Amphetamine
★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆ To cut or not to cut?
This film has stirred up a lot of questions with the censors before its release. The particular questionable scene (from the version I watched) is blacked out--Thank GOD!--and I think the controversial action (don't ask!) involved is better removed from the entire narrative. I am sure the other NINE people who watched this with me in the theatre would also agree with me.
Amphetamine lets you know what you’re in from early on, with a tedious opening-credits sequence set over a nude Kafka (Byron Pang) standing on the edge of a tower, and his penis visible, covered with silver paints and a pair of wings—a ploddingly literal figure of a bird. Wait a minute, maybe not. It is more apt to be a figure of an angel.
Kafka is a swimming instructor who is also a master in martial arts and cooking. Daniel (Thomas Price) is a successful banker. They run into each other again and again, and the classic “boy-meets-boy” story begins but is made difficult by Kafka’s heartbreaking past. Amidst the explicit nudity, drugs, and violent scenes, the way Director Scud portrays the relationship between the two men remains innocent, simple and cute. And the disconnected bridge continues to be an enigmatic metaphor that dictates their love.Scud manages to craft one of the best tragic heroes in the history of cinema—Kafka. The original Czechian meaning of the name is a bird, which is symbolically and thematically represented through Kafka who longs to fly away and keeps himself from drowning in his pains and sorrows.
Too ambitious to flaunt his style the way his characters flaunt their bodies, and too obsessed with presenting homoerotic images, Scud chops his scenes into abstract fricass ées, and even subjects us to acid-flashback fantasy sequences. Although the tragic ending is inevitable, it becomes a deliberate meaningless act. Never engaging or shocking as the film could be, Scud fails to realize the excellence in his screenplay—but that is okay, because there is one significant exception, which propels the narration and makes moments of the film worth savoring.
The significant exception (and surprise!) is Byron Pang, who, in spite of Scud’s best efforts to turn him into another piece of movable flesh, succeeds to convey a real human soul stirring beneath Kafka’s tough and strong façade—a vulnerable boy, uncomfortable and confused about his sexuality, who tries his best to overcome his demons to love. His monologues, his back-stories and his ever-changing hair colours make him the most compelling, interesting and believable character onscreen. His captivating performance is an island of honesty and simplicity, yet swallowed up by a sea of excess (yes, with penis and butt!), and he could be the angel who almost saves the film. Almost.
(Hong Kong, 2010)
