It’s increasingly difficult to not wax poetic about Taipei Story, which is almost universally the case when it comes to the work of Edward Yang, who remains one of the most influential filmmakers in the history of cinema, and someone who may have only directed a handful of films before his untimely demise, but where each one was a delicate, nuanced and captivating work that transcends every known boundary, occupying a space reserved for only the finest artists, of which Yang was undeniably one of the most significant. As one of the pioneers of the Taiwanese New Wave, his influence is well-documented, and he has inspired countless directors to do their own brilliant work, which has defined an entire nation’s artistic output. In short, he was vitally important – and while we would normally look at Yi Yi or Terrorizers if the conversation gravitates towards his importance as a filmmaker, none of them captures the raw spirit of what Yang represented more than Taipei Story (Chinese: 青梅竹馬), in which he goes in search of several elusive concepts in his continued quest to understand the human condition, as seen through the people with whom he interacted on a daily basis. These ambigious lives in this sprawling city lend themselves to his striking and captivating vision, which is embedded in every frame of this stunning film, each one a detailed and enthralling vignette into the lives of ordinary people in a metropolis that could be in any part of the world, as they navigate various challenges that ultimately lead them to a place of profound complexity, which is where the story starts to gain momentum and we understand why this is one of Yang’s undisputed masterpieces, and a film that has never been more relevant than it is today.

Taipei Story is one of the great city films, one where the location becomes a character all on its own – this should not come as a surprise, both based on the title of the film (which is simple but evocative) and how Yang’s entire career was dedicated to exploring different urban landscapes within his native Taiwan, each one a poignant document of a specific time and place, captured indelibly in time for posterity. Few cities have looked as beautiful as Taipei when filtered through the director’s camera, and his fondness for his home, coupled with his immense artistic ambitions, leads to a compelling experience that is as enriching in terms of the narrative as it is providing a snapshot of the city in the mid-1980s when Taiwan (like much of China at the time) was undergoing considerable change. One of Yang’s most intriguing directorial qualities is his examination of the contrast between traditional Chinese customs and the encroaching influence of the outside world – there is barely a scene in Taipei Story that is not infused with some stark juxtaposition between cultures, whether it is the main character’s obsession with American baseball, which is a constant motif throughout the film, or the rock music-inspired soundtrack, where a few notable international performers are used in Yang’s quest to create a memorable cultural landscape, one built primarily on contrasting wildly different styles in his effort to show how Taipei was undergoing a moment of fundamental change, the likes its population had never seen before. By constructing this narrative, Yang is gradually exploring some deeper issues in contrast with a very strong depiction of the city in which he was raised, which creates a very strong and intriguing depiction of Taipei and its surrounding areas, especially since he is constantly provoking this story for deeper meaning than just an objective depiction of his hometown.

Cultural collision is a fascinating concept, and not enough contemporary art explores it with nearly as much depth and nuance, but it fuels Yang’s approach, which is very much an example of drawing from numerous sources and piecing them together to create a vivid tapestry of a city and its people, whose lives are so profoundly fascinating to the director, his entire story is based around them. Few films have been more stark reminders of the viral nature of globalization (especially at that particular point in history) than this film, which is both a celebration of cross-cultural contact, and a cautionary warning against surrendering entirely to new cultures and their supposed exoticism, since it can cause one to lose sight of their own inborn traditions, the loss of which is one of the central tenets of this film. Yang views Taipei as a profoundly modern city, a melting pot of different cultures – perhaps not in the presence of a wide range of individuals from different backgrounds, but at least in how different cultures become interwoven in the lives of these characters, who become increasingly dependent on the outside influence, whether it’s in the artistic space (with music, film and fashion all being prominent sources of inspiration for these characters in their daily lives), or in the more abstract elements, with these characters beginning to develop traits that show that they are gradually acclimating to different traditions, which is perfectly appropriate until these outside influences start to take over their own cultures, which causes the conflict that gradually reaches a fever-pitch in the film’s haunting final act, in which all these ideas become relentlessly intertwined.

However, if we get to the heart of the film, Taipei Story is as much about the city as it is about the people that inhabit it, and while Yang is not someone who seems to be preoccupied with too many details (usually preferring to set a particular tone, in which he is able to explore the world of his stories), there is an abundance of character-based work that makes this as much a tribute to the city as it is a careful exploration of its population. Two exceptional performances sit at the centre of this film, played by Tsai Chin and Hou Hsiao-Hsien (who would go on to be a formative and distinct voice in Taiwanese cinema himself, even serving as a co-writer of this film), who play these characters who are not particularly well-defined – we know very little about them at the start, and the story doesn’t reveal too much over the course of the film. Instead, their near-anonymity ensures that we are getting a thorough and meaningful experience, one that is driven less by the requirement to establish full histories of these characters, and more an opportunity to simply luxuriate in the bleak but beautiful surroundings in which they occur. Tsai Chin in particular is a marvel – her gifts as a performer extend far beyond the verbal channel, where her most subtle movements and seemingly inconsequential gestures reveal one of the most emotive actors of this era, someone whose steadfast dedication to constructing the character of Chin is extraordinary, defining the entire film (rather than the other way around, which is far more logical in traditional films). There are countless moments in this film where we are just stunned by both her elegant beauty – which is aided considerably by the fashion choices the film makes, as her character represents the perfect intersection between Western and Eastern styles, making several of her outfits extraordinarily iconic – and deep humanity, which is explored with grace and detail by an actor whose fierce commitment to this role (which is much more challenging than a cursory glance may suggest) is the bedrock on which the entire film is based.

Taipei Story is also one of those very rare examples of a film that is driven almost entirely by mood more than anything else. There is a plot, but it’s quite sparse and was deliberately designed to be more paced, in order to allow for the film to explore its deeper themes without needing to feel obligated to resolve every scenario or offer solutions to each element of the narrative. Yang’s style is rooted in realism, but one that veers more towards the ethereal – they’re gritty and simple, but they have an almost enchanting quality, where he is looking at the more internal lives of these characters and the navigation of their surroundings, which can be perilous if they are not psychologically prepared to embrace the change that surrounds them. Atmosphere, more than anything else, is what propels this film and makes it such an interesting document – the narrative takes the form of many moments in the lives of these characters, both together and individually, as they work their way through a rapidly-changing Taipei, holding onto whatever remnants of the past they can while still doing whatever possible to embrace the future – not because they are intrigued by it, but rather since they realize that anyone who struggles to adapt will simply be left behind. Its a moody and tense film in which the story becomes less important as we start to understand the viewpoint of these characters – scenes don’t necessarily blend together, and there are entire conversations that occur that hold very little weight in the grander scheme of the film – and it becomes a poignant examination of the human condition, cobbled together from disparate moments that don’t work in isolation, but come to have an abundance of meaning when placed across from each other, which is where the film is at its most effective, surrendering to the ambigious but achingly beautiful atmosphere in which every conceivable human emotion – desire, anxiety and unbridled joy – reside, ready for Yang to reconfigure into this exceptional film.

When it comes to discussing Yang and his directorial output, its undeniable to state that he may not have had a particularly prolific career, and his films are often seen as being inaccessible based on the length and how emotionally aloof they tend to be, or rather as a result of being perceived as such, which are not allegations that are entirely unfounded. However, he’s the embodiment of what makes cinema such a powerful medium, since he rarely (if ever) played by the rules. Few directors were able to experiment so profoundly with social realism to the point where it launched an entire movement of cinema, inspiring countless filmmakers to tell their stories, often offering many ideas that are seamlessly assimilated into the work of his spiritual proteges, of which there are simply far too many to count. He was an intrepid filmmaker with a firm grasp on the cultural pulse of Taiwan at a specific moment in history, which was drawn from his own background as someone who grew up in a rapidly-growing country, and as an artist that took note of the changes occurring around him. His work is polished and compelling, and he manages to produce some truly exquisite, complex works that carry themselves with confidence and curiosity, which is a combination that always leads to incredible art, at least in terms of the specific details that propel this story. It’s a work of pure artistry, a detailed and gorgeous depiction of Taipei and its people, offering us a voyeuristic glance into their lives as they make their way through the city, which is shifting and becoming more influenced by the outside world at an alarming rate, changing so fast that these characters can barely keep up. Its an extraordinarily compassionate, earnest work with a good sense of direction and pure artistic integrity – and its slower pace allows Yang to meditate on a wide range of issues, each one fitting so perfectly into the world he has so meticulously created for the viewer, who will undoubtedly find themselves fully enraptured in this stunning and compelling version of the world, all of which is drawn from the director’s own endless imagination and ability to realize some of the most abstract concepts.