What do you think?
Rate this book
Contemporary Film Directors
Edward Yang
Having largely given up on a career in film, Edward Yang had been working as a computer engineer for several years when he saw Herzog's Aguirre, Wrath of God. Inspired to return to film, Yang, along with a handful of other filmmakers, including the great Hou Hsiao-hsien, went on to found the Taiwanese New Wave of the early 1980s. Film critic John Anderson's Edward Yang offers a comprehensive overview of the work of the writer-director—already considered one of the most important filmmakers of the past twenty years—from his breakthrough feature That Day, on the Beach to the epic Yi-Yi. Rooted in questions about what it means to be Taiwanese, Yang's films reveal the complexity of life within the island's patchwork culture. Anderson identifies the key narrative strategies, formal devices, moral vision, and sociopolitical concerns shot through Yang's films. He explains what makes these films so distinctive by pinpointing the specific qualities of Yang's style and outlook.
- GenresFilmCollectionsAsia
144 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2005
4 people are currently reading
120 people want to read
About the author
John Anderson
6 booksThere is more than one author with this name in the Goodreads' database
Chief film critic at Newsday, is a past member of the selection committee of the New York Film Festival as well as a member and two-time past chair of the New York Film Critics Circle, a member of the National Society of Film Critics, and a member of the National Book Critics Circle. He lives in Los Angeles.
Chief film critic at Newsday, is a past member of the selection committee of the New York Film Festival as well as a member and two-time past chair of the New York Film Critics Circle, a member of the National Society of Film Critics, and a member of the National Book Critics Circle. He lives in Los Angeles.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
June 13, 2018
Edward Yang is a monograph comprised of an extended critical analysis of Yang’s directorial career capped by an interview between Yang and the author. The former section is titled “Poetry and Motion,” which is as good a way as any to concisely summarize the delicacy and gracefulness of Yang’s filmography, and the style with which he conveys his worldview therein. Anderson leads off by very effectively invoking W.H. Auden’s criteria for a major poet; despite taking this tack right from the jump, Anderson doesn’t belabor the point, but it is an apt one, and he gets exactly as much mileage out of it as it stands to give, just as he does other occasional cross-medium references to literature throughout the book.
Anderson’s approach is a rather workmanlike one; I don’t intend that (in this case at least) as an insult, only a way of saying that while Anderson doesn’t go terribly deep or break new ground as far as theory, he has produced a concise and satisfying set of mini-essays. He rarely stretches to reach the conclusions he draws, and while stretches can be somewhat appealing, if only as sign of ambitious thought, the lack thereof also means Anderson never gets lost in the weeds. The analysis of Yang’s films is mostly segmented and compartmentalized, though Anderson occasionally looks forward and backward in Yang’s career (sometimes repeating himself slightly as a result). He occasionally turns a nice phrase, but generally doesn’t feel the need to couch his positions in wittiness or style, content in his astuteness and his grasp of the material and a steady and curious approach to understanding Yang better. He captures the essence of Yang’s movies without making them seem tedious or schematic, and pinpoints key moments without making them feel isolated or decontextualized.
He does get a number of details of Yang’s films wrong, and his writing can be odd—sometimes nonsensical, or featuring wrongly-used words, or lacking needed connective sentences, or poorly-phrased to the point of near-contradiction—all of which would typically bother me much more than it does here, but perhaps due to the relative simplicity of his ideas, there is a consistent clarity to Anderson’s line of thinking, despite the confusion of his language. There’s not evidence of much, if any, research done by Anderson, so the book’s audience isn’t limited too much by a tone skewing too oblique or esoteric, only by the limited awareness of Yang himself (which is to say, rather significantly, despite his general acclaim, which comes from quite a narrow segment of society).
Anderson instead relies on his own background with Yang and his films, and this acceptance of his limitations is in keeping with his early acknowledgement of the specifically American approach he’s forced to take to Yang’s oeuvre; Anderson follows best critical practices by acknowledging his bias but not leaning into it or absolving it. (This approach also allows Anderson to note the universal resonance of Yang’s movies even as he able to highlight how the movies nonetheless seem to especially resonate with American audiences (or potential audiences) as a result of specific cultural and societal echoes between America and Taiwan.)
I love Yang’s movies but had little knowledge of his background or philosophies beyond the rather considerable amount expressed in said movies, so it was quite interesting to get a concise summary of Yang’s childhood and how his life and career were affected by modern Taiwanese history and the Chinese film industry, as well as more specific tidbits, such as Yang’s dislike of the frequent comparisons between his early films and the work of Michelangelo Antonioni. Anderson cohesively proposes, on the basis of Yang’s output, a worldview with surprising nuance, much more than is delimited by many popular, but simplistic, conceptions (or misperceptions) of Yang’s career.
The closing interview with Yang allows him to flesh out his own worldview, pointed though not contentious, and while Anderson’s line of questioning isn’t always great or original, Yang overcomes this weakness for the most part, ensuring that his personality as well as his philosophy is well represented in his responses, even at times delivering quite pointed, though never contentious, answers in the second-person that seem at least partly directed straight at Anderson and the weakness of certain questions, especially as influenced by his particular biases. Yang begins his response to Anderson’s final question by saying, “This is actually a huge question to ask, and a very simple one to answer.” He then proceeds to deliver an eloquently building answer spanning seven pages (of an interview 22 pages long in total), astute—“simple” is underselling himself—but non-demonstrative, in keeping with Yang’s artistic preference for ideas to take on their own size naturally, without external inflation. It’s a tour de force, emblematic of Yang’s approach to his work, deeply personal and political without being impenetrable or intimidating.
His quote is an impassioned presentation of his perspective, which is to say his curiosity, his desire to improve his country’s culture, his interest in genuine cultural exchange, and his pursuit of expanding his and his audience’s knowledge and capacity for understanding, caring, and interaction. "To enjoy knowing more is simply the process of enjoying life and what life offers,” he says near the end, a gloss on his philosophical intentions as apt as “Poetry and Motion” is as a descriptor of his stylistic intentions. Yang’s response ends shortly thereafter, and the interview with it. There’s nothing else to say. There are several devastating reminders throughout this book of a career cut far too short (“Yi Yi is unquestionably Yang’s crowning achievement thus far in a career with miles to go,” Anderson writes of what ended up being Yang’s final film before his death of cancer; of projects that never came to fruition; Yang, who had notorious—and baffling—difficulties finding funding for his work, is quoted as saying, post-Yi Yi, “I have quite a number of projects that have been in my head for quite a long time. And now I have the resources to do them. [...] Right now, I’m in a better position to do anything I like.”); Yang’s beautiful closing answer is one final one.
Anderson’s approach is a rather workmanlike one; I don’t intend that (in this case at least) as an insult, only a way of saying that while Anderson doesn’t go terribly deep or break new ground as far as theory, he has produced a concise and satisfying set of mini-essays. He rarely stretches to reach the conclusions he draws, and while stretches can be somewhat appealing, if only as sign of ambitious thought, the lack thereof also means Anderson never gets lost in the weeds. The analysis of Yang’s films is mostly segmented and compartmentalized, though Anderson occasionally looks forward and backward in Yang’s career (sometimes repeating himself slightly as a result). He occasionally turns a nice phrase, but generally doesn’t feel the need to couch his positions in wittiness or style, content in his astuteness and his grasp of the material and a steady and curious approach to understanding Yang better. He captures the essence of Yang’s movies without making them seem tedious or schematic, and pinpoints key moments without making them feel isolated or decontextualized.
He does get a number of details of Yang’s films wrong, and his writing can be odd—sometimes nonsensical, or featuring wrongly-used words, or lacking needed connective sentences, or poorly-phrased to the point of near-contradiction—all of which would typically bother me much more than it does here, but perhaps due to the relative simplicity of his ideas, there is a consistent clarity to Anderson’s line of thinking, despite the confusion of his language. There’s not evidence of much, if any, research done by Anderson, so the book’s audience isn’t limited too much by a tone skewing too oblique or esoteric, only by the limited awareness of Yang himself (which is to say, rather significantly, despite his general acclaim, which comes from quite a narrow segment of society).
Anderson instead relies on his own background with Yang and his films, and this acceptance of his limitations is in keeping with his early acknowledgement of the specifically American approach he’s forced to take to Yang’s oeuvre; Anderson follows best critical practices by acknowledging his bias but not leaning into it or absolving it. (This approach also allows Anderson to note the universal resonance of Yang’s movies even as he able to highlight how the movies nonetheless seem to especially resonate with American audiences (or potential audiences) as a result of specific cultural and societal echoes between America and Taiwan.)
I love Yang’s movies but had little knowledge of his background or philosophies beyond the rather considerable amount expressed in said movies, so it was quite interesting to get a concise summary of Yang’s childhood and how his life and career were affected by modern Taiwanese history and the Chinese film industry, as well as more specific tidbits, such as Yang’s dislike of the frequent comparisons between his early films and the work of Michelangelo Antonioni. Anderson cohesively proposes, on the basis of Yang’s output, a worldview with surprising nuance, much more than is delimited by many popular, but simplistic, conceptions (or misperceptions) of Yang’s career.
The closing interview with Yang allows him to flesh out his own worldview, pointed though not contentious, and while Anderson’s line of questioning isn’t always great or original, Yang overcomes this weakness for the most part, ensuring that his personality as well as his philosophy is well represented in his responses, even at times delivering quite pointed, though never contentious, answers in the second-person that seem at least partly directed straight at Anderson and the weakness of certain questions, especially as influenced by his particular biases. Yang begins his response to Anderson’s final question by saying, “This is actually a huge question to ask, and a very simple one to answer.” He then proceeds to deliver an eloquently building answer spanning seven pages (of an interview 22 pages long in total), astute—“simple” is underselling himself—but non-demonstrative, in keeping with Yang’s artistic preference for ideas to take on their own size naturally, without external inflation. It’s a tour de force, emblematic of Yang’s approach to his work, deeply personal and political without being impenetrable or intimidating.
His quote is an impassioned presentation of his perspective, which is to say his curiosity, his desire to improve his country’s culture, his interest in genuine cultural exchange, and his pursuit of expanding his and his audience’s knowledge and capacity for understanding, caring, and interaction. "To enjoy knowing more is simply the process of enjoying life and what life offers,” he says near the end, a gloss on his philosophical intentions as apt as “Poetry and Motion” is as a descriptor of his stylistic intentions. Yang’s response ends shortly thereafter, and the interview with it. There’s nothing else to say. There are several devastating reminders throughout this book of a career cut far too short (“Yi Yi is unquestionably Yang’s crowning achievement thus far in a career with miles to go,” Anderson writes of what ended up being Yang’s final film before his death of cancer; of projects that never came to fruition; Yang, who had notorious—and baffling—difficulties finding funding for his work, is quoted as saying, post-Yi Yi, “I have quite a number of projects that have been in my head for quite a long time. And now I have the resources to do them. [...] Right now, I’m in a better position to do anything I like.”); Yang’s beautiful closing answer is one final one.
January 12, 2024
It's OK but Yang deserves better. There are a number of small inaccuracies regarding the details of the films. One would imagine when writing a monograph on a subject, that would be the bare minimum. Ironically, though plot details are occasionally inaccurate, Anderson spends far too much time essentially writing glorified summaries of each film. Not nearly enough ink is spilled on aesthetic strategies, narrative patterns, or historical context. Still, that being said, Anderson occasionally makes a cogent point or observation, and his line of thinking and writing is mostly clear and simple throughout--and blessedly free of the overly academic jargon that mars some of the other titles in this series. In addition, this was a quick, easy and entertaining read, which of course was unsurprising given that I am such a big admirer of Yang's work. Also, the interview at the end of the book was utterly fascinating (and the only part of the book that I will resist), though more because of Yang's answers than Anderson's questions. Indeed, Yang's final answer--a thing of beauty, as sprawling and nuanced as any of his films, and voicing an opinion that I have never been able to put into words but completely agree with--actually rebuts Anderson's rather short sighted question. Reading the interview I became convinced that Yang was a genius. Finally, I was saddened to read him be so enthusiastic about finally getting to film all these upcoming projects that he had long wanted to produce. His untimely death was a huge loss not only to film culture, but intellectual culture at large.
September 10, 2020
Film analysis isn't revolutionary, but it's not bad! Thought the Yang interview would make the book worth it, but it's sort of scattered and all over the place, which might be due to the format (I think it's compiled from different sources). Sort of a bummer to read too because it reminds me of what an amazing auteur Yang was and how devastating it is that he passed so young.
Read
March 20, 2024If you follow and read my movie reviews on letterboxd you know a certain line of thought has been nagging me quite some time: I claim mainland Chinese communist cinema is unjustly marginalized in critical discussions of East Asian cinema broadly and Chinese cinema more narrowly. I claim Taiwanese and HK cinema get an excessive amount of acclaim and recognition compared to the mainland， ，and that this imbalance in all likelihood stems from knee jerk cold war politics. BUT, it's haunted me that I can't say that for sure unless I've actually experienced the Taiwan and HK canon for myself. So finally I've been diving in with gusto, starting with the director known as probably Taiwan's best: Edward Yang. But I wanted to be thorough, so I also found this book about his work. The films themselves confirmed my bias; they don't hold a candle to the best commie cinema. This book also confirmed for me how lost these critics are when it comes to mainland cinema. This author for example claimed that only 13 movies were made in Mao's China during the Cultural Revolution. If you don't know much about China that might sound plausible, but it is in fact an absurd under count that misses the mark by several dozen. But I do understand why these critics love Edward Yang. He's the Chinese auteur they were waiting for and were hoping they were going to get with Zhang Yimou before he confounded their expectations and accused them in fact of being more politically compromised than the communists who "censored " his movies (fact check: true). But Yang was a fluent-in-English global-minded liberal who made these critics feel at ease (his films likewise quite digestible for Western eyes). In an interview in this book he shares his thoughts on the recent Bush-Gore election. I can't imagine Wu Jing for example giving a damn about such things (see for example his video interview with Evan Osnos, notable in part for how bad the latter's Chinese is). All in summary my bias has become more heavily confirmed than before: Mainland cinema beats Taiwan cinema hands down. Edward Yang is not my cup of tea. Give me Wolf Warrior over this any day of the week.
November 28, 2019
Giving only three stars but I think this book is excellent for Yang aficionados.
July 20, 2022
This felt very surface level, as is to be expected I guess, but I was hoping for deeper insights into Yang and his filmography.
March 28, 2024
This is Goodreads! We clown in this mfer! Take your essays on the filmography of Edward Yang back to Letterboxd
November 17, 2024
The interview answers Yang gives has some really great stuff that’s even more relevant today, which makes sense given Yang was a Leftist
December 30, 2025
对《恐怖分子》的分析出乎我的意料，作者是从虚构与现实角度出发，让我很有收获的角度
August 12, 2024
Low key lost the book…. But I was three pages from the finish.
I wanted more from this book. More background rather than summary.
I wanted more from this book. More background rather than summary.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews