Stranger Eyes (Mò shì lù)

 

Writer/director Yeo Siew Hua

director on the set with Lee Kang-sheng

STRANGER EYES (Mò shì lù)                     B                                                              Singapore  Taiwan  France  USA  (126 mi)  2024  d: Yeo Siew Hua

You just have to watch someone close enough and keep your eyes on him.  At some point, even if he’s not a criminal, he will turn into one.                                                                                  —Officer Zheng (Pete Teo)

If you love peering through windows, then this is a film for you, using Hitchcock’s REAR WINDOW (1954) scenario, but embellishing it in the modern age, becoming a moody, atmospheric psychological thriller that starts out as a conventional missing-child narrative to become a cerebral meditation on voyeurism, privacy, and digital surveillance in modern Singapore, emphasizing a theme that there is always someone watching.  Featuring legendary Taiwanese actor Lee Kang-sheng, who broke onto the scene in Tsai Ming-liang’s Rebels of the Neon God (Qing shao nian nuo zha) (1992), but was last seen in Days (Rizi) (2020), where the strength of his near-silent career in acting is in body language and in the power of his gaze, bringing an enigmatic quality and depth through silence, making him uniquely qualified to play a silent voyeur, typically viewed as the most interesting character precisely because he says the least.  Yet he actually speaks here, but just barely, bringing a rare interest to the film, as he’s literally grown up before our eyes in his screen roles, connecting him to a certain style of minimalist arthouse films, kind of an Asian version of French actor Jean-Pierre Léaud who did exactly the same during the 60’s and 70’s, both happening to meet onscreen in Tsai’s WHAT TIME IS IT THERE? (2001).  Referencing other surveillance thrillers like Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation (1974) or Michael Haneke's Caché (Hidden) (2005), the abduction of an infant child is a gripping starting point for a mystery that explores societal isolation and loneliness as much as any police procedural investigation, where we might think Lee Kang-sheng is inhabiting the Peter Lorre role in Fritz Lang’s M (1931), but this unravels in multi-layered complexities that reveal themselves in surveillance footage.  After China, Singapore is the third most surveilled city in the world (Surveillance, 'Big Brother' government made Singapore ...), where the government also has access to the emails, telephone calls, and internet search histories of all its citizens, which might sound a bit spooky, but Singapore is also renowned for being one of the strictest and safest countries in the world, with zero tolerance for both violent and petty crimes, where its legal system relies on severe penalties, widespread surveillance, and swift enforcement to maintain one of the lowest crime rates globally.  This is the world that Singapore director Yeo Siew Hua, who curiously resides in Buenos Aires, chooses to explore, examining multiple secret lives among a group of interconnected characters, using a mostly Taiwanese cast, with extensive CCTV surveillance coverage becoming a central focus, shot by cinematographer Hideho Urata who beautifully captures the sterility of the screen.   

The first draft of this film dates back to 2012, but the filmmaker was unable to secure financing, shelving the project until he could return to it at a later date, recalling episode six of Krzysztof Kieślowski’s The Decalogue (Dekalog) (1988-89), which was later expanded to A SHORT FILM ABOUT LOVE (1988), where the discourse surrounding surveillance has changed drastically over time.  Living in a densely populated area, it is now commonplace for neighbors in high rise buildings to be peering into the windows of other neighbors, becoming familiar with their schedules and routines, all part of a normal day, while at the same time the numerous government surveillance cameras are watching them as well, so they’re all part of a vicious circle.  At the heart of the film is a young couple, Junyang (Wu Jian-Ho) and his wife Peiying (Anicca Panna), along with his mother (Vera Chen), who grow distraught when their infant daughter disappears from a public playground right in front of the father’s distracted eyes, which only grows more mysterious when strange DVD video recordings of the family’s daily activities, both before and after the kidnapping, start appearing at their doorstep, including months-old surveillance footage from a visit to the supermarket, Stranger Eyes new clip official - Venice Film Festival 2024 - ½ YouTube (1:51).  The film makes smart use of the song “Endless Love” by Tsai Chin from the Shaw Brothers movie LOVE WITHOUT END (1961), one of the foundational classics in Chinese cinema, Tsai Chin/Cai Qin-Endless Love/Love Without End/Bu Liao ... YouTube (3:19), initially heard in romanticized supermarket surveillance footage, repeating later in the picture with devastating results.  Reporting the crime to the police, Officer Zheng (Pete Teo) is a calm counterbalance, trusting established police procedures, exuding patience and calm, immediately installing a camera outside their door to capture whoever’s leaving these recordings, which leads them to a suspicious middle-aged neighbor living in an adjacent tower, Lao Wu (Lee Kang-sheng), who they begin following with an obsessive curiosity.  The protagonists and antagonists often exchange roles, like mirror images of one another, which begins a strange journey to uncover the truth, growing more and more layered and complex, as Wu’s identity is more complicated than it seems, where it’s often difficult to find one’s bearings in this unraveling web of differing intentions from each character.  This pattern only grows more ominous, trying the patience of viewers who are searching for relevant clues, as nothing jumps out at you, but becomes part of a long series of watching footage, sometimes at home, sometimes in the presence of the police, where the original score written by Thomas Foguenne only adds to the intrigue, offering a percussive Tindersticks-style (with a gamelan) undercurrent of restless contemplation. 

Ambiguous to the core, perhaps the biggest surprise is not a whodunit revelation, but the makings of a fractured marriage, where the strains of a kidnapped child and the endless hours of watched footage, revealing things they definitely would have preferred to remain hidden, where it’s not long before deeper secrets from their personal lives emerge and the foundation of their relationship completely disintegrates.  We follow Junyang’s strange, stalker-ish behavior, especially as he follows Wu, Stranger Eyes new clip official - Venice Film Festival 2024 - 2/2 YouTube (1:11), observed by his wife Peiying offering her own commentary, seemingly having her own connection to the stalker, yet we’re not initially sure who she’s speaking about, and how it is connected, which only adds to the mystery.  Each character seems to harbor their own secrets, with Wu developing a voyeuristic fixation on cameras and his own surveillance videos, while he spends just as much time simply watching and observing others, perhaps because he has no life of his own, so he lives vicariously through the lives of others.  Junyang mirrors his unorthodox behavior by following the parents of the children who were in the park on the day of the kidnapping, seeing how close he can come to abducting their children, desperately trying to enter the psychological mindset of the perpetrator, as in this way maybe he can better understand exactly what happened.  We also learn that Wu had started chatting shamelessly with Peiying long before the child disappeared, as she has a public persona she adopts as a live-streaming DJ.  By shifting the focus away from the police, however, and into the tangled lives of the affected family, we also get an understanding of what the kidnapper might have been thinking, like why they were targeted in the first place, as we hear the repeated phrase, “Some people aren’t meant to be parents.”  Rather than find answers, there are lengthy scenes that ruminate on each respective character’s existential loneliness, suggesting with newfound technology, we are all drifting apart into social isolation.   What’s unique about the film is the slow pace and how abstract concepts replace any standard narrative, with a meandering storyline with shifting perspectives and viewpoints, where viewers often wonder why a certain character is being watched or studied, but the filmmaker has his own agenda about shifting the tone of the movie from the mother’s manic desperation to a more contemplative examination of the interiority of the characters.  The father is shown to be frequently distracted, unfaithful, and even reckless in his parenting duties before the incident, but the later scenes show a transformed man, aware of his shortcomings and how it may have led to unintended consequences, where the act of watching others is fundamentally linked to self-discovery, ending on a surprisingly tender and more reflective note, which may be the biggest reveal in the entire film.  The missing child scenario is simply a framework to examine how modern society, technology, and constant surveillance alienate us from human connection, while highlighting themes of forgiveness and redemption.