Rebeldes del dios Neón

A cool exploration of youth culture, disillusionment, and identity formation in this fascinating period study of Taiwan in the 90s. The narrative has a slow burn to it that adds a feeling of realism. The acting is nuanced, and the characters are mostly well written, showing many layers of personality as the drama unfolds. The movie delves into the urban streets, showing intergenerational relations, motorcycles, and arcade shops. I think the movie's attempt to capture the alienation, loneliness and spectacle of the nineties was subtle yet compelling. The soundtrack is also quite nice and very catchy. However, the movie's ending was a bit disappointing, however, and left me feeling unfulfilled. I couldn't help but feeling like there was something missing at the end there.

On a more obvious level of multiple layers, a crucial, cultural point of significance seems lost in translation. As Rebels of the neon god comprise the sense of urban alienation, tradition and cultural adaptation, secularization, the decaying city and loss of identity, the original title translates literally Teenage Nezha. And as implied by his frustrated mother, the main character of Hsiao Kang bares resembling "qualities" to that of the rebel god, born into a human family and in constant opposition. While most reincarnations of Nezha grow additional limbs for the purpose of eradicating their father, Hsiao's idle hands become the playground for the prankster god. Sparked by an act of force, the two main plots of the film intertwine, and are further fueled by the returning violence. After their encounter in the arcade, Hsiao can be seen playing the same shoot-em-up as the one Ah Tze played while sitting next to him, symbolizing a change in character and the unraveling of the revenge. The directors returning use of water as ever-present, controlling element of nature, suppressing spaces of confined and human, primal behavior sets up a hierarchy of command in the metropolitan chaos of Taipei.

Young disaffected people in Taipei—two friends steal a lot of coins from telephones and other things. They also play a lot of videogames, and ride motorbikes and drink. One of them lives in an apartment that is always inexplicably flooded. A pretty girl, Ah Kuei (Yu-Wen Wang) takes up with one of them, and there is engagement and disengagement and anomie and sadness, though at the end they don't seem to give up on each other. Another boy drops out of school and follows the crooks, and sabotages a motorcycle, and other such things—his father drives a taxi, and his mother worries because she's been told he's a reincarnation of the god Norcha. The city itself is incredibly busy, cars and motorcycles and crowds everywhere. There's a lot of rain in this movie, too. It's a melancholy scene

Tsai Ming-Liang doesn't make movies per se. He takes slices out of people's lives and puts them up on the screen for people to see.

This movie is an example of this style of film-making seen through the eyes of a group of teens in the city.

The meaning of the movie is open to discussion. My take is that the dark tone of this movie reflects the dark tone of its characters lives. For them Taipei is the beginning and the end. Where else have they ever seen, where else would they go? No careers, no connections, no future, no love, no hope. Nothing but work, study, drinking, failed relationships and ennui.

I don't share Tsai's bleak appraisal of the city. It is every bit as bad and grungy as he paints it (I _lived_ in the apartment with sandals floating across the floor!) but it is also much brighter, much better, and much more hopeful at the same time.

The most powerful thing about this movie is the extent to which it draws you in. I first saw this at the Seattle film festival. I was pulled in to the movie so completely I expected to smell Chinese sausages and _chou dofu_ when I left the theatre.

In his first film, international "arty" director Tsai Ming-liang tells what is apparently, for him, a fairly accessible tale about two fake thugs, the sometimes-girlfriend of one of them, and a younger teenager who has a strange preoccupation with the three of them. He does so largely with long, one-take, unmoving shots (when the action moves into the background, the camera usually doesn't follow). It's not always easy to understand the relationship between these various characters, which is just as well, as it is pretty languid and obscure in general; teasing out the nuances of these relationships was my main source of interest while watching this film. Overall, it seems to be worth a try, but not worth a recommendation. I got a generally positive impression from it (meaning that it didn't just totally irritate me), but it didn't provoke a strong visceral aesthetic appreciation (that's a little paradoxical I guess) that I get from my favorite "art films." I'm tempted to watch one of Tsai's later, "better-known" (relatively speaking) films, but I'm not sure that I'm that enamored with his visual style or his style of storytelling (as opposed to, say, that of Wong Kar-Wai).