Fu zi

I, and probably most Malaysians (and possibly South-East Asians), was pleasantly surprised to find that this was in fact a "Malaysian" movie made by a mainly HK cast and crew. The award for best screenplay was well-deserved for its authentically-researched "Malaysian" script and setting. And the fact it won awards and critical acclaim in HK movie industry showed that HK did not hold the "purist" attitudes that mainland China and other regional movie industries have.

Yes, I'm talking about the mainly Cantonese dialogue. Many Malaysian ethnic-Chinese are native Cantonese speakers, but the way they incorporated various Malay and other words/ accents into their speech is just as "notorious" as the way HK Chinese incorporated various English and other words/ accents into their speech. And just like mainstream Chinese cinema audience did a double-take when they heard a mish-mash of Mandarin accents in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", I was frequently jolted back into Malaysia by the mish-mash of Cantonese accents.

But apart from the dialogue, it also gets alternative/ art cinema credit for its naturalistic style of filming-- almost the opposite of Hollywood's so-called "realism" with "balanced/ well-made" characters/ plots/ themes/ etc. Because watching a family/relationship disintegrate is very much like watching a train-wreck in super-slow motion, with most of its sleeping passengers slowly waking up. If you have been cursing the father throughout the whole movie, the final scene with the son is especially heart-breaking.

Except for the intrusive music which felt like a none too subtle attempt to evoke the sought-after emotion, this was a passable tear-jerker with a bit of sex and comedy. The music was particularly jarring because the solo piano was so much more foreground rather than background, and the distinctly European sound clashed with the tropical Southeast Asian visuals on the screen. To my Western tuned ear, the lack of strings kept the tears, which were yearning to be released, from emerging.

The "feel" of the picture was very Malaysian even though the story revolved around mostly ethnic Chinese characters. The interior and exterior shots as well as the scenes showing dining/food added to the "flavor" of the film. (Please, forgive the pun.)

Worth seeing? Maybe for a rainy afternoon or a soap opera addict. It is a tad too long and could easily be pared another 30min. I can hardly imagine watching the original version - still, I know people watching a continuing soap opera after 20yrs.

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.

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.