014: goodnight moon, goodbye dragon inn
Last week, we talked about the state of cinema, so what is more appropriate than Tsai Ming Liang's Goodbye, Dragon Inn, one of my favorite films from one of my favorite directors.
But first, crabs.
I often think about carcinsation, the process in which different crustaceans keep evolving into crab-like beings. And I often think about the moon, how it creates the tides, a biological rhythm that affects all of us, but especially those in the intertidal zone. The ecosystem that exists between low and high tide, a constantly shifting space, between land and sea, dry and wet, out and in, a cosmic heartbeat. The organisms that live here thrive in change, because change is the only constant. And no animal has done it better than the crab.
Random fun fact, I got to introduce Tsai Ming Liang's The Hole to an audience for Doc Films way back in 2020, building up to a Tsai Ming Liang visit that didn't happen because if you check the date...
Anyways, Tsai Ming-Liang did end up coming in 2022, and I got to hear him speak!
In a midst of heavy downpour, a tourist seeks shelter in a rundown movie theater screening the wuxia classic, Dragon Inn. The movie theater acts as a shelter, literally shielding people from the heavy rain, but also metaphorically providing an alternative to reality. There are few patrons left in the decrepit theater, most attendee are preoccupied with things outside of what is transpiring on the screen, some are snacking, while others are wandering around anywhere—bathrooms, backrooms—but the actual screening room. Two elderly men are the exception, Jun Shi and Miao Tien, who were also main actors in the original Dragon Inn, watch their younger selves onscreen. The film preserves their youthfulness and what comes with it, a more glamorous age. The same can't be said about the theater itself, its grand size and array of red seating, are now echos of a bygone age. They are reminders of something grand, rather than the grand thing itself.