Raetsonwe Redundant and unnecessary.

FeistyUpper If you don't like this, we can't be friends.

Odelecol Pretty good movie overall. First half was nothing special but it got better as it went along.

Hayden Kane There is, somehow, an interesting story here, as well as some good acting. There are also some good scenes

najania The cinema of helmer Hou Hsiao-Hsien is sometimes criticized for thin or truncated plots and lack of character development. Perhaps these criticisms are barking up the wrong tree, as I suspect it works on another plane: his movies are neither narrative- nor character- driven, but atmosphere-driven, for want of a better term. "Three Times" is certainly better appreciated if viewed in this light.Hou tells three love stories set at different times (hence the English title) over a period of about 100 years (hence the Japanese title, which translates "Hundred-Year Linked Verse"). In each tale, the star-crossed lovers are diligently played by Chang Chen and Shu Qi. The setting is Taiwan for all. The first is set mainly in billiard halls in 1966, which, however, looks and feels more like what would be 1959 if the location were the States. This impression is reinforced by the apt choice of music; the dominant track is the Platters immortal rendition of "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes," which was released in 1958. We also hear "Rain and Tears," which constitutes a temporal anomaly because it was released in 1968, after the purported time of the story. This is also before the sexual revolution, and the lovers, for all their posturing, are perfectly hesitant, awkward, and unsure. The thirst for love culminates in a tentative reach for the other's hand, merely to hold, at a bus stop.The second tale is set in an up-scale house of pleasure in 1911, and toward the end comes the news of the outbreak of the Xinhai revolution that eventually overthrew the Qing dynasty. It is told silently, any dialogue being presented in inter-titles. It pairs a refined courtesan with a revolutionary-minded man of letters, whose limits end up breaking her heart as well as dashing her dream of freedom, as the piece is actually titled in Chinese (the "dreams" are rendered "times" in English). Despite the absence of spoken dialogue, music is present in the form of old Chinese songs lip-synched by Shu while accompanying herself on a stringed instrument (possibly a "yueqin") and exquisite improvisation by Taiwanese pianist Constance Lee.Coming on the heels of the second, the third tale seems like a slap in the face as we find ourselves abruptly speeding down an expressway in the bustling and gray Taipei of the present. Life is fast, too. Shu is Jing, a jagged-edged new-age bisexual chanteuse who projects an icy persona on stage but is fragile, unstable, and subject to epileptic seizures in reality. Chang plays a biker suitor with whom she eventually finds respite, at least for a while, one hopes. In this "time," the two appropriately waste no time getting into the sack, no questions asked, and the music is appropriately techno and hard.While most reviewers prefer the first Dream of Love, the second dream is clearly the best in my mind. Despite its sluggish pace and what might be taken as temps mort, there is not a single superfluous moment in it. It grinds ever so slowly but inexorably to an emotionally crushing conclusion. The frames are literally pretty as pictures - the comparison by one reviewer here to Vermeer is no exaggeration, especially for one vignette in which the courtesan helps her Mr. Chang dress before a mirror. This is also the extent of physical contact we see between the two, but such restraint only seems to underscore the depth of her love for him.Running through all three dreams is the leitmotif of text, written with a ballpoint pen in the first, brush and ink in the second, and mobile phone in the third. In the first, Chang's character whiles away his hours at the billiard hall with the hostess right beside him, but when he wants to bare his heart, he writes her a letter. In the last, the web and teletext are where the principals go to get key information and deliver messages of real substance. And in the second, the most poignant scene comes when the courtesan, after reading a letter from the delinquent Mr. Chang, is moved to actually stroke the characters on the paper with her fingers, as if they were the hand that had written them and could give solace for her unrequited love.A 10 for the middle piece, which could be likened to a single, perfectly executed episode from Hou's "Flowers of Shanghai," and 6 or 7 for the two bookending it.

Vishwas Verma Nominated for Palme d'Or at Cannes Film Festival in 2005, Hsiao-hsien Hou's Three Times is a moody exploration of love, freedom and youth. The movie unfolds in three separate stories which take place in three different time zones over a century in Taiwan, with the main roles in each story played by same two actors – Qi Shu and Chen Chang.In the first story – A Time for Love – set in 1966, Chen meets May in a bar while playing pool. They stay in touch when he joins the army, but when he comes back May doesn't work in the same bar anymore. So he seeks her to different places. In the second – A Time for Freedom – set in 1911, Mr. Chang is frequent visitor to a brothel where he keeps interacting with a singer. When he frees one of the other girls by providing financial help, the singer asks if he would help her too. The last story – A Time for Youth – set in 2005, shows a relationship of girl with a photographer and a bisexual singer.This is one movie where actually "nothing happens". There are long shots without any dialogue at all, camera just pondering on characters when they do trite stuff, where everything depends on whether you will get sucked into the day to day lives of these people. But even then when you find yourself hooked to the screen, and admire each shot for its perfection and at the same time you connect with the characters all of them being from radically different eras.The music plays a huge part in the movie and sets the gloomy mood of the movie throughout – especially in the second and third stories. In fact, in the second story, there is no spoken dialogue at all. Though you can see people speaking, all you hear is a long musical piece in the background, and you get to see what is spoken written on the screen like in a silent movie. The first story is played on the background of two soulful songs – Smoke Gets in Your Eyes by The Platters and Rain and Tears by Aphrodite's Child. I became an instant fan of these two songs. I would love to go back to watch this movie again just to listen to these songs with great visuals and atmosphere of love and longing.Qi Shu gives electrifying performances as May in the first story, the singer in the second, and as the girl torn between the loves of his boyfriend and a girl. Chen Chang is also brilliant – particularly in the first and last story. The best part of the movie is the direction, where Hou keeps you riveted for nearly two hours without much of any story. Overall, this is one of the best movies I have seen in recent which I would love to watch again and again.http://vishwas8317.blogspot.in/2012/12/threetimes.html

Chad Shiira Not known for big emotional payoffs, this internationally-acclaimed, but audience polarizing filmmaker, better known for modulation than sensation, in "A Time for Love", the first of three stories from "Zui hao de shi guang", atypically gives the people what they want: a reason to cry, and an occasion to nod in recognition. This cerebral, often clinical Taiwanese director, has made the unthinkable...a crowd-pleaser; it's the closest he'll ever get to mainstream filmmaker. "A Time for Love" contains a scene every bit as iconic as the moment Lloyd Dobler(John Cusack) holds his boom-box towards Diana Court's window, as Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" dovetails with the night air like a prayer, in Cameron Crowe's "Say Anything". The genesis of the momentous instant when two hands, isolated from their star-crossed owners, find each other and clasp together like nervous magnets, begins in earnest, in a billiards room, where the same man and woman will meet three times across different generations. This is the second time; the year is 1966. At a train station, a man and woman share an umbrella; they're too late to catch a train, but right on time for love. It's raining.In "Lexus and Butters", an episode of Season 6 of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's "South Park", Cartman and the gang visit the local Hooters where Butters falls under the spell of a Hooters waitress. Failing to understand that Lexus entertains men for a living, he pursuses her, confusing the girl's professional flirting with love. Butter's plight is Chen's plight as well, in "Zui hao de shi guang", a soldier, who writes a letter to the pool girl, describing his time with her as a happy experience. In the scene, we see the aftermath of his mistake; we see the slight curl in the girl's lip before she folds the letter away. The girl leaves. May(Qi Shu) is her replacement. During a long, drawn-out scene, Chen(Chen Chang) and the pool girl shoot a game, in which the long take allows the viewer to see how chemistry works, how mutual ground can unfold into elevation. They're largely silent, but it's a comfortable silence, interjected with Chen's apprehensive incursions about this sinuous girl holding a stick. It looks like a date, but the spontaneity of actualization is dashed by a feminine arm that appears suddenly in frame under Chen, cigarette in mouth, lining up his shot, to lay down an ashtray. It's May's job to smile. He pays her. But in an earlier scene, May found the letter he wrote to the other pool girl, setting up the possibility that she takes pleasure in entertaining the soldier. She's no Lexus; he's no Butters.Like the late Johnny Cash, Chen has "been everywhere" too, man; instead of "Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota, Toronto...," Chen has been to Gangshen, Jiayi, Shuishang, Xinying...," looking for May. The town names may be Chinese, but the music in "A Time for Love" is conspicuously American, when it matters. The filmmaker uses The Platters' "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" and Aphrodite Child's "Rain and Tears" to convey romance, seemingly, in a way that western audiences can understand. When Cheng finds May in a Huwei pool hall, the girl reacts with such obvious delight, the audience can now differentiate May's professional smile from her genuine one. Unusual for this filmmaker, the following scene at a noodle cafe, is brief, succinct, and to-the-point: May looks at Cheng, waiting for the soldier to make the next move. The two American songs have the effect of explaining the American length of the scene, even though it carries the filmmaker's trademark of a fixed camera and no dialogue. And that next move; it's not an overture for intimacy, or even a kiss, it's the simple desire to hold a girl's hand. While "A Time for Freedom"(for people who liked "Hai Shang Hua") and "A Time for Youth(for people who could tolerate "Qian xi man po") have its strong points, "A Time for Love" is an unqualified success.

zetes A triptych film about love in different time periods. The first segment takes place in 1966, the second in 1911 and the third in 2005. Like all multiple-segment movies, the segments are of varying quality. People will of course prefer different segments. The first segment is simple and sweet. A man, about to embark on military duty, meets up with a girl who works in a pool hall. He falls in love with her, and writes her after he leaves. When he returns, he searches for her desperately, and they spend a too-short evening together. It's nice, but it doesn't amount to much. The 1960s American love songs strike me as completely antithetical to everything Hou has stood for in the past. I would be surprised if someone saw this and didn't call to mind Wong Kar-Wai. To be perfectly honest, I had a damn tough time paying any attention at all to the second segment. The story works within historical, cultural and political contexts that are not always easy to understand. For some odd reason, Hou decides to convey the dialogue as if it were a silent movie. It's a strange and pointless gimmick. 1911 is a tad too early to be thinking of any well-known silent cinema. I'm guessing that China had barely seen the technology yet. Plus, the segment is filmed just as the other two are, in splendorous colors (the photography is drop-dead gorgeous throughout). I'm not big on Hou, and I'm not especially big on silent cinema, either, so the cocktail did absolutely nothing for me. Oh, and that awful upscale-hotel elevator music is just unbearable! The third segment is by far my favorite, and probably my second favorite thing Hou has ever done. Possibly even the best; I'd have to re-watch Flowers of Shanghai. It's quiet and subtle, like all of Hou's films, but, as rarely happens with me in his cinema, I actually connected with the characters and the story. I don't know if I would have liked it if it were an entire feature, but at this length it worked quite well. Oh, and Shu Qi is a babe. She was also in Millennium Mambo. Kind of wish Hou would have let her make out with that girl in that last segment. Damn you Hou Hsiao-Hsien!