QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM KARLOVY VARY
Set in modern-day Taipei, Nelicia Low’s debut feature is a hybrid and ambitious endeavour blending fraternal love, queer vulnerability, fencing and singing. Zijin (Liu Hsiu-fu) is a quiet and introspective young man. He attempts to gain some social acceptance by fencing with other males around his age. Amongst them is his brother Zihan (Tsao Yu-ning), who happens to be far more confident, outgoing, and a few years his senior. The sports has three modalities: foil, epee and sabre. They picked the third option because it “slashes”. The problem is that Zihan took that quite literally and killed a fellow enthusiast seven years earlier. Despite vehemently claiming his innocence (by insisting that the blade accidentally snapped), he was imprisoned for murder. Inexplicably, he’s now free to live his life and also to practice a sport from which he should be presumably banned.
The movie opens with the near-drowning of Zijin as a child. He gets saved by his elder Zihan, who repeatedly uses his allegedly heroic behaviour as a token of his dignity. His mother begs to differ: she insists that he only saved his younger singling because she ordered him, and that otherwise he would have left the poor child to die. She is convinced that her primogenit is psychopath, and demands that her much-loved younger boy stays away from him. Mum happens to be a cabaret singer, who has an affair with a man who dreams of becoming Zijin’s stepfather.
The duel scenes provide the most realistic and engaging moments. The cinematography is as sharp and clear as the swords. Plus, you are guaranteed to improve your fencing vocabulary. “En garde, pret, allez” are the lunging orders. “Parrying” for warding off the sudden blows. “Hide our emotions”, instructs Zihan (in an unequivocal extension of his immoral personality). And always your breeches (protective gear underneath the trousers). The meshed fencing masks become an allegory for Zihan’s coward and deceptive attitude.
Despite the security protocols in place, “accidents” are bound to happen. And people are destined to get wounded, as the film title suggests. Or at least that’s what Zihan wants everyone to believe. His brother stands firmly by his side, to his mother’s disappointment. One of such tragic events leads to a romantic encounter between Zijin and a beautiful boy around his age. There is even a timid gay kiss. Taiwan was the first country in Asia to legalise homosexuality, and it is used to the far more graphic and profound queer stories of Tsai Ming-liang. Just last year, gentle Taiwanese drama A Journey In Spring (Tzu-Hui Peng and Ping-Wen Wang) won the Best Director Award in San Sebastian. This representation is neither subtle nor audacious, just lame. Half-baked and half-queer.
The characters of Singapore-born and Taiwan-based Nelicia Low’s debut feature are as flat as a pancake. Zijin is the stereotypical shy and vulnerable brother. Zihan is evil and manipulative. The unidimensional performances, the manipulative music score and familiar ruses (such as sudden zooms for added intensity) do not give the villain the benefit of doubt. It is clear from the outset that he intentionally killed his victim and indeed wanted his brother to die. The acting is notably stagey, hindered by a contrived and formulaic (if coherent) script. Multiple characters tremble their lips in order convey fear and hesitation. Not very sophisticated.
The film predictably ends with an orgy of violence, a succession of cheesy pop songs, and a bizarre twist reinforcing old prejudices. It makes no sense, either from a psychological or a moral perspective. What first seemed like a parable, ends up as a film without a clear purpose and meaningful takeaway.
Pierce is in the Official Competition of the 58th Karlovy Vary International Film Festival.