Zach Campbell

It's less visceral than the only other Tsai film I've seen ("Vive L'amour"), but the idea of doorways (holes) into others' emotions and existences is vividly portrayed here, as Tsai sets up long shot after long shot, usually with long takes, suggesting a sense of alienation in Taipei. The musical interludes, inspired by Grace Chang, are perplexing but welcome mile-markers that add new dimensions to the slowly evolving relationship between the young man upstairs and the woman downstairs. It's not necessarily an easy film to watch (although it's not heavy-handed by any means), so I'd warn any casual viewers who are looking for some "indie" entertainment (like Tarantino or Guy Ritchie). But if you'd like to know something about isolation among city-dwellers in Taiwan, and something more universal about city alienation and romantic yearning, then watch this film immediately.

This is the only one of Hou Hsiao-hsien's films I caught at a retrospective of his work, and it's a tragedy because this film is so incredibly good. Hou's rigorous formal approach (highly geometrical framing, repetitive shots along axes, distinctive use of lived-in colors) provides a framework for the film to operate within its own world. Whereas Coppola's "Godfather" goes this way and that, without a significant coherence, visually or rhythmically, "City of Sadness" feels like an elegy to Taiwan and the family (in much the same way that "Underground" is an ode to what was once Yugoslavia). At times funny, sorrowful, and invigorating, I suppose that what makes this film so special is that it refuses to operate in "big moments" and focuses, like Ozu (who Hou is often compared to) on the little events that make life what it really is.

The only other movie I know that is as profound and beautiful and challenging as this is Tarkovsky's "Stalker." But "Playtime" may prove to be a better, more accessible example of what films can do. Tati so radically deconstructs space and depth within a film that it is almost unrecognisable: Spielberg doesn't have this level of craftsmanship, and not even Kubrick ever did. Virtually dialogue-free and spryly paced, "Playtime" works on nearly any possible level.

It can be seen as simply a superficial comedy, and as that, it succeeds because it is, well, very funny. (Modern technology is the golden cow that Tati playfully cuts down to size.) On the opposite end of the spectrum, however, is a work that stands the art of film on its head, commenting wryly on the nature of human beings, culminating to a party in a restaurant that gets completely out of hand. It's so beautiful.

Words really don't do justice to this movie. One last thing: The big screen is the ideal medium to see this film; that's true of every film, but this one more than most others. Unfortunately, I haven't had this privelege, and if you don't either, rent it anyway. It's too good to be missed.