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.
Last week the State Department made several small changes to its Web information on Taiwan. First, it removed a statement saying that the US “does not support Taiwan independence.” The current statement now reads: “We oppose any unilateral changes to the status quo from either side. We expect cross-strait differences to be resolved by peaceful means, free from coercion, in a manner acceptable to the people on both sides of the Strait.” In 2022 the administration of Joe Biden also removed that verbiage, but after a month of pressure from the People’s Republic of China (PRC), reinstated it. The American
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) legislative caucus convener Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) and some in the deep blue camp seem determined to ensure many of the recall campaigns against their lawmakers succeed. Widely known as the “King of Hualien,” Fu also appears to have become the king of the KMT. In theory, Legislative Speaker Han Kuo-yu (韓國瑜) outranks him, but Han is supposed to be even-handed in negotiations between party caucuses — the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) says he is not — and Fu has been outright ignoring Han. Party Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) isn’t taking the lead on anything while Fu
There is a Chinese Communist Party (CCP) plot to put millions at the mercy of the CCP using just released AI technology. This isn’t being overly dramatic. The speed at which AI is improving is exponential as AI improves itself, and we are unprepared for this because we have never experienced anything like this before. For example, a few months ago music videos made on home computers began appearing with AI-generated people and scenes in them that were pretty impressive, but the people would sprout extra arms and fingers, food would inexplicably fly off plates into mouths and text on
Feb 24 to March 2 It’s said that the entire nation came to a standstill every time The Scholar Swordsman (雲州大儒俠) appeared on television. Children skipped school, farmers left the fields and workers went home to watch their hero Shih Yen-wen (史艷文) rid the world of evil in the 30-minute daily glove puppetry show. Even those who didn’t speak Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) were hooked. Running from March 2, 1970 until the government banned it in 1974, the show made Shih a household name and breathed new life into the faltering traditional puppetry industry. It wasn’t the first
RSS