It’s an undeniable fact that with the establishment of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (SPCA) in England back in 1824, mankind has set themselves apart from their primitive counterparts where survival precedes compassion and affection.

More than that, it seems that mankind has found a huge source of humanity within animals themselves, and this is especially so for canines and felines.

While cats are known for their playfulness – be it in the company of their loved ones or themselves – dogs prove to be a strong breed of loyalists whose devotion transcends even death itself.

This observation has been immortalised on films, including Japanese movies such as “Hachiko Monogatari” (1978), of which it has subsequently been remade by Hollywood, and re-titled “Hachiko: A dog’s tale” (2009) (where actor Richard Gere taken on the lead role as the dog’s master).

There has been no lack of filmic successors since then, with titles such as “Kuiru” (better known in its English title as “Quill”) (2004), followed by “Helen the baby fox” (2006), “Hearty Paws” (2007), “Inu to Watashi no 10 no Yakasoku” (“10 promises to my dog”) (2008).

It is interesting to observe that other than the remake of “Hachiko Monogatari”, the rest of the film titles are of Japanese origin. While exact conclusions cannot be drawn, it can be somewhat surmised that the Japanese are among the most affectionate when it comes to rearing them or at least, in the portrayal of pets on celluloid.

Based on these observations, it will be interesting to delve further into the reasons why pets (especially dogs and cats) are being adored and loved by Asian movie-goers.

What is more interesting is that while Hollywood films seem to emphasise on comic heroes/heroines and CGI-intensive effects in recent years (often having the potential to rake in box-office earnings), Asian film-makers seems to take a different route – enticing their audiences through a more abstract form of art: expression of love itself, in this instance a love for pets. And considering the rave reviews for films of such genre, this formula seems to work.

Still from the movie ‘Quill’

So, what is so fascinating about pets?

Nothing is more irresistible than a cute cat curling itself up one’s legs in anticipation or in appreciation of a cuddle, or a feisty dog running across the beach – chasing after a ball thrown by his master. The bond between pet owners and dogs does not break easily.

In fact, the pet-master bonds are actually being strengthened over time, due to the lack of domestic squabbles and arguments commonly faced by human interaction.

A tendency of a pet master to initiate interaction and the proclivity of the pets to comply is another ingredient to further bonding, just like someone putting one foot in front of the other while walking.

The pet also gives comfort and solace to the pet owners while the latter receives love from the pet’s companionship. Giving and receiving thus becomes a dance of tango between the two.

While this technique may sound ridiculous and foolish (what with the increased focus on individualism in contemporary society), this may well be the key factor that glues and gels couples (and hence families and societies) together.

Maybe the reason why movie-goers flock to the cinemas in droves is because all if not most of them want to relieve this loving feeling of giving and receiving all over again.

And with the latest Japanese film “Wasao” (2011) hitting Singapore theaters soon, one should not be surprised to see this cinematic trend develop and grow in the near future.

After all, if Asians love pets in real life, how challenging is it to portray them in reel life, as they have done so for the past few years?

If only Hollywood had gone in this direction a few years ago, they might have one more genre to add to their existing belt of achievements – Pet Drama.

Few things are as soothing as a voice of a female radio DJ broadcasting through the air waves, her messages and thoughts resonating through the wee hours of the night.

It’s not so much the audience’s familiarity of the feminine voice that tugs at the heartstrings of these radio listeners in South Korea but rather, it’s what the female DJ says – night after night – that builds up this unique relationship between her listeners and herself.

Her words, while comforting and soft, soon become a mantra after repeated listening and her persona becomes authority. Indeed, the air wave goddess of the night requires no extra effort in hypnotising her audience through her well considered tracks and verbal afterthoughts in the nights where the subconscious supersedes the conscious.

What sets this female DJ Ko Seon-yeong (played by Soo-ae) apart from the rest of her counterparts is her masculine side – a single mum who becomes the father figure of her two daughters -with the help of her younger sister sidelining as a babysitter. When she decides to take a hiatus off work for personal reasons, she winds up not only bidding farewell to her listeners but possibly to her loved ones as well.

For cruising through the night is a psychopath Han Dong-soo (played by Yoo Ji-tae) who has been hanging on to her every word, and taking her messages for real.

Perfectionism is what bonds them together and when Seon-yeong speaks of leaving the air waves, Dong-soo seeks to turn the tables on Seon-yeong by challenging her perfectionism – where a single song played wrongly over the air waves (be it the wrong song, the wrong album or the wrong cover version) will result in a probable fatality of her loved ones.

Yoo Ji-tae shows his versatility as an actor as he transforms from a 40-year-old bachelor in the korean drama He who can’t marry (2009) to being a full-fledged psychopath who has decided to take on criminals as a vigilante of the night-  with his every move executed with deadly military precision.

While the hardened side of Seon-yeong is displayed overtly in the first half of the film, the shell that she encloses herself in will soon crack under the perfectionistic streak that Dong-soo will unleash on her and her loved ones in the second half.

Brutal and at times overbearing, the film seems to serve as an expose on the frailty of single parenthood, where the lack of a father figure often culminates in a somewhat dysfunctional family, and where the female figure is left to fend for themselves against society’s maladjusted and the misinformed.

It’s interesting that Midnight FM pays tribute to Taxi Driver (1976), the American film that speaks of street justice but unlike Taxi Driver, a film which portrays the anger and frustration of a Vietnam war veteran, Midnight FM speaks of urban retribution distorted in an unsound mind.

While the pace of the film is rather taut (especially towards the second half of the film), one can’t help but feel that Midnight FM might resonate better with an increased emotional tone rather than the typical action thriller that the film is made out to be.

Providing a stark contrast between the beautiful and the shady side of the night, Midnight FM gradually reveals the mystique of the night – where the lines between radio DJs and their listeners are blurred, where a media celebrity’s message are taken a tad too seriously and where the hunter eventually becomes the hunted.

Check out the sexy official website at www.carrotcakeconversations.com.

Watch this space as we get in more hot news as The Vintage Film Co. travels with other Singapore producers to the Marché du Film at Cannes in May.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8rN36Z_H9eE