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)
NANCY JO IACOI/GALLERY STOCK
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There are only two rules for an evening drink: it must be bitter, and it must be cold

A Negroni is the aperitif of choice in bars everywhere from London to Palermo - and no wonder.

The aperitif has the odd distinction of being the only alcohol that can always rely on a sober audience: it is the opener, the stimulant, a spur to the appetite for good food and good conversation. This preparatory beverage is considered the height of sophistication, and certainly nobody labouring in field or factory ever required a pep to their evening appetite. Still, to take a drink before one starts drinking is hardly clever behaviour. So why do it?

One reason is surely the wish to separate the working day from the evening’s leisure, an increasingly pressing matter as we lose the ability to switch off. This may change the nature of the aperitif, which was generally supposed to be light, in alcohol and character. Once, one was expected to quaff a pre-dinner drink and go in to dine with faculties and taste buds intact; now, it might be more important for those who want an uninterrupted meal to get preprandially plastered. That way, your colleagues may contact you but they won’t get much sense out of you, and pretty soon they’ll give up and bother someone else.

The nicest thing about the aperitif, and the most dangerous, is that it doesn’t follow rules. It’s meant to be low in alcohol, but nobody ever accused a gin and tonic or a Negroni (Campari, gin and vermouth in equal portions) of that failing; and sherry, which is a fabulous aperitif (not least because you can keep drinking it until the meal or the bottle ends), has more degrees of alcohol than most wines. An aperitif should not be heavily perfumed or flavoured, for fear of spoiling your palate, yet some people love pastis, the French aniseed drink that goes cloudy in water, and that you can practically smell across the Channel. They say the scent actually enhances appetite.

Really only two rules apply. An aperitif should be bitter – or, at any rate, it shouldn’t be sweet, whatever the fans of red vermouth may tell you. And it must be cold. Warm drinks such as Cognac and port are for after dinner. Not for nothing did Édith Piaf warble, in “Mon apéro”, about drowning her amorous disappointments in aperitifs: fail to cool your passions before sharing a table, and you belong with the barbarians.

On the other hand, conversing with your nearest over a small snack and an appropriate beverage, beyond the office and before the courtesies and complications of the dinner table, is the essence of cultured behaviour. If, as is sometimes thought, civilisation has a pinnacle, surely it has a chilled apéro carefully balanced on top.

The received wisdom is that the French and Italians, with their apéritifs and aperitivos, are the experts in these kinds of drinks. Certainly the latter are partial to their Aperol spritzes, and the former to such horrid, wine-based tipples as Lillet and Dubonnet. But the English are good at gin and the Americans invented the Martini. As for Spain, tapas were originally snacks atop a covering that kept the flies out of one’s pre-dinner drink: tapa means lid.

Everywhere, it seems, as evening approaches, people crave a drink that in turn will make them salivate: bitterness, the experts tell us, prepares the mouth to welcome food. The word “bitter” may come from “bite”, in which case the aperitif’s place before dinner is assured.

I like to think that a good one enables the drinker to drown all sour feelings, and go in to dinner cleansed and purified. Fanciful, perhaps. But what better lure to fancy than a beverage that exists only to bring on the evening’s pleasures?

Nina Caplan is the Louis Roederer Pio Cesare Food and Wine Writer of the Year

Nina Caplan is the 2014 Fortnum & Mason Drink Writer of the Year and 2014 Louis Roederer International Wine Columnist of the Year for her columns on drink in the New Statesman. She tweets as @NinaCaplan.

This article first appeared in the 22 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times