Out there

Tokyo. Or perhaps Taipei. Out There constantly navigates between both cities, and the clues dropped by Takehiro Ito as to where the action takes place vanish just as you were about to grasp them. This is the story of a film that never happened. Ito is similar to his lead character, a director: in a suspended state, with a failed project between his hands. His film needs a new actor in order to exist again. This actor is Ma (as himself), born in Taiwan, who wanders around Tokyo on roller blades. More than for a place, he is searching for an emotion: the feeling of being home. The two men wonder how one can exist in this world. Travelling back and forth through secret gates between Tokyo and its former colony Taiwan, Out There unfolds a multiple structure: in turns a documentary, a film within a film, a love story and the story of a drift. Following Edward Yang’s footsteps (the film starts from a failed documentary project on this Taiwanese director), Ito pictures the city as the first witness of its times.
Digital black and white images are combined with warm 16mm sequences summoning up the ruins of the past: the passing of time is the only concrete point of reference, as is the remote prospect of emigration to the US. For Ito, the only condition for the film’s liberation is surrender. Out There is a praise of stumble and trial, seen as alternative realities where a film can continue to exist. Under his apparent mildness, Ito questions the vibrant fragments of our social and cultural identities. (VP)