The River (1997)

Tsai Ming-Liang takes his ethos of alienation and pushes it to its extreme in this film, which features a family so out of touch with each other that we're halfway through the film before we realize they're all related. Some of the trademark Tsai touches of deadpan humor stick around to make this more than an unrelieved angstfest, but this is still pretty stark stuff. But however crushing or oppressive it may get, it is still also incredibly well-made and acted beautifully. (Also, I'd just like to say that Tsai's delicate directorial touch resulted in some of the most erotic sex scenes I've seen recently, which is an odd thing to be saying about a film in which sex is mainly used as an escape from pain but there you go.) It's carefully observed minimalism used to magnify lives in despair. It's not feel-good, but it's pretty vital anyway. Just remember to armor yourself for the ending, which takes the reigning metaphor and shoves it down a hole into some seriously disturbing territory.

Grade: B+