Cape No. 7

This movie really captures the type of local people who live in the Southern parts of Taiwan. The true local people, the type who have never left their hometown and the type who have never adapted with the times. For a Taiwanese person this movie will be hilarious, it truly shows the older generation characters are being the way most of elders are. The actual foul language in Taiwanese dialect can never really be understood unless you realise how bad these words are, and the true meaning of said words and phrases.

Some would say this is a romantic comedy, for me it was more of just a comedy. The romance seemed little and not massively important to the story. For me the story was about a group of people coming together to create a band which no one would've ever thought possible, not the locals and not even the band members themselves. The romance was a side part, it wasn't enough to make you feel sorry for the characters or enough to make you want them to be together.

In Taiwan this is the biggest movie ever, well it certainly seems that way. The Taiwanese rant and rave about it like its the greatest thing since sliced bread, there might be many reasons why... Because it truly captures some of the Taiwanese elders perfectly, or perhaps because Taiwan makes very few movies. And the other only big movies made in Taiwan are of a sexual nature (Tsai Ming-liang).

Overall I did enjoy this movie but I feel without my knowledge of Mandarin language and Taiwanese Dialect, along with my experience of living in Taiwan for a number of years I wouldn't have enjoyed this movie as much. Without a true understanding of the setting there's no way I would've found even half of the jokes amusing.

I think if you know about Taiwanese culture, or if you've visited Taiwan you'll enjoy this movie. But if you don't have such knowledge or experiences you might want to pass this movie by as it won't be enough to entertain you for 2+hours.

By the time I watched this film, it has broken Taiwan's all time box-office record. Taiwan has no Hollywood, but for decades until recent years, it has produced dozens of movies every year. It's been the hub of Chinese-speaking film making industry and nurtured internationally renowned directors such as Hsiao-hsien Hou, Edward Yang and, of course, Ang Lee. That's why it's a surprise to see what the film has achieved because, whichever way you look at it, it fell short of many high standards set by its predecessors. It's by no means a bad movie though. A warm story executed reasonably well. The elements of romance and certainly music (Taiwan's pop music industry is also well developed) added to its viewing pleasure. Beautiful photography gives extra charms to the tropical town in the southern tip of the island. Acting wise not overall brilliant, but some roles depicting typical local characteristics are particularly lovable. Old Mao is the best example.

Perhaps the underlying reason for the film's popularity is something beyond its plot. Taiwan society, in recent years, has suffered from slow economy, isolation from the world as a result of "One China Policy", and especially the conflict between political parties within the island. People are tired. Tired of struggling to make a living in the big cities and tired of watching confrontations among politics everyday and night on TV. The simple small town lifestyle and good-willed characters demonstrated in the film remind people of the good old days. For two hours, it's like providing an escape for people who have long been trapped or bringing light to people who have long been live in dark. This film will represent Taiwan for the quest of Oscar's best foreign language film. It's not going to win. It's even unlikely to be nominated. But, maybe by accident, this film has achieved something that makes it bigger than winning prizes -- bringing hope to depressed souls!

For those viewers who are rusty on their Taiwanese history, Cape No. 7 is a good time, a sweet if somewhat angsty love story, and an intriguing glimpse into the day-to-day life of a Taiwanese town. For those who do know something of Taiwan's history and present international deadlock, the film becomes a vocal assertion of selfhood.

The amorous tension in the film is between a local Taiwanese boy, Aga, and a Japanese model, Tomoko. Aga has returned home to his small seaside village moody and gruff after failing to make it as a musician in Taipei, while Tomoko, trying to organize a Japanese pop star's concert at a nearby resort, has been tasked with finding locals good enough to form the opening band. A sweet if somewhat skimmed-over subplot involves a failed romance set during the aftermath of Japan's occupation of Taiwan in World War II, in which a young Japanese teacher writes letters to his Taiwanese beloved as he sails home to Japan. Sixty years later, these letters now find their way into the hands of Aga and Tomoko, who determine to discover their owner.

Both love stories reflect aspects of Taiwan's relationship with Japan at different times in its history. The Japanese teacher deserted his Taiwanese beloved, much as the Japanese deserted Taiwan after the war, turning over the reigns of their repressive but adept rule to the even more iron-fisted Chiang Kai-shek. During colonization, Japanese cultural systems were forcibly enforced on the island; under Chiang's rule, Chinese culture was dominant. In both cases, local Taiwanese culture was considered second-best. The movie addresses these issues of abandonment and desire for equality. Aga yearns for recognition of his talent, which he finally gets when Tomoko confesses her love and when his music – specifically a traditional Taiwanese ballad - is embraced both by the local villagers and, more importantly, by the Japanese pop star, who says he "knows the song." By winning the love of Tomoko and the acknowledgement of the Japanese pop star, Aga – and Taiwan – claim equal footing at last.

The film can also be seen in light of Taiwan's current condition as a pariah in international relations. As a country formally recognized by only 23 states, most of them small islands in the Pacific, Taiwan has fought tooth and nail for just minimal acknowledgement from the world community. (This year's small victory as an observer in the World Health Assembly, which as part of the United Nations has traditionally refused to recognize Taiwan, is one such example.) Taiwan's lack of global recognition is due in a large part to the influence of China, which sees Taiwan as part of its territory. Tellingly, Cape No. 7 makes no mention of China or the Chinese influence on the island; most of the dialogue is in Taiwanese, Japanese, or Taiwan guoyu (Taiwanese Mandarin). Mandarin Chinese, the official language of China, becomes the compromise language between Tomoko and the Taiwanese villagers – she snaps at them, "I can't understand your Taiwanese accent!" and they make fun of her, saying, "Who can understand her Chinese?" Mandarin, although a necessary tool for communicating, is a foreign tongue for all of them, which illustrates the ambivalent position of China in the world of the film. In real life, ties between Taiwan and its Mainland neighbor have thawed rapidly; the two now permit direct flights, the first in sixty years, and economic relations grow closer with each dip of the stock market. China's marginalization in the film, however, consciously disregards that part of Taiwan's complicated present to explore other aspects of Taiwanese identity – perhaps a way of fighting back against the influence the PRC has increasingly tried to cast over the island.

Aside from being a love story that will appeal to the emotion-laden teenager in all of us, Cape No. 7 is a glimpse into an unvarnished, unapologetic Taiwan. From pompous local politics, to millet wine and karaoke, to betel nuts and motorcycle mail delivery, the film throws back the shutters on all aspects of a Taiwanese village. Many of the actors in this production are not professionals, and it is the honest, tattered-at-the-edges quality of the scenes that most transports the audience into the world of the film.

Cape No. 7 is the coming-of-age story of a nation. Shot on a shoestring and popularized by word of mouth, the film became one of the highest grossing ever to be shown in Taiwan, second only to Titanic. It is rare for Taiwanese films to receive much attention in the U.S., but as a confident self-introduction, Cape No. 7 has the potential to be the film that crosses the impasse. And now that Taiwan is coming into its own, hopefully this will be the first of many vibrant films to come out of this small but spirited country.

Wow! I just finished seeing this with a group of friends and everybody in the cinema seemed to truly enjoy themselves.

Filmed in Taiwan with a Taiwanese director and mostly local actors, this timeless plot features a small town that must come up with a band comprised of local musicians that will be the opening act for a big beach concert starring a big Japanese star. Will the beautiful Japanese concert coordinator fall for the local boy that has left a musical career in Taipei to return home to become a mailman? Can a band with a 10-year-old keyboardist, a 70-year-old bassist, and various other misfits help put Hengchun on the map?

This may strike some as a Taiwanese version of "The Commitments"/"School of Rock" and, yes, there are a few saccharine moments. Yet, director Wei Te-sheng, a former assistant director under the legendary Edward Yang (director of one of Taiwan's all-time best films, "Yi Yi," IMHO), skillfully pulls everything off without a hitch. Recommended to movie lovers of all ages!

The title is what I believe after I saw this movie.

Cape No.7 is a great movie and a humble self-introduction of Taiwan. Few that live in mainland China know the real Taiwan. What are the people like? How is their life there? These questions are not merely out of our curiosity; it's more because we care.

Movie has always been a good way of knowing other peoples and cultures. I've always been wanting to know Taiwan through their movies, but the fact is movie industry of Taiwan hasn't been doing well for a long time. If you go to a DVD shop(not to mention cinema) and look for Taiwan movies, mostly, you'll find, or the owner will recommend to you stupid little romances with good-looking faces or extremely low-key boring meaningless experiments(usually in experiments' disguise making erotic stuff), but what we wanna see and the filmmakers in Taiwan should show us is a real Taiwan, a real life of the people. Unlike most other Taiwan movies you can easily find, Cape No.7 is not only a 100% percent authentic Taiwan movie, encouragingly, it's honest and humble too, in order that a real Taiwan will be demonstrated to everyone, including Taiwan natives.

And the effort paid off. We see the beauty of the island, and the beauty of its people. You may think of another movie that is like a place's self-introduction, The Barber of Siberia. Critics say Russia in The Barber of Siberia is not the real Russia, which is not that good in fact. You might feel Taiwan in Cape No.7 is not the real Taiwan either; you might think Taiwan could never be such a nice place. Truthfully, Taiwan has its good and bad things, if there is nothing good in Taiwan and the movie tells you it's good then that's called fake; if there are good things and people, and the movie shows the good to us, why should we say it's not real? There is a time to reveal bad and ugly and there is a time to show good and beauty. Same reasoning with The Barber of Siberia. At this moment, why don't we enjoy seeing a good, beautiful and true Taiwan and hope there are more and more movies like Cape No.7.