
2000 · Edward Yang
A Taipei family faces personal and moral uncertainty as everyday events test their relationships and sense of purpose.
dir. Edward Yang · 2000
A wedding opens it, a funeral closes it, and in between Edward Yang holds an entire Taipei family — and something like the whole span of a life — in delicate suspension. Grandmother falls into a coma; each relative, urged to speak to her, discovers how little they have to say for themselves. The father meets a lost love in Tokyo; the daughter stumbles into first romance; and eight-year-old Yang-Yang photographs the backs of people's heads, showing them the half of life they cannot see — as clean a statement of what cinema is for as anyone has managed. Yang, the great architect of the Taiwanese New Cinema alongside Hou Hsiao-hsien, composes through glass and reflection, the city's lights floating over his characters' faces, intimacy and urban distance in a single frame. He won Best Director at Cannes in 2000; a long-gestating animation project and then cancer meant he never completed another feature, and he died in 2007. Three hours pass like an afternoon with people you love. Its Chinese title means, roughly, 'one one' — simple things, one by one.
Lines of influence