AU REVOIR, TAIPEI review

The danger of making a light and fluffy caper movie is the risk you end up with a film so insubstantial it threatens to float away leaving nothing behind. Arvin Chen's Au Revoir, Taipei wants to be a charming little confection, the kind of matinee entertainment where nothing really bad ever happens and the audience remains glued to the screen from beginning to end, but despite some gorgeous production values and one or two moments of cinematic flair the whole is far too short and too scattershot to ever really gel.

The title refers to the lead, Kai (Jack Yao), a shiftless Taiwanese youth who's been half-heartedly pursuing a long-distance relationship with his girlfriend Faye, not long decamped to Paris. Kai dreams of visiting her, and spends long hours in a local bookstore teaching himself halting French while pretty clerk Susie (Amber Kuo) looks on, bemused.

The conflict originates when - predictably - Faye decides the relationship isn't working out and dumps Kai over the phone. Kai's certain he can change her mind if he just flies over there unannounced. What could possibly go wrong? He needs money for the plane ticket, so entreats ageing gang boss Bao for a handout, but has to agree to courier a package for the old man in return. Coincidentally, several people are after the contents - not only the police but also Bao's upstart nephew, desperate to prove he can be a hotshot gangster despite his uncle's reservations.

All this sounds hugely promising on paper. The first warning sign is Au Revoir Taipei clocks in at around eighty minutes and change before the credits roll. Not a problem if it were to hit the ground running, yet Arvin Chen does anything but. Things happen from the word go, certainly, but the actual ongoing chase sequence which gives the film its dramatic impetus doesn't start until at least half an hour in.

Which, again, wouldn't be such a bad thing were the film to use this time to its advantage. No luck here, either. The actual caper is nothing out of the ordinary, and hampered by the lightweight running time far too many of the cast are either threadbare, generic, unsympathetic or all three. Kai comes off as well-meaning, but bland and annoyingly naïve. His parents exist merely as set dressing. Bao is utterly undistinguished, an amalgam of every silver-haired small-time criminal who's ever dreamt of a place in the sun. Joseph Chang's rumpled cop is a self-centred ass.

Only Amber Kuo manages a performance that elevates the film in any sense; instantly likeable, she's the only character who consistently behaves like an actual human being and grabs the viewer's attention as a result. Her role is still tissue-thin, but the actress (prominent in TV dramas) manages to give Susie a liveliness and innate decency that makes it surprisingly easy to believe the young woman would so readily help a casual acquaintance out of trouble.

Admittedly Au Revoir Taipei is an attractive film; Chen clearly wanted to make a love letter to the city, and he arguably does a better job of this than of making a gentle riff on one last big score. He throws in numerous postcard shots, picks out recognisable landmarks and shoots everything in a warm, saturated glow that sits comfortably with the complete lack of any real peril.

The problem is none of this actually serves the narrative in any significant way. While the cinematography certainly makes Taipei look like an inviting destination, it doesn't really establish what it means to Kai, or even any of the supporting cast. Chen throws in one brief scene very near the end which is clearly meant to be the point at which Kai realises what he'll be missing out on, should he take that flight, but all it does is reiterate how much the rest of the film is lacking in this sort of small, precious character moment.

Au Revoir Taipei does briefly come alive in this way every now and then - people taking dancing lessons in a park late at night, Kai's dopy friend Gao playing mahjong with his kidnappers - but it feels like a ruthless TV edit of a longer film that's got rid of far too much in the process. Zhang Yibai's The Longest Night in Shanghai is undeniably overstuffed but though it isn't a caper the extra running time means it comfortably eclipses Au Revoir in just about every other respect. Or if you want a real love letter to Taipei, Hear Me practically drags you down to the travel agent to book a holiday.

Short needs an expert guiding hand, such as Johnny To's playful, breezy pickpocket adventure Sparrow. Arvin Chen simply doesn't seem like a good enough director to give something so pared down enough nuance and fine detail that it still lingers in the memory after it's over. It's worth watching - just - but it's hard to imagine ever wanting to come back to it.