Heroic Grace is under way at the Walker, and I lined up to catch the first two in the series: The Five Venoms (Wu Du) and The New One-Armed Swordsman (Xin Dubi Daowang). By no means do I consider myself a kung fu film afficianado – and really I didn’t know anything about the genre before walking in to the cinema. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself…

The story of this girl and her kung fu actually starts in London, January 2001. I was in the UK on a study abroad program for art, architecture, and theater. One evening I ditched my classmates at some contemporary theater I don’t remember and caught the tube to a small theater that was hosting a screening of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. I had been following the hype on this film for a few months, and despite my dislike of martial arts films at the time (just thinking of every goofy Jackie Chan film to come out of Hollywood made me shudder), but I was determined to see Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon because Ang Lee had laid his magic hands on it, and that was the only reason I needed.

At first I was really put off by the martial arts sequences – they seemed fake to me. I thought, No one can run on rooftops like that, or fly around, who are they kidding? But I had missed the point. A valuable lesson I learned later when watching so much Japanese film was: suspend disbelief and enjoy the story. And as the film continued the fight scenes grew on me, I fell in love with the characters, I was stunned by the beautiful scenery, and by the time I walked out of the theater I was a little bit embarrassed for giving Jackie Chan such a hard time. Golly gee, this martial arts stuff isn’t so bad!

I was thinking a lot about Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon when I headed in to The Five Venoms. I read some of the program notes about the elaborate fight sequences, narrative methods, and other bits about the martial arts film heyday in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. I was particularly interested in director Cheh Chang and the themes of chivalry, brotherhood, and loyalty that were recurring in his many, many contributions to the genre. One thing about this director that caught my attention was that in Hong Kong it was a not-so-secret secret that Cheh Chang was gay. Put in context, it becomes really entertaining to see him cast every dashingly handsome martial arts star he could find in Hong Kong. (I was particularly smitten with the Snake character in Five Venoms. So cute!) Not to mention the long, meaningful glances that said cute martial arts stars would cast at each other as they declared their loyalty, or plotted an elaborate scheme for vengeance.

The New One-Armed Swordsman was another treat. In watching the elaborate fight choreography, I paid close attention because I wanted to know where something like Ang Lee’s critically acclaimed film could come from. Yeah, I know I’m oversimplifying, but when it comes to the fight scenes, Hong Kong martial arts films clearly set the stage for films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon to come along later…or Hero….or House of Flying Daggers, for that matter.

What I enjoy so much about film screenings at the Walker is that more often than not they draw the kinds of audiences that are not looking for passive entertainment, but rather are invested in the whole cinematic experience. In watching these films, hearing the gasps and giggles and applause of the audience is as much a part of the film for me as our gorgeous heroes on the screen kicking ass and taking names.

Never before have I been more certain that cutting class is a valuable right of passage for every student.

Had a chance to see a premiere screening of Three Times on Saturday. The still images I had seen looked beautiful, and I was intrigued by the idea of presenting three love stories with the same actors in different, critical points in Taiwanese history. This was my first Hou Hsiao-Hsien (HHH) film, and I wasn’t totally sure what to expect. A. O. Scott over the NY Times said it is “A Masterpiece. This is why cinema exists.” How could I not see it?

Three Times is heartbreaking. Three times over you get to meet these two enchanting people – get to experience that chance for a new beginning – and three times over you watch circumstance or personal failure muck things up. And as the viewer I’m helpless to offer aid; I can only witness the disintegration. That was the heartbreaking part for me. But I don’t think that is what HHH had intended entirely. In fact, I was surprised to read that HHH gave the film the Chinese title Best of Times, a nod to the nostalgia of his youth during these critical times in Taiwanese history when he was chasing pool-hall girls and enjoying American pop tunes from the 60’s. The best of times always seemed to end up being the worst of times for our two leads.

But I loved the long moments when the camera would fix on a characters face after a significant event, and like the character, I had to go through the whole emotional mess with them as I watched each nuance play out on their faces. There were no quick cuts to distract me; no special effects to detract from these bare, essential human experiences.

Leaving the film I had heard terms thrown around among the audience, like minimalist cinema, but I wasn’t totally in the know about that, so I went and looked it up. As it turns out, I’m something of an unknowing fan. This Wikipedia articles references two of my very favorite films, Last Life in the Universe and 3-Iron (Oh! Don’t get me started on 3-Iron. That film, for me, is one of those instances in which art rises above moral obligations, and I’d tell you to see this film, even if you have to steal it.)

But I definitely see the minimalist effect at work in Three Times. I was very fond of the long, uncomplicated shots; focused down a corridor with beautiful ambient light in which servants at the brothel weave in and out as they go about their daily chores, or a recurring shot in the pool hall looking out on to a courtyard with a gloomy sky as May prepares for the night’s business at the pool table.

Is this film the reason that cinema exists? Well, I probably wouldn’t jump on that bandwagon. (Besides, there are days when I feel pretty sure that Labyrinth and any John Cusack film are the reasons that cinema exists.) Three Times is definitely a compelling reason to follow cinema. It’s a mess of a romance. But then again, sometimes the messy romances are the only ones worth pursuing.