Edward Yang Retrospective

Tonight, I was able to attend the opening of the first ever Edward Yang Retrospective. In attendance was Serge Toubiana, Jean Michel Frodon (author of "Le cinéma d'Edward Yang"), some Taiwanese dignitaries, and Yang's widow, Kai-Li Peng. Each had a few words to say about the late director and the retrospective before two films were subsequently screened, The Winds (a short, uncompleted animation), and The Terrorizer (Kai-Li Peng's favorite).

The Terrorizer (1986) is stripped down to nothing: decor is sparse, people are few, advertisements are not to be seen, there is no music score. The term 'minimalism' is a generalization that is so lightly tossed around these days that its hard to tell what one means by it. In the case of, The Terrorizer, every element that is presented serves a purpose: there is nothing supplementary or extra. The fat is completely shaved off the cut, as is even evidenced by the infrequent dialogue. Emptiness envelops you as you are drawn into the intertwining stories of several groups of people, whose names are barely ever really mentioned, and apparently, aren't all that important.
The film begins with a single police car, sirens blaring, as it traverses Taipei circa 1986 to a homicide scene. A bullet-ridden body lays face down in the street. Only a stray dog and an amateur photographer dare to stare at a distance, let alone approach the corpse. It is this Taipei that acts as the backdrop for these people's lives--a place where the law-enforcement is seasoned, but always a step behind. A place that is home to many callused, and listless souls. Although, the story is told from Taiwan, the themes its presents are universal to the human struggle: life purpose, loyalty, and love. The film is tragic no matter how you cut it, but there are intentional elements of hope to be found.
Yang, a great admirer of the Italian Neorealist movement, clearly wanted to represent life as it was, as he saw it. His world view shines through vividly: there is so much that is ugly, tragic, and unfair to be found in life. These things can all give us the fuel to become terrorizers, but we retain the capacity to choose, whether or not, to walk that dark path--no matter our lot in life.
The film manages to bring up several subtexts regarding the art of photography without losing focus on the overall narrative. The camera, as on object, is fetishized; photography, as an art, is romanticized; photography, as a process, is displayed. There is even a brief scene that studies the photographer's eye as we watch pedestrians from a distance on a bridge, as if through the lens of a photo journalist. For a film that puts so much emphasis on the medium, it should be well shot; The Terrorizer is a masterpiece. A painful, but beautiful picture of modern urban life, and humanity is painted here.



In a larger sense, it seems that Yang is also trying to advocate the power of the arts; the photographer and the novelist in the story, use their respective crafts, as a means to cope with and learn from their daily struggles. Their work is presented as a powerful tool for communication, as well. As the film progresses, a number of the characters are presented as presumably being the terrorizer: one could even make the case of the city itself. Yet, a few critical choices change the entire course of the story. The director is reaching out and prodding, saying, "life is miserable, but we can chose a higher path, and make it, or leave it a better place."