Taciturn senior high school student Mingfong and his father, Hao-hsiang, live beside a busy railway line in Kaohsiung. Mingfong’s mother died a while ago, and the two eke out a humble living. The father is a low-rent removalist, but he gains solace from the fact that Mingfong is a good swimmer, and may have the ability to channel his own frustrated swimming ambitions by taking gold in the pool. To do so, Mingfong must beat 2 minutes and 20 seconds.
After a sympathetic opening scene, Hao-hsiang turns out to be quite oppressive, and the film quickly turns tedious, indicating that it has no clue what its market is. An inspirational saga about competitive swimming would have much more dynamic sports footage and a detailed rivalry between the hero and his nemesis (here, a swimming ace called the Frog King, who barely appears). A satisfying drama would have concentrated on character development and light and shade, not neurotic and repetitive lectures on winning medals. And a family film about the redemptive powers of a handicapped child (more on him in a moment) would have had a lot less weeping, screaming and cursing.
Deeply conservative, the screenplay jumps straight into manipulating Mingfong’s sense of guilt at his inertia, and then at the fate of both parents, while juxtaposing the “bad girls” that would tempt Mingfong from his path to sporting glory (they’re “bad” because they wear skimpy clothing and dance suggestively) against chaste “good girl” swimmer Hsiao-ping, who likes him. But the good girl turns out to be off to the US with her parents after finishing high school, anyway, so what good is she?
Like Mingfong’s father and his coach — a sympathetic character, but not without oppressive moments of his own — Hsiao-ping cannot understand why Mingfong is so sullen and unresponsive, and in a particularly grating sequence, this would-be girlfriend berates him for not being more open about his feelings. Poor Mingfong: The girl of his watery dreams is a tease waiting to join the ballbreaker queue.
Her pending departure doesn’t stop poor Mingfong from falling in like with her, yet even the childish expression of his desire at the climactic swim meet is so ineptly directed that it isn’t clear whether a roar of approval from the crowd is directed at the couple or at the next heat’s competitors.
The film’s pivotal moment appears out of nowhere. A child without lower legs (Chen Liang-da, 陳亮達) dives into a pool and races up and down without a care in the world. This is a real person playing himself, and he’s the most interesting thing in the movie; certainly, he belongs in a different movie.
Upon seeing this child, Mingfong wakes from his teen angst stupor and is inspired to be the best he can be. A Rocky-style training montage, botched by oblivious direction and editing, puts Mingfong back on the road to success, which not even a jealous bully and a nasty leg wound can derail. But the glory is anticlimactic: The all-important race comes across as a heat — until the race is won. Whoops, that was the final?
More’s the pity. Hsueh Yu-ting (薛宇庭), as Mingfong, has appeal, but his portrayal is trapped between sulking and unappealing outbursts. Lacking wit, warmth and smarts, he is never given a chance to win over the audience. Other actors try hard enough, but it’s hard to escape the feeling that they knew this film — heavily supported by local government — is as low-rent as Mingfong’s father.
The highly regarded Gerald Shih (史擷詠) wrote the film’s score. In 02’20’’, however, the music is lamentable. Seemingly aware that director Hsueh Shao-hsuan (薛少軒) cannot sustain mood or interest in the characters, the soundtrack punctuates scene after scene with overpowering filler. When the director “guaranteed” at a press conference that the audience would cry, presumably he wasn’t referring to his composer’s hits to the solar plexus.
That US assistance was a model for Taiwan’s spectacular development success was early recognized by policymakers and analysts. In a report to the US Congress for the fiscal year 1962, former President John F. Kennedy noted Taiwan’s “rapid economic growth,” was “producing a substantial net gain in living.” Kennedy had a stake in Taiwan’s achievements and the US’ official development assistance (ODA) in general: In September 1961, his entreaty to make the 1960s a “decade of development,” and an accompanying proposal for dedicated legislation to this end, had been formalized by congressional passage of the Foreign Assistance Act. Two
President William Lai’s (賴清德) March 13 national security speech marked a turning point. He signaled that the government was finally getting serious about a whole-of-society approach to defending the nation. The presidential office summarized his speech succinctly: “President Lai introduced 17 major strategies to respond to five major national security and united front threats Taiwan now faces: China’s threat to national sovereignty, its threats from infiltration and espionage activities targeting Taiwan’s military, its threats aimed at obscuring the national identity of the people of Taiwan, its threats from united front infiltration into Taiwanese society through cross-strait exchanges, and its threats from
Despite the intense sunshine, we were hardly breaking a sweat as we cruised along the flat, dedicated bike lane, well protected from the heat by a canopy of trees. The electric assist on the bikes likely made a difference, too. Far removed from the bustle and noise of the Taichung traffic, we admired the serene rural scenery, making our way over rivers, alongside rice paddies and through pear orchards. Our route for the day covered two bike paths that connect in Fengyuan District (豐原) and are best done together. The Hou-Feng Bike Path (后豐鐵馬道) runs southward from Houli District (后里) while the
March 31 to April 6 On May 13, 1950, National Taiwan University Hospital otolaryngologist Su You-peng (蘇友鵬) was summoned to the director’s office. He thought someone had complained about him practicing the violin at night, but when he entered the room, he knew something was terribly wrong. He saw several burly men who appeared to be government secret agents, and three other resident doctors: internist Hsu Chiang (許強), dermatologist Hu Pao-chen (胡寶珍) and ophthalmologist Hu Hsin-lin (胡鑫麟). They were handcuffed, herded onto two jeeps and taken to the Secrecy Bureau (保密局) for questioning. Su was still in his doctor’s robes at
RSS