Poussières dans le vent

One of the earliest pleasures of silent cinema was the "phantom ride," where the audience floated along railway tracks, watching the world roll by. Hou begins Dust in the Wind with just such a journey, his camera gliding through a lush green valley. It's a gesture of trust, or perhaps a quiet bargain: this ride is buying our patience for a story about ordinary, cloud-capped lives. That kind of story is a hard sell without Ozu-level virtuosity (which, thankfully, Hou possesses). His characters, though, are grittier, more sweary, and less genteel than Ozu-san's.

We are ushered into this world, generally speaking, by the high hopes of our parents: hopes for their children to do well at school, to be happy, to succeed, to be extraordinary, and to find love. We mostly disappoint them. Our fates are, more often than not, to be "dust in the wind," as per the movie's title. Yet whatever happens, I'd like to think we retain some memory of hope's flavour, and of the occasional oasis-under-the-stars moment.

Wan is often seen studying, his head buried in books that promise a way out. But no matter how hard he stares, they fail to illuminate him. The path they suggest feels like a dead end. And love, too-what we hoped might rescue or complete us-can become the very dust that hides the rose, to borrow from Clyde Otis and Dinah Washington. The film does give us those brief moments of light, though, such as when friends gather to drink beer and say goodbye to one of their own, drafted into the military.

The story follows Wan and Huen, who grow up in a depressed mining town in the coastal hills. Unbelievably, this is Juifen, the same town that later became a photo-op deluxe for the Instagram set, thanks in part to Hou's City of Sadness. Wan and Huen are two halves of a Platonic whole, bonded from early childhood, and they stabilize one another as they navigate the trials of early adulthood, trying to build lives in Taipei. Love simply means being soothed by the other's presence. Wan and Huen, seated on opposite sides of the barred windows of a tailor's shop, move us not through grand gestures or declarations, but through their quiet, orbital return to each other.

At the end of the film, Wan's grandfather, in a symptom of dementia, repeats three times that sweet potatoes are harder to cultivate than ginseng. We know that quality of life has improved with each generation, but a kind of metronomic falling short of expectations persists. The repetition of the phrase captures this: the effort to grow something meaningful, and the recurring disappointment in the yield.

In this way, the film also refers to Taiwan itself-famously shaped like a sweet potato-struggling through the growing pains of Japanese occupation, followed by the heart-rending separation of destinies from the mainland.

Dust in the Wind can be bitter, but it never strays from relatability. Like the characters in the film, most people who track this down are looking, quietly and patiently, for solace in the cinema.

I love Asian movies quite a lot and for some reason "Dust in the Wind" (aka "Liàn liàn fengchén") from 1986 had managed to elude me all the way up to 2019. When I was given the chance to sit down and watch this movie, I of course jumped at the chance.

Turns out that this Taiwanese movie was a major slow paced and prolonged movie with zero appeal to me. Still, I managed to sit through almost 72 minutes of the entire 109 minutes the movie runs for. I kept watching with the hope that the movie would pick up pace and that the storyline and/or characters would eventually start to have any appeal.

It just never happened...

The storyline in "Dust in the Wind" was simplistic to the point where it lost all of its appeal. It is about young people leaving their provincial home villages behind and head to industrious Tai Pei to work. And then there was some adolescence elements thrown into the formula as well. But it just wasn't enough to make a watchable, enjoyable or entertaining movie. I must admit that I have no idea what writers T'ien-wen Chu and Nien-Jen Wu were trying to accomplish with "Dust in the Wind".

The characters in the movie were essentially as pointless as the storyline. They had no personalities and milled about like battery-operated drones with poor interactions and equally poor dialogue randomly thrown about.

If you have problems falling asleep one evening and have "Dust in the Wind" within arms reach, put it on, because you might overcome your sleep problem and be soundly asleep within a short while. This was a massive swing and a miss of a movie. And I have zero interest in returning to watch the rest of the movie, because I imagine it is going to be every bit as pointless and trivial as the 72 minutes of prolonged torture I already watched was.

When it comes to writing about a specific film I stutter, I'm lost. But don't misunderstand me, I know enough of movies to say this is a work of art that will prevail thorough time as the greatest novels do. I believe Hou is up there with Tarkovsky, Bresson, Ozu, Pasolini, Dreyer, Sokurov, Fellini, Herzog, Paradjanov and others. I mention them so as to locate a few of you readers who may have heard little of Hou.

I think its better not to talk about the movie itself, one shall see it with new eyes. It is something new, this time cinema works for reality to transform it to beauty, that's the real meaning of art. It may seem simple at times, and yes it is, for time at present seems always simple, but it also accumulates the most complex structure of time. One can feel how the banality of everyday slowly fixates itself in eternity, one can see the inevitable, the beauty in the every small detail. Hou justifies life in a century that has lost itself and that sees only its own shadow. Humanity in its true form, going around like lost and innocent children, and there's no evil. And every second in Hou's work makes life more beautiful.

I've talked to a few people who have seen his movies, I can't guarantee the same experience, but what I've seen is there if you can see it in yourself.

Dust in the Wind is a remarkable film, and one which will, no doubt, reward multiple viewings. Like most of the films of Hou Hsiao Hsien, viewers will be divided into two, sharply opposed camps.

The main characters in the film are two high-school students. The first is Wan, who - seeing his village as a dead-end career-wise, decides to leave their home town to go to Taipei to find work, intending to complete his education via night-school. His girlfriend Huen also leaves for Taipei after graduation. The other personages are family members, employers, friends and co-workers.

The story presented consists of a number of vignettes in typical Hou fashion, with stationary camera and naturalistic performances. Glimpses are given of their occupations, their moments together and their times apart. Though varying from the very funny to the emotionally raw, they have a cumulative effect, resonating with a reality that is not idealised, and is yet still filled with moments of sublime grace, somehow existing with situations of despair, misery, boredom and loss. There is little music, only a solitary guitar used to punctuate scenes, almost like a musical interlude, often combined with stunning scenery.

Apart from the immediate plot, something can also be glimpsed of the attitudes of the rural, native Taiwanese towards the city and the higher classes, as well as to the vicissitudes of life in general. On a whole the film seems imbued with the melancholy, fatalistic philosophy indicated by its title.

A worthy member of Hou's inimitable body of films, 'Dust in the Wind' was touching and memorable, though with an absence of schmaltz. It is a film I hope to revisit soon. As for recommendations, I'm not sure that it will be everyone's 'cup of tea'. Some will find many of its aspects, in particular its detachedness, quite alienating. Certainly those already familiar with Hou, or fans of Taiwanese cinema in general, will want to see it. Those who like Ozu, Bresson or Tarkovsky may find it worthwhile also. There is the same naturalistic feel, understated acting and long takes. But it is also very much the work of an original auteur who is honing his craft and producing unique, personal films.

Dust In The Wind is a 1986 Taiwanese art house drama about two adolescents who decide that they do not want to stay in their home village in order to go to junior high school and instead they make the decision to get a train to Taipei in order to look for work.

And that is basically what the film is about.

For an hour and fifty two minutes the viewer is treated to scene after scene of boring and pointless dialogue and different characters lighting up and smoking a cigarette.

The only reason I can recommend watching this film is if you are suffering from a lack of sleep as this boring film will have you drifting off to the land of nod in no time.