
Born in 1966, he started working in theatre in his mid-twenties. After professional training at the National Institute of Arts, he participated in the Godot Theatre Company and Ping Fong Acting Troupe shows. A turning point then came in 1993 when he started to act onscreen, in advertisements, TV dramas, and films. He became known in particular as the star of art house movies directed by Lin Cheng-sheng (Sweet Degeneration, March of Happiness, Robinson’s Crusoe, Betelnut Beauty). Since then he has also notably appeared in Better Than Sex, a manga-inspired comedy, and Parking - which was selected for the Cannes Festival last year.
Deciding to take up another role, this time behind the camera, in 2001 he filmed his first short movie Two Summers, and one year later the feature Taipei Twenty Something. This career move helped to push him into a more international arena. The third directing experience of Leon Dai was with the film selected in competition at this year’s Alba Festival, No Puedo Vivir Sin Ti (Tawain, 2008) - a Spanish title meaning “I can’t leave without you”. Dai also participated in the script of the movie (a little-known fact is that he also writes modern poetry). No Puedo Vivir Sin Ti tells the story of a desperate man. Living in a precarious situation with his beloved seven-year-old daughter, he decides to register her for school so that she can have a better future. The film discusses Taiwanese bureaucracy, the way that “the system” can affect people’s lives and the prejudices held against poor people with a low level of education. It is significant that the film’s protagonist, Li Wuhsiung, belongs to the ethnic and linguistic Hakka minority in Taiwan. “Through my movie I just want to express my point of view: is this so- called ‘the major right is the right of the majority’ built on people’s actual rights?”, says Leon.
In order to tightly focus on the plot, based on real life events, Leon Dai decided to film No Puedo Vivir Sin Ti in black and white. As for the Spanish title, it has a cultural explanation: “Why must we use an English film title? I envy the Latin American Spanish style enthusiasm. They can directly express their emotions and feelings in a way that the Taiwanese can hardly do”, Dai affirms. In some of his jobs as a director, or even as an actor, Dai’s attraction to realism is evident. Scenes composed of long shots, almost without dialogues, give the viewer the impression of living in the character’s routine. The shoots have influences of Italian Neorealism and French New Wave, as well as of the Taiwanese new wave of the 80s. One can find a mixture between documentary and fictional languages in the low-budget productions Leon and other filmmakers from his country make. “I suspect that after losing commercial value to the films made in Hong Kong, Taiwanese movies could only get closer to documentary in order to express themselves”, he explains.
Leon Dai, someone who has been involved in and in love with cinema since his childhood, ends the interview for this portrait with an optimistic vision about Taiwanese films: “Taiwanese movies are just like a powerful ancient empire. They used to experience glory and then declined, but still exist. However they have infinite possibilities”. So let’s wait for the empire to strike back…
Estela Cotes