Artimidor Federkiel Loosely translated "Yi Yi" means "one and one", and as we all know this makes two. By using the same pictograph that represents one to represent two (by simply repeating it) a link is established and we've learned something which isn't only of mathematical value: Individuals are never alone. They are born into a family, live with each other in communities and exert an influence. All have to deal with the same situations in life, only from different view points and at different ages, whether it is about growing up, first and later love, marriage, providing for the family, sickness, age or death. We make our choices and choices make us what we are, but it are the others which help us to see what we never would be able to. Eight year old photographer-"philosopher" Yang-Yang has a point in this regard when he shoots pictures showing only the back of persons' heads...Sure, Edward Yang's "Yi Yi" is also a portrait of the clash of modernization with traditional Chinese values in a Taiwanese family, but foremost it presents us multiple layers of three generations of one family and how everyone copes with it, and that is something universal to take away from it. In many ways one finds one's self reminded of the great Japanese filmmaker Ozu - life takes center stage, no need to make a movie that is literally more than life. Long and slow paced, "Yi Yi" takes its time to let the viewer get to know the characters and follow the diverse paths each one of them takes in the midst of their daily routines. After a while one becomes almost part of the family and enjoys how the mosaic of pieces fits together, even though everything is far from perfect. The film depicts family life in a subtle and understated way, it's an empathetic, humane piece of screen poetry, call it a contemporary Ozu if you like. Indeed, Yang's camera helps us see what we might never be be able to capture otherwise. Like little Yang-Yang. With that camera. Yang-Yang, which is Yang repeated, right?

G K Three light-on-its-feet hours long, the film starts with a wedding, ends with a funeral and in between captures what seems like a lifetime of experience. The story is about the emotional struggles of a businessman and the lives of his middle-class Taiwanese family in Taipei seen through three generations.Yi Yi: A One And A Two is a marvellous multi-generational drama from one of the leading lights of Taiwanese cinema Edward Yang, hovering at a delicate remove from its characters but conveying volumes about their hopes and disappointments. The film won for Yang the Best Director Award at the 2000 Cannes Film Festival, where it also debuted.

Sergeant_Tibbs In the early new century, late Taiwanese director Edward Yang broke out from under the radar with his epic modern masterpiece and last film Yi yi (2000), a tender refreshing subtle drama centred around a domestic family. Remaining one of the most critically acclaimed films of the century, it's a shame that Yang left us before making another film but did broaden eyes to his other obscure works such as A Brighter Summer Day (1991) and The Terrorizers (1986); as all the practiced methods in these films come to their highest point of intimacy in Yi yi. Shuffling between a range of moods and themes, the focus and basic premise of Yi yi is a middle-class family in Taipei over the course of one year, beginning at a wedding and ending at a funeral. The characters disband and we follow each subplot discovering and developing each of them; the father (N.J.) spends time with his long lost first love, imagining what his life could have been and studying his past behaviour; the mother (Min-Min) who feels trapped in her status of housewife; the daughter (Ting-Ting) who discovers first love; and the son (Yang-Yang) who evaluates his surroundings. Other prominent characters include the husband and bride of the afore mentioned wedding and the soon to be deceased.The pivotal theme of Yi yi is in general the love we give and receive all throughout life – although this is not demonstrated in any chronological order within the film. First, there's the love a baby receives (which the bride from the wedding carries throughout the film) from the whole family and the parents – of which this mutual and constant love remains for eternity. Then as a young child, Yang-Yang, he just begins to notice girls and the effect they have on him. His sister plays the teenager representation, who seeks the opposite gender for sexual attention; a supposed illusion of love. As an adult, or when maturity is apparently complete and they're getting married, there's the love from the family and the strong attraction between the couple themselves. Later in middle age, when possibly this appeal fades (as presented by the fact N.J. and Min-Min take some time apart) there's the assumed love from ones children, peers and the sensation of reminiscing past 'loves'. Once one reaches old age there's the love from and to the whole family. Another theme is the representation of modern family life, working on superstition, traditions and behaviour. This being shown by the fact the entire family lives near or together, especially when one is weak. Also, the wedding is intentionally set on a particular date just because it's a supposedly lucky day on the almanac calendar (also giving their child a 'lucky' name). It also shows how materials and possessions are useless without any form of love.N.J. is one of my favourite and most fascinating characters in cinema. He's passive, understanding and rarely aggressive; even stereotyped by his colleagues as the 'honest-looking type'. For example, when he witnesses an unfriendly brawl due to an unwelcome guest, he avoids joining in and waits for it to calm down before considering making his entrance. But by this disturbance, he feels the occasion is ruined and kindly refuses to join though he doesn't judge any of the people involved. When Yang-Yang prefers to eat McDonalds rather than food at the wedding he indulges and makes no fuss. After this particular scene, he encounters an ex-girlfriend by an elevator who confronts him for standing her up at a date several years ago. N.J. does not respond. Throughout a much later set meeting in the third act, we discover that N.J. was in fact the nervous type, which leads us to evaluate his current behaviour against his old one – there's the use of parallels by having his study of his past behaviour over his daughter and her boyfriend's first date, following these patterns. Though he has reached a new stage in his life and he's finally comfortable with the woman, he doesn't feel the attraction. When it comes to business, he is very calculating, understanding what to do but when he feels pressure he escapes to music. Plus he is co-operative but not dominating.Due to all these themes and the effect of personal impact it had on me, I refer to this film as the most enlightening and life-affirming film of all-time for me. This is mostly because the film has entirely convinced me that its theories are true and they are very comforting and therapeutic, despite the equal balance of happiness and sadness. According to the director, Yi yi literally translates to "A One and a Two…", like the phrase bands say before their performance. It's as if everyone is only getting ready and this is one big rehearsal. Or it is one big irony because, as Edward Yang has stated; 'few things in life are as simple as ones and twos", unlike the situations in the film. It is an incredibly rewarding and satisfying experience, if emotionally draining. There's also a very reassuring quote from the film I love; "My uncle says… we live three times as long since man invented movies. It means movies give us twice what we get from daily life. For example, murder. We never killed anyone, but we all know what it's like to kill. That's what we get from the movies." This is the natural beauty of film and my inspiration. I think the thought of this film could carry me throughout my whole life.One of my favourite films of all-time.10/10

evanston_dad "Yi yi" is a lovely film, pulsing with warmth and humanity. It tells the story of a Taiwanese family coping with the everyday fears and anxieties of which life is made. In the end, the movie suggests, there are no trivial moments in our lives, even if they seem so at the time -- any one person's life is an accumulation of both the trivial and the significant. What makes it worth getting out of bed every day is the fact that we will never live a day exactly like the one before it.The structure of "Yi yi" mirrors its theme -- the film is a gradual accumulation of quiet moments that build toward something deeply moving. We watch the father of the household reconnect with an old flame, only to see his disappointment when the realities of his past don't match his idealized memories of them. We watch the mother battle depression and the overwhelming sense that she lives day to day doing nothing with herself or her life. She seeks meaning by leaving her family to spend time at a religious commune, but she learns that the answers she's looking for aren't to be found there. We watch the adolescent daughter timidly flirt with sex and dating, a young girl only beginning to unearth the complexities of what it means to become an adult. But my favorite character is the 8-year-old son, who takes pictures with his camera because he wants to show other people what they're not able to see for themselves. He's a little boy who is old enough to understand that there are things he can tell people that they don't already know, but he's too young yet to know how to communicate those things. One has to wonder if this character is the young alter-ego of the film's writer and director, Edward Yang."Yi yi" isn't flashy. It doesn't intertwine all of these characters' story lines with clever narrative sleight of hand; it doesn't pile coincidences on top of coincidences like these multi-narrative ensemble films frequently do. It's not histrionic, and it doesn't build to some overheated climax. It's not interested in doing any of those things. It unfolds the way life unfolds, and it makes us deeply care about these people, and even makes us love them in a way, flaws and all. It reminded me very much of an Ozu film, with its static camera that chooses to sit back and observe rather than tell us how to feel."Yi yi" feels like a modest work of art while you're watching it, but it lingers in the head and its power builds the longer you have to muse over it. It's the kind of movie I have a feeling we'll look back on in twenty years and recognize as a masterpiece.Grade: A+