There is nothing fancy about Wawa No Cidal (太陽的孩子). It tells the straightforward story of an Amis woman trying to re-cultivate the farmland in her ancestral village. As simple as the production is, the film is also one of the most genuine and sincere works of filmmaking that have come out this year. Directing duo Cheng Yu-chieh (鄭有傑) and Lekal Sumi turn their lens to an Amis village on Taiwan’s east coast, creating a heartfelt human drama tackling the issues that are very close to the heart of anyone who is concerned with what has happened to the country’s indigenous communities.
The film begins with Panay, played by Amis musician and TV host Ado Kaliting Pacidal, returning home to the Amis community Makutaay in Hualien County. Like most villagers, Panay works in the city, leaving her daughter Nakaw (Dongi Kacaw) and son Sera (Rahic Gulas) in the care of her father, played by village elder Kaco Lekal.
Her father’s recently diagnosed cancer, however, forces Panay to rethink her priorities. She quits her job and moves back to the village to care for her family. But she soon finds out that her home is not what it used to be.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing
For one thing, exploitative tourism has caused damage to the environment and disrupted the local way of life. Many villagers now make money by singing and dancing to the influx of Chinese visitors who bring trash, noise and traffic jams to the once tranquil hamlet by the sea. Meanwhile, the development frenzy grips the region as local authorities and big corporations join forces to build parks and resorts on Amis ancestral land.
In an effort to help villagers gain more sources of income, Panay explores the possibility of re-cultivating the tribal farmland that has lain fallow for years. Her plan elicits doubts and suspicion among residents, while local bureaucrats prefer to support big, lucrative development projects instead of spending a few bucks on fixing dilapidated irrigation canals.
Determined, Panay manages to get a small university research grant and successfully persuades villagers to work together to restore the terrace to its former glory. Rice grows, turning the field into a lush vista of verdant green.
But little do the villagers know that the developer, backed up by the police, has other plans in mind.
A sense of authenticity permeates Wawa No Cidal. The mostly non-professional actors are Amis who face the same real-life dilemma as the characters in the film. The directors tackle the complex problems facing Taiwan’s indigenous communities.
The level of eloquence and lucidity partially owes to young filmmaker Sumi. Having grown up in Tainan, the director has reportedly returned to Makutaay, the birthplace of his mother, to seek his indigenous roots. His experience is no doubt told through the character of Panay, who not only returns home to reconnect with her heritage but is driven to earn the acceptance and trust of her people.
Consequently, the film is mostly based on real events. One seemingly far-fetched sequence in the film, for example, refers to the controversy a few years ago in which the local government seized Aboriginal land in Makutaay because the township office managed to lose the documents concerning the villagers’ applications for registering their land as a reserve.
Despite a somewhat flawed narrative and low production values, Wawa No Cidal is recommended to anyone who wishes to gain a basic understanding of the issues facing the country’s indigenous communities.
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
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
Mirror mirror on the wall, what’s the fairest Disney live-action remake of them all? Wait, mirror. Hold on a second. Maybe choosing from the likes of Alice in Wonderland (2010), Mulan (2020) and The Lion King (2019) isn’t such a good idea. Mirror, on second thought, what’s on Netflix? Even the most devoted fans would have to acknowledge that these have not been the most illustrious illustrations of Disney magic. At their best (Pete’s Dragon? Cinderella?) they breathe life into old classics that could use a little updating. At their worst, well, blue Will Smith. Given the rapacious rate of remakes in modern