Yi Yi (The Criterion Collection) [DVD]

My wife tried watching this film on DVD without me and gave up on it. Do not watch this film while being distracted by whatever is going on in your living room! Yiyi requires your undivided attention. It unrolls slowly and warmly. So turn off your phone, put away your toys and go to the restroom before you start. You'll like it if you like Japanese cinema - t's very Ozu. The "humanity" that unfurls is amazing and heart-warming. At the end, I wanted to see more of the lives of the family, because they had become so real and so intimate. Ideally, this film should be watched in an old style movie theatre, in the dark, when you are forced to watch the film play out as the director intended. You will be richly rewarded. When I eventually took my wife to see it in a theatre, she loved it!

You have been warned, if you cannot concentrate on details, look elsewhere. However, if you have the patience (and time) to immerse yourself -- your be-ing -- into a unique cinematic experience, Yi Yi is unforgettable. The layers of meaning are, most likely, not all intended but emerge through each viewer's interpretation. Scenes and situations are presented and laid out to us -- and we must respond in our own way. As most reviewers say, Yi Yi is about every day life, but then, "every day" IS "life."The details in our own lives creates the significance of existence. Keep coming back for more insights into one's own life.UPDATE May 2012Returned to see Yi-Yi, this time, concentrating on its cinematic features. Once again, something to dwell on, as angles and framing add more layers of meaning to the narrative. It's not an "action" film, rather, a movie of "inaction."

Saw this when it first came out with the help of a Taiwanese friend. Rewatched recently. It continues to resonate in its quiet way about the challenges of family life and change.

Masterful film on the lives of the members of your "average" dysfunctional family. It's quite remarkable how the ordinary becomes extraordinary in the hands of this Taiwanese master of understated but deep emotions....

This is a god-tier movie wow

My rating is more of a 4.5Thanks for reading!𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔?𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 -- 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍?𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 -- 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝑰 𝒔𝒆𝒆 -- 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍.Yi Yi (Chinese: 一一; pinyin: Yī Yī; lit. 'one one'; subtitled A One and a Two) is a 2000 Taiwanese drama film written and directed by Edward Yang.Set in Taiwan, the film follows the lives of the Jian family from the alternating perspectives of the three main family members: father N.J., teenage daughter Ting-Ting and young son Yang-Yang. N.J., disgruntled with his current job, attempts to court the favor of a prominent video game company while Ting-Ting and Yang-Yang contend with the various trials of youth, all while caring for N.J.'s mother-in-law, who lies in a coma.A film whose conflict is deeply predicated in generational differences, 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊’s characterization is informed by a larger force of cultural change namely, the complicated subject of ownership that has affected the relationship between Taiwan and Japan as separate for decades on end. In 1895 Taiwan was established as a dependency of Japan; the first of many colonies established by the latter, it was asserted as evidence that Japan's influence proving instrumental in the improving of a given area’s economy, public works, and ability to industrialize effectively. From 1937 to 1945 Japan was involved in a war with China, concurrently paired with the implementation of the ‘Kōminka Movement’ in its territories of Interest: It was established with the hope that countries like Taiwan would remain loyal to Japan (as opposed to wanting a Chinese victory), and required it citizens to forego their own sense of identity, pride, culture, language, religion, and customs. In 1945 Japan ended up surrendering to the Allied powers of World War II, culminating in Taiwan being put under the administrative control of the Republic of China. Now under Nationalist rule, whether Taiwanese citizens experience more oppression and economic hardship under this leadership has been a topic of debate: leading to an issue of identity that is related to both Chinese and Japanese traditions, not to mention anything related to modernization.In 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊, the hints of of missing more explicit forms of Japanese influence make themselves known through an incognito array of lip service, mostly as evidenced by the languages used to communicate in combination with the settings in which key piece of dialogue are spoken; a majority of its dialogue being in Mandarin, at key times Taiwanese Hokkien is spoken, and this is primarily during scenes where NJ finds himself reminiscing with an old flame (Who reciprocates in the same language) in what is also a relatively undeveloped area: a sharp juxtaposition to the heavily industrialized area that NJ calls “home” but doesn't find nearly as fulfilling. Additionally, it is of no coincidence that NJ is sent on a business Mecca of sorts to Japan, and finds himself in the company of a friendly outsider whose honesty about his shortcomings is complimented by a bartender’s measured suggestion: “𝑩𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑱𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 - 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆'𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒕𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆” .A film thereby dependent on otherwise tedious conversations and the concentration they can hold, 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊 tries its hardest to divert from the usual in terms of stylistic choices: It is much less concerned with close-up shots and the like to convey emotion over what can be extrapolated from nonverbal cues and the surrounding terrain for guidance. Yang Wei-han’s camera, in its prioritization of full shots, endorses the perspective of one who is watching from afar: an endless feed of slouched backs, poor posture, and distant interactions reinforcing little Yang-Yang’s curiosity about all he is ignorant to in the world. Mere suggestions of presence without confirmation make clear how frustrating it can be to not have the whole picture - as the case when Ting-Ting plays secret agent with both her peers and family - never stopping to propose to viewers that with these limits one should ever feel satisfied, and thus free to make judgments about another individuals’ life, decisions, and unique circumstances.As indicated by what unfolds during the first ten minutes of 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊 - specifically, through further contextualization of the wedding that takes place - is made quite clear from the beginning that the influence of Jian’s eldest matriarch is slipping, though her opinion regarding family matters (And, not to mention, her attention) is still desired; what she can provide in respect to advice or criticism is swiftly framed as outdated, but this feedback is nonetheless missed when she enters a comatose state and leaves NJ, his wife, Yang-Yang, and Ting-Ting to “fend for themselves” and come to terms with the reality of their everyday and always developing lives. Both adults, only slightly advantaged by their own maturity, find themselves mourning a monotonous lifestyle with little reason to pass down any sense of optimism to their own children. Respectively, Yang-Yang and Ting-Tings’ combined inquisitiveness result in a punishing - but not necessarily deterring - collision with hard truths that are by some margin inarticulate. Every perched conflict is accentuated with a hint of ignorance on an audience member’s behalf that never reaches a state of being “resolved”, though they are left with the sense that each generation has learned a lesson tied to appreciating the moment, moving on, and looking forward to the future.Perhaps what 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊 boils down to is mundane and therefore trivial; as is the case with all of Yang’s films, this one examines the struggle between what is customary and present, and even with this being his last before passing in 2007 feature he still had plenty he planned to express about the relationship between perspective and what people stand to get out of current circumstances. His last written script, finished in 2001, featured a young child traveling the entire world with nothing more than a phone and a credit card in tow, and was likely “evidence” on his behalf that in the midst of generational or cultural differences people can still find ways to sincerely and sensitively care for one-another.Through 𝒀𝒊 𝒀𝒊 Yang carried on with his self-appointed need to point out the inevitable: that with time traditions may be forgotten about or disregarded, but what’s worth preserving in the heart is worth carrying out with another person.

One of the best Asian Film of all time

so much about nothing, yet so much about everything.

La entrega en tiempos y el producto en excelente estado. Amé el librito que incluye, Criterion como siempre de lo mejor.La película: Ciertamente no es una película para el fan de Rápidos y Furiosos o Avengers, este es el cine épico que le guta a los mamadores como yo. Las tres tramas te envuelven y no te dejan escapar, especialmente después de terminada la película. El mensaje es poderoso, el capitalismo invade un país tradicional/conservador. La gente se mete en el Yo-yo y ahí comienzan los problemas. La fotografía es maravillosa y el niño es la cereza del pastel. La verdad es que todas las actuaciones y personajes son memorables. Obviamente me encantó y de hecho la voy a ver de nuevo para comprender más. Nota: únicamente trae subtítulos en inglés lo cual obliga a no distraerte en ningún momento.

Yi Yi traverses the generational intersections of life through reflective horoscopic love. What is life? What is love? What is death? Everyday, society wakes up to perform their daily routines, resembling crucial components in a cognitive machine. Everyday, humanity subconsciously questions the dissatisfaction of the mundane life they preside over. And every night, civilisation sleeps. Only for the repetitious cycle of daily endeavours to loop once more, until death beckons for our souls. Humanism is a contemplative philosophy, profound with its resonance to the heart, enabling the regular challenging of daily fulfilment. Work, education, love and family. Is it ever enough?The Jian family, representing a perceptive portrayal of cultural and generational differences, encounter various trials and tribulations that personify the natural order of humanity. Middle-aged father NJ increasingly growing dissatisfied with work, a business occupation surrounding itself in the venomous greed of plutocracy. NJ’s wife succumbs to a midlife crisis after her mother regresses to a comatose state after a stroke, retreating to a Buddhist temple to seek enlightenment. Their teenage daughter Ting-Ting ensnared in a troubling love triangle, whilst solely consuming the blame for her grandmother’s stroke. And the youngest son Yang-Yang, developing an interest in photography to overcome the persistent bullying from his childish female classmates.Yang’s intrepid final directorial feature before his untimely death is a slice of societal life through the perspective of middle-class Taiwan. Commencing its ornate grandeur with a joyous wedding, only to culminate in a melancholic funeral. Yi Yi, translating to One One, parallels idiosyncratic emotional turmoils between each generation gap of the same family to perpetuate the difficulties of humanistic stability and its eventual deterioration. For example, life. NJ emotes the representation of depression with his lethargic energy and solemn facial expression, indicating his general unhappiness to the corporate environment. He then meets Japanese software mogul Ota, whom provides a much required mental realignment through a spectacular sleight-of-hand card trick, after highlighting NJ’s strengths in earnest personality. His honesty. Ting-Ting, a reserved bookworm undergoing puberty, unabashedly welcomes the first male counterpart to show admiration for her. Only to inevitably end in heartache, as most school crushes do. Yang-Yang is at an age of curiosity. Coming to terms with the apparent social ineptitude by discovering a newfound hobby that would allow him to express his emotions through stills of people’s necks. Bestowing them the “whole truth”.These internal complications then transgress into parallels of love. NJ reuniting with his former flame Sherry, whom desperately yearns to participate in his life once more. The two discuss their lost love, describing the first encounter they had vividly remembered. Comparatively paralleling Ting-Ting’s first date. Holding hands whilst experiencing sweaty palms. The sudden surge of temporary emotional stability. Yang, through a simple yet hugely effective narrational parallel, uncovers the emotionality behind love and how it can determine one’s life for the subsequent years to follow. His delectable screenplay never deters from the engrossing characters on screen. These aren’t plot devices for a hyperbolised dramatic endeavour. These are reflections of reality.Accompanied by sublime cinematography from Yang, whom encapsulates the foundational imprisonment on mundane life, and Peng’s orchestral score that heightens the disparity within the Jian family, and the feature becomes an epic tapestry that invades every sense. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata especially enhancing the quaint nature of Yang’s characters. Every single frame of the near three hour runtime has some significance, no matter how minuscule its staying power is. From seamless tracking shots of concrete office blocks to the picturesque clouds supplying the blue sky with personality. Anything and everything corresponds to an emotional stimulus.That’s the beauty of Yi Yi. Much like life itself, the adornment is found in the details. The employment of Chang and Lee as first-time actors. The extensive distance between the camera and cast. The multitude of poignant emotional breakdowns presented by the stunning performances all-round. These ripples of life echo across the generational gap that reverberate across every family in existence. Yi Yi refuses to be just a film about life. It is life. As quiet as background ambience, yet fundamentally existing. Yang’s final feature is, undoubtedly, a cinematic masterpiece of supreme resonance. One that allows Yang-Yang’s final words to latch onto my subconscious forever. For “I feel I am old, too”.

Décédé en 2007 à 59 ans, le réalisateur taïwanais Edward Yang reste d''abord pour certains (dont moi) l''auteur en 1991 de A brighter summer day, un des plus beaux films du nouveau cinéma asiatique (hélàs introuvable en DVD ici). Yi-Yi, couronné d''un prix de la mise en scène à Cannes en 2000, est sa dernière œuvre. Sans aucune emphase, Edward Yang peint une famille et ses trois générations en des temps d'épreuves et de changements : coma de l''aïeule, dépression de la mère, retrouvailles entre le père et son premier amour, hésitations entre amour et amitié de la fille adolescente, fils encore enfant qui s''interroge beaucoup et communique peu. Le tout sur fond d''évocation d''un Taïwan urbanisé où l''économie hésite entre rentabilité à court terme et projets ambitieux (Faut-il signer avec la société Ato ou avec sa rivale Ota ? l''épisode est traité sur un mode humoristique, mais pas seulement). D''une durée de presque trois heures, le film tourne le dos résolument au scénario traditionnel et à ses ficelles, et laisse une étrange impression de vérité dans l''évocation par petites touches du quotidien, mais aussi et surtout de douceur dans le regard porté sur les êtres, leurs dilemmes et leurs échecs. L''apparente nonchalance de la mise en scène cache une maîtrise certaine de la grande forme : les épisodes apparement disparates s''enchaînent sans heurt et s''éclairent mutuellement.

esta es una de las mejores películas hechas

Edward Yang is arguably maligned somewhat in the vast world of Asian cinema, but he was every bit the equal of Zhang Zhiyi or even Kurosawa. This film is perhaps his best and most emotional, artistic and creative effort. Despite clocking in at nearly three hours, this film constantly keeps you watching and this Criterion release has plenty of bonus content regarding this film. Overall a great release by Criterion.