story about a mysterious object
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Answer:
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Explanation:
In ''Mysterious Object at Noon,'' the director Apichatpong Weerasethakul has devised a distinct kind of entertainment. Early on in this hybrid documentary, made in Thailand, a young woman who is not an actress relates a horrible incident. Her father, short of money to get home from a trip, sold her to her uncle. As she gets through the story, questioning her own worth, the off-camera director asks her a peculiar question: ''Now, do you have any other stories to tell us? It can be real or fiction.''
She wipes tears from her cheeks and mutters, ''What else can I tell you, real or fake?'' Is the filmmaker trying to distract her from her horrible tale, or does he have something wholly different in mind?
Whatever his agenda, Mr. Weerasethakul's odd request leads him across Thailand, where a cross section of people pick up the new story the girl invents and add their own details. The movie is like a combination of the gossip game and the old fable ''Stone Soup,'' in which suspicious villagers toss contributions into the pot of a wanderer to make a stew unlike any other; the wanderer's intent is to bring them all together. And that's the best way to describe what ''Mysterious Object'' will do for audiences. It's a film unlike any other, complete with a title that sounds like a remark that would result from a U.F.O. sighting.
The picture, which begins a run today at Anthology Film Archives, is shot in grainy black-and-white that sometimes seems to have pixels the size of pocket change. ''Mysterious Object,'' which is in Thai with English subtitles, is similar to the exercise in which assorted writers each contribute a sentence, or sometimes a chapter, to build a single story. By traveling through Thailand's countryside to encourage townspeople to spin the narrative, the film offers a beguiling look into the country. And so on the story goes....
Explanation:
Right off the bat, Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s Mysterious Object at Noon induces in the unsuspecting viewer a sensation that has become a hallmark of this singular artist’s work: the mild delirium of being agreeably lost and unmoored. Rarely has a first feature been more aptly titled; critics greeted its arrival on the festival circuit in 2000 as they might have a UFO sighting. Mysterious Object was disorienting equally for its out-of-nowhere inventiveness and for being rooted in a very specific—and for many, fairly alien—place and culture. Thailand had been largely off the radar of even the most seasoned festivalgoers. But coming from anywhere, this thoroughly unpredictable shape-shifter would have qualified as sui generis: part road movie, part folk storytelling exercise, part surrealist parlor game.
In the years since, Apichatpong—or Joe, to use a nickname that dates from his student days at the Art Institute of Chicago—has come to occupy a central place in cinephile culture, as influential as Hou Hsiao-hsien and Abbas Kiarostami were for a previous generation. His subsequent features Blissfully Yours (2002), Tropical Malady (2004), and Syndromes and a Century (2006) featured prominently on best-of-decade lists; in 2010, he received world cinema’s highest honor, the Cannes Palme d’Or, for Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives.
Throughout, Apichatpong’s films have continued to confound even his longtime admirers, which attests to their open-endedness and to the multiple contexts in which they exist. While the Thai genre movies of his youth made a mark, so did the avant-garde virtuosos (Bruce Baillie, Andy Warhol) he discovered in Chicago. Apichatpong, who studied architecture before pursuing an MFA in filmmaking, is acutely aware of film as a spatial practice. (Of late, he has moved with increasing fluidity between the cinema and the gallery.) His movies are sensory immersions, primal plays of darkness and light. But they are also pointed and specific engagements with local beliefs, customs, and history, and his most recent feature, Cemetery of Splendor (2015), foregrounds the political instincts that have long simmered beneath the serene surfaces of his work.
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