Hot Docs - Ping Pong with The Record Breaker

Both Films: ****

In terms of sport, ping pong hardly ranks amongst the Top 20 of physically challenging activities. But… Maybe that’s because you’re not a senior citizen over the age of 80. For octogenarians around the world, ping pong is not just a hobby, but a lifestyle. It sharpens the mind and the reflexes, and sometimes it provides an escape. Or it provides hope. It can mean so much to people, and just generally be life affirming. And that’s the spirit that Hugh Hartford captures in his documentary simply titled Ping Pong.

The film follows about eight different ping pong players from around the world as they descend on China for the world championships of table tennis. There’s Terry, who supposedly has a week to live and seems to keep living through the magic of ping pong; German Inga lives in a home because she has dementia, but she’s as sharp as anyone half her age at the table; and Dorothy, from Australia, is officially over the century mark age-wise, but she can still take on all contenders, even abandoning her wheelchair when its game time.

There’s about 703 years of life experience between all the various players, so there’s a lot of great insight aside from just being kind of life affirming. It reminded me of Young at Heart, a doc that was released a few years ago about a group of seniors in a choir singing rock hits. It’s more than just a “aren’t old people funny” kind of thing, but you really appreciate the positive effects of ping pong on them, and how, in some cases, the sport has literally saved their lives.

The actual competition portion of Ping Pong goes by too fast, and I think that could have easily been stretched out a bit longer, and as consequence of that, I think some of the characters get more screen time than others. The build-up is very, very solid, but the competition and the denouement of the stories kind of go by without really leaving an emotional effect. But what’s surprising is that it doesn’t matter that much, because the film is funny and effecting with what it does, and it proves affirmatively that there’s life after 80.

Ping Pong is well matched with The Record Breaker, a short film about Ashrita Furman, a Queens man that holds the record for the most records in the Guinness Book of World Records. I think there’s an argument that can be made for the quality of records like walking up a mountain on stilts or cutting apples with a samurai sword, but what is unavoidable is Furman’s zest for life, and his proactive promotion of an active lifestyle. Because Furman is so giddy about being The Record Breaker, and because he’s such a complex and interesting character, this film is definitely a winner.

Hot Docs - Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry

 

Rating: ****

Ai Weiwei is a giant in Chinese arts scene, a giant in the international arts community, and a giant pain in the butt for the Chinese government. Despite China’s reputation as a place that clamps down hard on any and all criticism, Ai Weiwei stood boldly in contrast, poking and prodding the state, practically daring them to “black bag” him. For a minute there last year, it seemed that Ai Weiwei had finally been silenced, but international response was resounding, and after 81 days he was released from custody.

Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry offers incredible access into the artist and his world, but it’s also a serendipitous chronicle of the weeks leading up to Ai Weiwei’s arrest and the events that may have been the last draw for the Chinese government. In stark contrast to his homeland, Ai Weiwei is open and engaged, willing to be questioned and challenged in conversation. He really is the perfect subject matter for a documentary, and is a thoroughly captivating character.

But beyond the hindsight build up to Ai Weiwei’s arrest, director Alison Klayman plays with a number of themes: the fine line between art and activism, working within and without strict state-run censorship, and trying to promote change from the outside while still working from the inside. It’s heady stuff, but Ai Weiwei is such a relatable figure. Quite often the arts seem impenetrable to the layman, and the discussion of it requires a language most people don’t understand. But Ai Weiwei and his work flies in the face of that.

What’s weird is that in the midst of being surveilled and continually, sometimes literally, sticking his middle finger out to the Chinese government, you’re never concerned for Ai Weiwei, even if you have some idea what’s coming. He’s a rebel with a cause, and a glass half-full disposition. The film too is an extension of the artist’s spirit, not preaching, not condemning, and not afraid. The dividing line between art and politics falls away, and for Ai Weiwei, his politics become his art. Or vice versa.

Klayman effortlessly balances a lot of balls in the air and manages to tell a story that’s biographical, political, cultural and human. It’s all of those things and none of them. At least all that once. It’s a fascinating trip inside the mind of a man that shares his uniqueness without having to deconstruct the magic out of it.

True Legend

Rating: ***1/2

My introduction to the high brow martial arts movie came in the winter of 2001 when I saw Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon on the big screen at The Bookshelf Cinema in Guelph. It had people running on the tops of trees, flipping through the air in gravity-defying fashion and an epic story of love, revenge and mystical swords. I was familiar with Bruce Lee and the Ninja Turtles, but this was the movie that blew my mind about the possibilities of martial arts movies, their potential grandeur and mythology. May the movie gods forgive me, but I was young and naïve.

Now the average movie goer may be more familiar with the work of Yuen Woo Ping as a fight choreographer than his nearly four decades of collected works as a filmmaker. Yuen is the guy that helped Neo bounce off walls in The Matrix, assisted The Bride in her mission to Kill Bill, and made the characters of Crouching Tiger fly through the air with tremendous grace. He also has nearly 30 films under his belt, and his latest is True Legend, an epic martial arts film that features mesmerizing fight scenes and a story that is at times equal parts vintage Shakespeare and ludicrous chop-socky.

The thing about True Legend is that the film has those two modes; very different in tone, and immediately jarring when Yuen makes the switch, but the two sides of the film do end up flowing together in unexpected ways. On the one hand, the film is about revenge, betrayal, jealousy and loss, but as our hero Su (Vincent Zhao) traverses the cities and wilderness of 19th century China, he overcomes adversity through either self-delusion or the wisdom of the town drunk. Weirder still is that in watching True Legend, though the wild swings of story’s tone disorient you briefly, you end up just going with it. And better still, it all makes perfect sense to you in the end.

Zhao’s Su is first seen as a skilled and beloved general in the Qing dynasty. After successfully rescuing a captured prince (Jacky Heung), Su is offered a governorship in gratitude. No, that’s okay, he says, you should really give it to my foster brother, Yuan (Andy On). All I want to do is settle down with my wife, start a family and become a Wu Shu master, and then teach others. Now that I think about it, that’s pretty much how Maximus got rolling in Gladiator. Well, without the Wu Shu part. And like Russell Crowe’s muscle bound swordsman, Su is going to feel the sting of betrayal by a brother.

The dark story is that Yuan and his sister Ying (Zhou Xun), who is now Su’s wife, were taken in by Su’s father after he killed their birth father for learning the ways of the dark art called the Five Venom Fists technique. That kind of sounds like Star Wars now that I think about it. I guess the point is that Yuen is playing with some pretty broad archetypes. And despite Su’s belief that Yuan is now returning in peace, his father’s opinion turns out to be dead on, literally, about Yuan’s true intentions. In the process, Su himself is near-mortally injured and tossed into a rapidly-flowing river. Ying dives in after him in an attempted rescue and their little boy, Feng, is left to be taken away as his uncle’s pet nephew.

The story is pretty standard, but Yuen infuses the film with real zest and some beautifully choreographed fight sequences. Yuen shoots the fights with real flow, allowing the viewer to drink in the grace and elegance of the fisticuffs, which are only rarely accentuated with any kind of heavy CGI. What is interesting about True Legend is that it was originally shot for 3-D presentation in China, and although I have grown tired with 3-D infused Hollywood blockbusters (like so many others) seeing True Legend in its original third dimension is an experience I wouldn’t mind having.

The actors were also great, and not just for their kung fu (or wu shu as the case may be). I loved Zhao’s wide-eyed optimist turned downtrodden vengeance seeker because he was really able to sell both parts. On is cold as ice as Yuan, but there’s a madness underneath his steel that On underplays really well. I was also impressed Li Zo and Suen Hanwen, the young actors that played Su’s son Feng. Michelle Yoeh, who I like to classify as the Meryl Streep of martial arts movies, has a cameo, as does the dearly departed David Carradine in one his final movie roles.

In the midst of a disappointing blockbuster season at the movies, fans looking for something new, and exciting, and off the beaten path might appreciate the artistry and traditional-style epic quality of True Legend. The action is great, there’s some real emotion to the story, and the fight choreography makes the kung fu fighters in the average martial arts picture look like they’re wearing cement overshoes. It may not have pushed my hair back like that fist time I saw Crouching Tiger, but it’s refreshing like a cold drink on a summer’s day.

True Legend is now playing at theatres in Toronto and Vancouver.