Tears of the black tiger review

I am not a big fan of the Asian cinema.I can't explain why, maybe because the culture is too different to understand or because the films are usually so long and not engaging that I can hardly stay awake through a whole one.I am pretty sure that they can say the same about our cinema.My simple explanation is that our minds work differently and the things that make them laugh or cry are ridiculous for us and the other way round. Even though my review is not very flattering I respect the work that everyone put into making this film.

Tears of the black tiger (2000)

Director: Wisit Sasanatieng

Despite the fact that the film works very hard to entertain us, it is more of a “rising eyebrows” reaction that provokes. But one can’t deny that it is a unique cinematic experience filled with almost pastel looking paintings backgrounds and breathtaking landscapes.

Dum(Chartchai Ngamsan)is a member of the notorious bandits under the name the Black tiger and one of the best shooters in Thailand’s countryside, Rumpoey( Stella Malucchi) is his destined soul mate, who has agreed to marry him despite their class differences. When Dum misses his rendezvous with Rumpoey, she is inconsolable and under too much pressure her father puts her into, accepts a proposal of marriage from Police Captain Kumjorn.

While some parts are certainly funny, the pacing is slow and the story gets caught up in romantic melodrama that at times it's boring and even confusing.

With its cartoon-like violence, corny dialogues, ridiculous vicious laughter and heavy stylized settings the film is obviously intended to be one of those cheesy pop-corn movies.

Unfortunately it is too ridiculous to be funny, too artificial to be truly involving and with the not-chronological-order narrative structure finally frustrating the viewer past the point of caring. Tears of the Black Tiger is a film that is supposed to become a cult one among the fans of the spaghetti westerns adding a drop of surrealism with its garish colours and emotional close-ups.

The violence is puzzling too, whether to laugh or be purely disgusted by the slow motion massacres; woman punched in the stomach or exploding mixture of brain and teeth filled with blood spilling like ketchup on a pizza.  

One man’s masterpiece is another man’s absurdity.