This omnibus film brings together three globally acclaimed directors from Asia with a common theme 'Living Together in Asia' to depict the lives of characters who journey between Japan, Cambodia, the Philippines and Malaysia. Brillante Mendoza grapples with the issue of loss of national identity and home, with a story set in the Obihiro area of Hokkaido and Manila in the Philippines. Isao Yukisada directs a story in Malaysia where the Japanese army was once stationed but is now home to many Japanese retirees living out their remaining years. An elderly man has parted from his family in Japan to live alone in Penang, but when a new helper comes to the house, he slowly opens his mind and an unexpected bond forms between the two. Finally director Sotho Kulikar conveys a beautiful but heart-rending love story between a Japanese man and Cambodian woman that unfolds across past and present against the backdrop of Cambodia's civil war.
I was able to sit down and talk with singer/songwriter Carson Lueders about his career in the music industry. We talked influences from country music to Pop, and his working relationship with Quavo from the The Migos.
April, a professional dancer, reluctantly trains a group of girls at a dance school for the dance competition.
With The Father, writer-director Florian Zeller- who wrote and developed the play upon which the film is based- pulls no punches as he confidently makes every effort to put the audience in the mind of someone whose grip on reality has all but vanished. It’s a dazzling testament to Zeller’s abilities as a director as he makes his first transition from stage to film appear as if he’s been working behind a camera his entire career. The dialogue he fashions with co-writer Christopher Hampton, along with the work of production designers Peter Francis and Cathy Featherstone, collectively makes the downward spiral of dementia startlingly tangible, doing so in a way that can be comprehended by everyone except the person it directly affects.
Few movies deal with aging (particularly aging women) with as much compassion as Relic does. Yet it’s not sickly sweet and not a soapbox rant against ageism. Relic simply is, allowing the horror to seep in quietly and carefully.
