Winds of September (2008, Dir. Tom Yu-Shu Lin):
One inevitable consequence when a national cinema comes of age is a new wave of filmmakers who pay homage, however subsconciously, to the old guard. Case in point: Winds of September, a Taiwanese coming-of-age story involving wayward teenagers that takes its cues from some of the old masters, most notably Edward Yang’s A Brighter Summer Day and Hou Hsiao-Hsien’s A Time to Live, a Time to Die. Produced by Eric Tsang as the first of a trio of movies focused on youth (the other two entries are from mainland China and Hong Kong), Winds of September is set in 1996 and follows the fortunes of seven near-delinquent high schoolers in the suburban city of Hsinchu, Taiwan. Obsessed with baseball and motorcycles, the gang is led by matinee-handsome Yen (Rhydian Vaughan), who isn’t above cheating on his girlfriend Yun (Jennifer Chu). When Yen’s best buddy Tang (lanky, gawky Chang Chieh), who happens to be fixated on Yun, gets beaten up when a cuckolded boyfriend confuses him for Yen, the gang’s camaraderie is put to the test, and their eventual dissolution is mirrored by the fortunes of their favorite baseball team as it gets hit with scandal. Throw in a traffic accident and you have the recipe for bittersweet tragedy.
Winds of September is an affectionate look at a particular place and time that is nonetheless pretty universal in its specifics (although many of the incidents in this film are no doubt from director Tom Lin’s personal history). We have the playboy rebel, the awkward give-and-take of adolescent romance, the macho hijinks, the disapproving parents. The film also follows the template that established Taiwanese cinema as a force in the ’80s — character-centric drama, painterly cinematography (courtesy of Fisher Yu), a preference for small moments instead of big dramatic flourishes. With the exception of Yen and Tang, the characters are more types than flesh-and-blood people, but all the young actors do yeoman work, and there’s an undeniable momentum in the story’s progression, as we move from winsome slice-of-life humor to the death of innocence and friendships.
But therein lies the rub — the trajectory of the film is pretty clear from the start, and as solid as the filmmaking is, Winds of September lacks an extra dimension that lifts it above anecdote. Compare its A-to-B narrative to the work of Hou Hsiao Hsien and Edward Yang, who are in full, inquisitive engagement with their worlds: their films are brave enough to wander down interesting byways and subplots, interested just as much in societal milieu as by their characters’ foibles. When one watches A Brighter Summer’s Day, one gets to linger in a universe rife with details — Winds of September is more like a bubblegum card (or maybe baseball card is more appropriate, given the film’s preoccupation with the sport), spiffy with highlights but more easily forgotten.
