LaimingLuo

"Guonianhao", or Happy New Year, is the worst Chinese film I have ever seen in a cinema. Don't get me wrong, it is not the worst film ever made in this country. Every year, more than 80 percent of lousy films fail to reach the cinemas, and among those that do make it, most are kind enough to show some signs to tip off the discerning audience, for example, an inadequate actress who may have been born with a typical disability to control her facial muscles, a complacent director who has lost touch with the times, or simply an awkward title that betrays the filmmakers' vulgar taste. But "Guonianhao" is different. The title sounds just fine for a movie that was previously scheduled to premiere on the first day of the Year of Monkey. The popular phrase people use to greet each other at this time of year even evokes some warmth of a festive nature from the bottom of our hearts. The cast members look presentable. Skit actor Zhao Benshan, who has appeared on China Central Television's most watched New Year Gala on more than a dozen occasions, is a strong presence related to the festival and therefore should attract those who miss his acrimony. As for Mr. Gao Qunshu, though he may not be my favorite film director, many of my respectful colleagues admire his work telling twisty detective stories on the small screen, and not to mention his weird charisma that seems to have overwhelmed many a seasoned showbiz reporter in my office. All evidence suggests "Guoniaohao" may possess the potential to dominate the box office during the Chinese New Year, and that's why I was completedly taken by surprise. Imagine yourself taking a joyful ride on the back of a lovely steed on a sunny afternoon in the countryside, and suddenly a nasty spider web lands on your face. Your natural response is to get off the horse and rid your face of the ugly critter and its sticky production, but unfortunately the startled horse just keeps galloping on and on into an unchartered territory. That's what happened in my first 15 minutes of "Guonianhao," yet I persisted, against my better judgment, just so to give the film a fair assessment. So now, several days after the traumatic experience, I've calmed down and risen above my initial shock and ensuing anger to tell you about the sin that is "Guonianhao." Impatient viewers may find the cinematography insufficient and the editing sloppy, but further analysis reveals a general lack of coordination or preparation in the filming process. When a director has no idea what to shoot, the editor will have problem plowing through the vast amount of raw materials to form a decent storyline. So every now and then you see the story jumping from Point A to C, and while you wonder about Point B, the film teleports you to Point F. But a scattered narrative with no regard for consistency is the least of the film's many evils. With such meager input of creativity and effort, how do the filmmakers make sure the aggregate of video clips last long enough to count as a movie? Well, they do so by adding bizarre and meaningless episodes. A typical example is a scene where an old man meets a chicken vendor who fancies herself an opera singer. I guess the point is to introduce some humorous flavor while highlighting the lonesome state of the old man, but the attempt landed neither here nor there, all it achieved was making me wonder if I was peeping into the minds of a mental patient. Such surreal and irrelevant episodes abound in the entire film and are often executed by semi-celebrities from China's micro-blogging website Weibo. In the age where ordinary smart phone users have all turned to WeChat and active users of Weibo mostly consist of professionals who major in publicity stunts, Mr. Gao Qunshu's obsession with the website is admirable. I remember a few years ago when he made "Beijing Blues", another inadequate film with a non-story, he also invited many of his best buddies on Weibo to assume different roles in the story. So I...

Despite competition from more than a dozen Chinese and foreign challengers, Star Wars Episode Seven is still going strong after more than two weeks of hegemony in the Chinese market. Director J. J. Abrams said the key for the film was to return to the roots of the first Star Wars film and be based more on emotion than explanation. That pretty much sums up the most defining characteristics of the film. As the grand re-entry of the epic space opera unfolds on an IMAX screen, I was stunned not so much by the enhanced spectacle as by its similarity to previous Star Wars films. Harrison Ford, Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill and Peter Mayhew have each come back to reprise their roles in the new episode, even the smuggler’s ship Millennium Falcon is brought back from a scrap yard to take the characters on yet another quest across the universe. Their presence may appeal to loyal fans of the series, but they no longer carry the whole story forward. That task now rests on a group of younger actors and actresses including Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Adam Driver and Oscar Isaac, who are gathered to breathe new life into this decades-old franchise. That much they did, but they did it while duplicating the acting styles of their predecessors. The stiff way in which they pose and gesticulate before the camera is almost identical to the ways of Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher. This kind of makes you wonder whether teachers of acting classes have updated their syllabus since the 1970s. And the return-to-the-roots scheme continues in the storyline. Remember the Death Star? It is back in “The Force Awakens”, in a much bigger size and with heavier fire power capable of wiping out an entire galaxy at one shot. And guess what happens to this ultimate, ultimate weapon in Episode Seven? It is destroyed by a single X-wing fighter, in the same manner in which Luke Skywalker blew up the First Death Star. And please don’t get me started on the “emotion over explanation” explanation. Of course there is some kind of Greek opera involved when Han Solo confronts his renegade son in Kylo Ren, but that is only a fraction of the whole story and not enough to make up for the lack of common sense for the rest of the film. This is a universe where even small fighter jets possess hyperspace capability, somehow the filmmakers want us to believe our heroes can hack into a complex weapon system the size of a planet by simply pulling and mismatching some fuses. And to think the fate of the universe hinges on the balance of power among people who are strong with the force is preposterous at best. The supernatural concept of “The Force” is most awkward in a fictional world of highly advanced technologies. A world where galaxies can be annihilated in a matter of seconds has no place for knights wielding flashy light-sabers. That’s the biggest loophole in the Star Wars series that has survived in the re-entry, and according to title, it is here to stay for the rest of the serial reboot.

In 2015, China&`&s movie industry witnessed progress in almost every aspect of filmmaking. As infrastructure building continued to expand, new box office records were cropping up by the month. The changes in the moviegoing demographic impacted on the genres of films rolling off the production line. Stories that appeal to a wider range of audience in smaller cities saw significant increase in numbers. In the year 2016, the same pattern will most likely continue. Among the movies that have already booked a release date, a large proportion of them fall into the comedy category. At least five will hit Chinese cinemas in the latter half of January alone, but none seems to possess the necessary firepower to trigger a box office explosion. The most promising candidate, according to information available so far, is likely to debut on April 1st in the form of "Chongqing Hot Pot," starring Chen Kun and Bai Baihe. Chen and Bai have each appeared in a movie with more than a billion yuan income in the year 2015, this year they rally under Yang Qing, producer of a previous box office record-holder "Lost in Thailand," to form the formula for an explosion in the market. A slight deviation from the established pattern is, the first day of the lunar new year now becomes a rather coveted spot. Traditionally people have thought of this time of year as an occasion for family reunions and friendly visits, but since 2014 the cinemas have made it into their itineraries. This probably has something to do with young migrant office workers patronizing newly built local cinemas in their hometowns. Their enthusiasm for entertainment in places of limited choices led to cordial reception for many mediocre films that could have remained obscure in a different time. Anyway, today only the most competitive movies occupy the privileged time slots during the Spring Festival, and these include "Mermaid" by Stephen Chow, "The Monkey King 2" by Cheang Pou-Soi, "From Vegas to Macau" by Wang Jing and "Guonianhao" or "Happy New Year" by Gao Qunshu. Stephen Chow is almost a god-fatherly figure among China&`&s young movie fans, his unique humorous style and keen sense of observation provide an amusing perspective in the analysis of humanity, while his fame has guaranteed ample resources at his command in the process of filmmaking. "Mermaid" could be a compelling choice for viewers during the festival, but nonetheless they need to tune down their expectation a bit. Since Mr. Chow has refrained from appearing in his own films, he has not found a worthy substitute actor that can quite imitate his demeanor and style in front of the camera. Two years ago, when director Cheang Pou-Soi promoted "The Monkey King: Havoc in the Heavenly Kingdom," he highlighted the ground-breaking special effects. But in fact the level of special effects did not come close to the level of his boasting. Now, two years have transpired, the filmmakers are once again stressing the special effects in the sequel. I certainly hope they live up to their promise this time, but hoping is all I can do about this one. Wang Jing&`&s "From Vegas to Macau" is also a sequel, according to Mr. Wang&`&s previous track record and the performance of two prequels, there may not be any surprises, pleasant or unpleasant. The size of this film&`&s income will most likely be proportionate to the size of total box office income during the festival season. Director Gao Qunshu has always been quite proficient at speculating what the viewers want, but his recent outings indicate he may not be as proficient at delivering it. This year he joins hands with popular skit actor Zhao Benshan in "Guonianhao". The latter has repeatedly appeared on China Central Television&`&s New Year Gala, China&`&s most watched show in the past couple of decades. So Zhao is a strong presence associated with the New Year and therefore may attract people who still bother to watch the gala. By tapping into people&`&s strong feelings about...

Director Feng Xiaogang is known as much for his quick temper as for the fluctuating popularity of his movies. But not many know of the ups and downs in his private life. In Guan Hu&`&s "Mr. Six," Feng takes on a role that shares much in common with himself in age and temperament, and that gig has won him a best actor title at China&`&s 52nd Golden Horse Awards. Mr. Feng plays an old street punk "Mr. Six" in his 50s who has considerable influence over his neighborhood in Beijing. While respecting the official laws and regulations, Mr. Six relies on a special set of rules to govern the underground society within his sphere of influence. Everything seems to work out just fine in his life, until his son gets into a dispute with a group of drag-racing youngsters who have deep pockets and powerful connections. Mr. Six&`&s insistence on solving the matter his own way leads to more complications, but nonetheless his predilection points to a period of time when people used to behave, interact, settle differences and seek justice according to social norms. Such unofficial way of keeping order was common in times of ineffective judiciary, or in an underground society where people had no affection for the righteous authority. In Guan Hu&`&s movie, Mr. Six tries to impose the old ways on a group of young people who have powerful parents in modern day China. What essentially is a gangster feud is deliberately played out as a clash between generations, or rather, a clash between the traditional and the modern-minded members of the society. Feng Xiaogang is very successful in his portrayal of an old man who bemoans the bygone of his glorious days and is reluctant to surrender his privileges in the modernization process. His performance is the highlight of the story. However, the profiling of the antagonists seems less straightforward. In order to beef up the dramatic effect, the storywriter at one point secretly replaces Mr. Six&`&s young opponents with their wealthy and powerful grown-up associates. That puts the rivalry in a different context: the old gangster leader Mr. Six, who has lived a rather successful life bullying others with brutal force, now finds himself on the receiving end of bullying by his rich and powerful contemporaries, who have risen to power by equally unsavory methods. This shift in the latter half of the film puts it in a rather awkward position. What could have been interpreted as a reflection on generation gap almost becomes a direct assault on the effectiveness of the country&`&s judiciary system. Fortunately, misunderstanding is averted when the director chose to be consistent with Mr. Six&`&s character and arranged a final showdown within legal boundaries. Guan Hu&`&s story is certainly impressive with all the authentic Beijing dialect and prevailing male hormone, but the ambiguity of the director&`&s message is still worth a few complaints. A colleague of mine said maybe I&`&ll be able to relate to it much better when I am old. True, when I reach a more mature age, I will be missing a lot of things: my teeth, my straight backbone, or the ability to walk, but make no mistake, I will not want to go back to a time when justice is upheld by the verdict of a gang leader, rather than the rule of law. I guess that&`&s the generation gap between people of my age and the contemporaries of Mr. Six.

China's movie market has been expanding for some time now. A year ago, people were feeling slightly regrettable when total annual box office income failed to pass the 30 billion yuan threshold. This year by December 3rd, a 40 billion yuan record has been set and China's home-made movies account for nearly 60% of the total. Above all, China's 3D fantasy adventure film "Monster Hunt" became the country's highest-grossing film in July, beating international box office powerhouse "Furious 7". In the year 2015, China's movie industry not only achieved gratifying income figures, they've also made progress in an all-around manner. First and foremost, infrastructure building continues to generate exciting results, bringing the total number of cinema screens in the country to somewhere near 31,000. Currently the overall attendance rate stays around 15%, but the surplus seats stand ready to accommodate box office explosions, which are happening on a more regular basis in recent years. Most of the new facilities are being built in smaller cities or townships, where a new cinema attracts more moviegoers on average than a new cineplex in downtown Beijing. The increase in their number is also tipping the balance in China's movie market. While previously the urban dwellers footed almost all the bills, now small town young adults are empowered to change the way movies are made in this country. A typical example is how youth-centric stories are giving way to comedies. Suddenly China's storywriters have waken up to the possibility that maybe in the small cities, not every young man has lost the love of his life when the girl immigrate to a foreign country, and not every woman can bask in the favor of her young, handsome billionaire of a boss - when that does happen it is usually a middle-aged man, short and rotund and married with kids. Petty sentiment and fake melancholy have no currency among the small city dwellers, who simply want to enjoy some hearty laugher after a day's hard work. For that reason, comedy is the safest of all genres in which filmmakers are willing to invest their resources. Actor-turned-director Xu Zheng, who has kept impeccable track records in both roles, staged an ambitious comeback in "Lost in Hong Kong," which made the list of Top 3 earners, despite fierce competition from another comedy film and this year's No. 5 earner "Goodbye Mr. Loser." The favor of small town young adults propelled more titles to make headlines which otherwise could have remained obscure among the hundreds of low-budget stories cobbled up by amateur filmmakers. Chief among them is "Wolf Warriors," directed by actor Wu Jing. Mr. Wu is a talented martial artist and has a face not half bad, somehow his career as an actor never seem to take off. His first film in the director's chair depicts a hunt for foreign spies and features note-worthy action sequences, but the film's undisguised demonstration of patriotism follows the narrative of the past century. The stylish young men loitering in Beijing's Sanlitun will frown upon it, but they couldn't stop the film from causing a moderately big bang in the market. The potential and appetite of small town young adults therefore appeared on the radar of Chinese filmmakers, who didn't bother to figure out what this sizable group of consumers want the most. Their standard approach is to build on something that has already stood the test. "Dior's Man" is a popular show inspired by Germany sketch comedy "Knallerfrauen" and is streamed exclusively on China's video portals. Despite content that some may consider vulgar, it is nonetheless a well executed and creative show. So when the same crew came up with a film project "Jian Bing Man," they rocked the market by grossing more than 1.1 billion yuan. The source of inspiration is not limited to video content. Best-selling cartoon novel "Go Away Mr. Tumor" about a cartoonist's fight against cancer has warmed many hearts over the years, now a movie of the...

2015 Chinese martial arts film "The Master" is the first big budget commercial film by writer and director Xu Haofeng, and also the first opportunity for the wider audience to have a taste of Xu's distinctive style. Xu's very first feature film met with lukewarm reception from the market back in 2012, and for that reason his second one never received wide-scale publicity. Although his stories have been adapted by famous film director Wong Kar Wai in "The Grand Master", and by Chen Kaige in "Daoshi Xiaoshan" or "Monk Comes Down the Mountain," neither of those has quite captured the apparently bizarre yet intrinsically straightforward logic that motivates the characters in his story. "The Master" will have a better chance of impressing the general public. Set in Tianjin in the Early 20th Century, the story follows a Guangdong master who seeks to expand the influence of his martial arts school in a heavily guarded territory. To achieve this, he can't just go ahead and challenge local schools, but instead has to spend three years training an apprentice to do the heavy-lifting. With the support of a local partner, his plan would have worked, if only they were the only players in the game. Most of Xu Haofeng's characters are obsessed with something. The Guangdong master starring Liao Fan (Black Coal, Thin Ice) is determined to propagate his school for the sake of his own late master. His disciple shows a strong attachment to his hometown Tianjin and is willing to die here instead of surviving elsewhere. The Tianjin local masters are keen on protecting their own territory and their rules. In a place where one's well-being hinges on the size of one's fists, everyone is after something, be it honor, fame, power or family. But within this seemingly diverse and chaotic reality, everyone is surprisingly simple-minded. The characters' decisions and actions are as swift as their weapons are sharp, leaving no room for Shakespearean Hamlet's struggles. This simplicity of life philosophy is what distinguishes Xu Haofeng's masters from the commoners under our modern skins. Unlike Chen Kaige who made a major misstep in casting, Xu Haofeng appears to have the best casting members at his disposal, bar a couple of insignificant roles of course. Having survived a two-month intensive training, actor Liao Fan is able to execute some efficient moves and complete stunning action scenes as per the director's requirement. The viperine demeanor in Jiang Wenli makes one shudder at the thought of even being her friend, much less her enemy. And actress Song Jia lends all her charm to make the unappealing destination of Tianjin all the more attractive. Thanks to the dedication of the actors and actresses, the quirky world of Xu Haofeng is now much easier to understand. The realistic fighting style of an authentic Xu Haofeng film seems a far cry from that of a Jet Li film, where the kungfu masters pose, swing and make believe to entertain the camera. "The Master" is different because other than martial arts per se it speaks of the end of an old world and its orders, and it is the people and their strong beliefs in this historical context that impress the most intelligent and responsive audience members.

别的且不说，连影片自带福利林珍娜的腿都没让人看够，就说这特写有多令人沮丧罢。 In 2011, Taiwan TV series "In Time with You" starring Ariel Lin and Berlin Chen was aired in Chinese mainland, it was a cheesy romantic drama, but the chicks loved it. December 2015, Ariel and Berlin team up again in a chick flick "Go Lala Go," many fans of the TV series visit the cinemas just to see the couple together again. Well, that and the fact that this may count as a sequel to a 2010 romantic comedy of the same name, are enough reasons to get the girls crazy. However I'm not sure they'll enjoy it in the same way they used to adore the TV series, because this awkward combination of workplace drama and romance lands in the middle of nowhere between the two. "Go Lala Go 2010" was based on a popular novel by a blogger who wrote about the challenges that a female employee has to overcome to climb up the company food chain. In an uncomfortably mundane manner, the novel enlightened many office workers on the subtlety and sophistication that they need to thrive in the job market. "Go Lala Go 2015", based on a sequel of the novel, is no longer a lesson on office politics: the focus has been switched to a career woman's struggles on the domestic front. Oh yes, our dear Lala, despite her moderate success in the workplace, has trouble getting her boyfriend to pop the question, and that also has negative impact on her work performance. But no need to worry, an opportunity soon presents itself for Lala to crack an opening in both her career and her romantic life. If I were in her shoes, I would laugh myself awake from this marvelous daydream, but our dear heroine seems torn apart by the choices she has to make. I realize I have been referring to my own assumptions perhaps a bit too frequently, but that's only because the story has failed to cast the woman's state of mind in a consistent light. At times unsure about her decisions and other times quite imposing, the character in Lala seems volatile and empty, hostage to the writer's whimsical imagination. I suppose the idea is to showcase the difficulty for a woman to juggle career and family life in the modern times, but the film does not provide enough evidence to support my conspiracy. Perhaps it is not a film made for the male audience, after all guys aren't always ready to take pleasure from simply seeing a woman in distress. Also, guys are less tolerant of a film full of close-up shots, we don't feel like being compared to movie stars. To be fair, there ARE several long shots reserved for product placement purposes, but since we don't recognize those women-oriented brands, they are not necessary at all. Oh, and we are pretty sure the cinematographer isn't to blame here, Dylan Doyle, we've seen your work in "Touch of the Light," great job! In 2010, Patrick Frater of Variety described "Go Lala Go" as "a precursor to the current wave of Chinese contemporary romance films." There must be a typo here, I think he meant a pretty curse.

One of the few possible ways to appreciate "Spectre" is to think of the latest and most expensive title of the series as a standalone piece. The irony notwithstanding, this seems to be the only way to prolong the life of one of the longest continually-running film series in history. Surely as per routine, "Bond 24" delivers adrenalising car chase, enchanting female bodies and cut-throat fighting scenes. In fact, courtesy of filmmakers Gary Powell and Neil Layton, actresses Monica Bellucci, Léa Seydoux and actor Dave Bautista, "Spectre" has scored well above average in the plentitude of visual thrill. So Bond is unofficially investigating a case assigned by the previous M, and he finds a secret organization linked to his encounters in all four previous Bond films, so far so good. But nothing about the shadowy organization makes sense. "Spectre" has been powerful enough to wreak havoc in the world, but somehow isn't able to deal with an individual 00-agent. The assassin they've sent on Bond's tail seem quite keen on terminating his prey, but once Bond reaches the den of the criminals, they want to torture him instead. And guess what? They have a torture room and some equipment just in place for that purpose! How convenient! Instead of convincing us about the threat of the villain and their evil agenda for world-wide surveillance, the filmmakers only manage to tell us the one thing we've already learnt from the last 23 Bond films, that is, attractive women, from girls in their twenties to widows in their fifties, all want to have some with our tuxedo-ed hero. Some critics believe "Spectre" is identical with "Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation," but that's absurd! Of course both films deal with secret spy organizations, but "Spectre" and "Syndicate" are two different words. Certainly both films are about agents refusing to retire when the intelligence business is modernizing, but "James Bond" and "Ethan Hunt" are two different characters. One sleeps with his enemies and his enemies' wives and mistresses, the other only falls for someone in a more common line of business. Plus the "Rogue Nation" has done a better job in alleviating modern spies' unemployment anxiety. The IMF still needs Ethan Hunt to infiltrate facilities and crack physically isolated terminals, but the 00-agency only needs someone to look the victim in the eyes before deciding to pull the trigger, a job easily replaceable by drones with enhanced camera lenses. But if we were to fixate on the flaws in the story, this review could go on and on, but since I strongly believe that between a movie and its reviews, only one of them is allowed to reach the two-and-a-half-hour mark, let's look at the distinct style instead. Starting with the spectacular long take featuring Mexico's Day of the Dead celebration, the cinematographers continue to provide gratifying images as our characters carry on with their adventure across the globe. Sam Smith's "Writing's on the Wall" may not sound immediately impressive, but the controlled pace and tension eventually rise above the anti-climax of the plot. It also strongly points out the theme of the film: Bond 24 is not about spies or surveillance, but about a man's commitment to fulfilling his promise. Whether Daniel Craig is going to honor his contract and appear in another Bond film for the sake of money, "Spectre" will suffice as a grand finale by itself. Will future directors of the franchise continue to come up with stories with distinctive themes like the Sam Mendes production, or will they churn out more popcorn spy films, we are not sure. But we are sure the latter is getting more and more difficult.

Heaven and earth do not act from the wish to be benevolent; they treat all things and beings equally as they would dogs of grass. This sentence from the classic Taoist text explains Jia Zhangke's approach to formulate his new story, but paradoxically, his leitmotif is one of utmost sympathy and compassion. Life of ordinary people in Jia Zhangke's hometown Fenyang, north China's Shanxi Province is a recurring theme in his films. "Mountains May Depart" begins with a love triangle involving three young people Tao, Jinsheng and Liangzi in the very city back in 1999. Tao's indecision between the two suitors, a coal mine owner and a miner, appears to be aggravating a rift within the small group, but little does she know the divide is caused as much by the competition for her favor as by the development of the country's economy. In 2014, the same group of people continue to grow apart. Miner Liangzi is out of the picture after being diagnosed with terminal disease, Tao and Jinsheng have been married and divorced and their little son becomes an immigrant in Australia. The third part of the film goes beyond Jia's familiar time and space and follows the son in Australia in 2025. The young man named Dollar finds himself lost in a rootless life, as he has totally forgotten about his mother in Fenyang. In China's major cities, economic development has fed high-flying office workers who speak foreign languages, but Jia Zhangke has always focused on the fate of dialect-speaking ordinary people in smaller cities. Many of his previous films capture people who struggle to catch up with the tide, and despite Jia's insistence on sectional formats, critics still appreciate his intimate observation and insight. But things are a bit different with the new film. "Mountains May Depart" still comes in roughly three parts, but the story is more linear than ever before. More importantly, the kind of intimate observation seems to have disappeared, and the characters now seem vacant and soulless. That's because all is symbolic in "Mountains May Depart." Props, music, graphics and even the characters are stripped of their own reasons, they are here to serve one purpose: to highlight men's solitude against the tyranny of time. 1990s Taiwan pop star Sally Yeh's "Zhen Zhong" is not a song to be appreciated, but a link that connects all parts. Like an arbitrary composer, Jia Zhangke exploits everyone and everything at his disposal to create a symphony of melancholy. People die, homes are abandoned, traditions are lost and even mountains may depart. Without love, we are all destined to be alone, prisoners of our own time. In "Mountains May Depart", Jia Zhangke shifts his focus from the underprivileged and the obscure to a wider range of humanity, to remind all of us about the cost of modernization. This is a much more efficient use for his insight, creative genius and capacity for compassion. And if that means a few critics need to expand their scope to understand the director, I suggest they take the extra effort, for their own good.

Director Pete Doctor of Pixar's touching comedy "Up" continues to explore into the matters of the mind. His successful attempt to unravel the emotional activities of an 11-year-old girl has appealed to the sympathy of almost every viewer and critic. In China, the title of the film "Inside Out" is an almost shameful cliche. "Tou Nao Te Gong Dui," the awful translation constitutes a deplorable misrepresentation of the story's startling originality. In 2009 inspired by the changes in his daughter's personality as she grew older, Pete Doctor developed the idea of an animation film featuring human emotions. Since adventure stories are his strongest suit, he would have personified emotions explore the most exquisite and least understood item of nature's invention - the human brain. After consulting numerous psychologists, the filmmakers eventually decided on two parallel narratives, happening both inside a girl's mind and out in her real life. To kickstart the story, a girl named Riley moves with her parents from Minnesota to San Francisco. The change in environment and a series of unfortunate happenings cause emotional upheavals inside the 11-year-old. Her core emotions, Joy, Sadness, Disgust, Fear and Anger, are at a loss to help the girl get back on her feet. While trying to stop Sadness from infecting Riley's core memories, Joy is sucked out of the emotional headquarter with Sadness and end up in the storage area of Riley's long-term memories. In their absence, Disgust, Fear and Anger take charge of Riley's emotions, which leads to the change of the girl's personality. As Joy and Sadness try to get back to the headquarter, they meet Riley's imaginary friend, witness the collapse of Riley's personality islands, take the train of thought and visit the Imagination Land, the Subconscious and the Memory Dump. Many well-known Psychological concepts and terms are vividly represented, and above all, they make sense, according to the established theories on human psychology. After a moderately funny and most touching fashion, "Inside Out" is able to convey the importance of everyday happenings and human contact in the shaping of our personalities. A mishandled case may very well have far-reaching repercussion in the development of a child's character, this could came as a shocking revelation for moviegoers in China, where knowledge about the matters of the mind has not been widely cherished outside the academic circle. However informative this comedy adventure is, most viewers would probably find it easier to relate to it on the emotional basis. Interestingly, it is the things we can't remember that hit us the hardest. From the episode about Riley's imaginary friend to the demonstration of things being cleared from her memory bank, these scenes remind us about every tiny moment in our past that has made us who we are today. But the older we are, the fewer we can recall, and that's the saddest thing about life.

The success of Chinese comedy film "Goodbye Mr. Loser", or "Xia Luo Te Fan Nao", dredges up unaddressed questions from the past and in doing so may help bring about some solutions. The box office powerhouse is adapted from a popular stage show of the same name, which had previously only been seen in a limited number of cities. It is about a middle-aged loafer who makes a fool of himself at any given moment. During a very public showdown with his wife, the man loses consciousness and wakes up to his life 20 years earlier. He goes on a different life path that leads to fame and wealth, but a series of misfortunes follow him like a curse, until he has an epiphany about the most important person in his life. 20 days after its debut, "Goodbye Mr. Loser" has snapped 1.2 billion yuan from Chinese movie theatres. But as it reaches audiences nationwide, the film has become the target of bad publicity. Some movie critics claim the Chinese filmmakers have plagiarised the ideas behind Francis Ford Coppola's 1986 comedy drama "Peggy Sue Got Married," and even provide screenshots from both films for comparison. The filmmakers, however, dismiss the accusation as libel and vow to take legal action. A simple look into the plot of "Peggy Sue Got Married," reveals that such accusations are hardly sound. "Goodbye Mr. Loser" the stage show has been popular for years, so whatever suspicions exist about its originality should have been settled by now. So to bring up the topic at this moment means one of two things: one, some competitors, jealous of its big bang in the market, want to introduce some negativity; two, the crew themselves, operating on the premise that "There is no such thing as bad publicity," wish to boost its success even more. In either case, this publicity stunt amounts to unfair manipulation of public opinion. But any hidden agenda cannot fool the Chinese audience much longer, as moviegoers are becoming smarter. Today they are more and more aware of the rampant loser culture and the rather rude style of humour. No offence to the actors and actresses who have gone out of their way to tickle the audience, but "Goodbye Mr. Loser" does seem to contain some incorrect ideas. On movie rating websites Mtime and Douban, bloggers question the so-called "true love" between a good-for-nothing clown and his selfless wife. The number of such reviews suggests China's younger generation possesses sharper political insight regarding the rights of women and underprivileged people. Jokes at their expense now induce disgust rather than delight. The popularity of "Goodbye Mr. Loser" has amplified the varying tastes of different generations so that more and more people can begin to understand the bad influence of tradition. Now let's see if the filmmakers can adapt to those changes.

Since the beginning of October, China's film market has been dominated by local films. Normally the box office figures reveal little beyond the capricious tastes of Chinese moviegoers, but this time the disparity among the forerunners can serve as an indicator of some sort, or at least as a lesson for certain filmmakers. Top earner "Lost in Hong Kong" is the work of actor and director Xu Zheng, whose ingenuity and unblemished record in the market guaranteed attractive content, generous funding and efficient publicity campaign. Second placed "Goodbye Mr. Loser" is based on a popular stage comedy, whose straightforward storyline has now reached a nationwide audience. Both films have accumulated more than 1 billion yuan each, leading by a large margin the third place contender "Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe," whose income of over 650 million yuan seems slightly out of proportion with public expectations. "Chronicles of the Ghostly Tribe" director Lu Chuan is an established figure in the business known for his willingness to experiment. His last outing "The Last Supper" has been habitually considered as a stain on his record, but was nonetheless a rather innovative and stylish interpretation of historical events. His new creation is loosely based on best-selling novel "Ghost Blows out the Light," but for local policy reasons, the original story about tomb raiders and superstition had to be heavily redacted. Lu Chuan's approach to the tricky plot was to overthrow the premise completely. Instead of ghosts and tomb raiders, Lu Chuan wrote a new story about aliens and explorers. This can't be good news for the fans of the original novel, but it seems the director is not keen on pleasing first-time viewers either, since he insists on rubbing the audience his own way. But in this case, Lu's way is similar to that of Michael Bay. Expending hardly any noticeable effort on telling a convincing story, the filmmakers have exhausted every bit of their capacity for post production. What they achieve is visual grandeur that looks rather expensive. Huge behemoths lurking under water, flaming bats torching people to ashes, vicious trolls pushing everyone to the last stand, plus the stunning beauty of China's wild frontier, all together 1500 shots underwent intensive editing to bring up the wow effect. But quite surprisingly, this movie which looks rather expensive was built on a moderate budget of less than 100 million yuan. Perhaps the affordable cast contributed to the cost management. Among young actors and actresses such as Mark Chao, Feng Li, Li Chen and Tiffany Tang, the only A-lister is Yao Chen, who seems to have been hijacked by the rest of the cast members and taken to a mysterious land of mindless wanderers. The emphasis on the images has lead to the best special effects money can buy, but also a failure to exploit a very popular text. Recently Chinese filmmakers have developed a fondness for adaptable best-selling stories, but they must realize that alone is not guarantee for success. As for Lu Chuan, it is fine to continue experimenting, but following the steps of Michael Bay won't be necessary.

More often than not in the movie business, the best way to ruin a well-loved title is to make a sequel. And the best way to ensure its total degradation is to make a spin-off. Both happen to be efficient ways to extort the last penny possible from movie-goers, and that's why the allure of popular franchise inevitably wears off. "Minions", the spin-off of the "Despicable Me" franchise is the best and latest example of that theory. The 2010 original featured a refreshing perspective on villains and that impressed the market. The following 2013 instalment was a fall from grace, but even worse is the 2015 spin-off that landed on "the Plain of Non-story." The failure of "Minions" is not due to the ebbing interest on the part of the audience members, but rather bad decision-making by the filmmakers. I'm sure the movie fans would still love to see more villainous conducts on the big screen. In fact, when the young supervillain Gru appears at the end of "Minions", with those vicious sparks in his eyes, I could almost feel the same excitement as I felt when watching "Despicable Me" for the first time. The badass element was the key to its popularity. But the filmmakers seem to have abandoned their trump card. In "Despicable Me 2", we no longer saw the wicked ambitions hitherto burning in the chest of Mr. Gru, instead there was a pinky glow of romance that compromised the movie's iconic yellow nuggets of cuteness. And then there is "Minions," whose villain Scarlet Overkill seemed to have a college degree in under-delivering. I have to say, revealing sad stories about the childhood of nefarious super villains is not cool at all, it amounts to acts of suicide for this evil-centric franchise. But despite my discontent, it seems the filmmaker's decision to capitalise on the cute element is bearing tangible results, especially in the Chinese market. With more than 20 million US dollars income over the first weekend, "Minions" surpassed Kung Fu Panda 2 as the all-time top-grossing animated film for its opening day in China, and this is after another cuteness flick "Monster Hunt" dethroned "Fast and Furious 7" to become China's highest grossing film of all time. The appetite for big-eyed, chubby figures remains robust, and the movie-goers have every reason to feel entertained by the neatly arranged amusing scenarios. But being sick and tired of these rampant cuteness, I personally will not spend another penny on any more spin-offs related to the yellow critters, I'll save it for David Ayer's "Suicide Squad."

I almost failed to hold back my tears when watching "Go Away, Mr. Tumor." Other audience members were not so successful, throughout the film sobbing could be heard from various parts of the auditorium. But this film is not merely a tear jerker, from time to time the audience also erupted into fits of hearty laughter. They were celebrating the optimistic spirit of the dearly departed. Director Han Yan's story about a young woman's battle against cancer is based on the final years of cartoonist Xiang Yao. Under the alias Xiong Dun, the girl created many amusing comic stories about the lives of modern Chinese women. Her last and most memorable work is "Go Away, Mr. Tumor," where she showed tremendous courage and optimism to win the respect of numerous internet users and celebrities. A few years later, her story has now been adapted into a movie script and played out by movie stars including Bai Baihe and Daniel Wu. A TV series is also on the way. To offset the ominous implications of the subject and also to match Ms. Xiong's vigorous creativity as a cartoonist, the filmmakers spent generous sums on expensive special effects. The result is a comedy with a strong animation flavour. Scenes mimicking American zombie thriller "The Walking Dead" and South Korean chick flick "My Love from the Star" help us get a better look at the woman who remained fun and inspiring until the end of her days. But the innovative styles of expression have also caused controversy. Many sober moviegoers, who seem untouched by the emotional rollercoaster ride, criticise such styles as random and incoherent. While I can totally agree with their sound judgment, my admiration mostly goes to their ability to stay unaffected by a highly manipulative story. Perhaps those are people who have survived the lesson of loss or have learnt to cope with life's many challenges - good for them. But not everyone can quite face up to the fact that we all have to cross that finishing line at some point. Still weaker members of the human race must rely on borrowed strength and wisdom to sail through their daily struggles. Xiong Dun thought she could lend us a hand. "Now that I've had first-hand experience dealing with the grim reaper himself, I think I am qualified to counsel your guys about your lives," said the girl who left us three years ago. Today, on China's Facebook-like website Weibo where she posted her comic pictures, people still come to leave prayers or to seek courage and consolation. Once again, Chinese actress Bai Baihe proves herself an excellent personality to charm moviegoers. She is only good for a narrow range of characters, but when she makes the right choice, even superstar Daniel Wu looks like a B-lister in her presence. As for other characters, well, let's say the film is more proof that age and experience speak louder than smooth skins and curvy bodies. In a matter of weeks, many of us will probably forget about the tears we shed and resolutions we made as we watched "Go Away, Mr. Tumor," but if so much as a small percentage of us remember the feelings we had in the cinema, this film would have been well worth seeing.

2014 American crime thriller "The Equalizer" is making some people wonder whether the winds have shifted in Hollywood, so that instead of soft-skinned teenage boys who can't act and muscular men who knows an awful lot of four-lettered words, filmmakers are giving the floor to elderly man with obsessive compulsive personality disorder who likes to read. But that's not true, the age when manners and knowledge become the new sexy will not dawn on humanity until Hollywood goes bankrupt and is taken over by a union of wealthy librarians and bookstore owners. And since the librarians and bookstore owners are busy either losing their jobs or going out of business in the age of Information Technology, chances are the world will never see the return to the fad of gentle and well-read vigilante heroes like the masked man from "V for Vendetta", and "The Equalizer" will remain a rare reminder of quality television of the good old 80s. Denzel Washington plays a former espionage agent who lives a quiet life as a worker at a Boston hardware store. Despite a simple and quiet life, the extremely organised man has difficulty sleeping at night and often stays in a 24/7 diner to read literary classics. One day a teenage prostitute he knows from the diner gets beaten up by the Russian Mafia, and the man's attempt to secure the girl's freedom leads to a clash with one of the most powerful gangs on America's east coast. For a film that opens with the ritually simplistic chores of a lonesome man's stoic life, "The Equalizer" has surprisingly bloody action scenes. On the half-hour mark, the story seems to hit a climax as Denzel Washington goes on a spontaneous rampage in the mafia's regional headquarters. One hour into the film, you would think you've seen everything you want to see in an action film, but with anticipation and curiosity you still look forward to what's going to happen next. The masterful pacing in the first hour conspires with elegant lighting, neat cinematography and Washington's imperturbable charisma to create a mysterious halo surrounding the plainly-dressed man and forms a sharp contrast against the Quentin Tarantino-style fury in which he executes his adversaries. Such is the charm of Oscar-worthy duo Denzel Washington and director Antoine Fuqua. But the second half of the film fails to take the action to the next level. As the main villain, Marton Csokas does let out some effectively menacing snarls to help build up the tension, but he ultimately falls short of challenging Washington's superhero glamour, due to the writer's keenness to highlight the impromptu skills of a genius assassin. So in conclusion "The Equalizer" offers a refreshing experience and reminds us of the charm of a real gentleman, and that's more than one can expert from most action films of this type.

“Battle of Taierzhuang” is a historical and historic film made to mark the fortieth anniversary of China's victory against Japanese Aggression and the end of the Second World War. The filmmakers' attention to historical detail demonstrates their reverence to those who died defending the country. Now as we cherish peace at the threshold of the 70th anniversary of the end of the war, our memory of wartime history threatens to fade with the departure of each living witness. It is reassuring to realise we can still revisit history by turning to this classic film, but it is regrettable that no modern movies have been made which can match their historic and artistic value. The 1986 war film chronicles the first major victory in the Chinese people's war of resistance against Japanese aggression. Unlike other war films that emphasise the roles of the people and the Communist Party of China, "Battle of Taierzhuang" was the first to feature the war efforts of the Kuomintang's armies. It offered detailed accounts as to how the Kuomintang leaders and commanding generals overcame disagreements and tremendous difficulties to foil a Japanese offensive operation in East China. The victory cast doubt on the belief that Japan's armies were invincible, and inspired faith in China's resistance efforts. With no special effects or romantic elements to spice things up, "Battle of Taierzhuang" can still captivate viewers with its documentary-style realism and eloquent imagery. The fully developed script was written after conscientious research into historical facts, but was still subject to repeated amendments. Director Yang Guangyuan was an excellent cinematographer. His shots provided the optimal combination of art and information. One most impressive example is the images of bodies lining the walls of the ancient city, which are a shocking visual translation of the wartime vocabulary "Great Wall of Flesh and Blood." The historical accuracy extends to the objective description of the Japanese foe, which forms a stark contrast with the works of modern Chinese filmmakers. The latter have come under the influence of Hollywood's superhero complex and often portray the invading soldiers as dummies in comparison to Chinese heroes, which doesn't help the young people of our time understand and respect history, especially when one country involved in the war is trying actively to obliterate the memory of it. The respect for history and the Chinese people's war effort as depicted in "Battle of Taierzhuang" also helped to improve the relationship between two sides of the Taiwan Strait. It is reported that, after watching the film honouring their resistance efforts, Kuomintang leaders allowed their former fighters to visit their relatives on the mainland. It is quite surprising how an excellent film can achieve multiple tasks at the same time, but such is the result of the passion and dedication from all people involved. What is even more surprising is how the explosion in box office figures in recent years, while arousing the excitement of plenty of filmmakers and investors, can have no positive bearing on the quality of their products when taken as a whole. Perhaps a crash course in films made in the last century is what they need.

用声音，在一起

With cutting-edge CGI technology, "Monkey King: Hero is Back" conjures the rebellious protector from the childhood of China's younger generations and channels tremendous consumer power. The explosions of positive reviews and box office figures mark the triumphant fusion of nostalgia and modernity, but don't necessarily signal a brighter outlook for Chinese animated films. Due to a lack of originality in story-writing, Chinese filmmakers often turn to classic texts for inspiration. For that reason, Ming Dynasty novelist Wu Cheng'en's "Journey to the West" has recently witnessed a comeback in popularity as a subject for adaptation. Hong Kong directors Stephen Chow and Cheang Pou-soi have each launched a new series to lukewarm reception but more sequels are still in the making. Also in the genre of animation, director Wang Chuan's "Kuiba" is loosely based on Wu's story. The ambitious franchise in 3D was designed to challenge Hollywood movies and represented the highest level of production quality, but that has now met with fierce competition in the domestic market. "Monkey King: Hero is Back" directly appeals to viewers' sense of sight with loud colours, dynamic action scenes and occasionally quiet background shots in the style of traditional Chinese landscape painting. When the Monkey King unleashes his full strength, viewers could almost feel the same excitement as watching a Japanese Shōnen manga story. The refreshing images give many viewers the hope that maybe Chinese animation filmmakers have mastered the modern techniques on par with Hollywood or Japanese counterparts. Despite a single linear narrative that some claim to be unfit for grown-up audience members, the story does succeed in capturing a hero with moderately complex characters. On the one hand, he is the rebellious hero that revolts against the Heavenly deities; on the other hand, he cherishes the bond with his friends and overcomes himself to protect them. The power dynamics of his relationship with famous Monk Xuanzang, or Jiangliuer in this story, is reversed. The Monkey King here is no longer an unruly beast to be tamed by the righteous and fatherly monk, but a living legend loved by everyone. This variation evokes the memory of Chinese moviegoers, who in their childhood have looked up to the Monkey King as a defiant rebel against traditional patriarchal values. The visual and emotional allure of the film has turned numerous casual viewers into willing converts. Their fervent suasion has hyped the film's box office income as well as people's expectations for Chinese animated films. But amid the thunderous applause and accolades, it is hard to notice the eight years of hardships and hardwork behind the scene. And before Chinese animation industry can truly turn a page for the better, filmmakers must be willing to endure more such difficult years, notwithstanding a huge influx of investment into their reach.

Mortal men and women like success stories. They adore successful figures and enjoy projecting their own egos with such stories. Few of them understand that success sometimes comes as a curse rather than a blessing. Chinese director Chen Kaige is one of those successful yet unfortunate people who live their lives under a curse. His 1993 movie "Farewell My Concubine" made him the only Chinese director to win a Palme d'Or, but like his other recent outings, Chen's latest project "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" has once again put his name and fame into question. The comedy-fantasy-adventure film is based on the best-selling novel Dao Shi Xia Shan by Xu Haofeng, who also wrote the story for Wong Kar Wai's martial arts drama "The Grandmaster." Chen's source material is about a Taoist monk who comes down the mountain to join the mundane world below. Like "The Grandmaster," "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" features Chinese martial arts and a spiritual pilgrimage. Although both offer stunning imagery and special effects, Wong Kar Wai's masterpiece trumps Chen Kaige's product in many aspects. First of all, the action choreography in "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" mainly involves an awkward abuse of wire work, which is neither realistic nor romantic. Actor Zhang Zhen gave a brief but impressive demonstration of his Kung Fu prowess in "The Grandmasters," but here in Chen's story, his character is reduced to one of a mascot. Secondly, in both movies Wong and Chen assume the role of a life coach and peddle plenty of inspirational reflections, but at least during his second try to render the film into 3D, Wong has managed to make the ideas coherent with the story and reachable for ordinary moviegoers. In comparison Chen's condescending stance alienates viewers from his story, like a mountain that separates the monks from the real world. The main idea of "Monk Comes Down the Mountain" is one who seeks the ultimate truth must experience the lives of the ordinary people, but this simple notion is deliberately made to sound mysterious and unfathomable in the movie. Now I am not saying our dear director Chen Kaige is shallow-minded and incapable of having mysterious and unfathomable thoughts, on the contrary, as the son of famous director Chen Hua'ai, Chen is perhaps the most well-read and most thoughtful among China's fifth generation directors. But while having sophisticated ideas may be his stronger suit, conveying them to the general public is not. In the 2005 fantasy film "The Promise" his tentative move to produce a blockbuster movie met a disastrous end. In the 2012 drama "Caught in the Web" Chen tried to catch up with developments in society and on the internet, but his own perspective was absent from the pictures. In "Monk Comes Down the Mountain", Chen somewhat retracts his steps and adds some cultural elements, but they amount to nothing but icon-mongering. It seems his attempts to court public favour always appear in the form of belated clichés, while his return to his own roots always end up confusing the audience. Certainly "Farewell My Concubine" will forever be the highlight on Chen's resume, but that masterpiece is the result of many top level filmmakers working together as a team. Without the assistance of an adequate team, Chen Kaige is trapped in the shrine of his past glory and left alone to err. With a handful of setbacks in the past few years, now Mr. Chen may believe he has come down the mountain and lived with the ordinary people, but the truth is his learning days are not over. Unless he finds a way to translate his philosophy into accessible images and stories, or a team that helps him in that regard, the public will continue questioning his past success.

Director Cheang Pou-soi and writer Jill Leung weave an elaborate labyrinth of multiple narratives to paint a bleak picture of a dog-eat-dog underworld in "SPL2: A Time for Consequences." At times hard to stomach but mostly riveting, the action thriller offers a wide range of spectacular imagery culminating in the clash of top martial artists from Chinese mainland, Hong Kong and Thailand. For a film that boasts an international cast and setting, SPL2 exhibits an exceptionally indigenous Chinese flavour. An undercover policeman struggling with drug addiction, a prison guard with a leukaemia-afflicted daughter, a ruthless organ trafficker in dire need of a heart replacement, everyone is somehow connected in an enclosed community of "Jianghu," where extraordinary personalities find no escape from their destiny. Thailand action star Tony Jaa plays the loving father and prison guard. His quest to locate a bone marrow donor for his ailing daughter coincides with disturbing developments at his workplace. At one point the cure is close at hand, but little does he know he will need to risk his own life for his daughter's salvation. In SPL2 Tony Jaa's uncommon moves constitute an eye opener for Chinese viewers. Mainland Chinese Kung Fu star Wu Jing found a career breakthrough after his adventurous investment in "Wolf Warriors" turned out in his favour. His extended exposure here as an undercover police fighting for redemption greatly boosts his presence and may even propel him into super-stardom. His technique merges the styles of Jet Li and Donnie Yen which is at the same time expressive and realistic. Perhaps the biggest winner is Chinese actor Zhang Jin, who won the Best Supporting Actor at the 33rd Hong Kong Film Awards for his role in Wong Kar Wai's martial arts drama "The Grandmaster." Here he appears as a prison warden awaiting retribution, whose immaculate wardrobe matches his simple, slashing moves. With a face as fair as a modern office worker and adequate acting skills, Zhang could pose a serious challenge to Wu Jing's ascension, what he needs is the versatility to adapt his styles to the fleeting tastes of Chinese Kung Fu fans. Surely the actors also owe their success to writer Jill Leung and action director Li Chung-chi who arrange multiple occasions for them to showcase their skills. From gun fight to prison riot to slaughterhouse rampage or simple one-on-one duels, the action stars collide, change sides, form new alliances and collide again, creating impressive spectacles on all scales. More impressive is the use of parallel narrative. Many key developments in the story are often screened simultaneously to heighten the sense of destiny and/or irony, which in itself is a powerful tool to glue together the numerous episodes of fighting scenes. Despite the artistic failure in 2014 fantasy film "The Monkey King," director Cheang Pou-soi is well known for the distinctly dark and hopeless mood in his previous movies. In "SPL2: A Time for Consequences" he offers a pessimism of the most ambitious kind that trumps the unaccountable heroism in a "Transformers" movie, although his unique traits are still all over the piece to infect sensitive viewers.