Three...Extremes: Dumplings
By Chris Hyde
October 19, 2004
Though Hong Kong director Fruit Chan usually works as an independent, his latest contribution, Three...Extremes: Dumplings, brings him to the mainstream.
Horror anthologies have a long history in the cinema, and in 2002 a pan-Asian entry called Three entered the fray with segments by filmmakers from Thailand, Hong Kong and Korea. (Nonzee Nimibutr, Peter Chan and Ji-woon Kim, respectively). This time around, the sequel to that successful outing (titled Three…Extremes) that played in Asian cinemas in 2004 had portions by prolific Japanese bad boy Takashi Miike, Korea’s Old Boy helmsman Park Chan-wook and Fruit Chan of Hong Kong. Though the theatrical release of this work was in the same trilogy format as the first, the initial DVD from Region Three of any of the material from this film is an extended 90 minute version of Fruit Chan’s juicy slice of the pie, a piece called Dumplings. (Aside: I’m not sure if the Japanese and Korean parts of Three…Extremes were also filmed in two versions, or even when the anthology itself will be released to DVD — though Lion’s Gate Films has bought the North American rights for the latter).
Before his contribution to Three…Extremes, Fruit Chan was mostly known for movies like Durian, Durian and Hollywood Hong Kong — artsier fare that tends to use unknowns as actors and that generally raise funds from sources outside the big players of the local industry. While some of his fans might consider this trip into the more professional world of Hong Kong film some sort of sellout, given the range of talent on display here it’s hard to blame the guy for taking a shot at a higher budget world than he’s used to. I mean, what self-respecting filmmaker would turn down a chance at being in charge of a production that stars Miriam Yeung, Bai Ling and Tony Leung Kar Fai and is shot by the brilliant cinematographer Christopher Doyle?
The film’s story centers on the two aforementioned actresses who take up the bulk of the time onscreen, either alone or in tandem. Miriam Yeung, whose previous turns were mainly in the genre of comedy, here plays an aging woman named Qing who is so desperate to hold onto her looks and her wandering husband (Tony Leung Kar Fai) that she’s willing to go to almost any lengths to recapture her lost vitality. Aiding her in this quest is Mei (Bai Ling), a black market midwife whose specialty is a form of dumpling that brings with it the promise of restored youthfulness. But while Mei’s xiao long bao possess a potency that makes them a nice elixir to combat the wages of time, what hides inside that thin wrapper might eventually be more problematic than those who gulp them down might hope.
While the themes of this film certainly don’t break a lot of new ground, Dumplings has a fresh perspective that ultimately helps in making the movie work. Though nominally a tale of terror, with Chan behind the camera this one actually plays much more as social commentary than any creaky old scarefest. In the hands of many genre craftsmen, the crux of this narrative would simply be the dumplings themselves and their potentially unsavory contents — but Chan dispenses with that surprise early on, preferring to center his focus on the quest for youth and beauty that dominates so many cultures across the world. Rather than hanging his whole project on the de rigueur shock ending that has so come to dominate the modern horror film, the director instead uses a measured and thoughtful approach that proves in the end to be much more satisfying than any potential revelatory finish might have been.
There’s plenty else to recommend Dumplings aside from the fascinating study that Fruit Chan makes of its subject; also bearing mention are the excellent dramatic turns of its cast and the always-stellar camerawork that is the trademark of the film’s director of photography. Whether the fragmented way in which the movie is framed is the primary responsibility of the director or cinematographer Doyle (or both), its tendency to show the characters in an fractured manner implies much about the way in which their lives are incomplete. Scenes are quite often shot with the principals wandering off of the edges or with a portion of their body just outside the camera’s purview; there’s no mistaking that the point is to demonstrate just how short of whole these people—and by inference, their society—truly are.
Backing up this perceptive form of the mise-en-scene of Dumplings are the high quality performances of the film’s three principals; Tony Leung Kar Fai is as solid as ever in his few scenes, Bai Ling (who inexplicably is now apparently the girlfriend of grizzled boozehound Doyle!) comports herself just fine although she’s the weakest of the trio and Miriam Yeung, who proves herself to have far more range in this one than she has demonstrated previously. Pop star Yeung is in actuality only 30-years-old, but carries off her part as an older woman so well that she is undoubtedly the film’s centerpiece. While it seems that everyone involved with this motion picture contributed in some way that aids in its effectiveness, it’s her performance that really gives the project the vitality and nuance that brings it off.
As yet only available in its Asian R3 DVD or VCD forms, Three…Extremes: Dumplings is certainly well worth seeking out if you’ve got the capacity to play it. Chinese speakers should be especially pleased, as the Mega Star disk comes with a “making of” featurette which really only has some Bai Ling dialogue for us English-only types. While watching this extended version from the anthology might somewhat spoil the cut down portion that we’ll eventually see in Three…Extremes, the film is so valuable in its own right that the sacrifice seems a small price to pay. For though Fruit Chan’s perceptive and artfully made work may at times be disturbing in execution and subject matter, the insight and craft with which it is made mark it as being a cut above the usual genre fare. Make no mistake: what is offered up here is a delicate and tasty cinematic morsel even though it might not go down all that easily at first. And you may also never look at that bamboo steamer full of shu mai in the same way ever again.
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