Holy shit, gang, I sure have watched a lot of movies recently. Not to mention, I've already started in on my novel and a new screenplay too! So productive! I head out for Japan on Monday (which I'll then update the blog, photos and stories incoming), so I'll just try and do a giant post here before I take off knowing that you're extra-famished for my words.
I'll do the non-class reviews and music stuff here first, just to get it out of the way. If you'd like, scroll down to find the longer reviews. Instead, for now, I'll give you the kinda-ramblings about non-assigned viewings.
Mallrats (1995, dir. Kevin Smith)
I have, like, the biggest crush on Kevin Smith. Sure, his movies may not be my absolute favorites of all time, but they're still pretty high up there; Mallrats is no exception. I can instantly relate to all the comic banter (except I'm not that into them), Stan Lee has a cameo, and there are plenty of Jay+Silent Bob shenanigans to keep everybody happy... yet I was finding myself slightly dissatisfied on my (I think) 4th time through this movie.
My first issue regards Jeremy London. Yeah, ok, he's the pretty-boy with a heart of gold in the film, and I absolutely respect that he needs to be in the film to make it work. However, I was wondering if he could possibly not be so nervous-sounding when he delivers his line. Seriously, it felt like he was just so afraid of forgetting his lines that he was whipping them out at a frantic pace reminiscent of one of those
shitty shows girls like. Second, the whole movie (save a few moments, and all of Jay+SB) features dialog written in a way that absolutely 0 people talk. I found the lack of realism a bit trying, and it even fell flat for me a few times. That being said, a friend posed the question to me that perhaps realism in a film like this isn't absolutely necessary, and I completely see that but it certainly lessened the experience for me.
Minor grips aside, I still love Kevin Smith's work and hold a special spot for Mallrats in my cold heart. I'll give it a:
What... like the back of a Volkswagen?/10
Clerks (1994, dir. Kevin Smith)
Watched with my girlfriend. Inspiring, wickedly funny, my favorite of his. I don't think there's anything else that needs to be said, is there?
I'm not even supposed to be here today/10
Demolition Man (1993, dir. Marco Brambilla)
There are 80's/90's action movies that are cheesy good, really good, awesomely bad, or just really terrible. Demolition Man is just really, really terrible. It manages to actually BORE the viewer for 90% of its 2 hour duration (are you kidding?), its view of the future is fatally annoying, and Wesley Snipes pre-Blade was apparently the worst actor ever. The cast is oddly pretty jampacked with knowns, I mean even Jack Black has a cameo, but Jesus...
Hi, skip this movie./10
Ultra fast reviews:
Inside Deep Throat - People who do porn are weird, sure, but the documentary doesn't quite get it right. Still interesting if there's nothing on/10
Cloverfield - It's in my top 10, and though it may not be as intelligent as Godzilla, it's still really fun/10
3 Iron
3-Iron, a 2004 Korean film directed by Kim Ki-duk, may be one of the most puzzling and interesting films we’ve watched all term in our Asian Fantastical Cinema course this summer. Perhaps it’s due to the excellent camerawork or the storyline, but something about 3-Iron had me completely absorbed the entire time.
Tae-suk, our protagonist if you can call him that, spends his days breaking into houses of people who have gone on vacation, living in their shoes for a little while. First, I thought this was a clever little way for a man to go about life; he does not really disturb but rather fixes things with wherever he breaks in, usually does the laundry, and tidies up before he leaves. In a way, I was reminded o f the concept explained in The Host called seo-ri, although I’m not sure whether Tae-suk actually needs to commit these soft-crimes. His conduct raises an interesting question about how mad the tenants of the houses should really be. Sure, one man comes home and hits Tae-suk numerous times for breaking into his house, but they never steal anything (much to his wife’s surprise). Instead, it’s as if Tae-suk is just squatting in a house while they’re gone, and he leaves when they return having harmed no one.
Perhaps the most intriguing portion here is the love story between Tae-Suk and a married woman named Sun-Wha, who lived in one of the houses he broke into. Sun-Wha’s husband is both abusive and pathetically weak at the same time, beating her one moment and apologizing profusely the next so it’s no wonder that Tae-Suk presents a kind of exotic escape from a life that seems to hold no value any longer. The two embark on an enthralling silent journey together, comforting one another when it is needed, and sharing warm moments in other people’s apartments. This is the key to making the film work, and it’s executed beautifully by Kim Ki-duk, assuming silent film qualities in order to convey affection and change in character not by dialogue but rather by subtle actions of the two lead roles. Indeed, it seems to argue that things are much better left unsaid, as the husband’s ramblings annoy the viewer to the point where we begin to vastly prefer those silent moments of intimacy.
However, I found the most joy in this film in the camera work; as Tae-Suk learns to become a ghost in jail, so too does the camera adopt a personality all of its own. Sure, the rest of the film’s sequences are well composed and interesting, the colors are stunning, and the locations superb, but the real gem here is the transition from a camera that sits back and shows all to one that is being tricked by the film’s protagonist in some lovely 4th Wall breaching. Compound this with an endquote that brings into question the entire film itself, and we’re left wondering whether Sun-Wha has constructed this character (and effectively fooled the audience) in order to cope with her terrible home life, or if there really is a Tae-Suk. Though perhaps farfetched, it is interesting to think about.
3-Iron may just have earned my top spot for this semester’s films; combining romantic melodrama with strange ghostly sequences makes it a pleasure not only to view but to also ponder on after finishing it. Unfortunately, the slow pace and dominating silence would make this movie harder to market here in the U.S., but maybe that’s a good thing.
Blurry lines of reality/10
Citizen Dog
Citizen Dog follows a young man named Pod who moves from the Thai country to the big city in order to start a new life for himself. He prefers the fast paced lifestyle offered by Bangkok to the slow motion pace at which country life moves, and is especially fond of a maid named Jin. However, as the film progresses, it moves away from these simple storylines and evolves into something too big to fit into a realistic film. Instead, director Wisit Sasanatieng takes us on fantastical comedic journey through love, loss, and making one’s own way in life.
From the very beginning, I knew I was going to like Citizen. The film’s intro song, played by a band shown in the end, is sung by the supporting cast as well as extras as they turn to the camera and look directly at the audience while mouthing the words. This hilarious way of opening a movie was perfect in that it allowed the viewer to see just how crazy this could get. What follows is a smorgasbord of beautiful color palettes, a deceased motorcycle cab driver who turns out to be quite wise, and a love story unlike any other. I certainly felt the fantastical nature of the film really helped to lighten the mood, since Pod and Jin’s story could have easily been portrayed as an angsty teen drama. Instead, we’re given a giant mountain of plastic bottles, a little girl who thinks she’s 20, and a man who licks everything he sees. To be honest, I’m not quite sure why Sasanatieng decided on including all these little vignettes to break up the main narrative, but I was glad he did. The Pod/Jin relationship began to grow rather tiresome if we spent too much time with them, and these breaks were welcome.
One of the main points of Citizen Dog, Bangkok citizens having tails, was at first puzzling to me. It seemed that only special citizens like celebrities had tails, giving their social status that much more of a boost. However, when Pod returns to the city, it turns out everyone has a tail except him, and suddenly those without tails were desired and sought after. Of course, this could be a comment on the loss of individuality upon moving to such a big anonymous environment, but I took it more to show the fickle nature of the people when it comes to what is in style or popular. Since only a select few have tails, everyone wants one but when everyone finally gets their own, they no longer want it. This, to me, was a way of saying that the power of desire is much greater than that of satisfaction. It is much better to want something than it is to have it, which could only lead to disappointment. However, this is countered by Pod’s desire to be with Jin, who remains content upon finally winning her over. Perhaps this indicates that finally obtaining true happiness is a lasting feeling, as opposed to superficial “celebrity” items.
Perhaps the most interesting feature of Citizen Dog is the fact that it exists. I’ve only ever encountered Thai cinema when watching either the amazing Ong Bak films or seeing horror produced in the country, so to find such a quirky drama being produced in the country adds some excitement to the prospect of more Asian films being imported to the United States. Citizen shows that directors we may not encounter in daily life here in the west have more than enough to offer us, and can execute a piece of surrealist cinema as well as the next guy. What we should be taking from Citizen Dog is that it is not merely a fun romantic film, but also a message showing that Hollywood isn’t the end-all be-all of melodramatic cinema in the new century.
In any case, this film was simply a delight to watch and features something for just about everyone. Whether you enjoy a good laugh, a classic story of a boy falling hard for the girl next door (or down the hall vacuuming, in this case), or want something a bit abstract, Citizen Dog has it. It’s exciting to think what Thailand might come up with next.
I think I'll name my first kid Pod/10
Sukiyaki Western Django
Sukiyaki Western Django is a strange, almost surreal trip through Western-style Japan that combines both Spaghetti Western with Samurai and Japanese folklore. What results in a very special, oddball semi-comedy that keeps you entertained until the very last drop of blood spills from the Genji and Heike combatants.
The “Django” is derived from an old Spaghetti Western movie wherein a lone ranger type of character drags a coffin everywhere he goes. Rather than emphasize the dust, the director chose to use mud as if to subvert the Western genre and change it to more signify his uniqueness. This can also be found in Sukiyaki where a powerful weapon is also contained in a coffin and the ground is dark and muddy. However, unlike Django, Sukiyaki Western Django is written and acted out entirely in English, all Japanese actors speaking in the best accent they can muster. This creates a sometimes-funny, sometimes-sad atmosphere due to the unintentionally poor pronunciation or emphasis on odd parts of the sentence that give Sukiyaki a wacky feel at times when it should (maybe) be intending to be serious. However, the absolute worst performance of the entire film is given by guest-actor Quintin Tarantino, whose “Japanese” accent is just about the worst thing I’ve ever heard on film.
Yet beneath the goofy dialogue is a story about two sides who simply cannot coexist, and this motif certainly has many similarities with world conflicts of today. I can easily draw a parallel to North and South Korea, or the Israel/Palestine conflict that have two warring factions who simply refuse to get along, both the deaths in Sukiyaki as well as in the real world are both avoidable and tragic. This film also deals in greed, and the hold it can have over people, by adding in a gold rush element to the plot (moving back towards the Western theme) to give the two sides something to fight about other than gambling (as they do in Yojimbo).
All things considered, Sukiyaki Western Django is a well executed and visually stunning adaptation of Western genre stylings into Japanese traditional storytelling. As mentioned before, the acting can be a bit trying at times, feeling almost too forced when the audience really needs to be convinced. The action of the film, perhaps one of the main draws, is interesting enough and combines both sword and gunplay well, convincingly showing that the hybrid of the two can indeed work. That being said, the pacing of the film can be very laborious for the viewer, becoming rather dull at times and making the final battles less satisfying due to an uninteresting lead up. If I were to have to make a decision, I think I might go with The Good, The Bad, and The Weird over Sukiyaki for sheer entertainment factor, although there’s more behind Sukiyaki Western Django.
The fascination with cowboys has always eluded me personally, but there’s certainly enough global fanaticism about the culture that spawns interesting and fresh takes on the tried and true genre. It’s certainly interesting to explore films like this one, and who better to do it than Miike Takashi? The man is responsible for some of my most favorite Japanese films, but Sukiyaki Western Django might be rather low on the list. Don’t get me wrong, it’s certainly a lot of fun to watch and a well put together movie, but this wouldn’t be a film I’d recommend to someone new to Japanese cinema. If you want something to remind you why you like Westerns, however, this is your movie.
Not as good as other Westerns, but still ok/10
Green Snake
Green Snake is a 1993 Hong Kong film, directed by Hark Tsui, about 2 snakes that turn into women in order to assimilate into the human world based on an old Chinese folk tale called “Legend of the White Snake”. This proves difficult for them, and the two see just how hard it is for an “Evil” to make way among men, bringing in questions about love, feeling, and the grey area a world full of morality simply cannot escape.
A Buddhist Monk named Fahai opens the story watching over demonic looking mutants having a fistfight. To me, Fahai is perhaps the main point of interest in Snake, as his behavior is perhaps the clearest meaning behind the film. Fahai believes that morality is an easy thing to learn, dedicating himself to eradicating evil in the outside world. However, not only does he wrongly imprison a spider simply because it is a spider, but he also struggles with lust and other Evils within himself that he cannot rid himself of. Also, when the two Snakes decide to attempt and choose a mate in the human world, Fahai sees this as a terrible sin and means to kill White Snake for her breach of code. What Tsui is saying here, counter to the often-used melodramatic style of film, is that morality is hard to define and there is no clear-cut division between good and evil; it’s more shades of grey than anything else.
The two Snakes who oppose Fahai, White and Green, struggle with finding emotion and being able to incorporate human characteristics into their snake form. While White has trained for 500 more years and is able to control her transformation enough to seduce a young scholar, Green cannot seem to find happiness in becoming human. Instead, she prefers to eat bugs and slither around their house, free of human sufferings and emotion. It is only when Green must save White’s husband instead of White herself that Green is able to find tears in her eyes, and she truly begins to understand feeling. Perhaps this is an indication that the writer or director feels that, though we may attempt to discard our more hurtful side, the pain we feel is what makes us human and is an entirely necessary part of life.
To be completely honest, I don’t think Green Snake was a very good movie. The pacing is incredibly slow, the end dragging on for an almost unbearable amount of time, and the rest of the film moving along fairly slowly (though luckily broken up with some humorous moments). A lot of the action scenes had me wondering what was going on, and whether or not I should be laughing at how ridiculous it all was (especially the “dragon” Fahai summons). The shortcomings of the writing and acting do detract from the overall viewing experience, holding back some of the more delightful sequences filled with wonderful color and set design which I felt was almost wasted here.
Hark Tsui may have put together a movie for a domestic audience, as I can’t see anything that would appeal to a greater international market, but luckily for our class there were enough little nuggets of meaning to keep me searching throughout its hour and a half length. It was certainly fun to see Maggie Cheung in a pre-Hero acting role, but was unfortunately not enough to save this bizarre film from falling rather flat during Monday’s session.
There's no picture, how good could it be?/10
2046
2046, directed by Won Kar Wai, manages to be both a period drama as well as a futuristic love story about a Japanese man and an Android. What lies beneath Mr. Chow’s tales of love and lust in the future is really secrets to his past and a way in which he, played by Tony Leung, can learn and copes with the realities of his person. Of course, this proves to be much more difficult than he first planned, and what unfolds is an enthralling drama that both echoes and surpasses Kar Wai’s Chungking Express.
There is an old writer’s idiom that says, “Write what you know.” Chow Mo-wan spends his days doing just that, coming up with raunchy stories for a Hong Kong newspaper and creating his big-hit tale dubbed “2046” which also is the film’s title. 2046 is actually the room number which Chow lives next door to, and a room that houses 3 separate women which he falls for, each in turn. These women fill his stories, becoming androids with which one must never fall in love with since they cannot reciprocate due to a design flaw. Of course, Chow and the Japanese character he invents to represent himself end up falling for the androids/women next door anyway leading to complications and, ultimately, heartbreak. The film wonderfully cuts between what’s “actually happening” and a depiction of the stories he writes, giving us the current events and the way in which Chow spins them for the newspaper. It turns out that these sequences are when the audience is finally able to get inside Chow’s head and figure out just how much he starts to care for these women, since in “real life” he wears a playboy’s smile, maintaining his suave demeanor.
Perhaps more intriguing than the way in which 2046 mixes fact and fiction is how it blurs the line between the two when not involved in the fictional newspaper stories, but instead making the audience question the truth of scenes in China itself. Sure, it’s fairly simple to make the division between this fake-future and the 1960’s Hong Kong footage, but then what’s really happening in the film’s “reality?” The 3 women with which Chow eventually becomes near-obsessed with dress in eerily similar ways, wearing their hair up in a hairdo that could just be fashion of the time or something other than coincidence, and the ladies often wear black gloves and rings that looked to me to be the same. Does this mean that Chow isn’t actually dating any of these women, and simply fabricating another story for the viewer? It’s entirely possible, since the film’s narrator is Chow Mo-wan himself, leaving him free to lie in something similar to Suzhou River. I would venture that these could certainly be a fabrication, and the similarities between the two films feel too definite.
Won Kar Wai’s camera utilizes space expertly, and 2046 features some outstanding use of iris to focus the audience on something, while keeping from us other things that one might normally have seen. After finishing the movie, I realized that Won Kar Wai chose not to show any long or establishing shots the entire film, leaving the only views of Hong Kong to Chow’s newspaper story’s alternate future. Again, it feels as though this could be completely fake, since (for example) we have absolutely no way of knowing whether Chow actually even visits a casino in Singapore. The only outdoors scenes are high tilt shots of the main characters smoking on the rooftop of the hotel building they inhabit, and even then, the angle is such that we can only see the sky and not the streets below. It feels very closed in, and even claustrophobic, giving 2046 a more personal character-driven direction and perhaps Won Kar Wai feels the location is unimportant or even irrelevant to the tale he’s telling.
It’s safe to say that Won Kar Wai is shaping up to be one of my favorite directors especially having seen 2046. Granted, I’ve only watched 2 of his films to date, yet it is no stretch that I’ll be looking out for his other productions once this Asian Fantastical Cinema course is over. This film miraculously pulls together multiple storylines with a personal and emotional feel, makes excellent use of color, and has a cast that couldn’t help but to deliver good performances. If you haven’t already witnessed it, 2046 isn’t a movie you can afford to miss.
Just really good/10
