Back in the days of my youth, I had the privilege of taking a few college courses on the nature of filmmaking.
One of the biggest lessons I can recall is that – aesthetically – techniques should be avoided when and if their use pushes the audience out of the viewing experience. While it sounded simple to my uneducated ears, the concept quickly grew a bit more complex; and the professor criticized such things as having characters speak directly to the camera as well as visual tricks (i.e. split screens, text overlays, some optical inserts, etc.) as being practices that by the very nature interrupt an established narrative flow. His point was that, in a theater, one is supposed to observe, not read. When thrown out of the story even for an instant, the viewer gets reminded that he or she are safe, not part of what’s happening, and merely witnessing the action. Sitting in the auditorium, he or she are instead watching a story unfold more as a consumer technologically invested in the events as opposed to, say, being a voyeur watching things occur organically. In some cases, visual trickery pulls back the curtain in such a way that it hijacks entirely what living experience looks like (or should look like), turning the film or television episode into nothing more than images rendered with nothing relatable expressed.
(College. Am I right?)
Experience has shown me that such a position – while critically laudable – isn’t always the way storytelling works most impactfully, especially in the modern era. Today, audiences have grown vastly more tech-savvy than they were back in the 80’s and 90’s; and a growing number of projects have specifically made exceptional use of visual inserts and even ‘breaking the fourth wall’ to the point wherein I can’t imagine returning to a day wherein these things didn’t transpire in some way. Granted, they probably should still be used sparingly – I don’t think I’ve ever seen split screen used wherein something less intrusive would’ve worked as well – but the point here is that when it comes to winning over the audience a director should minimally to welcome whatever bold new strategy he or she thinks works best.
All of this brings me to The Eye (2002), a rather entertaining flick that – with a few others – deservedly helped shine a bit of light on the emerging Asian Horror market. Written and directed by the team of Danny Pang and Oxide Chun Pang (with some screenwriting contributions also attributed to Yuet-Jan Hui), the picture starred Angelica Lee, Chutcha Rujinanon, Lawrence Chou, Candy Lo, Yut Lai So, and others. Its story bobs and weaves around the possible spectral connections passed from one person to another when a corneal transplant unexpectedly opens the door into the world of the supernatural for the recipient; and what emerges is a smart examination of the psychological impact such revelations render as a consequence of the exchange.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A blind girl gets a cornea transplant so that she will be able to see again. She gets more than she bargained for upon realizing she can also see ghosts.”
The Eye opens with a bit of cinematic trickery that some might think was a waste of a modest gag. Essentially, audiences were made to believe that the first reel was playing only to have it very quickly seized up and frozen in place. When this happened historically, the film itself would overheat from the constant exposure of the projector lamp; and it wasn’t uncommon for the strip to fully melt in front of the eyes of the audience. What follows is a bit of a jump scare with noise, only for the story to then kinda/sorta reset with the actual yarn being spun taking place.
In the past, such a deliberate subterfuge was like thought to be trickery beneath the skills of good storytellers as well as a cheap feint pulled on the viewers; but – for what it’s worth – this maneuver might be seen today as demonstrating what the remaining 100 minutes proves but in a lean and mean few seconds. That is “don’t always believe what you see at your own peril.”
Wong Kar-mun (played brilliantly by Angelica Lee) has been blind from an early age. When the opportunity for her sight to be returned via transplant, she welcomes the chance to experience all of her senses once again. Slowly over the course of a few days, she begins to make the recovery to the point wherein muddled light and shadows begin to take shape; and yet there’s often a curiously obscured figure in the background. Uncertain of what or even who it might be, she dismisses it … only to late one night awaken to see an elderly woman in the next bed being escorted from the room they share. In the morning, she’s a bit aghast to learn that the woman has passed despite seeing in good health and good spirits only hours before.
It’s this ‘stepping through the doorway into the world again’ that the Pang Brothers rather elegantly orchestrate throughout their film’s set-up. We – as voyeurs – get the chance to see through Kar-mun’s eyes at several spots; so we – like her – get enough information to make an informed judgement as to what’s taking place. Over the course of these reasonably minor incidents – i.e. a suited executive standing in traffic, a young child seeking his lost report card, a gentleman standing mutely transfixed in the back of an elevator, etc. – both she and we begin to realize that the veil between reality and the spirit world has somehow been removed. These specters turn out to be the recently deceased, and they’ve been held over in our plane of existence owed to what is suggested to be unfinished business.
Eventually, Kar-mun seeks an explanation for what she’s enduring. Joined by the psychotherapist who’s aiding in her adjustment to sight again – Dr. Wah (Lawrence Chou) – she travels to Thailand to learn more about her late donor, Ling (Chutcha Rujinanon). It’s there that the pair discover that Ling was gifted with the curse of precognition – the ability to see into the near future – and they learn that the girl was ostracized to the point of suicide by the townsfolk she only tried to use her ability to help. Helping to give Ling’s mother the emotional closure she’s been suffering from, Kar-mun and Wah believe they’ve achieved the balance that’ll finally grant our young protagonist some peace; but the truth is there’s one more tragedy the universe has in store, and it might just lead to the deaths of many.
Under their direction, the Pang Brothers deliver a sometime melancholy Horror film that works on every conceivable level. Though they rely on a great deal of risky visual trickery, they manage to keep the story moving so much so that the viewers never have any reason to question the veracity of these visions, nor are they given room enough to dismiss the premise and various subplots as nothing more than spectral shenanigans. These ghosts aren’t all that scary: it’s the circumstances of their creation which are necessarily dark but emphasize life isn’t always neat, clean, and pretty. Stuck momentarily in limbo between worlds, they still need to crossover; and the Pangs at all times cover these matters of life and death with almost reverential intrigue.
The Eye (2002) was produced by Film Workshop, Applause Pictures, and Mediacorp Raintree Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional: yes, there are some opening sequences definitely shot out of focus, but as viewers quickly learn that is part and parcel of how the directors are taking them on this journey. It gets better as it goes. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts some excellent behind-the-scenes stuff (most of which is archival), but there’s a great newly produced interview with producer Peter Ho-Sun Chan that’s fabulous. There’s also a video essay from critic Heather Wixson which is good, but methinks it wanders off into gender roles a bit too much to make as much impact as it could’ve.
Strongly Recommended.
I do recall watching The Eye (2002) probably two decades ago on home video, but I honestly don’t remember it looking this good. Arrow’s presentation is top notch; and the added details in this upgrade certainly give the Pang Brothers’ story a welcome boost of adrenaline when it needs it most. Actress Lee is a revelation here, handling the breadth of emotions with an almost childlike innocence at times until the point wherein catastrophe requires her to give it much more. A few of the early scenes get a bit too bittersweet for me, but she still delivers a journey from start-to-finish that’s deserving of all the acclaim she received here. It’s equally heartfelt and frenetic when required.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Eye (2002) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, for form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
One of the biggest lessons I can recall is that – aesthetically – techniques should be avoided when and if their use pushes the audience out of the viewing experience. While it sounded simple to my uneducated ears, the concept quickly grew a bit more complex; and the professor criticized such things as having characters speak directly to the camera as well as visual tricks (i.e. split screens, text overlays, some optical inserts, etc.) as being practices that by the very nature interrupt an established narrative flow. His point was that, in a theater, one is supposed to observe, not read. When thrown out of the story even for an instant, the viewer gets reminded that he or she are safe, not part of what’s happening, and merely witnessing the action. Sitting in the auditorium, he or she are instead watching a story unfold more as a consumer technologically invested in the events as opposed to, say, being a voyeur watching things occur organically. In some cases, visual trickery pulls back the curtain in such a way that it hijacks entirely what living experience looks like (or should look like), turning the film or television episode into nothing more than images rendered with nothing relatable expressed.
(College. Am I right?)
Experience has shown me that such a position – while critically laudable – isn’t always the way storytelling works most impactfully, especially in the modern era. Today, audiences have grown vastly more tech-savvy than they were back in the 80’s and 90’s; and a growing number of projects have specifically made exceptional use of visual inserts and even ‘breaking the fourth wall’ to the point wherein I can’t imagine returning to a day wherein these things didn’t transpire in some way. Granted, they probably should still be used sparingly – I don’t think I’ve ever seen split screen used wherein something less intrusive would’ve worked as well – but the point here is that when it comes to winning over the audience a director should minimally to welcome whatever bold new strategy he or she thinks works best.
All of this brings me to The Eye (2002), a rather entertaining flick that – with a few others – deservedly helped shine a bit of light on the emerging Asian Horror market. Written and directed by the team of Danny Pang and Oxide Chun Pang (with some screenwriting contributions also attributed to Yuet-Jan Hui), the picture starred Angelica Lee, Chutcha Rujinanon, Lawrence Chou, Candy Lo, Yut Lai So, and others. Its story bobs and weaves around the possible spectral connections passed from one person to another when a corneal transplant unexpectedly opens the door into the world of the supernatural for the recipient; and what emerges is a smart examination of the psychological impact such revelations render as a consequence of the exchange.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“A blind girl gets a cornea transplant so that she will be able to see again. She gets more than she bargained for upon realizing she can also see ghosts.”
The Eye opens with a bit of cinematic trickery that some might think was a waste of a modest gag. Essentially, audiences were made to believe that the first reel was playing only to have it very quickly seized up and frozen in place. When this happened historically, the film itself would overheat from the constant exposure of the projector lamp; and it wasn’t uncommon for the strip to fully melt in front of the eyes of the audience. What follows is a bit of a jump scare with noise, only for the story to then kinda/sorta reset with the actual yarn being spun taking place.
In the past, such a deliberate subterfuge was like thought to be trickery beneath the skills of good storytellers as well as a cheap feint pulled on the viewers; but – for what it’s worth – this maneuver might be seen today as demonstrating what the remaining 100 minutes proves but in a lean and mean few seconds. That is “don’t always believe what you see at your own peril.”
Wong Kar-mun (played brilliantly by Angelica Lee) has been blind from an early age. When the opportunity for her sight to be returned via transplant, she welcomes the chance to experience all of her senses once again. Slowly over the course of a few days, she begins to make the recovery to the point wherein muddled light and shadows begin to take shape; and yet there’s often a curiously obscured figure in the background. Uncertain of what or even who it might be, she dismisses it … only to late one night awaken to see an elderly woman in the next bed being escorted from the room they share. In the morning, she’s a bit aghast to learn that the woman has passed despite seeing in good health and good spirits only hours before.
It’s this ‘stepping through the doorway into the world again’ that the Pang Brothers rather elegantly orchestrate throughout their film’s set-up. We – as voyeurs – get the chance to see through Kar-mun’s eyes at several spots; so we – like her – get enough information to make an informed judgement as to what’s taking place. Over the course of these reasonably minor incidents – i.e. a suited executive standing in traffic, a young child seeking his lost report card, a gentleman standing mutely transfixed in the back of an elevator, etc. – both she and we begin to realize that the veil between reality and the spirit world has somehow been removed. These specters turn out to be the recently deceased, and they’ve been held over in our plane of existence owed to what is suggested to be unfinished business.
Eventually, Kar-mun seeks an explanation for what she’s enduring. Joined by the psychotherapist who’s aiding in her adjustment to sight again – Dr. Wah (Lawrence Chou) – she travels to Thailand to learn more about her late donor, Ling (Chutcha Rujinanon). It’s there that the pair discover that Ling was gifted with the curse of precognition – the ability to see into the near future – and they learn that the girl was ostracized to the point of suicide by the townsfolk she only tried to use her ability to help. Helping to give Ling’s mother the emotional closure she’s been suffering from, Kar-mun and Wah believe they’ve achieved the balance that’ll finally grant our young protagonist some peace; but the truth is there’s one more tragedy the universe has in store, and it might just lead to the deaths of many.
Under their direction, the Pang Brothers deliver a sometime melancholy Horror film that works on every conceivable level. Though they rely on a great deal of risky visual trickery, they manage to keep the story moving so much so that the viewers never have any reason to question the veracity of these visions, nor are they given room enough to dismiss the premise and various subplots as nothing more than spectral shenanigans. These ghosts aren’t all that scary: it’s the circumstances of their creation which are necessarily dark but emphasize life isn’t always neat, clean, and pretty. Stuck momentarily in limbo between worlds, they still need to crossover; and the Pangs at all times cover these matters of life and death with almost reverential intrigue.
The Eye (2002) was produced by Film Workshop, Applause Pictures, and Mediacorp Raintree Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Arrow Films. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds are exceptional: yes, there are some opening sequences definitely shot out of focus, but as viewers quickly learn that is part and parcel of how the directors are taking them on this journey. It gets better as it goes. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts some excellent behind-the-scenes stuff (most of which is archival), but there’s a great newly produced interview with producer Peter Ho-Sun Chan that’s fabulous. There’s also a video essay from critic Heather Wixson which is good, but methinks it wanders off into gender roles a bit too much to make as much impact as it could’ve.
Strongly Recommended.
I do recall watching The Eye (2002) probably two decades ago on home video, but I honestly don’t remember it looking this good. Arrow’s presentation is top notch; and the added details in this upgrade certainly give the Pang Brothers’ story a welcome boost of adrenaline when it needs it most. Actress Lee is a revelation here, handling the breadth of emotions with an almost childlike innocence at times until the point wherein catastrophe requires her to give it much more. A few of the early scenes get a bit too bittersweet for me, but she still delivers a journey from start-to-finish that’s deserving of all the acclaim she received here. It’s equally heartfelt and frenetic when required.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Arrow Films provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray copy of The Eye (2002) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, for form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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