2023 Tarkovsky Prize 2nd Place: Elena Sasu
REBELS OF THE NEON GOD: Existing Without Living
by Elena Sasu
Rebels of the Neon God, a Taiwanese film written and directed by Ming-liang Tsai, follows the lives of several young men and women as they traverse the monotony and loneliness of their everyday lives in Taipei. Hsiao-Kang attends a cram school, living with his parents and seemingly isolated from others his age. Ah Tze and Ah Ping have a close friendship revolving around arcade games and thievery, yet part ways every night to return home to empty apartments. Ah Kuei shifts between inclusion in Ah Tze and Ah Ping’s friendship and being cast aside by Ah Tze during their romantic relationship. Ming-liang Tsai utilizes sharp setting contrasts, interpersonal relationships, and character motivations to showcase the deep unhappiness and unfulfillment of a life without purpose or connection.
The Taipei explored in Rebels of the Neon God is a large and bustling city, full of life and energy. In the day, cars and mopeds battle for domination of the busy streets. Night-time brings bright neon lights and crowds of people at restaurants and skating rinks. Regardless, the characters never seem to be swept up into this tide of vitality and vibrancy, maintaining a somber air throughout most scenes. As soon as Hsiao-Kang or Ah Tze enter into their private spaces and shut the door behind them, the viewer is overcome with an atmosphere of despair. The camera frequently pans to the water flooding Ah Tze’s apartment, receding and then slowly seeping back up, a feeling of helplessness setting in when he gives up trying to clear the drain and just accepts that he’ll have to wade through water to even reach his bed. Smooth camera transitions between characters as they lay curled up on a bed or grudgingly go through the motions of hated everyday responsibilities highlight their shared depression. Although they adopt a cheery facade when around each other, the camera strips them of this mask, chronicling their private fatigue and despondency. Throughout the film, dialogue takes a backseat as the scenery and cinematography convey the constantly shifting mood. Ming-liang Tsai capitalizes upon the vivid color and atmosphere of the city, artfully creating high contrast with the silence and blandness of lives that seem completely removed from their surroundings. It is made abundantly clear that this disconnect is an underlying cause of their melancholy reality.
Rebels of the Neon God is full of complex and emotional relationships, often characterized by a lack of communication or mutual understanding. Although they live together, Hsiao-Kang and his father have a very distant and superficial relationship. Initially, this isn’t due to lack of trying on his father’s behalf. An early scene shows him trying to bond with his son, suggesting they go see a movie together. When they buy fruit to eat at the market, he wordlessly shovels half of his onto his son’s plate. These actions are touching, but the scene turns sorrowful as Hsiao-Kang remains silent, not willing to form a connection. This coldness between them makes it especially strangethat Hsiao-Kang is willing to abandon everything to seek revenge for his father. Theirrelationship takes a turn for the worse when Hsiao-Kang drops out of cram school,culminating in his father locking him out of the house. His life spirals downwards as he gets cut off from his family, wandering the streets of Taipei alone and unnoticed.
Another relationship central to the film is the romance, if it can even be called that, between Ah Tze and Ah Kuei. When they meet, they initially behave like carefree teens, laughing and exploring and drinking a little too much. Frustration grows as she clearly desires a committed relationship from him, but his emotional unavailability leaves her feeling used and unimportant. The viewer is constantly faced with scenes of Ah Tze abandoning Ah Kuei, from standing her up on a date to repeatedly leaving her after they’ve slept together. As the camera pans out from her sleeping figure to the emptiness of an unfamiliar room, we know the misery we will see on her face when she awakes. Yet, she keeps returning to him, despite the fact that he is clearly not willing or able to give her the love that she deserves. In a way, their relationship is plagued by similar issues to the relationship between Hsiao-Kang and his father. Resentment and frustration are allowed to build as they do anything but talk about their emotions or the problems they’re facing. Any level of communication would be beneficial, but instead they struggle forwards alone, pushing away everyone around them. Again and again, these failed relationships highlight the theme of complete disconnect between these characters and the world around them.
Rebels of the Neon God masterfully explores the futility of a life lacking purpose. Although some characters attend school or have jobs, none are following their passions, and each day only drains them further. The only instance of anyone showing any drive is during Hsiao-Kang’s quest for vengeance. When Ah Tze shatters the side mirror of his father’s car, he is seemingly possessed with a desire for retribution. It starts off with a quiet sort of anger, the scenes imbued with a sense of creepiness as Hsiao-Kang obsessively stalks Ah Tze throughout the city, constantly appearing in the corner of the camera frame like a ghost. This obsession is all-consuming, and yet Hsiao-Kang’s face doesn’t betray a single shred of emotion until he succeeds in his revenge. As Ah Tze discovers his vandalized moped, scratched and covered in brightly colored spray paint, Hsiao-Kang watches from above. He is overcome with glee, jumping up and down on his bed while grinning and cackling like a madman. Revenge gives him a goal to achieve, and allows him to finally exert some element of control over his own life. Regardless, as soon as his convoluted mission is over, he is back to square one. Just like everyone else, his narrative is predominantly devoid of purpose and meaning, overwhelmed by the sheer tedium of his daily routine.
The ending of Rebels of the Neon God is unsatisfying. There is no grand finale, no heartfelt resolution. As the wins and losses even out, no character truly ends up in a better place than where they started. Hsiao-Kang succeeds in exacting his revenge, but at the cost of his family and potentially even his future. Ah Tze and Ah Kuei may find happiness as a couple, but Ah Tze’s and Ah Ping’s criminal activity has caught up to them. They are all still in Taipei, stuck in the endless drudgery of a life without any sort of fulfillment. Through sharp setting contrasts, interpersonal relationships, and character motivations, Ming-liang Tsai creates an almost tangible sense of despair and depression caused by a lack of purpose and connection. If I had to summarize the message of this movie, I would call upon the words of Oscar Wilde: “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” Rebels of the Neon God is so compelling and evocative because it feeds upon what I believe is a commonly held fear — that we will be so busy battling through our lives that we will forget to live them.