A Japanese tourist takes refuge from a rainstorm inside a once-popular movie theater, a decrepit old barn of a cinema that is screening a martial arts classic, King Hu’s 1966 “Dragon Inn.” Even with the rain bucketing down outside, it doesn’t pull much of an audience – and some of those who have turned up are less interested in the movie than in the possibility of meeting a stranger in the dark. –IMDb
Along with Edward Yang and Hou Hsiao-hsien, Tsai Ming-liang became one of Taiwan’s most prominent directors during the 1990s. His films regularly appeared in festivals around the globe and he received lavish praise from film critics worldwide. Born in Malaysia in 1957, Tsai moved to Taiwan and graduated from the Chinese Cultural University in 1982. For the next ten years, he worked in theater and writing screenplays for films and television. He directed his first feature in 1992, Rebels of the Neon God, which, with its tough but tender depictions of disaffected youth, earned him comparisons to Rainer Werner Fassbinder. In addition to Fassbinder, Tsai was also influenced by François Truffaut, to whom he was exposed as a student. His style differed from his idol Truffaut’s, however, like his countrymen Yang and Hou, Tsai preferred long takes, few close-ups, and sparse dialogue. And like another of his influences, Michelangelo Antonioni, he displayed a genius for placing the camera at… read more
Sometimes you just see something special. Here, in such a short time, Tsai Ming-liang has shown the humor, sadness and joy in life. A remarkable achievement.
Cinema is dead, that's right. But it was this picture that killed it. Truly horrendous.
My introduction to Tsai. It's a testament to the film's power that I was entirely captivated despite being quite sleepy before starting it. It is at once a hypnotic ghost story, a poignant elegy for the cinema, and a quiet reflection on the filmgoing experience. Also notable: Tsai's spatial awareness and impeccable lighting.
Just like the awkwardly lengthy urinal stays, the teary spectator unwilling to leave his seat, the ghostly strangers' cigarettes burning out, and the static, unmoving shot that has been deserted by its subject, the film moves painfully, slowly- like the limping ticket taker- to its dreaded farewell.
Tsai offers both an intensified take on his brand of voyeurism and a sweet valentine to his cast of regulars.
I’m not sure if Goodbye, Dragon Inn is a juvenile “arty” film with nothing to say, or a sublime meditation on the impossibility of communicating other than through shred cinematic experiences. read review
Goodbye, Dragon Inn is probably one of the most engaging films I have seen lately, which isn’t saying too much since it is 5 years old. I say the film is engaging because within the first five minutes… read review