Stream It Or Skip It: ‘Cities of Last Things’ on Netflix, an Ambitious Drama Tackling Noir, Sci-fi and Melodrama

Netflix snapped up Cities of Last Things after it won the Platform Prize — for “high artistic merit and strong directorial vision” — at the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival. There’s little argument Taiwan-based writer/director Wi Ding Ho exhibits those characteristics, telling one man’s troubled life story in three chapters, in three parts of his life, in three different styles and, most ambitiously, in reverse chronological order.

CITIES OF LAST THINGS: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?

The Gist: The movie opens when Zhang Dong Ling (Jack Kao) is roughly 60 years old, and living in a persistent-surveillance police-state future. Citizens have microchips implanted in their wrists, and Zhang has a decades-old chip on his shoulder. He refuses to give his wife, Yu Fang (Liu Juei-chi), a divorce, 30 years after an as-yet-unrevealed incident separated them. He visits a French prostitute (Louise Grinberg); he acquires a gun and a microchip, still in a dead man’s hand, and uses both for heinous means; he visits his adult daughter (Shin Yin), soon to move out of the country, and has what seems to be a long-overdue heart-to-heart with her.

Part two is set roughly in the present. Zhang is a police officer who chases down a serial shoplifter, Ara (also Louise Grinberg). His daughter is a toddler; he walks in on Yu Fang (Huang Lu) committing an act of betrayal; he clashes with corrupt co-workers. He reconnects with Ara after a chance encounter, and she helps him after the bad cops nearly beat him senseless. All this segment is missing is a hard-bitten voiceover in which Zhang mutters about troublesome dames and hard luck.

The third chapter focuses on another chance encounter: In the year 2000, 17-year-old Zhang (Hsieh Chang-Ying) finds himself in the police station, handcuffed to a rail adjacent Big Sister Wang (Ning Ding). He stole a scooter; she’s an informant in the thick of some trouble. What happens next goes a long way toward explaining the Zhang we saw in previous episodes.

What Movies Will It Remind You Of?: The first segment blends Never Let Me Go with elements of Minority Report, Blade Runner and every future-dystopia movie featuring a 1984-esque Robotic Authoritative Voice speaking to the citizenry over a public-address system. The second is a gorgeously photographed neo-noir, recalling Oldboy, Collateral or Nightcrawler. And the third blends those noir sensibilities with melodrama in the vein of Wong Kar-wai.

Performance Worth Watching: The women in Zhang’s life are key to unlocking his character, and the actresses make the most of their scenes. Shin Yin gives her character a telling warmth: her father ultimately raised her to be a good, empathetic person, despite his own flaws. Louise Grinberg balances sincerity and sexiness as the woman who incites his impulses. And Ning Ding gives a standout performance, allowing regret and melancholy to seep through her character’s street-hardened exterior, all in a single expression; her work is extraordinary.

Memorable Dialogue: Netflix’s curious decision to use closed-caption-style subtitles means we get numerous instances of “[squelching]” to describe sound effects. It’s not technically dialogue, but it’s amusing to see it used in the context of sex scenes and incidents of extreme violence.

Single Best Shot: An alarmingly askew overhead angle captures Zhang moments after a high-drama scene — his life has gone sideways.

Sex and Skin: Wi Ding Ho doesn’t shy away from the lusty stuff, whether it’s Zhang’s visit to a prostitute or his explicit recreation of Yu Wang’s fornicatory betrayal.

Our Take: Life is messy, and Zhang’s is especially fraught and complex, guided by the psychological damage he endured, and could never overcome. Life also never adheres to a single tone, and it blends comedy and tragedy in curious ways; it also progresses ruthlessly despite your myriad hangups and impediments.

These are the ideas I took away from the curiously, awkwardly titled Cities of Last Things. Its reverse-reflective structure is challenging but never a chore, and reframes its themes in a compelling manner, where a conventional narrative would have neutered their more profound qualities with rote familiarity. Wi Ding Ho hasn’t made a particularly entertaining film, but it’s thoughtful and restlessly original, in the sense that the director’s ambition is transparent, if not always seamless or effortless. Technically, the film is outstanding; the first chapter immerses us in quietly surreal sci-fi, and the second subtly co-opts noir tropes without ever compromising the filmmaker’s voice. And the third segment shows Wi’s ability to draw out affecting performances from his talented cast.

Our Call: STREAM IT. Somber and consistently provocative, Cities of Last Things is a solid drama with sincere thematic vision and an abundance of style.

John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com or follow him on Twitter: @johnserba.

Stream Cities Of Last Things on Netflix