Three Times Hou Hsiao Hsien [repack]
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Compare this film to Hou Hsiao-hsien's other works like or The Assassin .
Structured as three distinct segments, the film stars Shu Qi and Chang Chen in every episode, playing different characters who circle one another in various stages of romantic tension. By stripping away traditional narrative continuity, Hou invites the audience to focus not on the outcome of a relationship, but on the texture of the moments that define it. three times hou hsiao hsien
Searching for Three Times —or writing about it—is not just an act of film criticism. It is an act of mourning. Because Hou Hsiao-hsien, now in his late 70s, has not made a film since The Assassin (2015). There are rumors of dementia, of retirement, of a lost script called The Daughter of the Nile .
Throughout his illustrious career, Hou Hsiao-Hsien has been recognized with numerous accolades, including the prestigious Golden Lion award at the Venice Film Festival. His influence can be seen in the work of many younger filmmakers, both in Taiwan and internationally. Hou's innovative storytelling, visual style, and thematic concerns have inspired a new generation of directors, ensuring his legacy as a master filmmaker. This public link is valid for 7 days
The silent film aesthetic acts as a metaphor for the voicelessness of the Taiwanese people under colonial rule, while the rigid, formal manners of the era contrast with the longing for freedom.
Hou Hsiao-hsien’s three times are not stages of a linear career but concentric circles. Historical time ( A Time to Live… ) asks us to feel what is absent; intimate time ( Flowers of Shanghai ) asks us to feel the ritual that contains desire; ghostly time ( The Assassin ) asks us to feel the world as a dream that no one remembers dreaming. Across five decades, Hou has resisted the tyranny of the cut, the close-up, and the causal plot. Instead, he offers a cinema of duration, patience, and sensory immersion. To watch Hou is not to follow a story but to inhabit a temperature, a humidity, a duration. In his world, time is never neutral. It is the true protagonist—silent, relentless, and ultimately, all we have. Can’t copy the link right now
Shu Qi delivers a tour de force performance, seamlessly transitioning from the shy, radiant pool-hall girl to the poised, weeping courtesan, and finally to the self-destructive, modern bohemian. Her expressive face operates as the emotional compass of the film. Chang Chen provides the perfect counterweight, embodying varying degrees of masculinity—from the earnest, lovesick soldier to the emotionally detached intellectual and the modern, drifting youth. Their onscreen chemistry is palpable, yet Hou deliberately subverts it; the tragedy of Three Times is that as the socio-political barriers to love decrease over the century, the characters' ability to truly connect seems to diminish. Aesthetic Mastery: The Long Take and the Unspoken
Taking place in a Dadaocheng tea house (brothel) during the Japanese occupation, this chapter examines love constrained by rigid social and political duty. The Complexity of Minimalism: Hou Hsiao-hsien's Three Times