Durian Pop

The Search for General Tso starts with a far simpler goal: what is the origin of General Tso’s Chicken? The ubiquitous Chinese takeout dish can be ordered at practically every Chinese food restaurant, but its origins have been shrouded in mystery. Director Ian Cheney embarks on a journey to uncover the history of General Tso’s Chicken, leading him to a takeout menu collector, exploring the past of General Tso, and going to a whole lot of Chinese restaurants.

By tackling a narrow question, it allows Cheney to explore the topic from all angles, delivering a comprehensive package even at a brisk one hour runtime. This doesn’t mean the film is constrained from exploring a full spectrum of issues; thanks to a varied pool of interviewees that includes producer Jennifer 8. Lee, various academics, and the chefs and cooks that make the iconic dish. They offer interesting insight at what General Tso’s Chicken--and Chinese American cuisine--represents in our society. Between the underlying racism that forced Chinese Americans into certain sectors (such as cheap restaurant work), and the problematic manner at which Chinese takeout has been codified as a symbol of Chinese culture, The Search for General Tso manages to cover the various nuances that presented itself during the journey to uncover the origins of General Tso’s chicken.

While #3 has Stacey Lee continuing her fantastic pop-esque art, #4 introduces guest artist Annapaola Martello with the illustrations. Can’t say I’m a fan. Silk looks markedly older and weirdly European. I attribute it to a weird nose. But that’s not the only thing funky with #4. While #1 through #3 offer a Silk that’s adamant in staying distant from Peter Parker, she gets wooed over by a flamboyant Johnny Storm in no time. This can only lead to a love triangle that nobody wants.

There’s certainly aspects of Silk and her ties to youth culture that make her character very compelling. The constant references to pop culture intertwined with her internalized teen angst, staples of the Spider-Man canon, play well here. However, this love triangle just feels awkward and forced. I understand the desire to return to normalcy from both parties, but the Torch swooping in for a date right after Dr. Richards recommended Silk see a therapist is certainly an eye-roll.

Silk comes at a pivotal time in the comic book world. Diversity is the key buzzword these days and many POC superheroes are making their debut in the Marvel universe. The true test is how these characters will develop. Tackling race is a tightrope exercise, you don’t want to reduce a character to stereotypes, but it’s just as insulting to pretend POC are just palette switches from the white default. It’s still too early to see if her Asian background plays a part in Silk’s identity, but I remain hopeful. Robbie Thompson has so far done a decent job of creating a teen girl, we’ll see how well he depicts an AA teen girl. - Alex

Chow Mo-wan (Tony Leung) has led a life of heartbreak and disillusionment. His journey started in Days of Being Wild. While Tony Leung’s character was only featured in the final scene, detached from the narrative of the film, his character is thematically tied with Yuddy (Leslie Cheung). They are two vessels for the same idea, damaged playboys who can not trust nor commit. Chow is introduced into 2046 as a man who can not harbor healthy relationships with women. Arguably his most passionate relationship, one with Su Li-zhen in In the Mood for Love, has left him devastated. He fills the void with heavy drinking, one night stands and gambling.

The film documents Chow’s relationship with three women: Su Li-zhen (unrelated to the other one), Wang Jing Wen, and Bai Ling. Chow is a science fiction writer, injecting his personal escapades into a futuristic world of romance and erotisism. 2046 plays out in a similar vein, weaving between Chow’s experiences and his stories. The future Chow creates has people traveling towards a mystical 2046, a destination to recapture lost love. In 2046, nothing changes, so there is no sadness. This desirable stillness is an elusive element to Chow.

With every woman he meets, initial feelings of passion die out for one reason or another. Su Li-zhen only reminds him of his former lover, and Chow acknowledges that pursuing that relationship would be a hollow one. Bai Ling and Chow start out as neighbors in a physical relationship, but as Bai Ling looks to establish a more long-term and exclusive dynamic, Chow backs out. In contrast, Wang Jing Wen and Chow Mo-wan engage in an intellectual relationship. They both share interest in writing and allowing her to ghostwrite for Chow is a demonstration of Chow sharing his mind. Unsurprisingly, Chow comments that the time they spend together were his happiest. However, their time expired as well when Wang leaves to marry a longtime sweetheart in Japan.

In many ways, 2046 plays in parallel with Days of Being Wild. Chow--and Yuddy--are emotionally tied to one woman and physically engaged with another. Mimi (LuLu) from Days of Being Wild and Bai Ling are both very attractive women that become attached to Yuddy and Chow, respectively. They both seek approval and distinction through the relationship. They begin very independent and assertive, but end clinging to their male counterparts.

Similarly Li Zhen from Days of Being Wild and Wang Jim Wen (and to a lesser extent Su Li-zhen) offer intellectual stimulation to Yuddy and Chow. It’s clear that these women bring happiness to the male characters, but the men’s destructive habits do not discriminate. And it costs them any chance at intimacy.

Love peaks early, with the newness of sharing a life with someone. Time can only chip away at this ideal. It’s an uphill battle. The nostalgia-tinted history will always be more satisfactory and fulfilling than the present dilemma. It’s not surprising WKW takes up residence in the 1960s of Hong Kong and Singapore. By looking back in time, the stories are romanticized, with a dash of noir for good measure. There’s a strong temptation to reminisce on the past as a simpler time, one that made sense and romance was real.

The future in 2046 plays a good analog to the past. The science fiction future is one of dystopia and disconnect. Romance is dead. However, there are hopefuls. They travel endlessly on trains, seeking 2046. It’s not important if 2046 is a place or state of mind. It’s a stillness, where romantic feelings can be paused, framed and preserved.

Chow begins to write his character Tak based off Takuya, Wang Jing Wen’s lover and husband. The story slowly evolves to having Chow become Tak as Chow’s feelings for Wang intensifies. Tak is on this neverending train. A man seeking forever stillness is perpetually in motion. The train is occupied by androids, all of them molded after women Chow has met in real life. Tak falls for an android bearing Wang’s resemblance, but just as the real-life connection was never meant to be, Tak and the android were never meant to last. Other than offering a physical incompatibility, depicting all of Chow’s female friends as androids may offer insight into the inner workings of Chow’s mentality. His perpetual mistreatment of women points at how he perceives women. At best, they are alien to him. At worst, they are objects. Chow can never maintain a normal relationship with this history and knowledge.

The film’s brilliance is in balancing these common motifs with exhilarating fresh excitement. The dynamics are similar, but they carry a new poignancy, similar to how relationships function. The film is stuffed, packing multiple arcs and many characters. But a strong central message and WKW’s trademark use of repetition ensure the themes are not lost among the noise.