AMAYA

Amaya - meaning "night rain" in Japanese. Such a monotonous, fine, seemingly never-ending theme of rain runs through the entire film. Hong Kong seems perpetually wrapped in mist and the grey gloom of an overcast sky.

This evening we watched it, and now I recommend it to you too. While watching the film "Amaya," one's feelings can be loosely divided into three parts: at first an extraordinarily realistic portrayal of the environment and human relationships, an outlining of the plot and characters; then the subtle, almost imperceptible yet symbolic details characteristic of Eastern culture - rain outside the window reflected in Amaya's face like ceaseless tears, the ticking of a clock that dispassionately counts the moments of a human life, wind chimes set in motion this time by a fan rather than the free mountain wind, and so on; and finally the emotions and feelings - a poignant sense of doom, sadness, satisfaction, pain and love.

A film which, despite several amusing and humour-filled episodes, does not leave the impression of entertainment cinema, but rather makes one think, makes one see oneself and one's fellow human beings in the film's characters. One even feels afraid at how much significance even the most seemingly trivial CHOICE can have in life - for example, between calling to order a massage service to one's hotel room, or calling to sign up for a massage course oneself. The choice to speak aloud or to stay silent; the choice to adapt or to hold one's ground; the choice to stay or to leave - and so countless choices at every step. Which is the right one, which is the fateful one, and which leads nowhere?

And how painfully, carried as a weight on the chest for an entire lifetime, are the WORDS UNSAID in time. Whether they be "Stay!", "I'm leaving," "I love you," "I forgive you," "Forgive me" - no matter what language each person speaks, in a fulfilling relationship they are extraordinarily important.

More about the film and its creators - http://www.facebook.com/amaya.filma