IT'S CINEMA VERITE

Yet resilience shone through. This was the year Hong Kong fought back. Dwindling enthusiasm for local fare and an exodus of top talent to Hollywood had been body blows. The recession looked like it carried a knockout punch. Jackie Chan, was busy coining it in for Tinseltown's producers. Rush Hour, a chirpy cop caper with Chan as a Hong Kong detective called to the U.S. by a diplomat whose daughter has been kidnapped by triads, shot straight to the top of the U.S. charts. Compared with that, a martial-arts movie, adapted from a comic book, with a slight script and starring local pop singers might seem like the same old Hong Kong formula. But The StormRiders piled on special effects, adopted a big-budget sheen, and became the first home-grown "event" movie. It took in a record $600,000 on its opening day.

Beast Cops tried to woo viewers away from U.S. blockbusters by going small-scale to play up local roots. The feisty pic showed that Hong Kongers still like films that speak their language. A rambunctious story about three policemen blurring the line between gangsters and lawmen as they trail the triads, Beast Cops is a laddish jape, memorable for a cool comic turn from Anthony Wong. Tough times are the norm for Hong Kong art directors. Even in good times commercial fare squeezes them out. Yet the gifted Stanley Kwan made Hold You Tight for a major studio, pulled in the punters (not hindered by the presence of sex siren Chingmy Yau) and did it all with a gay-themed look at rootlessness and sexual insecurity. Bravo!

In recession-hit Japan there was still room for "migrant labor." In a year when visitors blundered, Frenchman Jean-Pierre Limosin made a film that could not be more Japanese. The setting, actors and dialogue in Tokyo Eyes are all local. Even Limosin's style and story blend seamlessly into the domestic indie scene. Disaffected and unable to connect, Takeda Shinji shoots people he thinks are too rude. He befriends a hairdresser's assistant - who lives with her detective brother. When she realizes that her new pal may be responsible for the murders she has been reading about, complications naturally arise. Limosin captures Tokyo's electric energy and keeps the audience guessing whether he is paying tribute to, or affectionately parodying, Tokyo's hyper-hip kids.

Kids who adore movies like April Story, a bittersweet college romance from Iwai Shunji, a former pop video director who divides critics. Visual poetry, sure, but often slender and pretentious to match. April Story may be overly sentimental at times, but it showcases the skill with which Iwai depicts youthful joys like first love and shows once again that no filmmaker can better connect with Asian teens.

What teens made of Pride, the Fateful Moment is less certain. A defense of Japan's conduct during World War II, Pride takes the gong for most controversial movie of the year. Set during the war-crimes trial of wartime prime minister Tojo Hideki, the film takes the line that offense is the best form of defense. What follows is three hours of vigorous whitewashing.In a long list of objectionable moments, the worst is the unpardonable assertion that the Rape of Nanjing was a mere misdemeanor. Through it all, Tojo, portrayed by Tsugawa Masahiko as a shiny-pated former boy scout-turned-doting grandpa, maintains an unflappable dignity while the prosecutors come across as mustache-twirling villains.

The flip side of the story comes from Japanese master Imamura Shohei. Kanzo Sensei makes no bones about lambasting the mentality of the imperial army in a story of a family doctor fighting a hopeless battle against a hepatitis epidemic during the war. The movie trips along at a jaunty pace, pleasingly at odds with its serious theme, until it reaches an immaculately handled, symbol-laden conclusion culminating with a mushroom cloud over Hiroshima. Imamura was unhappy with his 1997 Cannes prize winner, The Eel. Kanzo Sensei is the movie the 72-year-old wants to be remembered for.

Remembrances of a different kind are the basis for one of the year's best Japanese films. Afterlife tackles death from an offbeat angle. In a waiting room for Heaven, staff ask the just-departed to supply them with a favorite memory that they wish to live in for eternity. The reminiscences are the result of interviews carried out by the filmmakers and have a bizarre ring of truth to them - even the most mystical, such as the nostalgia of a man who felt blissfully happy during an otherwise uneventful tram ride. Director Kore-eda Hirokazu ensures the film is equally at peace and never strays into pretentiousness.