Wayne Wang's 'Diary of a Mad Old Man' Falls Flat in Its Attempt to Reimagine Tanizaki

From Perverse to Plodding

When I first heard about Wayne Wang's latest effort, Diary of a Mad Old Man, I couldn't help but feel a thrill. The premise was a tantalizing one: an elderly stroke victim lusting after his daughter-in-law, a scenario that promised to be as unsettling as it was provocative. But as I sat through the film's 119 minutes, that thrill turned into something more akin to a yawn. What should have been a sharp, biting critique of aging and desire ends up as a slow-burn bore.

"The old man isn't an end-of-life patient with nothing to lose finally fully acting on his desires, but instead suffering from late-stage dementia."

What I discovered was a film that, despite its attempts to refresh the source material, fails to capture the original's scathing edge. In the hands of Tanizaki, Diary of a Mad Old Man is a biting satire of moral decay and human hypocrisy — not unlike the works of the great black comedians of Japanese literature. But Wang's adaptation, while visually striking and technically competent, softens the narrative in ways that feel both unnecessary and ultimately unconvincing.

A Tale of Two Aging Men

At its core, this is a story about Utsugi, a post-stroke retiree who, despite his physical limitations, remains obsessed with his daughter-in-law Satsuko. In Tanizaki's version, Utsugi is an unapologetic sociopath — a man who knows exactly what he wants and isn't shy about expressing it. His cold-hearted narration makes him both repulsive and compelling, and it's precisely this tension that makes the novel so unsettling.

Wang, however, has opted for a softer approach. He presents Utsugi not as a morally bankrupt figure but as a confused, almost pitiable man suffering from dementia. While this may seem like a compassionate choice, it ultimately strips away much of the story's emotional weight. We're left watching a character who's more tragic than threatening — which is to say, he's less interesting than he should be.

Visuals and Performances

Visually, Wang has clearly done his homework. The film is set in a meticulously crafted world of interiors — a house with its own garden, an upscale bar that feels like a world away from the rest of Tokyo. It's a world that feels lived-in and authentic, and it's one of the film's few genuine strengths.

Lily Franky gives a compelling performance as Utsugi, bringing depth to a character who could have easily become a caricature. His portrayal is nuanced, especially in scenes where he's physically confined but mentally active. But even Franky can't save a script that doesn't give him much to work with. His performance is admirable, but it's not enough to lift the film from mediocrity.

Fan Bingbing, on the other hand, brings her usual star power to Satsuko, a character who's reimagined as more complex and emotionally grounded than in the novel. But her performance lacks the edge that might have made her character compelling in a story where she's both victim and potential perpetrator. The film fails to fully explore the emotional dynamics between these characters, leaving us with a surface-level treatment of what could have been a fascinating psychological drama.

What Was Lost in Translation?

The real disappointment comes in how Wang and screenwriter Kelvin Wyles have handled the novel's core themes. Tanizaki's Utsugi is a man who doesn't care about the consequences of his actions — he simply acts on impulse, and it's this lack of moral constraint that makes him so terrifyingly honest.

But in Wang's version, Utsugi becomes a man caught between two worlds: the past, where he was powerful and controlling, and the present, where he's vulnerable and confused. This new framing does little to elevate the story — instead, it dulls its sharp edges. The film tries to add emotional depth, but in doing so, it loses the brutal honesty that made Tanizaki's work so provocative.

Wang also makes a curious choice to shift the narrative tone toward more sentimental and introspective moments — think Ozu-lite contemplations of death and long-take crying. While these scenes are well-crafted, they feel out of place in a story that should be pushing boundaries rather than pulling back.

Is This the Future of Cinema?

Ultimately, Diary of a Mad Old Man feels like a missed opportunity. In an era where filmmakers are increasingly exploring themes around aging and dementia, it's understandable that Wang wants to take this approach. But he doesn't quite succeed in making the story relevant to today's audiences — instead, he rehashes the same tired tropes under the guise of modernization.

It's a film that plays it safe, but in doing so, it fails to be bold or daring. If you're looking for something that challenges the status quo, you're better off turning to the original novel — which still stands as a powerful critique of human nature and societal norms. This adaptation, unfortunately, lacks the fire and fury of its source material.

Final Verdict

Wayne Wang's Diary of a Mad Old Man is a visually rich but emotionally flat experience. It's an ambitious attempt to update a classic, but one that ultimately fails to capture the dark genius of Tanizaki's work. For all its production value and star power, it remains disappointingly tame — and unintentionally boring.