly revolves around a boy called, actually "boy" throughout the film. His parents are not happy, with his mom Lin trying to leave the son and his father (the boy's parents are not legally married) in the beginning of the film. Once she does, it is up to his father Sheng (well played by Aaron Kwok) to take care of the boy. He is a hopeless gambler, always in debt and they leave their town in China for a better chance at sustaining themselves. The film is straightforward in its telling, moving at a semi-slow pace. The film is also atmospheric at times, with the cinematography at times superb. The story in and of itself is not immediate, variations of it have been done before, but its well filmed. The reason for the grade not being higher is its lack of synergy with the characters. You may or may not care for them as the film progresses, but you don't relate to them. I suppose this is a slice of life in which the point may be that it's hard to rise above your station in life without making an honest attempt at change. That being said, this film reminds me somewhat of Wong Kar-Wai's films, it shares in those films a simple approach to a deceptively simple story. Its a good film, but not a masterpiece. It is, however, worth watching.