Yi Yi Part 13: The Unique Genius
After a few major, important segments of the film, Edward Yang now relaxes a bit and gives us some connective tissue and amusement. The segment begins with Yang-Yang in class, all of this fellow students napping at their desks. This is apparently common practice in Taiwanese elementary schools and while I admire the embrace of napping at this point in my life, when I was five years old, my Kindergarten teacher nearly held me back because I refused to take naps … even though I already knew how to read.
So when Yang-Yang skips out of class and runs to a photo store to pick up some developed shots and some more film for his camera, I understand and admire his impulses. The shots of him running to and from school are funny and beautifully composed. At one point we see Yang-Yang being captured in a series of closed-circuit security cameras that no one seems to be observing.
He finally arrives on the school grounds, but this triggers a bunch of older girls setting off in pursuit and finally surrounding him. This continues the theme from the opening scenes of the film, where girls are menacing and always bigger than Yang-Yang. Having an older sister will do that to a boy.
We next see him in a classroom, a bunch of those girls around again, but it’s the teacher center stage this time, mercilessly mocking him. He looks through Yang-Yang’s photos, which seem to be random shots of nothing in particularly, and makes fun of them as being “avant-garde art” and declares to the girls that they have a “unique genius” in their midst.
He tries to intimidate Yang-Yang, who responds with silent stoicism. This leads the teacher to ask Yang-Yang is afraid that he’s going to call his father. Yang-Yang returns a priceless cold stare, which only makes the teacher madder — he now demands he stand against the wall, the back of his head now exposed to the classroom.
Picking up on the theory from earlier, if Yang-Yang is displaying his soul by having his back to the camera, what he’s showing us is a little boy who is utterly fearless and rather disinterested in the opinions of authority.