I love these two. Tropical Malady There's this one shot at the beginning of Thai director Apichatpong Weerasethakul's masterfully sexy Cannes Jury Prize-winning film Tropical Malady that lives in my head rent-free. Here's the shot. The camera is still and focused on a naked man with a fat ass. The man (or maybe he's a ghost, it's hard to be sure with Weerasethakul) steps across a plain. The plain touches a forest's edge. This song plays. Nothing much happens, but the shot is paradoxical: it's bleak and lush, ominous and sweet, regretful and proud. It becomes a rubric for the next two hours, in which Weerasethakul tells two unique but parallel stories. The first is romantic and gay, and the second is mythical and ghostly.