Rizi (2020)

Directed by: Tsai Ming-liang | 127 minutes | drama | Actors: Lee Kang-sheng, Anong Houngheuangsy

Slow cinema is a growing trend within the arthouse genre. By slow cinema we mean films that use a minimalist approach, with little action and drama, and a lot of atmosphere and reflection. Longtakes are often used here, which should carry the viewer into the meditative story of the film.

The value of slow cinema has been discussed for years. Does this approach produce in-depth movies? Or is this nothing but pretense? Opinions differ. Still, that doesn’t stop filmmakers from wallowing in this controversial trend. One of the figureheads of slow cinema is Tsai Ming-liang, a leading figure in the Taiwanese film world. With his new film ‘Rizi’ he once again makes clear why his name is associated with this movement.

In ‘Rizi’ we follow the daily life of the middle-aged Kang (Lee Kang-Sheng) and the younger Non (Anong Houngheuangsy). Both men live alone, and both seem to be consumed by immense loneliness. We usually follow their movements from a distance. We witness their forays into the city, watch them perform everyday activities, such as peeling a cucumber and cleaning a head of lettuce, and watch them move through their homes like snails. At one point, Kang and Non meet. Something seems to be blossoming between the two. And then the film ends, as suddenly as their meeting.

Maybe it’s a sincere effort. Maybe it’s a tuned joke. Anyway, ‘Rizi’, a 127-minute film about two men wandering around Taiwan, is a frustrating viewing experience. About 10 minutes long, the film is mysterious enough to fool us into thinking that Tsai Ming-liang is up to something. That hope lingers for another 10 to 20 minutes. But Ming-liang is doing nothing but bluffing here, and with each passing minute, the desire for another pastime grows.

‘Rizi’ has no traces of plot or character development. There are no dialogues, nor visualizations of thoughts or feelings. Lee Kang-Sheng and Anong Houngheuangsy do their best to portray the characters, but they are offered hardly any useful material. No attempt is made to explore their inner thoughts, and as a result we never get a real sense of what’s going on in their heads. The characters are used here as living manifestations of loneliness, and not as real flesh-and-blood people. That’s not nearly as interesting as Ming-liang probably thinks it is.

A lack of pre-chewing does not necessarily have to be a disadvantage. Look at Edward Yang, a filmmaker who rose to fame in Taiwan during the same period as Tsai Ming-liang. With films such as ‘Taipei Story’ (1985) and ‘Yi Yi’ (2000), Yang showed that silence and minimalism can be perfectly combined with substance and character development. Edward Yang’s films make you think, but at the same time offer a sense of humanity that grips and moves you. That beating heart is missing in ‘Rizi’. The actors do their best and the film has beautiful cinematography, but in the end Tsai Ming-liang falls short.

‘Rizi’ shows that every movement has its limits, and that slow cinema is no exception. Tastes differ, but no one likes to look at drying paint on a wall, no matter how beautiful the colors are.