An adaptation of a short story from the classic Strange Stories From a Chinese Studio (聊齋誌異), a collection of supernatural tales by Qing Dynasty writer Pu Sungling (蒲松齡), Painted Skin (畫皮) is designed to be a blockbuster that appeals to all with a recipe of ghosts, kung fu and romance, a little comedy and an ensemble of Chinese A-listers including Zhao Wei (趙薇), Zhou Xun (周迅), Chen Kun (陳坤) and action superstar Donnie Yen (甄子丹).
The story begins with general Wang Sheng (Chen Kun) rescuing the charming young Xiaowei (Zhou Xun) from bandits in the desert. Trouble soon arises in Wang’s household as Xiaowei plots to take over as the new Mrs Wang and sows discord between the general and his demure wife, Peirong (Zhao Wei).
Jealous of her new maid, Peirong begins to suspect that Xiaowei may be responsible for a spate of gruesome killings that occurred upon her arrival and strives to reveal the vixen’s real identity: a fox spirit who has assumed human form and feeds on human hearts to maintain her youth and beauty.
Wang, who has erotic dreams involving Xiaowei, naturally wants to hear nothing of it. In despair, Peirong turns to Yong (Donnie Yen) for help. A former general himself and one-time rival of Wang for Peirong’s affections, Yong still carries a torch for the general’s wife.
With the help of bumbling demon buster Xia Bing (Betty Sun), Yong sets out to investigate Xiaowei and the series of murders in which the victims’ hearts have been ripped out. The drama that unfolds explores loyalty and temptation, unrequited desire and unconditional love.
With its narrative-driven, genre-meshing bent, Painted Skin recalls the greatly successful A Chinese Ghost Story (倩女幽魂) series from the late 1980s and early 1990s. The film is content to tell a melodramatic story laced with a bit of everything, and in so doing sets itself apart from the hollow epics that have plagued Chinese cinema in recent years.
Leading the action is Yen, engaging in a generic rooftop chase in the night, sword duels and a blurry desert battle that are well-executed but offer nothing new or exciting.
Yen delivers a refreshing change of pace from his usual onscreen persona as he takes up the role of comic relief together with Chinese actress Sun. Unintentionally amusing moments are provided by a murderous lizard demon, who also has a thing for Xiaowei, and, with his silver-highlighted hair, looks like a character from a computer game.
Painted Skin’s biggest drawback is its lack of well-developed romantic plots among its characters, especially the love triangle between Wang Sheng, Xiaowei and Peirong, which is the focal point of the narrative. Incredibly miscast, Chen lacks the intensity to play a husband torn between his devoted wife and a temptress, rendering a drama that is based on intricate emotions less convincing, a situation that is only worsened by a jerky script that fails to develop chemistry among the characters.
What impresses and engages are the performances by Zhou and Zhao. A versatile actress, Zhou is able to instill a fair dose of humanity into her role as the evil vixen, while Zhao shows composure as the loyal and modest wife.
Nov. 11 to Nov. 17 People may call Taipei a “living hell for pedestrians,” but back in the 1960s and 1970s, citizens were even discouraged from crossing major roads on foot. And there weren’t crosswalks or pedestrian signals at busy intersections. A 1978 editorial in the China Times (中國時報) reflected the government’s car-centric attitude: “Pedestrians too often risk their lives to compete with vehicles over road use instead of using an overpass. If they get hit by a car, who can they blame?” Taipei’s car traffic was growing exponentially during the 1960s, and along with it the frequency of accidents. The policy
Hourglass-shaped sex toys casually glide along a conveyor belt through an airy new store in Tokyo, the latest attempt by Japanese manufacturer Tenga to sell adult products without the shame that is often attached. At first glance it’s not even obvious that the sleek, colorful products on display are Japan’s favorite sex toys for men, but the store has drawn a stream of couples and tourists since opening this year. “Its openness surprised me,” said customer Masafumi Kawasaki, 45, “and made me a bit embarrassed that I’d had a ‘naughty’ image” of the company. I might have thought this was some kind
What first caught my eye when I entered the 921 Earthquake Museum was a yellow band running at an angle across the floor toward a pile of exposed soil. This marks the line where, in the early morning hours of Sept. 21, 1999, a massive magnitude 7.3 earthquake raised the earth over two meters along one side of the Chelungpu Fault (車籠埔斷層). The museum’s first gallery, named after this fault, takes visitors on a journey along its length, from the spot right in front of them, where the uplift is visible in the exposed soil, all the way to the farthest
The room glows vibrant pink, the floor flooded with hundreds of tiny pink marbles. As I approach the two chairs and a plush baroque sofa of matching fuchsia, what at first appears to be a scene of domestic bliss reveals itself to be anything but as gnarled metal nails and sharp spikes protrude from the cushions. An eerie cutout of a woman recoils into the armrest. This mixed-media installation captures generations of female anguish in Yun Suknam’s native South Korea, reflecting her observations and lived experience of the subjugated and serviceable housewife. The marbles are the mother’s sweat and tears,