A repulsive little film. Presented in the form of high melodrama, the story line is a repugnant mixture of self-loathing, obsession, and delusion, but that makes it sound much better than it is. In the hands of this amateurish first-time director, even a far better script would have gone down the toilet. As it was, faced with this depressing and unwatchable mess, I ended up fast-forwarding through the last couple of scenes just to see if anything would change my impression.
Some of the actors, most notably the female lead and the head gangster, do their best to pull off a believable performance, but you sense they were sabotaged at every junction by bad directing. The male lead, never quite sure which leg he was supposed to limp on, or what exactly was wrong with his back, probably heard directions like "Now, look at the camera. No, wait, don't look!" A few of the actors were truly inept, raising the question as to why they were ever cast, although that brings us back to the director.
Just in case you're still thinking about seeing this film, I'm going to now include a SPOILER. Stop reading now, if you're absolutely intent on ruining your own evening.
Spoiler/spoilage (pun intended): Our hero, the noodle man, is supposedly some kind of mentally deficient loner. Other than depression, and low self-esteem, we're never quite sure what his deficiencies are, any more than we are what is wrong with his leg or back, or maybe the other leg. He takes a fancy to one of the women who frequents his noodle stall, one of a group of prostitutes who hang out in the communal market between "bookings". His morose life drones on, almost as boringly as the movie, until one evening when his secret love interest, drunk after trying to drown her sorrows, is hit by a car outside the market. Heartbroken, desperate, and not knowing what to do (call the ambulance, moron!) he picks up her bleeding, unconscious form, hails a cab, and yes! takes her home. That's right, to his home, not the hospital. We are then treated to pathetic scenes of him trying to save her by lovingly mopping her brow, while she presumably is dying of internal injuries. Not only that, but he continues to go to work, day after day, leaving her at home, suffering, semiconscious, unable to take care of herself, while we are treated to voiceovers of her diary entries being read by her bored brother, at home. Eventually, they make love, she dies, he grieves, he dresses her up and props her up at the kitchen table, and talks to her for many days until she decomposes. And the neighbors never notice? You shouldn't notice either. Don't watch it. The end.
Some of the actors, most notably the female lead and the head gangster, do their best to pull off a believable performance, but you sense they were sabotaged at every junction by bad directing. The male lead, never quite sure which leg he was supposed to limp on, or what exactly was wrong with his back, probably heard directions like "Now, look at the camera. No, wait, don't look!" A few of the actors were truly inept, raising the question as to why they were ever cast, although that brings us back to the director.
Just in case you're still thinking about seeing this film, I'm going to now include a SPOILER. Stop reading now, if you're absolutely intent on ruining your own evening.
Spoiler/spoilage (pun intended): Our hero, the noodle man, is supposedly some kind of mentally deficient loner. Other than depression, and low self-esteem, we're never quite sure what his deficiencies are, any more than we are what is wrong with his leg or back, or maybe the other leg. He takes a fancy to one of the women who frequents his noodle stall, one of a group of prostitutes who hang out in the communal market between "bookings". His morose life drones on, almost as boringly as the movie, until one evening when his secret love interest, drunk after trying to drown her sorrows, is hit by a car outside the market. Heartbroken, desperate, and not knowing what to do (call the ambulance, moron!) he picks up her bleeding, unconscious form, hails a cab, and yes! takes her home. That's right, to his home, not the hospital. We are then treated to pathetic scenes of him trying to save her by lovingly mopping her brow, while she presumably is dying of internal injuries. Not only that, but he continues to go to work, day after day, leaving her at home, suffering, semiconscious, unable to take care of herself, while we are treated to voiceovers of her diary entries being read by her bored brother, at home. Eventually, they make love, she dies, he grieves, he dresses her up and props her up at the kitchen table, and talks to her for many days until she decomposes. And the neighbors never notice? You shouldn't notice either. Don't watch it. The end.