Director Wei Te-sheng (魏德聖) was 25 when he stepped into the movie business wanting to tell good stories. For the following 14 years, he worked with masters such as Edward Yang (楊德昌) and Chen Kuo-fu (陳國富), and is best known as the wild man who took NT$2.5 million out of his own pocket to make a five-minute demo in a bid to attract investors for his yet-to-materialize epic about the Seediq Aborigines and their anti-Japanese revolt in 1930.
Wei has put himself further into debt, this time to the tune of NT$30 million, to make Cape No. 7 (海角七號), his feature film debut. If nothing else, it is likely to establish him as a more than competent storyteller and maker of warmhearted movies.
The story goes something like this: 60 years ago, a Japanese teacher was forced to leave his Taiwanese lover in the town of Hengchun (恆春) when the repatriation of Japanese nationals began following the end of Word War II. Back at home he wrote a letter each day to the lover he would never see again.
Sixty years on, a young man named Aga (Van Fan) returns home to Hengchun after his dream of becoming a rock musician in Taipei falls flat. Reluctantly, Aga takes up a job as a substitute for Uncle Mao (Lin Tsung-ren) after the old postman breaks his leg.
Equally reluctantly, Tomoko (Tanaka Chie) from Japan is asked to stay in Hengchun to supervise a warm-up act scraped together at the last minute for an upcoming concert by Japanese superstar Kousuke Atari. The newly enlisted band members seem, however, less than promising: the reckless Aga, hot-tempered Aboriginal policeman Laoma (Min-Hsiung), auto mechanic Frog (Clipper Xiao Ying) who has a thing for his big-breasted lady boss, elementary school student Dada (Mai Tzu), and Uncle Mao, a yueqin (月琴) master.
With the concert just three days away, Uncle Mao is still having a hard time figuring out how to pluck his bass. Aga has yet to write something for the band to play. In fact, the band looks verge of breaking up even before its first gig. There is also the parcel of letters, posted 60 years ago, which Aga is not able to deliver, as the mailing address no longer exists. Amid all of this, a romance begins to bud between Aga and Tomoko.
Though the narration feels forced and stretched at times, Wei does a commendable job weaving together stories of characters from different generations and diverse ethnic and social backgrounds. He has a fine command of the vernacular and the troupe of musicians, including pop singer Van Fan, Aboriginal crooner Min-Hsiung, indie musicians Clipper Xiao Ying and Ma Nien-hsien, and real-life beiguan (北管) wizard Lin Tsung-ren, share an explosive onscreen chemistry. The weakest link is the romance between Aga and Tomoko. Although Van Fan is reasonably charming as the reticent, bitter teenager Aga, Tanaka Chie is excessively irritated and grouchy, so that even a night of intimacy fails to make the pair into plausible lovebirds.
Japan is celebrated for its exceptional levels of customer service. But the behavior of a growing number of customers and clients leaves a lot to be desired. The rise of the abusive consumer has prompted authorities in Tokyo to introduce the country’s first ordinance — a locally approved regulation — to protect service industry staff from kasuhara — the Japanese abbreviated form of “customer harassment.” While the Tokyo ordinance, which will go into effect in April, does not carry penalties, experts hope the move will highlight a growing social problem and, perhaps, encourage people to think twice before taking out their frustrations
There is perhaps no better way to soak up the last of Taipei’s balmy evenings than dining al fresco at La Piada with a sundowner Aperol Spritz and a luxuriant plate of charcuterie. La Piada (義式薄餅) is the brainchild of Milano native William Di Nardo. Tucked into an unassuming apartment complex, fairy lights and wining diners lead the way to this charming slice of laid-back Mediterranean deli culture. Taipei is entirely saturated with Italian cuisine, but La Piada offers something otherwise unseen on the island. Piadina Romagnola: a northern Italian street food classic. These handheld flatbreads are stuffed with cold
Oct. 14 to Oct. 20 After working above ground for two years, Chang Kui (張桂) entered the Yamamoto coal mine for the first time, age 16. It was 1943, and because many men had joined the war effort, an increasing number of women went underground to take over the physically grueling and dangerous work. “As soon as the carts arrived, I climbed on for the sake of earning money; I didn’t even feel scared,” Chang tells her granddaughter Tai Po-fen (戴伯芬) in The last female miner: The story of Chang Kui (末代女礦工: 張桂故事), which can be found on the Frontline
In the tourism desert that is most of Changhua County, at least one place stands out as a remarkable exception: one of Taiwan’s earliest Han Chinese settlements, Lukang. Packed with temples and restored buildings showcasing different eras in Taiwan’s settlement history, the downtown area is best explored on foot. As you make your way through winding narrow alleys where even Taiwanese scooters seldom pass, you are sure to come across surprise after surprise. The old Taisugar railway station is a good jumping-off point for a walking tour of downtown Lukang. Though the interior is not open to the public, the exterior