Drive (드라이브, Park Dong-hee, 2023)

“Be sincere if you want other people’s money” an influencer is told during a contract negotiation, but as she’s forced to admit in Park Dong-hee’s tense kidnap thriller Drive (드라이브) her whole world is hollow. Even so, sincerity was it seems something people wanted from her and tragically did not get, though for others what undoubtedly sells is a fantasy life of “easy” money and total independence free from an oppressive work culture if not quite from the patriarchal society. 

An opening sequence charts the gradual evolution of Yuna (Park Ju-Hyun) from shy young woman venturing into streaming to rising star of the online world. As someone points out she’s good at negotiating though is prepared to screw over even those closest to her in the hope of advancement while indulging in underhanded tactics such as encouraging companies to break contracts with other streamers with the promise of covering their damages. She’s also secretly plotting to throw over her long time manager and join a large media conglomerate even if, as it turns out, the boss is about to make her an indecent proposal. 

Yet the truth she’s confronted with after being kidnapped is that none of it’s quite real. She doesn’t actually have vast wealth, nothing really belongs to her but is merely on loan to use as endorsements. Stuffing her in the boot of her own car, the kidnapper asks for a million won which Yuna can’t pay leading them to force her to livestream her own kidnapping and hopefully earn the remainder of the money from her adoring fans. The problem is that no one really believes she has actually been kidnapped. Everyone assumes it’s a publicity stunt while the kidnapper tells her if she doesn’t get the money she’ll be driven into a scrapyard and never seen again. 

Now dependent on her “fans” whom she had previously described as “creeps”, Yuna is repeatedly told to reveal her real self. The boot of the car becomes a kind of purgatorial space, Yuna later coming to the realisation that the reason she’s not been able to escape is that she has not yet succeeded embracing herself as she is. Her YouTube persona is constructed as much for herself as others, to protect herself from unpleasantness or the stigma of being unsuccessful. She invents a life for herself as the daughter of a businessman who took his own life after his business failed, but prides herself on being a good businesswoman even if that means some underhanded tactics but then she’s not the only one playing dirty in the influencer game.

Yuna certainly has a “drive” to succeed, but the paradox lies in the enigma of the degree to which people, including herself, expect or deflect sincerity. Some obviously crave it, desperate to believe that Yuna really is their friend who cares for them deeply while others want the exact opposite, a hollow figure onto which they can project their image of contemporary success and fantasy of living the high life. It seems that success has made Yuna less forgiving, adopting a haughty attitude and frequently dismissing those around her. If she wants to get out of the boot, she’s going to have to face her authentic self finally looking at her own reflection in the blank screen of a tablet long after the stream has ended. 

The kidnapper challenges her to debase herself, asking how far she’ll go to save her life but equally if her “fans” are willing to pay to save her while other streamers later get in on the action too, mainly getting in the way and willing to endanger Yuna’s survival for their own livelihood. In someways exposing the hollow artifice of influencer culture, the film eventually pulls back to ask if it isn’t a frustrated desire for connection fuelled by those who long to be seen and are in effect attempting to fill an emotional void with the quantifiable love of an online following. At the peak of her success, Yuna realises her time may be ending as young stars creep up behind her and she has to run to stay in the game but in the end can no longer run from herself or the hollowness of her life whether she really does end up on the scrap heap of contemporary culture or not. 


Drive screens in Chicago Oct.7 as part of the 17th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema 

International trailer (English subtitles)

The Best is Yet to Come (不止不休, Wang Jing, 2020)

A man denied a fair chance in life because of his impoverished background comes to identify with the plight of those carrying the hepatitis B virus in Wang Jing’s true life drama, The Best is Yet to Come (不止不休, bùzhǐ bùxiū). Inspired by the story of Han Fudong, a journalist who exposed the societal prejudice against those with a previous diagnosis of the disease, the film’s Chinese title “no pause no rest” makes clear how tirelessly he strived to reveal the truth even at the potential cost of destroying his dream of becoming a professional reporter. 

Han Dong (Bai-Ke) came to Beijing in 2003 in the hope of landing a job at a paper, but just like everywhere else journalism is a largely closed profession almost impossible to break into without elite qualifications and connections. At a jobs fair, Han Dong tries to pass off his reluctance to hand over a CV as a recruitment tactic to get people to remember him, circulating copies of his portfolio instead though recruiters quickly lose interest on realising they are all self-published articles posted online. Once he admits that he only finished middle school, it’s game over no matter how talented a writer and investigator he may turn out to be. 

It’s this sense of unfairness, of being turned away on the grounds of a few words on a piece of paper that eventually leads him to sympathise with those carrying the hepatitis B virus after investigating a company that claims it buys blood, discovering that they provide a service helping people to forge health certificates for job and school applications. Vox pop-style interviews recreated in the manner of the time feature several people describing the various ways their lives have been ruined simply because they happen to carry the virus, many of them infected since birth or early childhood. One man has been trying to apply for jobs and graduate schools for several years but finds the offers are always withdrawn after the health screening, while another woman recounts that her fiancé cancelled their engagement because his family could not accept someone with hepatitis B. 

This is also in the immediate aftermath of the SARS epidemic which perhaps caused a preoccupation with infectious disease which may be largely unfounded in the relative difficulty of passing on the hepatitis B virus. After landing a golden opportunity of an unpaid internship compensated only with 50% article fees, Han Dong finds himself conflicted. He knows the forgery operation is illegal and a threat to public health, but also cannot blame the people who make use of it when their lives have been rendered so impossible that is difficult for them simply to live. An early assignment had seen him cover a mine collapse and witness a destraught mother bounced into accepting compensation for her son’s death while shouted at by the foreman (played by film director Jia Zhangke who also produced) for having the temerity to ask to see his body. Han Dong got a front-page byline as co-author with his mentor figure, Huang (Zhang Songwen), but wonders what the point is if nothing ever changes and the truth is not enough on its own. 

For obvious reasons, films about crusading journalists are rare in Chinese cinema given that whistleblowing is not regarded as a virtue and those who try to expose wrongdoing are often shouted down or hounded into silence as seen with the doctor who drew attention to the poor medical practices in rural blood clinics that caused an HIV epidemic in farming communities, and most recently with the physician who tried to raise awareness of the new respiratory illness that later developed into a global pandemic. Journalists who report problematic stories can also find themselves facing prosecution and imprisonment. Han Fudong’s writings did however lead to an eventual change in the law and the destigmatisation of hepatitis B while he himself overcame the educational elitism of the contemporary society to achieve his dreams of becoming a professional reporter. As such, Wang’s dramatisation of his life may be in a way subversive if subtly so in hinting at a greater role for a currently not so free press in the modern China while also embracing a central philosophy that one need not simply accept an unacceptable status quo but actively reject and challenge it and that by doing so something might actually change. 


The Best is Yet to Come screens in Chicago Sept. 30 as part of the 17th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema 

International trailer (English subtitles)

Seven Days in Heaven (父後七日, Essay Liu & Wang Yu-Lin, 2010)

A young woman embarks on what she describes as the most ridiculous journey of her life after her father passes away and she must return to her hometown for a series of incredibly involved traditional funeral rites in Essay Liu and Wang Yu-Lin ’s lighthearted drama Seven Days in Heaven (父後七日, fù hòu qī rì). Perhaps the intent is more to keep the mourners occupied in a slow burn dissolve of their grief than it is to console a parting soul but in any case Mei finds herself meditating on the past and her already fading memories of her late father. 

The strangeness begins at the hospital where Mei (Wang Li-Wen) and her brother Da-zhi (Chen Cha-Shiang) are repeatedly asked to explain to their father, who has just died, that they are taking him home. In the transport ambulance they ask if the family is Buddhist or Christian, and then simplify the question to whether they use incense sticks when a confused Mei is uncertain how to answer though as it turns out the rites they will be performing are largely Taoist. Anyway, the driver accidentally puts in the wrong tape and they get a blast of the Hallelujah chorus before he switches over to a series of sutras instead. A similar confusion sets in once they arrive back at the house where the funeral is being managed by a distant relative who works as a Taoist priest performing rituals largely concerned with death. 

A running gag sees these familial relationships so tangled that they need lengthy explanations, Yi (Wu Peng-Fong) the priest explaining to Mei’s cousin Zhuang (Chen Tai-hua) that he should have been calling him “brother” and not “uncle” while as it turns out Yi still carries a torch for Zhuang’s mother, Feng (Angie Wang), who left him to work in another town and married a wealthy man. Currently in Paris, she does not return for her father’s funeral and sends her son instead who is equally mystified by these strange rituals and decides to film them as part of a university project. 

Yi consults some religious calendars and schedules the days of the funeral accordingly from when they close the coffin to when they conduct the final rites with Mei and Da-zhi merely expected to keep up. A detached Mei explains that as the daughter she’s explicitly instructed when to cry and when not to, forced to run in and wail by the coffin on cue. Yi’s partner, Chin (Chang Shih-Ying), herself works as a professional mourner wailing on the behalf of others merely altering the identity of the deceased but in this case the siblings are alternately bored and run ragged, possibly too exhausted by the process of mourning to fully process their grief. 

Zhuang’s film exposes the labour involved as he closes in Da-zhi explaining that he has to sweep up the ashes from the burning of ghost money. He asks him how he feels about his father’s death which might in itself be a little insensitive especially while pointing a camera in his face and he snaps back that he doesn’t know. Mei meanwhile is repeatedly drawn back to memories of her father, picking out a picture of him singing karaoke for the altar only to be told off by the older relatives. Zhuang eventually photoshops it to replace the mic with flowers and the background with a more appropriate scene of mountains and rivers. She doesn’t tell her friends her father passed away until months later and still finds herself forgetting, brought to tears on accidentally reminding herself to pick up some “longevity” cigarettes for him on a trip back from abroad only to realise there’s no need anymore. “Please stow your emotions” she imagines hearing the captain say in her father’s voice as she strives to accommodate her grief. 

Filled with a series of humorous digressions from Yi’s love life and their late father’s ability to charm his nurses even at death’s door, the film paints a warm and nostalgic portrait of small-town life and the various rituals that go along with it, including a small tangent on political corruption as a host of politicians are obliged to attend the funeral, because of the aforementioned ill-defined familial relationships, and send elaborate gifts including a large tower of beer cans that later collapses and requires even more tiding up. Finally the siblings must burn their mourning clothes as if symbolically moving on from their seven says in “heaven” and returning to their everyday lives but discover perhaps that grief is an ongoing process the rituals of which may continue long after the funeral is finished.


Seven Days in Heaven is available to stream in the US Sept. 25 to Oct.1 as part of the 17th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema.

Trailer (English subtitles)

Harvest Moon (Эргэж ирэхгүй намар, Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam, 2022)

A young man who left for the city is forced to reckon with his childhood self and the nature of paternity when called back to his rural home in Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam’s touching directorial debut Harvest Moon (Эргэж ирэхгүй намар). The melancholy title may hint at the short-lived nature of the central relationship but also reflects the slowly disappearing traditional culture of the Mongolian Steppe and the loneliness of those who find themselves in one way or another orphaned amid its vast and empty landscapes.

Tulgaa’s (Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam) dilemma is that he’s just received a voice message from a woman he’s been seeing explaining that she has a son she had not previously disclosed and wants to know if it’s a dealbreaker before the relationship becomes more serious. Meanwhile, he receives a call from his home village letting him know that the man who raised him, but was not actually his biological father, has been taken ill and may be close to death. Though reluctant, Tulgaa begins the long journey to say goodbye and then finds himself agreeing to stay a little longer to finish his father’s last harvest. 

While there, he meets a little boy, Tuntuulei (Tenuun-Erdene Garamkhand), who is like he was a child without a father though currently living with elderly grandparents while his mother works in the city. Older than his years, Tuntuulei too is bullied and ostracised by the other villagers who gossip and disapprove of the manner of his birth which apparently occurred after a one night stand. Neither Tulgaa nor Tuntuulei ever knew their biological fathers and are each looking for something to soothe their loneliness, eventually developing paternal relationship even in the knowledge that Tulgaa will return to the city once the harvest is done whether or not he eventually decides to accept becoming a father to his girlfriend’s son. 

In many ways Tulgaa is bonding with his childhood self and processing his paternal anxieties through the lonely, abandoned child he once was which is perhaps a little unfair given that he essentially taking a test run with Tuntuulei in preparation for becoming another boy’s father. Tuntuulei’s grandparents meanwhile contemplate sending him to the city to be with his mother, conscious that he’s bored with only the elderly couple for company and takes no interest in schooling. Tulgaa’s discovery that the boy cannot read provokes a rift between them in his insensitive reaction though Tuntuulei has already taught him a series of essential life skills for living on the Steppe from fishing to how to salve the blisters on his hands from cutting grass with a scythe. Tulgaa’s father had finally accepted that there was nothing he could have done to prevent him from leaving, but Tuntuulei seems so perfectly in tune with this landscape that it may not be possible for him to find happiness in the city even as this way of life continues to decline with other youngsters increasingly choosing urban civility over nomadic freedom.

As Tulgaa is eventually told, the age of harvesting by hand may be over as his stay in the village is quite literally cut short leaving Tuntuulei all alone a tiny figure amid heaps of drying grass. The once verdant field now seems sad and empty, a sign that autumn has arrived and not only for the two men but for the village as a whole. The film had opened with a group of men desperately trying to get a phone signal by attaching a mobile to a pole and standing on a horse, shouting up at the receiver and barely able to understand the reply. Tuntuulei suggests building tower so people could climb up and make a call whenever they want which in part symbolises his own desire for connection along with the community’s isolation from the outside world. But when he tries to use it himself he discovers only disappointment. After all this effort, his mother is too busy to speak to him and blithely asks that he call back later cruelly crushing his fantasy of being able to contact someone any time he wants and reinforcing his sense of aloneness. Even so through his relationship with Tulgaa who is after all an older version of himself he is able to find another connection which may endure even in its absence. Beautifully lensed to take advantage of the majesty of the Mongolian landscape, Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam’s poetic debut is a quietly affecting affair in its own way melancholy but also filled with warmth and a sense of future possibility.


Harvest Moon screens in Chicago Sept. 23 as part of the 17th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema where Pinnacle Career Achievement honouree Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam is scheduled to attend the award ceremony before the film and Q&A after.  

Original trailer (English subtitles)

Stand Up Story (說笑之人, Amen Au Cheuk-man, 2023)

A lost young man tries to turn his grief into laughter while realising he might have more in common with his ageing father than he first assumed in Amen Au Cheuk-man’s poignant drama, Stand Up Story (說笑之人). Partially an exploration of the marginalisation of those with disabilities, the film is also a gentle tale of learning to stand up for one’s self and one’s family while gaining the courage to follow your dreams rather than holding back in fear of failure. 

Manny’s (Ng Siu-Hin) dreams lie in stand up comedy, but he struggles to convince his father, who has learning difficulties due to a childhood illness, that telling jokes can be a real job. Wah (Ben Yuen Foo-Wa) raised him alone after the woman he married left the family once her Hong Kong residency was confirmed leaving them both with a sense of absence and lingering feeling of lonely abandonment. Though his father was very excited his son has graduated university, Manny is working as a delivery driver while floundering for direction half-heartedly pursuing standup but lacking the confidence to jump in and try it full-time while also unwilling to look for a steadier job because it would mean giving up on comedy.

As the former headmaster who employs him at his restaurant after he retires from his job as a high school janitor suggests Wah is also lacking in confidence and afraid to try new things in part because of his insecurity as someone with learning difficulties who may have encountered impatience and anger in the past. Though he manages well enough on his own, Wah has experienced prejudice and discrimination all his life and has made himself smaller because of it. Always cheerful he does his best to be useful and help others where he can even if they sometimes take advantage of him accidentally or otherwise like the thoughtless Fourth Auntie who gets him to do a lot her work for her and place bets on her behalf pledging to chip in with her share of the money if they win. 

Manny is quick to warn him about such people, but as the master suggests may also be guilty of underestimating his father while insensitive to his fear of loneliness. As a teenager, Manny had also been somewhat embarrassed by his father and did little to defend him when the other kids at school made of him. He also doesn’t invite him to his university graduation despite the excitement that has already seen Wah buy a new suit for the occasion. In a moment of anger he expresses his resentment, exclaiming that he feels trapped in their claustrophobic apartment and is fearful that he’ll stuck there forever but of course regrets it realising how much he’s hurt Wah’s feelings in the knowledge of how difficult his life has been raising him as a single father on a janitor’s salary. 

The irony is that Wah had wanted his son to become a teacher, a respectable, steady job he has a particular respect for because of the support he received from the headmaster, but becomes a kind of teacher himself albeit wordlessly. Manny can only progress his comedy career by wrestling with his life even if some of his routines feel as if the may be crossing a line between laughing at and with his father. Wah’s discomfort is evident on watching Manny telling jokes about him on stage, but so is his relief and thankfulness that people seem to be laughing and he might be able to make a career out of it after all. 

One of Manny’s colleagues suggests that stand up might just save Hong Kong, that now more than ever people need to find a way to channel their anxiety into comedy to able to carry on. That anxiety is only deepened by the pandemic in which even the headmaster’s restaurant is threatened by the economic reality and Wah’s world becomes even smaller. Warmhearted though also honest in Manny’s inner conflict and ambivalence towards his relationship with his father the film is essentially about giving things a proper chance while there’s time rather than giving up because it seems difficult or awkward be it in relationships or finding the courage to chase happiness doing something you love.


Stand Up Story screens in Chicago Sept. 16 as part of the 17th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema. Pinnacle Career Achievement honoree Ben Yuen and Bright Star Award recipients Ng Siu Hin and Rachel Leung are scheduled to attend the award ceremony before the film and Q&A after

Original trailer (Traditional Chinese / English subtitles)

Asian Pop-Up Cinema Returns for Season 17!

Chicago’s Asian Pop-Up Cinema returns for its 17th Season Sept. 8 to Oct. 7. Opening with bathhouse dramedy Yudo, the season will close with surreal Korean comedy Killing Romance with actor Lee Sun-Kyun in attendance to receive the Excellent Achievement in Film Award. Veteran Hong Kong actor Ben Yuen will receive this season’s Pinnacle Career Achievement award while Ng Siu Hin and Rachel Leung will receive the Bright Star Award and Mongolian actor/director Amarsaikhan Baljinnyham will also be recognised as a Pinnacle Career Achievement Honoree.

Japan Cinema Showcase

AMC NEWCITY 14 (1500 N Clybourn Ave, Chicago, IL 60610) 

Opening Night Film

Friday, September 8, 7PM: Yudo (湯道, Masayuki Suzuki, 2022)

Toma Ikuta stars as a failed Tokyo architect returning to his home town with the intention of getting control of the family bathhouse currently run by his brother (Gaku Hamada) to tear it down and build an apartment block in this warmhearted celebration of traditional bathhouse culture.

Friday, September 8, 9:30 PM: Hoarder on the Border (断捨離パラダイス Takayuki Kayano, 2023) Special Encore 

A former concert pianist begins to see the world from a different angle after taking a job cleaning houses in Takayuki Kayano’s humanistic dramedy. Review.

Saturday, September 9, 2:00 PM: The Dry Spell (渇水, Masaya Takahashi, 2023)

Toma Ikuta stars as a municipal worker in charge of turning off the water supply at houses that are behind with their bills but finds himself conflicted on discovering two neglected children living alone in a home which is already without electric and gas.

Saturday, September 9, 4:00 PM: Remembering Every Night (すべての夜を思いだす, Yui Kiyohara, 2022)

A series of women wander around Tama New Town each searching for something in Yui Kiyohara’s wistful drama. Review.

Saturday, September 9, 7:00 PM: Insomniacs After School (君は放課後インソムニア, Chihiro Ikeda, 2023)

Two teens begin to overcome their fears and anxieties after bonding over their shared insomnia in Chihiro Ikeda’s adaptation of the Makoto Ojiro manga. Review.

Come & Go (カム・アンド・ゴー, Kah Wai Lim, 2020) Special Encore 

September 8 – 15, 2023 Streaming available for U.S. views at: https://comeandgo.eventbrite.com

A detective investigates the connection between the discovery of an old woman’s skeleton and a series of real estate scams by interviewing the local residents many of whom are migrant workers from other areas of Asia.

Hong Kong Cinema Showcase

AMC NEWCITY 14 (1500 N Clybourn Ave, Chicago, IL 60610) 

Saturday, September 16, 2:00 PM: READY O/R ROT (不日成婚2, Anselm Chan, 2023) World Premiere 

Actress Rachel Leung is scheduled to do the introduction of the film.  

Sequel to the 2021 film Ready O/R NOT starring much of the same cast and revolving around three couples each facing concurrent crises from dealing with an unplanned pregnancy to infidelity and trying plan a wedding with a meddling mother-in-law.

Saturday, September 16, 5:00 PM: In Broad Daylight (白日之下, Lawrence Kan, 2023)

Director Lawrence Kan and Actress Rachel Leung are scheduled to attend to do the introduction of the film and Q&A after. 

Jennifer Yu stars in this ripped from the headlines drama in which an investigative journalist goes undercover to expose the dire situation in Hong Kong’s care homes for the elderly and disabled.

Saturday, September 16, 8:00 PM: Stand Up Story (說笑之人 Au Cheuk Man, 2023)

Pinnacle Career Achievement honoree Ben Yuen, and two Bright Star Award recipients Ng Siu Hin and Rachel Leung (IN BROAD DAYLIGHT) are scheduled to attend the award ceremony before the film and Q&A after.   

Veteran Hong Kong actor Ben Yuen, who will also be receiving this season’s Pinnacle Career Achievement Award, stars as an intellectually disabled father.

Sunday, September 17, 2:00 PM: Over My Dead Body (死屍死時四十四, Ho Cheuk Tin, 2023)

Residents of a swanky apartment block must band together to get rid of a random corpse and protect their property values in Ho Cheuk-Tin’s dark-hearted farce. Review.

Sunday, September 17, 5:00 PM: Wish Comes True (把幸福拉近一點, Ling Chi-Man, 2023) World Premiere

Actress Rachel Leung is scheduled to attend and do the introduction for the film.

Abandoned by her mother, Xiaofei discovers a “Wish Come True” machine and bonds with a young man, Wai, who is living with a rare disease.

Centerpiece

AMC NEWCITY 14 (1500 N Clybourn Ave, Chicago, IL 60610) 

Saturday, September 23, 2:00 PM: Harvest Moon (Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam, 2023)

Pinnacle Career Achievement honoree Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam is scheduled to attend the award ceremony before the film and Q&A after.   

Debut directorial feature from Mongolian actor Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam adapted from a novel by T. Bum-Erden in which a chef must return from the city to take care of the harvest after his father dies.

Saturday, September 23, 5:30 PM: A Letter to the President (Roya Sadat, 2017)

Director Roya Sadat is scheduled to attend for the introduction before the film and the Q&A after.

Drama from Afghanistan following a public official who is arrested and put on death row after defending a woman accused of adultery.

Saturday, September 23, 7:30 PM: Like a Fish on the Moon (Dornaz Hajiha, 2022)

Director Dornaz Hajiha is scheduled to attend for the introduction before the film and the Q&A after. 

Iranian drama in which parents search for answers when their four-year-old son stops speaking.

Chinese Cinema Showcase

Illinois Institute of Technology (10 W 35th St, Chicago, IL 60616) Admission Free.  RSVP is required.  

Saturday, September 30, 2:00 PM: Ripples of Life (永安镇故事集, Wei Shujun, 2021)

Wei Shujun’s meta odyssey follows a Beijing film crew to a small town in rural China where everyone it seems is longing for escape. Review.

Saturday, September 30, 4:30 PM: The Best is Yet to Come (不止不休, Wang Jing, 2020)

Social drama based on the life of journalist Han Fudong who exposed the stigma against people with Hepatitis B in China.

Sunday, October 1, 2:30 PM at Claudia Cassidy Theatre: Hachiko (忠犬八公, Xu Ang, 2023) Special Encore

78 E. Washington St. Chicago, IL 60602. Admission Free. RSVP is required. Celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival, all the attendees will receive an individually wrapped moon cake after the screening, courtesy of the Consulate-General of the People’s Republic of China in Chicago.   

The heartrending tale of a faithful dog who continued to wait for his owner at a cable car station becomes a poignant symbol for a left behind China in Xu’s Ang’s reimagining of the 1987 Japanese film. Review.

Seven Days in Heaven (父后七日, Essay Liu, Wang Yu-lin, 2010) Special Encore

Director Wang will give a pre-recorded virtual introduction to the film.

September 25 – October 1, 2023 Streaming available for U.S. views at: https://seven-days-in-heaven.eventbrite.com

Comedy in which a young woman experiences culture shock on returning from the city for her father’s Taoist funeral.

South Korea Cinema Showcase

AMC NEWCITY 14 (1500 N Clybourn Ave, Chicago, IL 60610) 

Friday, October 6, 7:00 PM: New Normal (뉴 노멀, Jung Bum-Shik, 2023)

Anthology film featuring six interconnected tales of love and violence in post-pandemic Seoul from the director of Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum.

Friday, October 6, 9:15 PM: The Childe (귀공자, Park Hoon-Jung, 2023) Special Encore

A boxer finds himself in a precarious position after travelling to Korea in search of the father who abandoned him in Park Hoon-jung’s bloody thriller. Review.

Saturday, October 7, 2:30 PM: Drive (드라이브, Park Dong-hee, 2023)

Director Park Dong-Hee is scheduled to attend and introduce the film and do the Q&A after. 

Intense drama in which a snooty influencer falls asleep in a taxi after attending a brand launch and wakes up to discover she is trapped in the boot of a car. The driver wants a ransom, but not only that he wants her to live stream her kidnapping!

Closing Night Film

Saturday, October 7, 7:15 PM: Killing Romance (킬링로맨스, Lee Won Suk, 2023)

Lead actor Lee Sun-kyun is scheduled to attend for the award ceremony and together with director Lee Won Suk, they are doing the INTRO and the Q&A of the film. 

A once famous actress sets out to reclaim her autonomy from an abusive, controlling, billionaire husband in Lee Won-suk’s hilariously off the wall comedy. Review.

Asian Pop-Up Cinema Season 17 runs in Chicago Sept. 8 to Oct. 7. Further details are available via the official website and you can also keep up with all the latest news by following Asian Pop-up Cinema on FacebookX (formerly known as Twitter),  Instagram, and Vimeo.

Asian Pop-Up Cinema Reveals Season 17 Sneak Peek

Chicago’s Asian Pop-Up Cinema has revealed a sneak peek at its upcoming 17th season which will take place mainly at AMC NEWCITY 14 in Lincoln Park, Sept. 8 to Oct. 7 with three Chinese films also screening at the Illinois Institute of Technology and Chicago Cultural Center’s Claudia Cassidy Theater. Season 17 will open with bathhouse dramedy Yudo with Mongolian drama Harvest Moon as the Centrepiece film. Veteran Hong Kong actor Ben Yuen will receive this season’s Pinnacle Career Achievement award. The full programme will be announced Aug. 28.

Yudo

Toma Ikuta stars as a failed Tokyo architect returning to his home town with the intention of getting control of the family bathhouse currently run by his brother (Gaku Hamada) to tear it down and build an apartment block in this warmhearted celebration of traditional bathhouse culture.

Harvest Moon

Debut directorial feature from Mongolian actor Amarsaikhan Baljinnyam adapted from a novel by T. Bum-Erden in which a chef must return from the city to take care of the harvest after his father dies.

Stand Up Story

Veteran Hong Kong actor Ben Yuen, who will also be receiving this season’s Pinnacle Career Achievement Award, stars as an intellectually disabled father.

Like a Fish on the Moon

Iranian drama in which parents search for answers when their four-year-old son stops speaking.

A Letter to the President

Drama from Afghanistan following a public official who is arrested and put on death row after defending a woman accused of adultery.

The Best is Yet to Come

Screening at the Illinois Institute of Technology in collaboration with their Office of Community Affairs

Social drama based on the life of journalist Han Fudong who exposed the stigma against people with Hepatitis B in China.

Ripples of Life

Screening at the Illinois Institute of Technology in collaboration with their Office of Community Affairs

Wei Shujun’s meta odyssey follows a Beijing film crew to a small town in rural China where everyone it seems is longing for escape. Review.

Hachiko

Screening at Chicago Cultural Center’s Claudia Cassidy Theater

The heartrending tale of a faithful dog who continued to wait for his owner at a cable car station becomes a poignant symbol for a left behind China in Xu’s Ang’s reimagining of the 1987 Japanese film. Review.

Asian Pop-Up Cinema Season 17 runs in Chicago Sept. 8 to Oct. 7. The full lineup will be announced Aug. 28. Further details will soon be available via the official website and you can also keep up with all the latest news by following Asian Pop-up Cinema on FacebookX (formerly known as Twitter),  Instagram, and Vimeo.

Lost in Forest (山中森林, Johnny Chiang, 2022)

History repeats itself for a former gangster recently released from prison in Johnny Chiang’s melancholy neo-noir, Lost in Forest (山中森林, Shān Zhōng Senlín). Set in a neon-lit Taipei, Chiang’s moody crime drama finds its hero displaced in the modern society unable to look either forward or back while meditating on all he’s lost and another less corrupt vision of his home city as symbolised by his late father’s missing sausage bike and the changing back streets where it was once parked.

This Taipei is however a less wholesome place as suggested by Chiang’s frequent cuts to Christian churches and the giant neon crosses that sit above them as if looming in judgement on the chaos below. 12 years previously, Sheng (Lee Kang-sheng) opened fire on rival gang members who’d kidnapped his best friend and comrade Seagull (Angus Hsieh) who has now taken over the outfit while he’s been inside. Customarily, Seagull should have had someone come to meet him on his release, but Sheng exits the prison alone and is given a lift back into the city by the entourage collecting his prison buddy Ji despite the fact they are headed to an entirely different part of the country. Without a phone and not knowing where the gang even is anymore, all Sheng can do is hole up in a hotel until he finds out what’s going on. All of which suggests that despite his sacrifice, Seagull may not be particularly glad to reunite with him.

The conflict exists on three levels. Sheng must necessarily doubt his old friend Seagull, especially on realising that his new business model involves exploiting vulnerable women by pressing them into debt via high interest loans and then forcing them into sex work, while simultaneously worried about his guys who claim they have not been well treated while Sheng was away. But then it also becomes clear that much like many contemporary Taiwanese crime dramas, the real villain is institutional corruption as Seagull’s alliances with corrupt politicians and shady businessmen continue to destabilise the underground society thanks to the machinations of anarchic street punk Monkey (Sean Huang) who engineers a gang war by giving the businessman’s son a kicking as leverage in a dodgy land deal. 

On the one hand, Sheng watches history repeat itself as a handsome foot soldier, Chenghao (Prince Chiu), vacillates over leaving the gang for his respectable girlfriend Alice (Puff Kuo), while on the other Sheng becomes attached to sex worker Jing (Lee Chien-na), one of Seagull’s exploited women working for him to pay for her father’s medical bills. Sheng’s former lover tells him that if he really cared about her, he shouldn’t have sacrificed himself for Seagull just as Chenghao shouldn’t put himself in harm’s way out of a pointless sense of loyalty for a gang that has no real loyalty to him. Before his release, the prison warden had advised Sheng not to let his sense of loyalty get the best of him, but as he says Sheng no longer has much of anything else. His parents died while he was inside, the woman he loved married someone else, and Seagull can’t even remember what he did with Sheng’s dad’s sausage bike which is his only path back to a more wholesome existence. 

In a certain sense he’s powerless, unable to escape the inexorable pull of gangland karma until finally forced to reckon with the destabilising force that is Monkey to restore some kind of order and undermine the system of corruption that has arisen between underworld thuggery, local politics, and big business. The warden had also pointed at the fish in his tank and asked Sheng if it was happier in there or back in the sea but Sheng had merely said that it’s up to the fish to decide, hinting that in a certain sense it’s all the same and it’s just that one prison is bigger than another. At least the fish gets fed and is kept safe from predators even in its lonely isolation, which might be more than can be said for Sheng who can never truly escape his past even as he tries to free Chenghao and Jing from a similar fate. A melancholy mood piece, Chiang shoots night-time Taipei as a land of neon emptiness set against a classic jazz score that echoes Sheng’s deadpan ennui in a modern world of electronic smoke and rueful nihilism in which there is no escape from karmic retribution. 


Lost in Forest screens in Chicago April 16 as part of the 16th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema.

Original trailer (Traditional Chinese / English subtitles)

Day Off (本日公休, Fu Tien-Yu, 2023)

The wholesome small-town values of an ageing hairdresser place her increasingly at odds with her cynical consumerist kids in Fu Tien-Yu’s poignant tale of changing times, yet as she’s fond saying children have their own lives and all that really matters is that you’re satisfied with what you have. Day Off (本日公休, běnrì gōngxiū) is partly a lament for the things we’ve thrown away in the name of convenience but also a celebration of human connection brokered by something as simple and routine as a haircut.

A Rui (Lu Hsiao-fen) has toiled away in her family-run barbershop for most of her adult life and the business has changed little in the time she’s been running it. Old men and their sons have been coming to get a haircut and a shave for the last few decades because as someone else later puts it, men are largely creatures of habit and a hairdresser like a wife is hard to switch. A Rui’s daughter Ling is also a hairdresser but works in a much more modern salon and is planning to open a supercuts-style express service aiming to get people in and out in a short amount of time for a small amount of money. Ling’s philosophy is contrary to everything A Rui was taught, advised by her mentor to take her time and work with precision. He told her that if she provided a good service she’d always have custom and does that does seem to have been the case. 

Then again perhaps times aren’t so different as they seem. Ling is unpopular at her salon because she has poor customer service skills and doesn’t seem to be particularly well suited to the social nature of the job. Her boss always gets all the best clients and that’s largely because he treats them just like A Rui treats hers even if his care and attention is a little more cynical than heartfelt. Ling has also divorced her husband, Chuan, essentially for being too nice after he lent money they were saving for a new flat to a friend in need. A Rui can’t understand why she’d split up with a perfectly good man when they have a small child together, but Ling is an ambitious ultramodernist who values change above all else and looks down on small-town values of community and reciprocity seeing her former husband and mother as merely foolish and living in the past. She can’t understand why her mother bothers to ring up her elderly regulars to remind them they’re due a haircut when she could just set up an automated system to take care of it for her, nor can she get her head round it when A Rui says she’s going to travel to a faraway town to cut the hair of an elderly gentlemen who can’t make it to the shop without even asking for expenses. 

But to A Rui it’s just the right thing to do and an appropriate act of reciprocity for decades of custom. Chuan feels much the same, always willing to put his life on hold to offer roadside assistance and understanding if a client can’t pay him right away knowing that they can’t get the money if they can’t work so it’s better to just fix the car. A Rui worries about her other daughter living with a boyfriend and a dog in a rented flat in Taipei, and about her son who seems to have several failed entrepreneurial projects behind him, but encounters on the road another man who gave up a job as a scientist to become a farmer and seems to be happy with his choice. In the end it might not be that one is better than the other, the only thing that matters being whether or not you’re satisfied with what you have.

There’s a certain poignancy in the disappearing quality of A Rui’s way of life, the hair on one of her customer’s heads slowly turning from black to grey as if she were literally shaving the years off him. “Time flies” she often remarks, realising that she’s known some of her customers all their lives and has become a kind of community hub that they can always return to even if they move away. The knees she once practiced her shaving on are now old and worn from years of standing, but as her customers remind her she can’t retire because no one knows their heads like she does and then where will they get their hair cut? Bittersweet and elegiac, Day Off ends on a note of moving on as A Rui gives the baby of a second generation client their first haircut and prepares to say goodbye to a much a loved friend seeking a more satisfying future while resolving to carry on doing what she does best in providing the best possible service to her regulars and to the world around her.


Day Off screens in Chicago April 15 as part of the 16th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema.

Original trailer (Traditional Chinese / English subtitles)

In Pursuit of Light (追光万里, Zhang Tongdao, 2022)

At 93 years of age, Chinese-American actress Lisa Lu Yan acts a guide exploring both the history of the film industry in China and Chinese actors in Hollywood in Zhang Tongdao’s heartwarming documentary In Pursuit of Light (追光万里, zhuīguāng wànlǐ). Lu may be best known to International audiences thanks to her roles in ‘90s hit The Joy Luck Club and the more recent Crazy Rich Asians but began her career in the US in the late 1950s fulfilling her dream of becoming an actress at the comparatively late age of 31 having already become a wife and mother. 

In recounting her own path to stardom she looks back at those who came before her such as Ann May Wong who grew up almost “on set” walking past film crews shooting silent movies on the streets of Chinatown who nicknamed her the “curious Chinese child” before she got the opportunity to star in a film of her own. The documentary suggests that it was a sense of rejection from Hollywood on being denied the lead role in The Good Earth on the grounds that even if, or possibly because, the film had a Chinese setting audiences would not accept her in the lead that led Wong back to China in search of her roots and cultural identity which she continued to maintain for the rest of her life and career. 

Lu may have faced some of the same problems in that the roles open to her in Hollywood were often restricted, but presents her return to Chinese-language cinema as another fulfilment of a dream. Travelling to Hong Kong for the 1968 film The Arch, she won the first of her Golden Horse awards picking up a second soon after for her supporting role in the Taiwanese wuxia film 14 Amazons. She reflects on her wandering journey which began with her working as an interpreter for English-language films in Shanghai, translating the dialogue and performing for non-English speaking audiences who could rent a headset to hear her. Her mother had been a talented Peking Opera singer and the pair were taken in by a prominent opera family in Hong Kong after the fall of Shanghai who became her god parents and encouraged her talent for performing. 

Talking to others often around her own age, she looks back at the origins of the Chinese film industry through the story of Lai Man-Wai, “father of Hong Kong Cinema”, who began his career following Sun Yat-sen into battle and later founded one of the most important film studios in Shanghai. She talks to the son of Cai Chusheng whose 1934 silent film Song of the Fishermen played for more than 80 days in Shanghai and went on to become the first Chinese film to win an award in an international film festival. Cai also directed tragic star Ruan Lingyu in her final film, New Women, shortly after which she took her own life after being hounded by the press just as the actress she played in the film, Ai Xia, had done the year before.

Like Lai and Cai, Ruan had ties to Cantonese-speaking Guangdong where Lu’s father was also from. The documentarians who contact Lu via telephone in the film’s beginning expressly ask her to act as a guide introducing the stories of other Cantonese filmmakers though she herself was born in Beijing, lived for a time in Shanghai and then Hong Kong before travelling to the US and eventually returning to star in Chinese-language films. Coming full circle, the last star she introduces is of course Bruce Lee who made his film debut as a baby in Esther Eng’s Golden Gate Girl shot San Francisco in 1941. At the start of the film, Lu had taken her grandson to see the statue of Ann May Wong in Hollywood, taking her own place in film history as she continues to share its stories with future generations. “I will keep going” Lu vows, having recently celebrated her 94th birthday, flying around in pursuit of light and the no longer far off dream of filmmaking.


In Pursuit of Light screens in Chicago April 8 as part of the 16th season of Asian Pop-Up Cinema.

Original trailer (Simplified Chinese / English subtitles)