The Puppetmaster is a film that had intrigued me for several years. It competed at Cannes in 1993, has won several accolades and is highly regarded by critics and yet it virtually unknown to all but the most dedicated of cinephiles. Having seen a few of Director Hou Hsiao-hsien's films beforehand - such A City of Sadness and Dust in the Wind - I had some idea of what I was in for. However, while I found that the director's style worked for those films, I found the rigid formalism of Hou's direction in The Puppetmaster stifling to the point where I was, frankly, rather bored by the film.
The Puppetmaster is concerned with telling the first 35 years of the life of Li Tien-lu, a Taiwanese puppeteer in episodic format, alternating between dramatic reenactments of certain scenes of his life and interviews with the real Li in the then-present. The story serves as a window into what life was like during the fifty-year Japanese occupation of Taiwan and delves into Li's activities during that time, including performing Japanese propaganda in the form of puppet shows. Such a topic has the potential to be interesting; unfortunately, the presentation of the story is severely lacking.
The chief fault lies almost entirely with Hou's directorial style. The film is comprised almost entirely of long, static shots some distance away from the main action with no camera movement or close-ups. This is no doubt intentional, and in a film, the film resembles a puppet show in and of itself; however, such a presentation just is not cinematically interesting. Instead of watching a film, I feel like I am watching a play in a bad theater seat without the benefit of peripheral vision or the ability to look where I want to. There are times when actors disappear from the screen for several seconds to do something off-camera, and the audience is left staring at an empty room. It can also be difficult to differentiate the characters of connect with them in any way since all the action is taking place so far from the camera. It says something that the interviews with the older Li, shot in typical documentary "talking heads" style, is more engaging than the so-called dramatic reenactments.
Exacerbating the problem with Hou's directorial style is the fact that much of the film simply isn't that interesting. Most of the events that engaged me occur in the last third of the film and concern Li's involvement with Japanese wartime propaganda; the prior two thirds felt very dry in comparison and amount to little more than stereotypical "slice of life" type events. Of course, it doesn't help when the pacing slows to a crawl either, such as one scene where two characters are eating and no one talks for about two whole minutes of screentime or on another occasion where roughly a minute of screentime is devoted to watching people cross a bridge - shot at a great distance away with no zoom of course. It gets to the point where one wonders what exactly these scenes are contributing to the film.
Because of these stylistic choices, it is tough to judge the acting in the film. Indeed, one could make the case that they are merely puppets for the director to move about as he wills. I will say that no one gives a distractingly bad performance though I also feel obligated to point out that no one gives a performance that's all that memorable either. The real Li is - perhaps fittingly - the only memorable human presence in the film. And indeed, his rambling recollections of his life are oftentimes more entertaining that the reenactments themselves. As a quick aside however, the fact that Li rather cavalierly cheats on his wife and freely admits it certainly might rub some viewers the wrong way, almost pushing him into 'unsympathetic protagonist' territory without many redeeming features.
In terms of music, the score is primary composed of source music and works well enough although it can get a little repetitive at times with the same instruments (chiefly percussion instruments) being used over and over. The few tracks of incidental music are well composed, particularly the track used in the final scene of the film. The cinematography is well lit and helps make the bland staging of the dramatic reenactments more bearable. Editing wise, I suppose little could be done given Hou's style for the film, but I feel several minutes could have been taken out of the film and it would not unduly suffer.
In conclusion, The Puppetmaster is best described as a cinema curio that I would only recommend to those who are fans of Hou Hsiao-hsien's work. Even more ardent cinephiles are likely to find themselves bored at times by the film which suffers chiefly because of the director's stylistic choices. That and the somewhat dull nature of the first two thirds of the film overwhelm its technical competency and leave it with a middling 5/10 grade from me.
The Puppetmaster is concerned with telling the first 35 years of the life of Li Tien-lu, a Taiwanese puppeteer in episodic format, alternating between dramatic reenactments of certain scenes of his life and interviews with the real Li in the then-present. The story serves as a window into what life was like during the fifty-year Japanese occupation of Taiwan and delves into Li's activities during that time, including performing Japanese propaganda in the form of puppet shows. Such a topic has the potential to be interesting; unfortunately, the presentation of the story is severely lacking.
The chief fault lies almost entirely with Hou's directorial style. The film is comprised almost entirely of long, static shots some distance away from the main action with no camera movement or close-ups. This is no doubt intentional, and in a film, the film resembles a puppet show in and of itself; however, such a presentation just is not cinematically interesting. Instead of watching a film, I feel like I am watching a play in a bad theater seat without the benefit of peripheral vision or the ability to look where I want to. There are times when actors disappear from the screen for several seconds to do something off-camera, and the audience is left staring at an empty room. It can also be difficult to differentiate the characters of connect with them in any way since all the action is taking place so far from the camera. It says something that the interviews with the older Li, shot in typical documentary "talking heads" style, is more engaging than the so-called dramatic reenactments.
Exacerbating the problem with Hou's directorial style is the fact that much of the film simply isn't that interesting. Most of the events that engaged me occur in the last third of the film and concern Li's involvement with Japanese wartime propaganda; the prior two thirds felt very dry in comparison and amount to little more than stereotypical "slice of life" type events. Of course, it doesn't help when the pacing slows to a crawl either, such as one scene where two characters are eating and no one talks for about two whole minutes of screentime or on another occasion where roughly a minute of screentime is devoted to watching people cross a bridge - shot at a great distance away with no zoom of course. It gets to the point where one wonders what exactly these scenes are contributing to the film.
Because of these stylistic choices, it is tough to judge the acting in the film. Indeed, one could make the case that they are merely puppets for the director to move about as he wills. I will say that no one gives a distractingly bad performance though I also feel obligated to point out that no one gives a performance that's all that memorable either. The real Li is - perhaps fittingly - the only memorable human presence in the film. And indeed, his rambling recollections of his life are oftentimes more entertaining that the reenactments themselves. As a quick aside however, the fact that Li rather cavalierly cheats on his wife and freely admits it certainly might rub some viewers the wrong way, almost pushing him into 'unsympathetic protagonist' territory without many redeeming features.
In terms of music, the score is primary composed of source music and works well enough although it can get a little repetitive at times with the same instruments (chiefly percussion instruments) being used over and over. The few tracks of incidental music are well composed, particularly the track used in the final scene of the film. The cinematography is well lit and helps make the bland staging of the dramatic reenactments more bearable. Editing wise, I suppose little could be done given Hou's style for the film, but I feel several minutes could have been taken out of the film and it would not unduly suffer.
In conclusion, The Puppetmaster is best described as a cinema curio that I would only recommend to those who are fans of Hou Hsiao-hsien's work. Even more ardent cinephiles are likely to find themselves bored at times by the film which suffers chiefly because of the director's stylistic choices. That and the somewhat dull nature of the first two thirds of the film overwhelm its technical competency and leave it with a middling 5/10 grade from me.