Orz Boyz (囧男孩), a feature debut by award-winning playwright, novelist and director Yang Ya-che (楊雅吉吉), tackles a genre not much favored in Taiwanese cinema — children’s film. With witty dialogue, an affectionate mood and two untutored child actors, his effort is a triumph that can be enjoyed by children and adults alike.
The film tells a bittersweet tale about two best friends in elementary school. Branded as the school’s biggest troublemakers, the two friends, Liar No. 2 (played by Pan Chin-yu) and older classmate Liar No. 1 (played by Li Kuan-i), are inseparable. Together they tease girls, play pranks on classmates, summon imaginary ghosts, and more. Their teacher, unable to cope, sends them to the library to repair books every day. Instead of fixing books, the more literate No. 1 becomes a great storyteller, reading stories to his one-man audience, No. 2. Their imaginations run wild, allowing the two to escape from their troubled home lives.
The friends decide to save money to go to a water park together. The spiral waterslide at the park, as they believe, is a portal to Oz, a wonderland where children turn instantly into adults and live happily ever after.
Competently scripted and directed, the film doesn’t rely on expensive CGI effects to recreate the fantastic world of childhood. Instead, the children’s whimsical cosmos is brought to life through innocent escapades and imaginative games. Hints are given of the boys’ difficult family situations to build up psychological depth. The audience gradually learns that No. 2 and his baby cousin are being raised by their elderly grandmother and that No. 1 lives in a shack on a bend of the Tamsui River with his mentally disturbed father.
By alternating the boys’ lives with charming animation sequences inspired by Oscar Wilde’s The Happy Prince and the Brothers Grimm’s Pied Piper of Hamelin, Yang ingeniously leaves room for the audience to reflect and reminisce on fragments of their own memories. Animator Fish’s contribution to the film is worth a special mention for his work in realizing a dreamy Taiwanese cityscape lit by neon signs and filled with concrete buildings, above which the Happy Prince stands.
But it is the two child actors who are the real stars of the show and give the film its special glow. Though neither has been formally trained in acting, they are as natural as the most experienced veterans and share amazing onscreen chemistry. Comedians by nature, they create some of the film’s most hilarious moments with veteran actress Mei Fang (梅芳), whose grandmother character is arguably the most lovable adult role seen on the big screen in years.
Orz Boyz (囧男孩) proves that with a well-written story and strong cast, local productions can be more attractive than Hollywood blockbusters, for here are familiar scenes of traditional markets, street life and school life, grandparent figures and childhood memories that speak directly to a local audience.
In 2020, a labor attache from the Philippines in Taipei sent a letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs demanding that a Filipina worker accused of “cyber-libel” against then-president Rodrigo Duterte be deported. A press release from the Philippines office from the attache accused the woman of “using several social media accounts” to “discredit and malign the President and destabilize the government.” The attache also claimed that the woman had broken Taiwan’s laws. The government responded that she had broken no laws, and that all foreign workers were treated the same as Taiwan citizens and that “their rights are protected,
A white horse stark against a black beach. A family pushes a car through floodwaters in Chiayi County. People play on a beach in Pingtung County, as a nuclear power plant looms in the background. These are just some of the powerful images on display as part of Shen Chao-liang’s (沈昭良) Drifting (Overture) exhibition, currently on display at AKI Gallery in Taipei. For the first time in Shen’s decorated career, his photography seeks to speak to broader, multi-layered issues within the fabric of Taiwanese society. The photographs look towards history, national identity, ecological changes and more to create a collection of images
March 16 to March 22 In just a year, Liu Ching-hsiang (劉清香) went from Taiwanese opera performer to arguably Taiwan’s first pop superstar, pumping out hits that captivated the Japanese colony under the moniker Chun-chun (純純). Last week’s Taiwan in Time explored how the Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) theme song for the Chinese silent movie The Peach Girl (桃花泣血記) unexpectedly became the first smash hit after the film’s Taipei premiere in March 1932, in part due to aggressive promotion on the streets. Seeing an opportunity, Columbia Records’ (affiliated with the US entity) Taiwan director Shojiro Kashino asked Liu, who had
A series of dramatic news items dropped last month that shed light on Chinese Communist Party (CCP) attitudes towards three candidates for last year’s presidential election: Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) founder Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), Terry Gou (郭台銘), founder of Hon Hai Precision Industry Co (鴻海精密), also known as Foxconn Technology Group (富士康科技集團), and New Taipei City Mayor Hou You-yi (侯友宜) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT). It also revealed deep blue support for Ko and Gou from inside the KMT, how they interacted with the CCP and alleged election interference involving NT$100 million (US$3.05 million) or more raised by the