Tsai Ming-liang, the Taiwanese director of a decade’s worth of urban hilarity—all of it bone-dry and gorgeous in structure, not to mention achingly sad—deserves better than praise. He deserves to be seen. I say blame the messenger: Tsai invites the most flattering of comparisons from grizzled posses of critics bent on running down the next severe master à la Antonioni and… return to article
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