Asia in the movies

The 2013 Pan-Asia Film Festival.

The Pan-Asia Film Festival, now in its fifth year, starts this Wednesday (6 March). The festival seeks to showcase Asia’s most exciting new cinematic productions, spanning countries from Japan to Iran. 

There are 12 films competing for the Inaugural Best Film Award. From satires and horror films, shorts to animation, festival director Sumantro Ghose, along with guest judges Nikki Bedi and Hardeep Singh Kohli, will have a challenging decision on their hands.

Some highlights

Taiwanese director Yang Ya-Che takes the all too familiar love triangle in a new direction in his 105 minute film GF*BF(2012). Set in Taiwan, and focusing on the democracy movement of the 1980s and 1990s - a period of immense social and political transformation - protagonists Mabel, Aaron and Liam’s shifting emotional loyalties form the basis of a complex and ambitious plot. GF*BF transports us to selected chunks of this decade in an attempt to convey the entanglement of political transformation and personal development. GF*BF  has been chosen for the opening night gala held at Cineworld Haymarket in London (Wednesday 6 March, 6.30pm).  

From Iran comes Nahid Ghobadi and Bijan Zamanpira’s satirical debut feature 111 Girls (2012) which describes the journey of an Iranian diplomat to Kurdistan after receiving a letter threatening the suicide of 111 young women in protest at conditions in their village which have rendered them spinsters. With their fathers and brothers having either died or disappeared, and suitable men hard to come by, these women address the president with a four-day ultimatum stating they will jump to their death unless provided with an eligible suitor. The eccentric premise of this film is inspired by Kurdistan’s present situation. It is characterised by notably powerful visual imagery, shifting from dreamlike sequences to Beckett-esque dark humour. 111 Girls will premiere at Cine Lumiere in London on Wednesday 13 March at 8.30pm.

Thailand’s  Pen-ek Ratnaruang has devised a unique fusion of spirituality and film noir thriller in his film Headshot (2011). Based on the story of an honest policeman turned angel of vengeance, the film follows his quest to balance society’s moral compass. An accident during an altercation leaves the protagonist literally seeing the world upside down. The unique camera positioning used to elucidate the result of the accident is an effective vehicle for combining Buddhist themes of karma, rebirth and redemption with stylistic film noir tropes of spatial disorientation and a stark contrast between light and shadow.  Headshot is showing at  the ICA in London on Tuesday 12 March at 8.30pm.

A selection of short films from Hong Kong’s Fresh Wave Film Festival – a centre for cutting-edge film production – will also be shown for the first time on London’s screens under the title Fresh Wave Shorts. Fresh Wave Shorts will be screened at the ICA on Thursday14  March at 6.30pm.

Taiwanese director Yang Ya-Che (Photo: Getty Images)
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For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood