Beautifully crafted rom-com doesn't put a foot wrong
Review by Derek Elley (Film Business Asia)
Pretty much the only thing off-kilter about When a Wolf Falls In Love With a Sheep 南方小羊牧場 is the cumbersome English title, which also makes it sound l
Review by Derek Elley (Film Business Asia)
Pretty much the only thing off-kilter about When a Wolf Falls In Love With a Sheep 南方小羊牧場 is the cumbersome English title, which also makes it sound like a children's cartoon or a sappy melodrama. Apart from that, this second feature by Taiwanese writer-director HOU Chi-jan 侯季然 is a beautifully paced rom-com wrapped inside a neighbourhood ensemble movie that doesn't put a foot wrong. A rom-com where not a single kiss is exchanged, where the two protagonists seem to spend their time thinking about everything but the other person, and where the story is only just starting as the film ends, Wolf represents a huge leap in writing and structure from his feature debut, the abstruse, time-bending romance One Day 有一天 (2009). More than that, it fulfils the promise of his segment in Juliets 茱麗葉 (2010), a perfect demonstration of the short-story form that also showed a natural feel for Taipei's backstreets.
Clearly inspired by his own memories of Nanyang Street — an area just south of the city's main train station that's known for its cram schools — the movie starts off with protagonist Tung (likably played by Kai KO 柯震東, director Giddens 九把刀' alter ego in hit You Are the Apple of My Eye 那些年,我們一起追的女孩。 (2011)), being peremptorily dumped by his dream girl (Nikki HSIEH 謝欣穎, from One Day, in a cameo) with a note stuck to his forehead. After falling to pieces, and searching for her among Nanyang's cram schools, Tung ends up working in a copy shop there and stumbles across the school where she once was. Meanwhile, he's met one of its employees, Hsiao Yang ("little sheep"), a wannabe illustrator biding her time there and drawing small cartoons of the woolly animal on exam papers.
The quiet Hsiao Yang is slightly tomboyish, quite independent minded, and definitely a bit spacey. As she and Tung become pals, sharing their memories of being dumped, they enter into a relationship that neither of them realises is happening: part of the movie's magic is that, though the audience is more aware of what's taking place than the protagonists are, it always leaves its development unsure. In a heart-stopping finale, where time itself bends out of shape, Hou deliberately toys with the viewer's expectations.
As played by CHIEN Man-shu 簡嫚書, who had a tiny part in Hou's episode of the portmanteau 10+10 十加十 (2011) as a young singer in the '50s, Hsiao Yang inhabits a dreamy plane of her own, counting down the 100 days she's promised herself to spend in her menial job before moving on, and only showing the tiniest clues that she's interested in Tung. The latter, still obsessed by being dumped, only picks up these clues tangentially, until one day... click.
With no regular plot, the film is one in which tone is all-important — a difficult balancing act for any director, not least in the difficult genre of the rom-com. The screen chemistry between Chien and Ko is tangible without being over-obvious: two lost souls spending time together. But Hou maintains the tempo by making Hsiao Yang and Tung's story part of a larger neighbourhood ensemble: the school's colourful, bowtie-wearing boss (Dennis NIEH 聶雲), a priest-cum-noodle stand owner (beautifully played by LIN Ching-tai 林慶台, the aboriginal actor who debuted as the lead in Warriors of the Rainbow: Seediq Bale 賽德克?巴萊 (2011)), Tung's wacky boss (character veteran TSAI Chen-nan 蔡振南), a sticky-rice seller (WU Pi-lien 吳碧蓮) who's lost her dog, and Hsiao Yang's entrepreneurial, kooky workmate Pao-pao (KUO Shu-yau 郭書瑤). Neighbourhood films are a staple of Taiwan cinema but Hou neither overplays the comic potential nor makes the characters and the whole film seem too local (unlike, say, the recent Together 甜?祕密).
On a technical side, the film benefits from a top-drawer score by Owen WANG 王希文 (Jump Ashin! 翻滾吧!阿信 (2011), The Soul of Bread 愛的麵包魂) that's alert to nuances of mood; occasional use of tricks like speeded-up motion; and discreet visual effects for Hsiao Yang's dreams. Wolf could have been just cloyingly cute; instead, it's cute, funny and, in its final minutes, very moving. Much of that is due to the precision script by Hou and his collaborators (including regular Kelly YANG 楊元鈴), which satisfyingly clicks together in the final third, bringing together elements that only seemed like passing decoration (e.g. paper planes) and still springing lovely surprises (as with Fried Rice Man's backstory).
Wolf isn't a "big" film, with grandiose statements or major events. But it's beautifully crafted, touches both the funny bone and the heart, and pulls off that most difficult trick of all — turning the small things of life into engaging entertainment. For that alone, it deserves an extra point.
The Chinese title simply means South Sheep Farm, Hsiao Yang's nickname for the cram school. Viewers are also advised to stick around until the end titles have finished, for a lovely capper between actors Tsai and Lin.
雨伞那场,虽然我以一个几乎被称作文艺杀手的眼光来看,影片里的年轻人的举动似乎显得矫情了,但谁又能说,在这样的一部电影里,它是突兀的呢?让我欢喜的是配乐,无比熟悉的欢快的音乐,没有放出歌词,但我在脑海中依然跟随着哼唱着,listen to the rythem of the following rain,tell me just what a fool I've been,the only girl I care about has gone away,along with her she took my heart.就像之前的一些年我一直无法理解,为什么伤感的歌词配上那么轻快的旋律,让人难过都难过得没有兴致。但在这部电影里,这个音乐,真的恰到好处,那么清新,那么欢快,就像,那两个看起来傻乎乎的年轻人。