Having watched a great deal of Eastern cinema – far more than I remember clearly – I can say that the experiences have taught me some fabulous lessons about what makes those films different from U.S. domestic stuff.
Chiefly, Eastern projects have a different narrative flow. I’ve read that some of this alternate feel experts attribute to stories being somewhat unshackled by traditional studio tinkering; and yet I’ve listened to enough director and screenwriter interviews to know that their creatives do encounter some corporate pushback regarding some of their tales. What generates ticket sales overseas may not be so foreign than what does the same in the U.S.; and I imagine investors will always be wanting a respectable return on investment no matter what their heritage or nationality. Still, I’ve found it pretty easy to spot when Eastern films are reaching even slightly outside their comfort zone into new or unexplored territory: though they might imbue the effort with the same visceral trickery, some of the supporting elements just don’t work as designed. A scene or two – or, sometimes, a performance or two – don’t ring authentic, instead smacking of forced emotion or narrative contrivance; and it’s reasonable to assume that the director, the screenwriter, or the talent were exploring uncharted waters. What remains isn’t flawed: it’s just a bit quirky in small ways.
Now I could be wrong, but that’s my initial impression upon finishing Hong Kong’s The Island, a theatrical chiller – a very good one for those with patience – that shares some of the DNA to Western efforts like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), Southern Comfort (1981), or even Midsommar (2019) to a negligible degree. While The Island stops short of being Folk Horror – it is tied to a location and a curious belief system but those influences really only work in limited perspective – it effectively capitalizes on that kinda/sorta ‘locked box’ situation wherein our lead players enter, find themselves trapped by circumstances beyond their control, and risk-it-all to both stay safe and get out alive. On that level, the picture that emerges is quite entertaining … but because I think this was an entirely new sub-genre of Horror for the makers it really takes far too long to get to the good stuff, probably taxing the patience of most viewers in the process.
(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 teacher takes six students along for a trip to a remote, deserted island. After arrival, they discover three mentally disturbed brothers living on the island, and one of them, who's mentally disabled, is looking for a bride.”
Chiefly, Eastern projects have a different narrative flow. I’ve read that some of this alternate feel experts attribute to stories being somewhat unshackled by traditional studio tinkering; and yet I’ve listened to enough director and screenwriter interviews to know that their creatives do encounter some corporate pushback regarding some of their tales. What generates ticket sales overseas may not be so foreign than what does the same in the U.S.; and I imagine investors will always be wanting a respectable return on investment no matter what their heritage or nationality. Still, I’ve found it pretty easy to spot when Eastern films are reaching even slightly outside their comfort zone into new or unexplored territory: though they might imbue the effort with the same visceral trickery, some of the supporting elements just don’t work as designed. A scene or two – or, sometimes, a performance or two – don’t ring authentic, instead smacking of forced emotion or narrative contrivance; and it’s reasonable to assume that the director, the screenwriter, or the talent were exploring uncharted waters. What remains isn’t flawed: it’s just a bit quirky in small ways.
Now I could be wrong, but that’s my initial impression upon finishing Hong Kong’s The Island, a theatrical chiller – a very good one for those with patience – that shares some of the DNA to Western efforts like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), Southern Comfort (1981), or even Midsommar (2019) to a negligible degree. While The Island stops short of being Folk Horror – it is tied to a location and a curious belief system but those influences really only work in limited perspective – it effectively capitalizes on that kinda/sorta ‘locked box’ situation wherein our lead players enter, find themselves trapped by circumstances beyond their control, and risk-it-all to both stay safe and get out alive. On that level, the picture that emerges is quite entertaining … but because I think this was an entirely new sub-genre of Horror for the makers it really takes far too long to get to the good stuff, probably taxing the patience of most viewers in the process.
(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 teacher takes six students along for a trip to a remote, deserted island. After arrival, they discover three mentally disturbed brothers living on the island, and one of them, who's mentally disabled, is looking for a bride.”
In some ways, Po-Chih Leong’s The Island seems like two different films. Its first half is punctuated with small scenes or limited vignettes starkly filmed and backed with intrusive music (in spots) or awkward sound effects; then – somewhere around its midpoint – it turns into something vastly dark and vastly more consequential for those players caught up in the most dangerous game. When running for one’s life in an environment where hiding is damn near impossible – mostly because civilization and shelter doesn’t exist – the chance of survival grows dimmer with each passing moment. Death waits at every turn, and stopping to catch one’s breath is a luxury most can’t (or won’t) afford.
But the thing is this sort of gritty and real-time tension isn’t exactly something Eastern stories – to my knowledge – had spent much effort exploring. As such, Leong’s tale takes its sweet time getting to the dour procedural; and – when it does – it excels in small ways. Like other efforts, its characters – basically a rowdy gang of hormonal schoolmates on a field trip to a deserted island with their favorite professor as chaperone – make the same kind of mistakes Western knuckleheads do in Horror films. (You know what I mean? These idiots think they’re immortal, so they turn into the scares instead of turning away.) Thankfully, the script keeps most of the narrative focus on Mr. Cheung (John Sham), so this one avoids spiraling into too many youth shenanigans the way lesser projects do. He’s just an ordinary guy who finds himself – and those under his guidance – in the middle of extraordinary circumstances; and he’s perfectly cast, expertly played, and winningly embraced in this story.
Where The Island struggles a bit is truly getting to wherein its dark adventure begins.
The film opens with a curious scene – Cheung watches two fish fighting for their lives in what I believe is a pet store window – and it plays out with somewhat forced importance. Nothing about it is organic, and it definitely feels entirely staged for the purpose of making a point that could be (1) this is what life is, (2) this is what the film will explore, or (3) this is why you don’t buy two big fish and house them under the same roof. You – the audience – get to decide because there’s no context for the little vignette; and you otherwise have to wait about forty minutes before the relevance of this opening truly explains itself. There is a bit of a small hint inserted – while I won’t spoil it, I’ll point out that Cheung isn’t watching this fish-fight alone – but it, too, is vague and open to interpretation.
Additionally, Leong introduces the island family and sets up their rather grim circumstances rather loosely and also without a good amount of detail. While the particulars of their shared circumstance is clear – the brothers all are a bit cray-cray, their mother might be even a bit more cray-cray, they’ve abducted a young woman for what we’re led to believe is martial and/or sexual in nature, etc. – these elements are strung together with what I’d suggest is “just enough” framing to make it coherent. It’s missing a bit of substance … a bit of nuance … and while some might find it easy to fill in the blanks on their own (or in time) those of us who appreciate a stronger foundation might question what this is, why am I seeing it, and where is it going. Mind you: it does eventually make sense, but that’s much later in the film.
But the thing is this sort of gritty and real-time tension isn’t exactly something Eastern stories – to my knowledge – had spent much effort exploring. As such, Leong’s tale takes its sweet time getting to the dour procedural; and – when it does – it excels in small ways. Like other efforts, its characters – basically a rowdy gang of hormonal schoolmates on a field trip to a deserted island with their favorite professor as chaperone – make the same kind of mistakes Western knuckleheads do in Horror films. (You know what I mean? These idiots think they’re immortal, so they turn into the scares instead of turning away.) Thankfully, the script keeps most of the narrative focus on Mr. Cheung (John Sham), so this one avoids spiraling into too many youth shenanigans the way lesser projects do. He’s just an ordinary guy who finds himself – and those under his guidance – in the middle of extraordinary circumstances; and he’s perfectly cast, expertly played, and winningly embraced in this story.
Where The Island struggles a bit is truly getting to wherein its dark adventure begins.
The film opens with a curious scene – Cheung watches two fish fighting for their lives in what I believe is a pet store window – and it plays out with somewhat forced importance. Nothing about it is organic, and it definitely feels entirely staged for the purpose of making a point that could be (1) this is what life is, (2) this is what the film will explore, or (3) this is why you don’t buy two big fish and house them under the same roof. You – the audience – get to decide because there’s no context for the little vignette; and you otherwise have to wait about forty minutes before the relevance of this opening truly explains itself. There is a bit of a small hint inserted – while I won’t spoil it, I’ll point out that Cheung isn’t watching this fish-fight alone – but it, too, is vague and open to interpretation.
Additionally, Leong introduces the island family and sets up their rather grim circumstances rather loosely and also without a good amount of detail. While the particulars of their shared circumstance is clear – the brothers all are a bit cray-cray, their mother might be even a bit more cray-cray, they’ve abducted a young woman for what we’re led to believe is martial and/or sexual in nature, etc. – these elements are strung together with what I’d suggest is “just enough” framing to make it coherent. It’s missing a bit of substance … a bit of nuance … and while some might find it easy to fill in the blanks on their own (or in time) those of us who appreciate a stronger foundation might question what this is, why am I seeing it, and where is it going. Mind you: it does eventually make sense, but that’s much later in the film.
This is what I mean when I suggest that such a dark and foreboding sub-genre to Horror might been a bit new to the Hong Kong scene. For their industry, the 1980’s was much more about Fantasy-style thrillers and action-centric shoot ‘em ups; so something with the kind of simmering undercurrent of existential dread – the kind that pervades The Island’s second half – wasn’t exactly common practice. Also, I know from reading that their industry was undergoing a bit of a technical renaissance – new equipment always brings with it new challenges with attempts to actively do something different – and this project never quite feels like Leong had a sure hand at the wheel. The rawer components are almost exclusively in the second half; and I can’t help but wonder if the script could’ve benefitted from another draft or two. The end result smacks of a effort meant to bridge worlds, meaning that it hadn’t quite been done this way before; and I’m not entirely convinced this was the best way to achieve the results.
None of this is to suggest that The Island is inferior. At best, it’s a mixed bag – one that really fires on all cylinders once it finally decides what it’s wanting to be – but this is why criticism exists. Essentially, my job critically is to inform you not so much as if it’s worth viewing so much as it is why I think you should or shouldn’t watch it. Those showing up wanting the slow burn thriller should be satisfied … but I’m warning you that you’ll have to be patient to get there … and it’s worth it.
The Island (1985) was produced by D & B Films Co. Ltd. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds – to this reported 2K restoration – are pretty solid: clearly, any noticeable flaws are ported over from the source material, but overall this is still very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two new audio commentaries (both are hosted by genre experts and are quite interesting though I’ll admit I found Frank Djeng’s narration a bit hard to follow in spots) along with the usual extras. It’s definitely worth the price, so far as this viewer is concerned.
Recommended.
There’s an inherent risk in recommending underground gems like The Island (1985) to a wide readership. As I tried to be clear above, it very much feels like a project made in cultural and artistic transition, only slightly resembling something that its makers intended while balancing the box office requirement to also look like it belonged to stand alongside other outputs. The script takes more time than should’ve been necessary to set the stage; but – once it does – the flick becomes about as good as a ‘first attempt’ to craft what worldwide audiences expect from a more conventional and mainstream Horror, so much so that some might even watch the second half of this a second time. Sure, it’s a bit clunky in spots; and yet it works, nonetheless.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Island (1985) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
None of this is to suggest that The Island is inferior. At best, it’s a mixed bag – one that really fires on all cylinders once it finally decides what it’s wanting to be – but this is why criticism exists. Essentially, my job critically is to inform you not so much as if it’s worth viewing so much as it is why I think you should or shouldn’t watch it. Those showing up wanting the slow burn thriller should be satisfied … but I’m warning you that you’ll have to be patient to get there … and it’s worth it.
The Island (1985) was produced by D & B Films Co. Ltd. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I can assure readers that the provided sights and sounds – to this reported 2K restoration – are pretty solid: clearly, any noticeable flaws are ported over from the source material, but overall this is still very good. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts two new audio commentaries (both are hosted by genre experts and are quite interesting though I’ll admit I found Frank Djeng’s narration a bit hard to follow in spots) along with the usual extras. It’s definitely worth the price, so far as this viewer is concerned.
Recommended.
There’s an inherent risk in recommending underground gems like The Island (1985) to a wide readership. As I tried to be clear above, it very much feels like a project made in cultural and artistic transition, only slightly resembling something that its makers intended while balancing the box office requirement to also look like it belonged to stand alongside other outputs. The script takes more time than should’ve been necessary to set the stage; but – once it does – the flick becomes about as good as a ‘first attempt’ to craft what worldwide audiences expect from a more conventional and mainstream Horror, so much so that some might even watch the second half of this a second time. Sure, it’s a bit clunky in spots; and yet it works, nonetheless.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Eureka Entertainment provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of The Island (1985) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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