REVIEWED - CAFÉ LUMIÈRE (KÔHÎ JIKÔ): Hou Hsiao-Hsien, the Taiwanese master of the static shot, was commissioned to direct this elegantly composed film to celebrate the centenary of the birth of Yasujiro Ozu. Some have seen Café Lumière as an imitation of the Japanese director's unhurried style, though Tony Rayns, one of the most distinguished British authorities on Asian cinema, has firmly argued that it is no such thing.
At any rate, the film carries flavours of the director of Tokyo Story. There is a fascination with trains. We see different generations interacting. The camera spends much of its time stubbornly settled at chest level. Even if it was not intended as imitation or pastiche, it will work as such.
Café Lumière relates incidents in the life of Yoko (Yo Hitoto), a young Japanese writer recently returned from Taiwan. She visits her parents and tells them that she is pregnant, but has no interest in marrying. She discusses a series of unusual dreams with Hajime (Tadanobu Asano), who assists her with her research into a Taiwanese composer. A grave is cleaned. Other events almost happen.
A difficulty of Hou's style is that all that stasis calls undue attention to what little movement there is. When an unexpected pan occurs in Café Lumière the effect is similar to a whole squadron of helicopters exploding in a Michael Bay film.
Never mind. This remains a captivating picture that, in its depictions of trains constantly passing close to one another, gets across ideas about the lack of connection in modern life. You wouldn't call it profound. And you certainly wouldn't call it exciting. But Café Lumière offers viewers a rewardingly calm place to dwell for an hour or so.
