'Goodbye, Dragon Inn' Review: The death of a cinema

I've been craving some more Asian cinema lately, wanting to find some inspiration in their often colourful scenes and beautiful narratives that explore everyday people. The New Wave ere of Hong Kong, the Taiwan arthouse era that came around the same time. Even that brief few years of highly experimental and artistic Chinese cinema. Each of which have somewhat faded off into time and replaced in one way or another with something that doesn't quite land the same. Perhaps a result of changing times and techniques as well as ideas. As well as the film industry itself. That last one seemingly more important regarding this title: Goodbye, Dragon Inn. A film from a very visionary Tsai Ming-liang. Known for his lengthy films often with the same cast, which feature very real concepts on life and characters. Often with minimal editing done. In recent years the director has shifted his interests quite a bit with the way he directs and tells stories, though his past shows a stronger connection to his environments.

Goodbye, Dragon Inn is a film that displays a strong sadness for the ways in which cinema has changed. It directly reflects the changing times as it handles the concepts of cinemas dying. Their closures as art is cared for less and less. Tsai Ming-liang looks at the past in which films were cared for, where films were more experimental and visionary, trying to pursue meaningful ideas and tell stories to the world. Where those stories are now rarely given any attention. It speaks on the collapse of the storytelling medium, with the pursuit of cultural shifts as well as economical factors. Upon seeing the director's name attached to the title, I knew this was going to be an interesting ride.

Cinema can be more than mere entertainment for the masses. It can be a way to look back into our pasts and connect us with those before. To show us stories that portray our greatest challenges and achievements. To display the beauty of our cultures and keep us connected with them. Many don't quite realise this, nor the importance of preserving such concepts through the arts. When a society begins to forget the importance of the cinema, the very surroundings of the area begin to crumble. Goodbye, Dragon Inn displays the impacts a cinema's closure has on those who have spent so many years there spreading stories. As well as the few that hold the strong feels of nostalgia for the previous, more energetic times in which both films and the cinema was full of the vibrancy of life. The way the film starts off this concept is really beautiful, and is typical still to this day with how the director displays spaces.

Wide angle perspectives with leading lines that have us looking throughout the image to see the different actions of people as well as the changing of space. The film taking place on a dull and rainy night, with the constant ambience of rainfall to be heard. Tsai Ming-liang loves using simple ambience to connect the audience to the location. Where there's no music. No dialogue. Just raw sounds of people living and moving within the rooms. It gives us a more personal look into the characters, their motions and the speed of them, telling us much about their character and lifestyles with so little. Here it's really effective; near silence within the ticket hall of the cinema, where all that can be heard is the rain outdoors and the cluttering of metallic pans from food and drink for warmth. What adds to this is the cinematography. The look of an old and rundown Taipei. Where buildings are met with darker colours holding contrast with artificial light. It gives the environment that end of life feeling. That forgotten in time aesthetic in which places look very much lived-in and now abandoned. Where the care is now long gone.

For the most part the film is like being a silent observer watching ghosts roam around a place they once held a stronger connection to. Though we're watching life unfold as it is. Fixed camera perspectives in some more unique angles gives this feeling at times. As the final film continues to play to a small audience. As people roam around the cinema performing various actions. From using the toilets to roaming the corridors almost as if to imply a restless spirit that has been searching for something for generations. With a short runtime of 120 minutes you really feel each passing minute. There's a melancholy to each scene in one way or another.

This felt exactly like a film from this director would. The same style he holds to this day. The same slow pace of very photographic imagery with minimal movement. The scenes of life unfolding with little to no dialogue. This won't be a film for everyone, his films definitely don't manage to land with the majority of audiences. But if you're into the slower, more artistic style of filmmaking in which most is said through visuals, then this is definitely for you.