Three Times (2005)

The three times mentioned in this film's title are "A Time for Love," "A Time for Freedom" and "A Time for Youth," each a separate segment set in a different time period (1966, 1911 and 2005) in Taiwan, but featuring the same two actors. In "A Time for Love," the best and sweetest segment, a soldier and a pool hall hostess strike up a timid and shy romance; in "A Time for Freedom," a brothel madame yearns for a political activist for whom she's not allowed to articulate her feelings; and in "A Time for Youth" angst-filled 20 somethings navigate the tricky waters of both same-sex and opposite-sex relationships.All of the segments focus more on the female characters than they do the males, especially the second and third. The director uses clever devices to tie the three segments together, like the use of letters as the primary method of communication in the first and second segments, which morphs into cell phones and e-mails in the third. The whole movie has a languorous feel, as if the director is in no hurry to tell his story. However, this makes the movie feel unnecessarily long, especially given the slight plots that the three segments anchor themselves around. Indeed, the first segment is so touching and poignant, that the final two left me somewhat cold.An interesting Taiwanese film that's worth a look, but not an unequivocal success.Grade: B

It's so amusing to read the adoring, slavishly reverent attitudes of viewers who, I can only surmise, can not bring themselves to poo-poo an art film that so many critics have championed. This film is a disaster. There is no narrative to speak of in any of the three stories. The characters act as if embalmed. Scenes unfold at a glacial pace and sequences are repeated ad nauseam, e.g., the pool playing in the first story. The second segment should be laughed off the screen. How pretentious to watch the characters lips moving and then be shown in titles what they just said. This is film-making at the college sophomore level. And the third part is just one giant cliché about alienated youth. Just imagine!!! They have sex, they sing about being different, and they look at the Internet and find kinky Web sites. Shocking!! Don't believe the hype on this one. There is NOTHING there.

Taiwan, 1966. A time for love and romance, a time for dreamers. Dreamers like Chen, making his own motorbike sounds when he's on his bicycle, on his way to the pool bar where he always hangs out. He writes romantic letters to the girl who works there, and comes to see her one last time before joining the army. The young lady who works there tells him she's sorry, the girl isn't there, she's on her way to the station. A long silence follows. But… what is your name, Chen asks her. Her name is May.Chen writes romantic letters to May, and comes back to the pool bar to meet her on his one day leave. May isn't here, the new young lady who works there tells him. A long silence follows. But…. do you know where I can find her, Chen asks her.1966 is the time of true love and real romance, director Hou Hsiao Hsien tells us. With the Platters playing their soulful jukebox romance in the background, Chen and May slowly and carefully approach each other, in little words and subtle movements. The way May puts an ashtray on the side of the pool table while Chen is aiming for his shot with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, and the way Chen moves it away for May when it's her turn, it's just the little things that show the power of understanding, in a language without words. Romance under high voltage, where every moment they almost physically touch raises the intensity higher and higher.How different is the Taiwan occupied by Japan in 1911. A time for freedom? Surely not for the courtesan whose fate seems to be controlled by everyone but her. By the madam who rules the brothel where she works. By Ah Mei who would replace her as the top courtesan in time, but who gets pregnant and gets bought away by the father of her child to become one of his concubines. And by Mr Chang, who goes against his principles against keeping concubines, and closes the financial gap in the deal about Ah Mei's becoming one. He seems to do this out of love for the top courtesan, but all it achieves is that he prevents her liberty. Did he even think about that? A question that remains unanswered. All feelings remain unspoken in the Taiwan of 1911, which is stressed by the way this part is filmed as a silent movie, with inter-text pages for the dialogue. The only voice we hear is that of the musician, pointing out with her classical Asian songs that there is reality to this world.There isn't much reality to the Taipei of 2005. A time for youth? There's not a moment of piece for the youth in this rushed capital of Taiwan, where everyone is communicating like mad, and where you need a damn good explanation if your cell phone remained unanswered for a couple of hours. This world is as exhibitionist as it is rushed, every emotion is out on the streets and larger than life. Here, shyness only begins after intercourse. A world gone insane, ending on the back of the motorbike of your one week boyfriend, because your girlfriend just text messaged you about killing herself. A passionless choice for a temporary boyfriend, for lack of better options. At the moment.It is clear that Hou Hsiao Hsien sees true love in 1966, romanticizing it as much as possible. This way, the sixties are not only the time for love, but also the time for freedom, where people aren't ruled by traditions and formalities, aren't choked by time, stress and friends. And it also seems to be the time for youth, because back then, they could listen to their true feelings and go after their real passion. The youth of today? They show a flood of feelings and emotions, but were born with a hole in their hearts. Unspoken or flooded emotions, both lack true meaning. Between those two, there's a subtle world of difference.

This film is a darling of the critics. Roger Ebert gave it four stars; A. O. Scott of the NY Times describes it, on the DVD's box, as "a masterpiece," adding, "this is why cinema exists." That being the case, if you are, or aspire to be, a devotee of cinema, then this film may be required viewing. But if your sensibilities run toward (mere) movies, beware.The film, set in Taiwan and China, depicts three love stories -- set in three historical periods: 1911, 1966, and 2005 -- using the same actor and actress. The problem, simply put, is that "Three Times" moves at a glacial pace and little happens. As one of the few critics not to wax euphoric put it, "if this movie moved any slower it could qualify as a photograph." When each segment ended, and when the final credits rolled, the question plaintively asked by Peggy Lee came to mind: Is that all there is?