But then it would no longer be Sátántangó, just as doing likewise to Goodbye, Dragon Inn would effectively rob the film of its identity. In the only fast cut sequence in the film, the cashier is momentarily mesmerised by the fighting skills of the on-screen movie’s female action star Shangguan Lingfeng, the rapid back-and-forth cutting between the two hinting at the cashier’s dreams for life that fate has denied her. While there, I just had to pay this venue a visit and saw Fukasaku Kinji’s 1966 Hokkaido no Abare-Ryu – without the aid of English subtitles, no less – and was seriously impressed by the whole experience. Tsai talks about the genesis of the project, the real-life cinema that both inspired the film and became the location in which it was shot, his childhood of cinema-going and first exposure to the films of King Hu, the film’s cinematography and sound design, the Japanese fan of his work who ended up playing the young tourist in this film, how he revised Chen Hsiang-Chyi’s interpretation of her role at the cashier, and a good deal more. Goodbye, Dragon Inn ( Chinese: 不散) is a 2003 Taiwanese comedy-drama slow cinema film written and directed by Tsai Ming-liang about a movie theater about to close down and its final screening of the 1967 wuxia film Dragon Inn.

Gven how much of the film takes place in the dark, the clarity of the picture and detail is really impressive. Some will argue that the same could be said for anything approaching a story, at least in the traditional sense. It’s not hard to see parallels with the cinema of Béla Tarr, another filmmaker who favours lingering on images for far longer than conventional wisdom dictates, a technique that peaked in the seven-hour Sátántangó. Don't worry about spoilers (none here, but don't worry about others'), because not much happens in the movie. It’s also worth noting that not a lot happens during the course of that running time, at least in terms of on-screen action, and that the first line of dialogue doesn’t occur until just over 40 minutes into the film.That doesn’t mean I’ll like them, but I’ll certainly give the filmmaker credit for trying something that others might not even have considered. stereo soundtrack that I’m assuming is the truest to how the film originally played is partnered with a DTS-HD 5. The movie's point of view is variously that of the young limping woman, the Japanese kid, and the old actors, but ultimately, Tsai tells the story from the theater's point of view, as if he interviewed it Tsai-style, pointing the camera at it and letting the theater speak at its edificial pace. Presented here in a new digital restoration, Goodbye, Dragon Inn is more ravishing and hypnotic than ever. Anyone who had a special place for movies, especially if it's gone, will be able to see that theater in the Fu Ho.

As movie houses close and corporations dominate, the art form is at risk of changing beyond recognition. Reminded of the super-cinemas and the poetic King Hu films of his youth, he shot a scene in the theater and premiered the film there. Conducted in Taipei City in 2020, this hugely informative and engaging interview with director Tsai Ming-Liang is a first-rate companion to the film itself.After the premiere, Tsai approached the owner to shoot an entire film there, fearing the soon-to-close theater would be lost forever. I will admit that this last bit of information is not revealed by the film itself until its final scene, but I can’t see that doing so here is going to act as a spoiler because it’s been stated in every synopsis I’ve seen, including the one on the cover of this Blu-ray release from Second Run. This moving, deliberately slow paean to the faded splendor of old movie-palaces captures so much of what we love (and love to hate! The very definition of a film that will starkly divide opinion, Goodbye, Dragon Inn is likely to prove frustrating and unsatisfying viewing for some, but if you can adjust to its slow pace and fascination with stillness and small moments, then there’s a good chance it will really work for you.

the director-approved 1080p transfer on this Blu-ray has been sourced from a new 4K restoration, and the results are rather splendid, with a nicely balanced contrast range and solid black levels that only soften a tad in some darkest scenes so as not to crush the shadow detail.If you watched it and felt nothing but exasperation, as some definitely have, then you’re probably thinking that this would be a good thing.

Its simple, meticulously composed frames are full of mystery and feeling; it's an action movie that stands perfectly still. If you’re looking for a Taiwanese take on The Last Picture Show, however, you’ve come to the wrong film, as while there are indeed multiple characters to keep tabs on here, this is no coming-of-age story and there aren’t any real character arcs of note. Interestingly, it’s also nigh-on impossible to watch the sequence in which the woman starts uncontrollably coughing in this busy bus terminal in the current climate without seeing it as an albeit unintended trigger moment for a story about how easily Covid-19 can spread in a public place from a single carrier. There is, it turns out, a logical explanation for this (though not for how close the tourist gets to the man, which seems to be played more for comic effect) that is revealed only in the film’s touching final scenes.

I do, you see, get where those who dislike the film are coming from, and even I at times found myself quietly muttering “cut” during some of the longer held static shots. I’ve no doubt that an argument has been made that if that film was re-edited to bring the shot length down to a functional norm then it would probably run for only a couple of hours. J. Hoberman of The Village Voice also liked the film: "And because Tsai is the director, Goodbye, Dragon Inn is also a movie of elegant understatement and considerable formal intelligence.