dromasca One needs to watch carefully and attentively this film which is not easy, but reserves a lot of interesting and beautiful things, despite a lack of story or actually despite the story not being in the focus of the director. It is a reverence by Taiwanese director Hou Hsiao-Hsien to the Japanese master director Ozu on the 100th anniversary of it's birthday. However, it is not a film of quotes, but rather a travel to research what is left of Ozu's world in the Japan of today, and the connection between Taiwan and Japan in the world that was once Ozu's.There are a lot of trains in this film. This passion for railways may be taken from Ozu, but in 'Cafe Lumiere' about third of the film happens in trains or railway stations. A memorable sequence describes the universe of metropolis with trains entering and exiting tunnels, another shows in a computer generated drawing an universe of trains, squeezing a minuscule uterus and a child - maybe the expected child of Yoko, the principal character of the film, or maybe symbol of fragility of our existence in the modern world.Another fantastic scene of cinema presents the house of Yoko's parents at her arrival. We can see just Yoko's mother in the last plane preparing food in a lit kitchen, then the kitchen is framed by the house guest room, which is at its turn framed by the doors and external walls of the house. Then the sound of a car is heard, and we more guess than see the arrival of Yoko and her father reflected in a glass door. Four planes in the same frame, with no move of the camera.The story is minimalistic, and whoever looks for action risks to be deeply bored. The actors perform so well that the word 'perform' is not not adequate here, they live the characters. They seldom interact, they never stare in each others eyes, but rather look in different planes, same as the trains movements never intersect. They do however care for each other, and the story is a delicate one of familial solidarity and deep friendship in a world that may look frightening. These characters could have been part of a film by Ozu.

Cheetah-6 This ain't no Hollywood movie, it isn't even the run of the mill foreign film. It is pure Japanese Zen. The isolation of the crowd – lack of meaningful contact between humans – In Yoko's family more words mean less- A soulful sort of warmth exists between Yoko and the book store friend, he searches for something significant in recording of train sounds- The warmest exchange is between Yoko, her mother and a neighbor during a scene of borrowing sake and a glass for the father- who is a walking stone sculpture. The father of the unborn child is a mysterious stranger to us the viewer and is only referred to but never seen. One young woman and her relationship with trains is as significant as any human contact in her life. At any point in this film you can push pause and have an interesting photograph to ponder – every scene is a composed beauty.

tangoviudo Cafe Lumiere is a beautifully photographed nullity. Unacquainted with the work of the director, I am well-acquainted with the filmmaker he is supposedly paying tribute to - Ozu Yasujiro. While not even approaching Ozu in greatness, Hou has communicated nothing of Ozu's depth of emotion and concentration on meaning within a closed space. One of the things he misses entirely is Ozu's attention to character - we are not even "introduced" by Hou to his lead character (a perfect blank page). There are no medium or close shots of his people. One of the DVD extras offers interviews with the actors and gives us precisely what Hou doesn't - a good look at their faces.There was a great Spanish film by Bardem called Nunca Pasa Nada, which translates to something like "Nothing Ever Happens". That would be a far better title to this pointless exercise. All through the film we are given clues about an obscure Taiwanese composer some of whose work we hear on the soundtrack. But the clues, like everything else, add up to nothing. Unless you're a trainspotter, this film has nothing to recommend it.

Pidgey1 Café Lumiere is a joyful slice, a little piece, which is both satisfying and leaves you wanting to move on to another day within the context of the movie. The story and characters are inconsequential, this is relayed through long shots, or entire scenes with the character's back facing the camera, or the mumbled dialog. What is relevant is the light, sound movement, ordinary experience of existence. Yasurjiro Ozu the brilliant director who managed to give a entire sensibility to the mundane and static pedestrian point of view, is present here, but the light and tone of this movie is all about everyday Japan and its timeless pace. The essence of this film is it's universality and regard for the human experience. It is brilliant and fantastic as a reflection of the world at large and as a microcosm.