Hsia-King is a watch seller in Taipei, Taiwan, selling his wares on the street and having a hard time coping with the recent loss of his father and finding some purpose in life. One day a prospective buyer, Shiang-Chyi, inquires about his watches but is only interested in Hsia-King's dual time watch, which was his fathers. After pressuring him for the watch, he sells it to her and she departs for Paris. Hsia-king isolates himself from his grieving mother. She begins to await her husbands return, trying to appease his spirit and re-arrange the house (from praying, to blacking out the windows, laying out meals) so his spirit will return. Hsia-king begins to compulsively change clocks to Paris time, everything from clocks on display at a store, to the movie theater, the subway system, and a large street clock. Meanwhile, in Paris, Shiang-Chyi's vacation reflects her own loneliness, being alone in an unfamiliar culture.

Now, while I enjoyed the film, reflecting on it, I can also instantly see multiple reasons for what could potentially be some missteps for most viewers. There is of course the argument that it is a bit obtuse and it does wallow in its ennui with no clear cut answers. Then, of course, there is the pacing. Not everyone likes a slow moving relatively drama free exercise in isolation that is reliant on a minutia of detail. I honestly cannot say if Hsai-King's obsession with Paris has anything to do with a romantic interest in the Shiang-Chyi, or if it is just wanting a connection with what he had of his father, a subconscious regret about giving up the watch. The film is about not only isolation, self absorption, but these strange connections, like Hsai-King to Paris, setting the clocks back, watching Truffuat's The 400 Blows on tv, while in Paris, Shiang-Chyi has an encounter with Jean-Pierre Leaud (the famous, young star of 400 Blows) in a cemetery. But, I think the film works even in spite of its ambiguousness because of its convincing contrast between the sadness of the bereaved and pure absurdist humor. It doesn't really matter if this the fragile connection is a watch or some romantic longing, the three characters dealing with their loneliness is still compelling.

Like Tsia Ming-Liang's other films Vive L'Amour and The Hole, it continues his fascination with urban melancholy and presents it with his well-honed meditative style. What I enjoyed about What Time is it There? is the even balance between the tragically sad and the blackly comic. It's wistful tone reminded me a bit of Wong Kar Wia's Chungking Express which was a more kinetic, comic tale of urban loneliness and longing. It is a film of moments- Hsai-King shows his disinterest in watch selling, killing time waiting for customers by repeatedly slamming a new "indestructible watch" he has for sale against a fence. His mother tells him not to kill a cockroach because it could be their reincarnation of his father, but as soon as her back is turned he feeds it to his fish. Shiang-Chyi stands on a conveyor walkway in Paris, her fellow pedestrians in a rush around her. And, in perhaps the films most touching moment, a segment near the end which intercuts between the three key characters each in some bid for intimacy with differing results, the desperately sad for Hsai-King's mother (whose face already looks like a theatrical 'sadness' mask), hollow for Hsai-King , and the unrequited for Shiang-Chyi (in a great scene with HK star Cecilia Yip).

The film is pretty bittersweet. For both Hsai-King and Shiang-Chyi, Paris and Taipei become one and the same, ghostly locations of overcast skies reflecting a dreariness that inhabits both characters. In the end all are still consumed by their failure to cope or connect. Will they find an end to their alienation? Well, the film is bookmarked by the figure of Hsai-King's father- first we see him in the house, eating alone and calling out to his son who doesn't respond, and then again at the end, a man in Paris, who is perhaps an apparition of Hsai-King's father, crosses paths with Shiang-Chyi. But, even here, there is no clear resolution. Once and awhile, I think everyone needs filmmaker who use such endings, clearing away the easy answers and tidy finales, throwing aside the tired melodrama narratives. What Time is it There? pretension doesn't attempt patronize the viewer or place some philosophical burden on the viewers shoulder. If you are open to its low key style, it is rewarding based purely on its deft emotions and convincing performances.

The DVD: Wellspring.

Picture: Widescreen. Well, the visuals are gorgeous. As a director, when your film is made up of composition that is mainly long static shots, you better make sure every shot counts and have a good cinematographer, which Tsia Ming-Liang does in Benoit Delhomme (Cyclo, Artemisia, The Scent of Green Papaya ). Great color and depth, the transfer has excellent contrast and sharpness, glitch free, and the only real minus it gets is that it is not anamorphic.

Sound: Dolby Digital Stereo, or 5.1 Surround, with optional yellow English subtitles. The sound is great. The film has no musical score and the dialogue is very minimal, mainly just background noises. The languages spoken range from Mandarin, to Taiwanese, French, and English.

Extras: 16 Chapters--- Theatrical and Video release Trailers--- Filmographies for Tsia Ming-Liang and Lee Kang-Sheng--- Director's Notes, a very nice text extra in which Tsia Ming-Liang briefly talks about his actors, his inspiration, and clues into his process of making the film.

Conclusion: I found the film to be a very charming piece of work; well worth a look for fans of foreign cinema. The transfer is fine, so its a good buy for those that are curious and those that are already fans of Tsia Ming-Liang.