At the start of summer every year, I like to kick off the celebration of no schoolwork and limited obligations with something that has practically become ritualistic for me: compiling a summer to-do list with so many things on it that it is implausible and unfeasible to accomplish all of them. It’s not some sort of optimistic gesture where I think, “Oh, I’ll just add way too many things and that will push me to finish/accomplish at least a handsome percentage of the them,” but more due to something I have termed the “Spring Break Fallacy.” It is the exaggerated perception of time that one gets at the beginning of any school break, wherein three months seems like a year, one month seems like six, and one week seems like three months. It is dangerous only insofar as “biting off more than you can chew” in terms of goals and expectations. And it happens to me EVERY school break.

Of course, me writing about it right now shows that I recognize and acknowledge this, so from now on I will purposefully give myself unrealistic goals that I have no means of completing in such a short time. Hence, this post, where I can publicly release my expectations for the summer and then come back and laugh at them in the fall when I realize I didn’t accomplish anything. Actually, – and you should know this if you’ve been listening to my podcast recently – originally I was supposed to be in China all summer, but in the end that plan fell through. This was mainly because a) most of the other people going on the trip I didn’t know or didn’t get along with, and b) calculating in the rent for my stateside apartment, the cost of the trip would be in excess of $10,000, money I do not have and would rather put toward a semester in college. The only reason I am heartbroken about this is that, in the midst of  dilly-dallying with the logistics and paperwork for this trip, I missed a much more rare opportunity to travel to China on a separate trip this summer with one of my favorite professors and some really good friends from Point for a significantly smaller amount of money. One of my mottos in life is “no regrets,” but I can’t help but sigh when thinking of missing out on this for something else that didn’t even work out anyway.

Regardless, this summer still holds some interesting possibilities, and I think it will be better than last summer now that I’ve moved from working at a video store to working for a professional television station. It’s a better prospect given that my work in television affords me the luxury of not having to deal with irritating, annoying customers and offers dynamic, interesting work, as opposed to the video store, where I was doing the exact same thing every day I worked. This also means I can get my nights back, since working at a video rental store automatically entails working night shifts almost exclusively. You can probably guess that business isn’t booming for video rental at one in the afternoon, aside from little kids renting Halo when they should be outside amusing themselves. At least, that’s what my friends and I did back in “the day.” Oh, how the times have changed!

Anyway, enough rambling, here is my to-do list for this summer (sadly, this probably isn’t even comprehensive):

1. Three Months, Three Films – Making three films (one film per month) with my friends to make up for our lack of activity on the film front for the past few years. So far, we’re trying to make a sequel to our action film from 2007 as well as that romantic comedy we never made last year.
2. Mandarin practice – Over winter break, I didn’t do any language practice, and I was rusty at the beginning of second semester Chinese. Some self-study is called for over the next three months, be it learning dirty words, embarrassing myself by talking in Mandarin on the internet, or just listening to Pimsleur and practicing 写汉字.
3. Summer classes! I finally decided to do something academically productive over the summer and signed up for some distance learning courses through UW-Eau Claire, since they are substantially cheaper than most of the other UW institutions I looked at. I’m learning about international politics in June and microeconomics in July.
4. Writing and performing music – I’m always writing music, regardless of the season, so that will continue. Hopefully Central Plaza will release some more singles or perhaps an EP before summer’s end. Apparently I’ve also been conscripted into playing keys for my dad’s new cover band.
5. Podcasting and writing blog posts on the regular. Auspicious Objects often gets neglected (the last post on here was written months ago), which is sad, since I do enjoy writing, but rarely have the time or motivation to do so during the school year. Therefore, I would like to see to it that this site gets a healthy amount of posts over the summer and into the fall. Stationary Joystick and possibly The Gentlemen’s Agreement will have a steady output of episodes as well, I hope. I’m too much of a closet narcissist for them not to.
6. Journey to New York, D.C., and Maryland. Heading out to hook up with some friends I made this year at school, and of course Jackie of Twinkie Beyond fame and Aaron of Three Guys Walk Into a Bar fame.
7. Journey to Stevens Point. Naturally, an adventure (perhaps more than one) to Stevens Point is pretty much mandatory, to hook up with the old crew and get my fill of local favorites, those being Belt’s ice cream, Green Tea Chinese cuisine, Gyro House gyros, and Wooden Spoon sandwiches.
8. Reading a lot of books and watching a lot of films. My newfound appreciation for university interlibrary loaning has opened up an entire new world of books to read for free (!), and I plan to make good use of my Netflix membership this summer as well.

…That’s what I’ve got right now. Looking at it, perhaps it’s not so much, though finishing three films will be an interesting challenge. What do you, my three readers, have on the docket for this summer?

One of my favorite Hong Kong films is a little-remembered biopic from 1991 starring Andy Lau as the eponymous Lee Rock, a police cadet who joins the force solely for the purpose of being able to buy food. Initially righteous and morally upstanding, he refuses bribes and chastises his colleagues for accepting them. As Lee Rock climbs up the ranks, however, his attitude changes, and by the time the sequel rolls around, he is paying off gang leaders and divising an official system of  dividing bribes up amongst officers and detectives. The end of Lee Rock II sees Andy Lau’s character fleeing to Canada to avoid prosecution at the hands of the ICAC – The Independent Commission Against Corruption. It’s hard to discern how much of the Lee Rock saga is fictionalized (a question we have to take a hard look at with any biopic), but according to Hong Kong gweilo film critic Paul Fonoroff, the films are at least partly rooted in fact, similar to Casino Tycoon, another Andy Lau biopic made in 1992 about Macau gambling tycoon Stanley Ho. Actually, the two film franchises are eerily similar to each other in terms of plot structure, but that’s a discussion for another time. Prolific filmmaker Wong Jing produced Lee Rock (as well as directed Casino Tycoon), and in 2009, he decided to revisit the subject of corrupt policemen – as well as the ICAC, which only gets brief screentime in Lee Rock II – for I Corrupt All Cops, which also crafts a lot of fiction around a little bit of fact.

The film suffers from the same problem many Wong Jing films struggle with: a lack of focus. ICAC spends the first half of it’s 2+ hour running time setting up numerous subplots and developing the characters within them, but it seems readily apparent that Wong Jing is unsure of who to devote screentime to. Anthony Wong’s character is established in the first scene…then he disappears in favor of focusing on corrupt head police officials Lak (Tony Leung Ka-Fai), Gale (Eason Chan), and Gold (Wong Jing himself). By the time Anthony Wong comes back into the fold, it’s hard to remember what he was doing at the beginning and what purpose he serves the story now. Perhaps even more puzzling is the inclusion of an extensive backstory for Alex Fong’s character at the beginning of the film. Bong (Fong) is an upstanding student at the University of Hong Kong who ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time, getting the shit beaten out of him by Anthony Wong and other police officers in order to extract a confession for crimes he had no part in. Bong is eventually released rightfully scotch-free, but he warns the officers that “one day, I’m going to put you all behind bars.” Anyone who has seen a film before will realize that this is blatant foreshadowing, and sure enough, in the second act of the film Bong applies as an investigator for the newly-established ICAC. Yet, in this capacity, he only acts as scenery, and his character has no effect on the story whatsoever. He barely even has any lines while investigating corrupt police officers and flashing his ICAC badge. Also, he ends up working with Anthony Wong in the ICAC. What happened to vengeance?

Oh shit, it’s the ICAC!

Thankfully, Wong Jing manages to restrain himself, and avoids putting in odd comic sequences that detract from the film’s serious tone. Still, there is one decidedly major subplot that is patently ridiciulous, even though it isn’t played for laughs. Gale acts as Lak’s right-hand man, and ends up taking the fall for Lak and company’s infidelity on more than one occasion – nine occasions, to be exact. Gale marries all of his colleague’s mistresses once they’ve been exposed, and by the time of the film’s narrative, he has nine wives. It’s an interesting and fun idea, but it’s nonsensical nature is highlighted all-the-more when seen in between plausible segments. At least it leads to someone getting a hammer to the face…

Eight of Gale’s nine wives.

Even though the film derives it’s name from the ICAC (I hope you’ve figured that out by now), there is a disappointingly small amount of screentime devoted to the organization itself. Besides the required montage of the team busting into police official’s houses and flashing their badges, very little of the narrative focuses on the ICAC. Maybe it was too dry for Wong Jing’s a-thrill-a-minute approach? I would have gladly taken more dramatization of the ICAC’s actual history over the painfully unnecessary and overly-drawn-out explanation of the murder of a dog. The problem is that over half of the film is spent on exposition. By the time the “action” of the story hits, it’s already time to wrap things up. Since the ICAC obviously isn’t around for the first part of the film, completing its story arch doesn’t seem to be much of a priority, and thus much of the ICAC story ended up on the cutting room floor. It’s a travesty for those who are interested in the factual background of Hong Kong’s struggle with police corruption. If you are willing to overlook the lack of attention payed to the ICAC, however, I Corrupt All Cops is an engaging and entertaining piece of cinema, especially when compared with much of Wong Jing’s other work. Perhaps we’ll just have to wait another decade or so for another stab at documenting the real story of the ICAC.

While taking a course in French film can be a fun and culturally-insightful experience, it can also be a trip to Hell. The syllabus inevitably will include at least one black-and-white film longer three hours, which is horrifying when your class meets at night in a dark lecture hall. Oh, the hours I spent over the semester fighting to stay awake while films were screened that moved at a snail’s pace…Our class had to watch a few such “classics,” but one that comes to mind in particular is the 1945 film Children of Paradise, best summed up by one of my classmates as “a three hour long movie about a mime.” It’s about as engaging as it sounds. The character of Frédérick Lemaître – a narcissistic and headstrong but likable actor on his way to the top – is interesting, but he isn’t given enough screen time to save the film.

2. The French New Wave movement kicked ass.

The term “new wave” gets thrown around a lot these days to refer to a lot of things, but when reading a film studies textbook, it typically refers to the French new wave, a film movement in the ’50s and ’60s pioneered by a few friends who were film-critics-turned-filmmakers. The reason why the French new wave is so important to film history is because the films that came out of it were, well, awesome. Their directors also had the good sense to throw convention to the wind and play around with the medium, leading to strange stylistic touches such as abrupt jump cuts and tracking shots created by using shopping carts as dollies. Perhaps the most well-remembered directors from the movement are founding fathers Jean Luc-Godard (Breathless) and François Truffaut (The 400 Blows).

3. When you say Criterion Collection, you’ve said it all.

Sometimes I wonder why the Criterion Collection isn’t better known by the average DVD-buying folk, being that they’ve been around since the days of Laserdisc and have a pretty varied and prolific output. I’m thinking the relative obscurity of Criterion – at least where I live – is due to both economical and geographical factors. For one thing, most of their DVDs are upwards of $30. If you think that’s a little absurd, you should look at their boxsets (Side note: I recently managed to pick up the brand new Nikkatsu Noir set for $15, thanks to Best Buy RewardZone points – score!). The other problem is that I live in Wisconsin, and most of the people around me are a bit closeminded in terms of the films they will watch. Something I learned from working at a video store for way too long is this: If it is not in English and requires the use of subtitles, they will not watch it. When you factor in that a large portion of Criterion’s catalogue are foreign films, it seems obvious why the average Midwesterner doesn’t know about Criterion. Of course, the Midwest does have it’s share of pretentious film snobs, present company not excluded.

4. Paris, je t’aime isn’t really a French film…but it’s still awesome.

One week in class we ended up watching Paris, je t’aime, a recent omnibus film bringing together the visions of 21 directors. Despite the filming locale, it seems a bit dubious to place this film on a French film syllabus, as people from all over the world contributed to the shorts that comprise Paris, je t’aime; American viewers will probably recognize Natalie Portman and Steve Buscemi, among others. Vincenzo Natali, the man behind Cube, gets in on the act, as does Wong Kar Wai’s cinematographer of choice, Christopher Doyle. The film is a hodgepodge of cultures, blending dialogue in multiple languages and showcasing actors of different heritages, so…is it really a French film? No, of course not. Is it entertaining? It most certainly is.

Anthony Wong and Herman Yau, the dream team behind such exploitation classics as Ebola Syndrome and The Untold Story, teamed up before both of those movies to make Taxi Hunter. While one could still file “Taxi Hunter” under the exploitation label, it’s not nearly as tasteless and grotesque as Wong and Yau’s later efforts.

Wong plays an average insurance salesman who seems to be living a great life: He is moving up the corporate ladder in his career and also has a good wife who is soon to give birth to his child. Things aren’t bad. That is, unless there is a taxi around. Evidentially, Wong’s picture perfect life frequently gets disrupted by Hong Kong taxi drivers, who are apparently the scum of the earth. One such driver swerves in front of Wong and abruptly breaks to pick up some passengers. Wong rear-ends the taxi, and the driver promptly bullies him (with help from other taxi drivers) into paying a large sum of money for pettily damages.

However, this isn’t enough to upset Wong, so he shrugs it off and goes home. After his wife goes into labor, he calls a cab, which promptly ditches him in favor of a higher fare. Wong stops the next taxi, but that driver too refuses to take his wife, as he doesn’t want blood all over the seats. Unfortunately, this driver closes the rear passenger door with part of Wong’s wife’s dress caught in it, so she gets dragged down the street and eventually dies because of this.

Since Wong is an average white collar guy, he copes with his grief by crying and getting an extended vacation from work. While eating outside, Wong notices a taxi driver attempting to extort extra money from a passenger. Upset, he walks across the street and, in what is perhaps the film’s funniest moment, impulsively punches the taxi driver in the face, prompting applause from the surrounding crowd. Later that evening, Wong gets drunk with his brother-in-law (who happens to be a cop) and takes a taxi home alone. Wong is harassed by the driver, who he eventually strangles with a seatbelt buckle. Thus begins a murderous rampage on taxis and the people who drive them.

While the premise sounds rather nihilistic, the film shies away from violence in all but a few scenes, which may put off fans of Wong and Yau’s later collaborations. The film’s exposition takes up the first forty minutes of the running time, during which little happens (apart from an opening action sequence). Not to say Taxi Hunter is a bad film; it’s decent entertainment, just don’t expect a bloodbath. The only complaint I have is that Man Tat Ng (sans Stephen Chow) plays a cop, and it’s quite obvious that the film tries to play him for laughs. The juxtaposition between his bumbling character and the grave seriousness of the rest of the film doesn’t quite work out, which ruins the atmosphere at points. Still, Taxi Hunter is an above-average offering from the exploitation genre, which may be well-suited for those who couldn’t stomach The Untold Story or Ebola Syndrome.

Two years before Poltergeist III came out, Hong Kong made their own film about a haunted skyscraper entitled The Ghost Snatchers. While The Ghost Snatchers was not directed by Wong Jing, the prolific (and often hated) filmmaker wrote the script and stars as one of the principal protagonists; his trademark irreverence is also reflected heavily in the film’s story and narrative structure. And really, I will tell you up front that this is not a quality film. As far as storytelling is concerned, the script falters in the typical Wong Jing way; every character is unashamedly one-dimensional and tangential subplots randomly manifest, disappear, and reappear later in a confusing manner. What this film does have going for it are the special effects. In fact, the story seems to be nothing more than a convenient way to link one effects-laden scene to the next, and while that approach will never qualify as quality filmmaking, it is unabashedly fun to watch. The effects aren’t all crafted well, but they are exceptionally possessive of the fun 80’s kitsch factor (think Ghostbusters) and are very cartoony in an amusing way.

Oh, you want to hear the synopsis? Well, I’ll be honest, I’m not even completely sure what the story is about, but basically Wong Jing and Stanley Fung are security officers who work in a skyscraper that turns out to be tainted by bad feng shui and haunted by the spirits of angry Japanese soldiers. Also, some girl gets possessed, but her subplot doesn’t seem to matter much, since the film devotes little screen time to her and her plight. Anyway, Wong Jing’s girlfriend (Joey Wong) enlists the help of a spiritual medium (Joyce Godenzi) to rid the building of it’s problems. In typical Wong Jing fashion, it seems that every idea that came up during the brainstorming session for the film shows up in the final product. Consequently, the tone continually shifts between low-brow comedy and light horror.

Besides the mix of funny and unfunny jokes, we get a special effects bonanza; haunted TV sets walk, skeletons attack, a giant guillotine cuts a room in half, and a dude even blows up without much warning or reason. Most of it isn’t genuinely scary, but the film makes up for this by providing plenty of “Did that seriously just happen?” moments. All in all, if you can get past the complete lack of a storyline, there are many amusing moments and diversions to be found in The Ghost Snatchers. Of course, for further Wong Jing hijinks in a skyscraper, be sure to check out High Risk with Jet Li and Jackie Cheung, released nine years later in 1995.

The American movie industry is in trouble. In a situation that increasingly mirrors that of Hong Kong’s cinema world, bootlegging and pirating practices are weakening box office performance and slowly killing Hollywood. At my job as a customer service rep for a video store, I’ve had a few customers tell me directly that they visit websites which allow them to view movies still in theaters for free on YouTube. I can only shake my head not only at the indirect implications of this practice (movie returns decreasing), but also at the direct detriment of the movie viewing experience caused by this “medium.” It may just be me, but if I really want to see a new movie, I’d rather pay $8.00 to see it on a huge screen with floor-shaking surround sound than watch it flicker in 320 x 240 resolution through the eyes of a shaky consumer camera for free. I realize, of course, that these are hard economic times, and not everyone has the disposable income to head to the theaters. Still, I only see about 10 or so movies in the theater a year (and that is a high estimate), and $80 spread over 365 days isn’t too hard on most wallets (that doesn’t factor in concessions, of course, but that’s completely optional anyway).

So what can Hollywood do to lure the American public back into the theaters? They can tweak the presentation of their films to create an even more immersive experience that bootleggers can’t replicate. To do that, the past few years have seen two trends reemerge: IMAX and 3D, both of which offer truer-to-life moviegoing. IMAX is somewhat difficult to implement; the bulkiness of the equipment (both for filming and for theater presentation) has so far prevented it from becoming the de facto standard for Hollywood filmmaking. IMAX theaters are becoming more prominent, but you will probably be out of luck if you don’t live close to a metropolis. Still, studios have begun remastering blockbusters for simultaneous presentation in normal theaters and IMAX theaters. Christopher Nolan even shot some scenes for The Dark Knight in the native IMAX format. Until a smaller and more efficient IMAX camera system is created, the only films shot completely for IMAX will continue to be documentaries, typically educational in nature. Every IMAX film I myself have seen fell under the “educational” category, as the only IMAX theater near me growing up was the Humphrey IMAX Dome Theater in the Milwaukee Public Museum (and as you can probably guess from the venue, they only show educational films).

Now showing at the Humphrey IMAX Theater: “NASCAR: The IMAX Experience”. Seriously.

So, the cheaper and less painful option is proving to be 3D. While 3D films in the past decade are now viewed as kitsch crap (let us remember such classics as Jaws 3D and Amityville 3D, the latter of which featured such horrific things as frisbees and boom mics being shoved into the faces of the audience), new films use the medium’s potential in more gratifying ways, rather than merely exploiting it as an advertising gimmick. And the technology has come a long way in the 21st century. I’m referring in particular to the RealD Cinema technology, the new standard of choice for movie studios. In comparison to”traditional” 3D systems, RealD reduces blurring (which occurs when the viewer’s head moves), decreases flickering, and only requires one projector (as opposed to two projectors running simultaneously).

Animation studios have been relatively quick to back the system (and in doing so, also the medium), and the recently-released film UP from Pixar marks their first feature crafted specifically for the RealD format. I first saw UP in 2D at the local Kerasotes theater with my mom. On an unrelated side-tangent, I would like to point out that Kerasotes seems to be trying with all of their might to inflict diabetes upon the general moviegoing population. They have a “combo meal” system set up for popcorn and drinks, where you can get two medium sodas and a large bucket of popcorn for a cheaper price than if you bought the aforementioned items separately. You can choose to “upgrade” your combo for more money, not unlike fast food restaurant practices. The difference is that Kerasotes’ five combo meals are all $11; the price change between them is only a few cents. So naturally, everyone who is getting a “combo meal” is going to go straight for the two extra large drinks and mega popcorn bucket. Even worse, they have unlimited refills on both soda and popcorn. This, combined with my lack of self-control, has led to me having a stomachache every time I leave the theater. But I digress…

UP, Pixar’s latest film, is, in my opinion, their magnum opus. I left the theater impressed by their ability to craft a story that can entertain both children and adults in equal measures simultaneously; this was the impression WALL-E had on me last year. While these two titles are great, I must admit that I don’t really care for the rest of Pixar’s filmography. Titles such as Toy Story, Monsters Inc., and Cars are rather standard kid’s fare, and I would like to think (and hope) that this was mostly due to Disney’s overbearing hand in Pixar’s early productions. Hopefully the relatively recent feud (and almost-breakup) between Disney and Pixar has scared Disney into giving the Pixar team greater autonomy. We all know that there is no creativity left in Disney’s own animation studios, who now resort to churning out direct-to-video sequels of old titles instead of creating new franchises.

After enjoying UP so much the first time, I knew that I had to take my experience with the film to the next level by seeing it in 3D. Luckily, at least one Marcus theater in Madison is equipped with a RealD projector, so my brother, my nephew, and I headed out one day to see it. Instead of the iconic red-and-blue specs, we were handed sunglasses with cartoonishly-rounded frames. When we sat down in our seats, I realized that I had not seen a 3D film since before I had glasses; in 2000, I saw Honey, I Shrunk The Audience and T-2 3D: Battle Across Time, and these were the only 3D attractions of any kind I had experienced. Thus, UP was not only my first time seeing a feature-length 3D film, but also the first time I had to figure out a way to watch a movie while wearing two different sets of eyewear at the same time. Eventually I somehow got them both positioned on my face comfortably. After being treated to some trailers which featured a plethora of random things “flying out” at the audience, the feature began, and things got decidedly less “in-your-face.”

UP refrains almost completely from using it’s allotted three dimensions to throw things at the audience. Instead, it offers the viewer a fake sensation of depth perception, so that you feel more like you’re watching a play than a movie. This is great because the film centers around South American scenery; cliffs, rainfalls, and forests are all gorgeously rendered and represented, and seeing the film in 3D greatly enhances the location. I read an interview with the creators of UP where they specifically pointed out that they wanted to avoid exploiting the 3D medium by constantly having things “pop out” of the screen. While I think it was a smart move on their part to avoid “cheapening” the film in this way, I also think that it’s alright to pepper a 3D film with props that penetrate the screen (and in a literal way, break the fourth wall). For one, the novelty of having things from a movie “enter” the theater and almost interact with the audience can greatly enhance a film and it’s message; you just have to make sure you have a story down first before you decide when and where to put these things in. I don’t believe a screenplay should ever be written that includes directions for where to employ 3D, much in the same way that writing a screenplay with camera directions is taboo in most screenwriting circles.

Another reason why I advocate using and abusing (within reason) the 3D format is because it’s a great way to combat piracy. While writing this post, I went to YouTube and relived Honey, I Shrunk The Audience in low-definition 2D. Even though I can’t recall my experience of seeing it in 3D, I can say with great certainty that it was probably very exciting in it’s native format, while in 2D it is most certainly not. I’m sure that the huge, imposing shrink ray machine being aimed directly at the audience makes for an unsettling but exhilarating viewing experience in three dimensions, but on YouTube it’s just another reason to look at the elapsed time of the film and sigh in boredom. My point is this: the more use you squeeze out of 3D, the less interesting the film will be when pirated in 2D. Sounds a bit detrimental to the home video market, doesn’t it? True, this mindset could potentially harm the viewing experience for people who are seeing the film after it’s theater release in legitimate ways (by buying or renting the DVD), but studios can also tweak the theater cut of a film before releasing it’s DVD and remove anything that would be extraneous in the eyes of a 2D viewer. Of course, utilizing double-sided discs, they can include both the original theater version and the home market version on the same DVD, so everybody wins, with the sole exception of the people pirating movies, who will lose. And frankly, it’s about time the pirates start losing again and Hollywood starts winning again.

A few days ago, I was with my friend Beth at a restaurant (that’s not us pictured above) and we were engaged in a conversation about what we had been up to lately; last week, she began working at a clothing store located within a mall in Madison. She said that there was little patronage in the store and the owners were quite lax about what their employees did while working. Being a hobbyist filmmaker, that struck me as an opportunity for a filming location. “Why would we film in the store?” she asked. I’m a Hong Kong cinema fanatic, and Hong Kong filmmakers are well versed in making virtually any location interesting on film. I figured this would be a good opportunity to try my hand at a similar practice.

I didn’t have to craft a story around the store. When I was a senior in high school, I had an independent study period where my goal was simply to produce some short films and music videos. Initially, I had planned on filming two separate stories: Hostile Takeover and Love In Translation. After writing and revising a script for a month, we managed to (sort of) film Hostile Takeover, the production of which was plagued with problems. Since that turned out to be such a headache, I scrapped the idea of completing Love In Translation before the end of the school year. In Hollywood, that would be called placing it in “development hell.” Two years later and my vision for a romantic comedy still hasn’t been realized.

Yes, Love In Translation, if you hadn’t already guessed by the title, is a romantic comedy. It is a bit strange that I’m trying to make one, being that I don’t care much for rom-coms (even those made in Hong Kong). I think that the genre is somewhat destructive from a social psychological perspective; I’ve met many a girl who has crafted her idea of relationships around the falsehoods propagated by these popcorn flicks. Not only are most romantic comedies formulaic, but the formula they all derive from is absurdly unrealistic. Probably the most horrifying experience I’ve had with them is the time that I went with some coworkers to see He’s Just Not That Into You at the movie theater. The underlying theme of the movie seemed to be that men are all assholes; every time this was brought to light saliently within the film, the women in the theater (that is, everyone in the theater besides me and my friend Dave) applauded wildly. I sunk into my chair.

Another message of the film was that “if a guy likes you, he’ll make it happen.” And if a guy doesn’t like you, he’ll like you eventually anyway. Huh? That’s not quite how things work in real life. Of course, movies are supposed to be escapist adventures from mundane life, but they should at least make it interesting. The combination of rom-com prophecy and romance self-help books is even more deadly. Books that claim to help one find romance are operating under the fallacy that every member of a particular sex can, and is to be, courted in the exact same way. Obviously that’s not true, and that’s why no one in a relationship got there by acting on advice from the printed page. On that note, however, I recommend checking out The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene, which is an interesting read, along with his other books.

So, because of my contention with romantic comedies, I’m not looking to any as a source of inspiration for my own movie. Instead, I’m trying to model my script on one of my all-time favorite films, Chungking Express by Wong Kar-Wai (pictured above). In some ways, I’d like to draw parallels between Madison and Hong Kong, and between the Midnight Express food stall in that film with our own clothing store location. When I’m planning a movie, I also try to pick out specific songs (which may or may not make it into the final cut) that illustrate specific moods I want to convey at certain points. When I was making Hostile Takeover, I was listening to a lot of Italian disco and Depeche Mode; the film ended up being set in the ’80s, and had a certain dark but cool vibe to it (that’s what I was going for, at least). And so, here are some preliminary tracks that I’ve had in mind for Love In Translation. Let your imagination run wild with them:

• Turn My Head by LIVE.
• First Of The Gang To Die by Morrissey.
• Language of Love by Dan Fogelberg.

Credit for the screenshot goes to LoveHKFilm.com.