NekoHomey Purely Joyful Movie!

Curapedi I cannot think of one single thing that I would change about this film. The acting is incomparable, the directing deft, and the writing poignantly brilliant.

Neive Bellamy Excellent and certainly provocative... If nothing else, the film is a real conversation starter.

Deanna There are moments in this movie where the great movie it could've been peek out... They're fleeting, here, but they're worth savoring, and they happen often enough to make it worth your while.

Harry T. Yung Only two more days to see how well Zhangke Jia's current entry to Cannes "Ash is purest white" will do. As I have not even seen that film, let alone other entries, I really have no idea. "Mountains may depart" (2015) was good enough to be a contender three years ago although it did not bring home the Palme d'Or for Jia. Before going into that film, let's take a brief stroll down memory lane of this auteur director. From the very start in his "Fengyang (his home town) trilogy" in the mid-1990s, with his minimalist style, pain sticking attention to details and a heart that embraces whatever he tries to capture in his films, sixth generation director Jia has stayed true to his course, not succumbing to impersonating Hollywood as some of the fifth-generation directors did, pathetically. "Xiao Wu" (1997), the middle of the aforementioned trilogy, with no plot or story, is a character depiction of a petty thief, personification of a loser. "The world" (2004), treading ever so slightly towards mainstream, continues his quest of reflecting the sometimes-painful metamorphosis that the Chinese populace was going through at the crossroad of modernization (seems so long ago now, looking back). Next came "Still life" (2006), original title "good folks of The Gorges" (not to be confused with Brecht's "Good woman of Szechwan), which won the Golden Lion at Venice. "Still life" has a story, in fact two, but is still thankfully a far cry from mainstream melodrama. Using unrelated micro stories of two protagonists, together with the macro backdrop of the Three Gorges Dam project, Jia continues to explore how life of the ordinary people is affected. With "24 City" (2008), Jia explores new grounds, using not a person but a structure of concrete and steel as the main protagonist. This is the mesmerizing story of the transformation of "Factory 420" (an aviation engine factory built in 1958) to a modern-day upscale apartment complex "24 City", which in turn serves as a motif for witnessing the vicissitudes and development of the city Chengdu. "Mountains may depart", in three "acts" dated at 1999, 2004 and 2025 respectively, follows the life of a rather ordinary woman called SHEN Tao, portrayed by ZHAO Tao (I notice that in many films, in whatever language, the name of the actor is adapted for the protagonist, for simplicity's sake, I guess). Zhao, starting out from day-one as Jia's muse and sole non-amateur in the cast, married him in 2011. By that time Jia had been using some professional actors but Zhao continues to have the lead role. Set in Fengyang, Act 1 (1999) is familiar love triangle involving two suitors, Zhang the extrovert, an ambitious business man and Liang the introvert, down-to-earth coal-miner. Shen makes a not-unexpected choice and Liang leaves, taciturn outwardly and hurt deep inside. Shen marries Zhang. Act 2 (2004) follows the trajectory of two lives. Liang now has a loving and understanding wife who has given him a son (a toddler at this point). Like many coal miners, he is inflicted with lung disease. Desperation to borrow money for the medical bills brings them back to Fengyang where his wife seeks out Shen, who is well off and more than happy to help out. Shen has divorced Zhang who is now a successful businessman, remarried, living in Shanghai with custody of their son Daole (for "dollar") who goes to international school. Upon the death of Shen's father, Daole comes back (by himself, escorted by a flight attendant) to bid his grandfather a last farewell at the funeral. The scenes between mother and son are heartbreaking, as Zhang has been planning to immigrate to Australia with Daole.Act 3 (2025, but not far enough to be SciFi), is set in Australia with dialogue mostly in English, depicts the relationship teenager Daole has with two people, his father which has deteriorated beyond remedy and teacher Mai (Sylvia Chang) which is tantalizingly vague. Zhen appears only at the very end, living by herself in Beijing. I have intentionally left out all the details, the depiction of which is Jia's forte. While staying essentially art-house, this film has come a long way in becoming accessible to the mainstream audience. The range and depth of emotions is more than in any of his earlier film. Zhao has done a splendid job, breaking the audience's heart again and again. You will also note Jia's penchant for motifs. He uses a lot here, from a towering pagoda, to a glaring red wedding invitation card, to a small key. No one can convey so much through these visual images as Jia can.

elision10 The thoughtful critiques of other reviewers pretty much say it all. But I did want to add that Zhangke fans may feel disappointed by this effort. His prior films like The World and Still Life have an a lyrical quality that for me is subtle and moving, even when I didn't understand exactly what was going on. This film is more pedestrian. The first two segments are enjoyable but nothing unusual, even at times a bit mundane. The third and final segment is like the last season of Gilmore Girls or recent episodes of Modern Family, ie, in spots still intriguing but overall disappointing. If you're new to Zhangke I would try some of his other films first to get a better sense of what makes this director so special.

Eric Gifford Read full review here: http://bit.ly/2eo9O3dSomewhere in Mountains May Depart there's a quote I can't recall that says, effectively, you can't spend your entire life with any one other person. While this may not be categorically true, if you think through the eras of a life - as a baby, toddler, childhood, teenager, young adult, middle-age, and so on - it is unlikely that any one person will be a part of your daily interactions throughout. Considering that, it can be true that the impact someone has on your life may be greater than the portion of time you spend with them. Through a handful of characters whose lives intertwine over three distinct periods of time - 1999, 2014, & 2025 - Chinese-born director Jia Zhangke explores and rejoices in the emotional resonance of our relationships in Mountains May Depart.The three epochs of the film are each brilliantly conceived aesthetically to provide a subtle atmospheric guide to the scenes they are home to within the story. The boxy, more realistic and grainy style of the 1999 sequence - designed to match actual documentary footage the director and his cinematographer shot from the same period - is a little more raw, like the youthful emotions the characters experience in their mid-20's. Here we have a love triangle where our central character, Tao, is confronted with a choice between the brash, rich, and charming Jinsheng and the humble coal-miner Liangzi. The 2014 section is a wider aspect ratio with a higher quality, yet natural visual reflecting Tao's middle-aged experience. Life's lessons have provided a bit more perspective and the muted colors are like some of her dreams that haven't worked out as planned. She's divorced and facing a continental estrangement from her 7-year old son. A fully widescreen format with an artificial, over-developed HD quality evokes a 2025 that is equally more advanced and more separated from the past. This is the backdrop as Tao's son Dollar has to learn why he feels unsettled in a life he's done little to create for himself. Here, in a bit of an Oedipal twist, he develops a relationship with a surrogate mother of sorts that reminds the youth, now so far removed from his past that he can't even speak his first language, where he came from. For the first time of his own volition he makes the choice to search and reach backwards so that he can progress and grow. It hurts. You don't know if he achieves what he's reaching for but the important thing is that he chooses to do it.Zhangke uses artifacts from his own life, from pop-culture, and of a more universal nature to serve as totems for emotional relationships that bridge the difference timelines. In 1999 Tao is young and bright, greeting each moment with a smile. She rejoices in music and food that bring her joy. Later in 2014 she faces losing everyone that is or has been important to her and these things become tools for holding on to what she's lost. A divorce left her with lots of money and a lost custody battle for her young son, whose father is abandoning all remnants of their culture and taking him to Australia. After panicking, Tao resolves to make the most impact she can on the impressionable and hungry heart of her little boy. She prepares several tokens for him to keep close through taste, touch, sound and feeling, as they will become further away than ever. The keys she gives Dollar are based on the director's own mother doing the same for him. It's possible she may never know the impact they have in his life but they become figuratively the keys to his unlocking his own freedom (see what I did there??) as he comes of age in 2025. These tokens used throughout the film, and especially two key pieces of music and the light-touch score from Yoshihiro Hanno, immediately have the same effect on the viewer each time they are re-introduced to signify a key relationship and emotion whose origin may be otherwise untraceable to the characters.

Sergeant_Tibbs Mountains May Depart starts on perhaps my favourite opening shot of the year. Kicking it off with the Pet Shop Boys' vibrant song "Go West," we're straight in the middle of a dance routine with a room full of people clumsily bopping in sync. It's infectious and filled with unbridled hope and joy. Unfortunately, it's downhill from here, though the film is never aiming for the same type of exuberance. I'm not familiar with Jia Zhangke or his following – Walter Salles apparently has a hotly anticipated documentary about the director at this festival – but Mountains May Depart seems like an endearing and accessible introduction. Telling three stories in three separate time periods, I do enjoy the way it explores causality in how these small relationships and dramas at one time can feed into a dilemma 25 years later.The first story, set during the turn of the century in 1999 when Chinese capitalism was healthy, follows a love triangle between Tao, an aerobics instructor, Zhang, an egotistic entrepreneur, and Liangzi, a man who works for Zhang. The three hang out as friends but Zhang can't bear the idea of Tao getting close to Liangzi and despite emotional logic, it's social economical pressures that make decisions. Cut to 2014, Tao and her beau have divorced and she's now estranged from her son. Upon the death of her father, her son is forced to visit and she must make the decision of how connected she should be to him throughout his life. Then off to an imagined Australia in 2025, her son doesn't remember her and currently struggles with his relationship with his father where they now have a language barrier. With the help of a teacher he grows attached to, he goes in search for Tao.Each section of the film is approached in a different way, reminiscent of the way last year's The Grand Budapest Hotel and Mommy played with ratios. The first section is a tight 4:3, the second is a full frame, and the third is widescreen. However, these feel like they represent the period and the environment moreso than the character's emotions, with exception to the mid- section, which ideally captures Tao's regret and longing. It's a mixed bag depending on the talent, with some tender moments landing strong and some clumsily misguided, the latter most prominent in the last section. That first section has a bait and switch for the decades long heartache that the seemingly innocent love triangle causes. The theme of how people drift apart no matter how close they are resonates but it's unbearably melancholic without Zhangke offering much of a satisfying a silver lining.It's a shame that despite the film's strengths it has too many loose ends and unnecessary moments that don't appear to add to the character arcs or the themes. With a 25 year story like this where no single character carries us through the whole film, every moment has to count to something. There's little justification as to why the third section is in glorious widescreen and set in Australia, but perhaps this just speaks to how disconnected it is from the rest of the film. While mostly drenched in Chinese culture, I wish Zhangke didn't resort to certain American clichés such as sad montages of characters having deep thoughts set to music. However, with those time gaps, Zhangke does harness a powerful nostalgic through just a few song motifs carried through all three sections that are well executed. Both disarmingly simple and complex, his ambition is admirable, but it doesn't quite reach the potential that this expanse allows it to travel.7/10Read more @ The Awards Circuit (http://www.awardscircuit.com/)