[Japanese Film Festival] Mime-Mime

World At Her Feet

So far we've been treated to 35mm prints of classics filmed the traditional way, but advances in camera technology means we'll begin to see a proliferation of consumer grade handheld DV cameras being used to make feature films of reasonable quality. Mime-Mime is one such film where writer-director Yukiko Sode has a story to get off her chest, so why not do so given the means readily available?

Mime-Mime opens with the audience staring at a bobbing female head. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on when she emerges after a while, wet around her mouth. Then it's the post-coitus smoke where we see Makato (Niijima Ayaco) in the room of her high school teacher, much to the disgust of visiting female students when they see the lovers in positions enough to suggest what's going on behind closed doors.

As with the theme of Youth this year, Mime-Mime follows the confused ordeals of an indifferently cool teenage girl who can't hold down a permanent job, and like most young adults, are finding and groping around their way in the dark to try and discover their calling. Meanwhile, Makato has to satisfy her desires, and so explains her weekly counselling and release sessions with her high-school teacher-lover, who's obviously in it as a no-strings attached F-buddy. Makato lives in a messy bachelorette pad, is disorganized and frankly living a very lonely and emotionally empty urban lifestyle where getting trashed in a pub is the best she could do. She has no objectives in life and is emotionally unstable, so it does get a wee bit difficult to try and identify with her predicament since she hardly takes any positive steps forward.

But the film is not about the constant moping and whining Makato finds herself in, even though her exterior can hardly betray what she's running away from, but just not aware yet. It's about breaking out of our boxed shells, and for Makato it's from the lifestyle she's most comfortable with, to in her own words, wanting to lead a decent life from a life of decadence thus far. The most symbolic gesture she will ultimately do, will be to break her own taboo of cutting the hair of friends and acquaintances, and to do so on her own. Trust me I know of folks who do that, where it's akin to a vow of trying to get themselves into a new life, a breakaway from troubles created by and to disassociate with the old facade, and to give themselves an opportunity to start afresh.

And the journey to achieve that comes with enough drama and comedy, courtesy of a series of events such as her mom remarrying, and various testy relationships blowing both hot and cold. The one major impact will be her childhood friend Nakaji coming back into her life, for some reason ended up being her roommate, and a budding romance that seems to be more platonic as he helps to provide that pillar of strength and geeky courage to encourage her to move forward rather than to be stuck in a rut, and best of all his intention of bringing her out for camping, is one of those quirky ideas that will elicit some comedic disbelief into his level of geekiness. The other highlight would be the dreadfully awkward conversions around the dinner table early in the film, and amongst all films that have dinner table conversations, this one stood out amongst the best.

It was the wonderful contemporary soundtrack that kept this film from sinking into pessimism and the drone of negativity (I for one am hardly a fan of such a mood), with some nice cinematographic moments that I'd thought would have looked absolutely gorgeous if captured on traditional 35mm film.

[Japanese Film Festival] Directions - NDJC 2007

This weekend's installment consists of another section that the Festival is focusing on in alignment with its theme of Youth, and that's the New Directions in Japanese Cinema, selecting short films that are part of the yearly 5 shorts output under VIPO (Visual Industry Promotion Organization) where film-making skills are imparted to young creative talents, and they're put through the paces to make 30 minute films on 35mm. The goal of course is to discover the next generation of Japanese feature film directors, and looking at the varied works of what's in store, you'd never know if one of them will make the jump to the feature real soon. Today's session is taken from the 2007 graduates, and tomorrow's will be from the 2008 batch.

A Bus To Heaven
Amongst all the shorts today, this remained my firm favourite, perhaps because I have a soft spot for romantic tales. We see two friends Yuzo and Tora celebrating the former's birthday in a restaurant, although it was supposed to be Yuzo celebrating with his girlfriend Miki, if not for an argument arising from Armageddon (Bruce Virus and Liv Lighter, ha!) - another reference to this Michael Bay film from the Festival selection - and the discovery that Miki is actually a hostess aspiring to be an actress. Yuzo is unable to accept this deception and her choice of a career, hence their separation.

The second act takes place on a "party bus", so deemed by Tora as a birthday gift to Yuzo because it is the public bus ride from Shibuya via Roppongi to Shinbashi that is packed with hostesses seated at the back of the bus, and Tora being prepared to let out the secret of his picking up of women that involves being the livewire in a makeshift party atmosphere onboard. I really wonder if this can happen in Singapore! It is through this act that we see how Yuzo has his mind broadened, that we should not judge a person by their occupation - it's still an honest means of living, and they are human too with dreams of their own.

The last part is of course having everything pan out as intended, focused on reconciliation and frankly, here's where the saccharine sweet moments come in when a man with his mind open can start to humble himself and take the initiative to pursue his path to happiness, with a little help from the outside from friends who care, and bother to make things happen. Comes complete with generous doses of comedy!


Good Bye, George Adamski
And yet we begin the film set in another bus! We see a man with a pacemaker at the priority seat creating a scene with every passenger who sits beside him and whipping out their mobile phone. In what would be a case of serendipity, this man Sadayuki, turns out to be the childhood friend of Haruo, whom Sadayuki had chased away from the seat earlier. We then learn from Haruo's flashback about Sadayuki back during their school days, where the latter was obsessed with UFOs, and tragedy struck him when they were en route to a forested mountaintop.

Now having to bump into Haruo again, Sadayuki managed to convince Haruo into following him to meet up with Nagasawa the UFOlogist, and that forms the basis of this story about friendship, and how no matter how crazy it may be or sound, friends when we bump into each other, almost always continue where we last left off. Some light comedy found itself through to the delusions of Sadayuki who adamantly believes he and his friends have been inserted by alien microchips, as well as his perverted pranks played on unsuspecting females by the lifting of their skirts, which will prove to be his downfall.

It's a little bittersweet because as a friend, you do no know whether to walk away from someone who behaves so irrationally, or to stick to him thin and thick because after all, that's what friends are for.


Seismic Girl
If delusional characters aren't enough in the previous film, then Seismic Girl will more than compensate that for you. Here, Mitsuko brandishes a knife from he onset, and we here her state her fears of having Satoshi to pursue his earthquake research dream in the USA, because his ex-girlfriend Yuri will be in tow as a fellow roommate. I suppose it boils down to trust, though understandably for someone like Mitsuko, she fears the threat posed by Yuri, who comes from a pedigree family.

Hearing about the legend of the Catfish Stone, said to have prevented earthquakes from being felt in the town of Miyama, Mitsuko makes plans to get rid of this stone because if quakes existed in their town, then her boyfriend will find no reason to go overseas since they happen at their doorstep. This leads to a catfight between two women out to ensure that their beloved man chooses them over the other, and what happens in the end seemed like a karmic wheel of transformation because one has defiled an artifact out of sheer frustration. Moral of the story - never step on two boats with one leg.


Babin
This is perhaps the most ambitious short of the lot presented today, consisting of only 1 leading actor and 2 support ones, in what would be an unconventional tale told in a fairly abstract fashion that dwells on the notion of what if a plant or tree, being living things, can talk, and what they will feel about and talk about on a daily basis. We see a man in a hole in the ground, but this man is no man, and his monologue is not about escape, but rather an observation on the things that he saw while being rooted to the ground. It's a talking, singing man-plant, specimen 4923!

It's almost as if it's a one man monologue throughout if not for a little boy who comes round to play with whatever's available, symbolizing how the young can embrace nature, and an older man who is the tree doctor, ensuring all tree samplings have the opportunity to grow big and strong... unless Nature has other plans such as the threat of a lighting strike. It's a nature story, and it is to the actor's credit that he is able to keep us engaged with his tree-like antics.

Restaurant UFO
This is my second favourite short this morning, set in a town famous for its UFO sightings, so much so that all businesses will declare a 50% off on days when a UFO is sighted. But of course the story tells more of this, and at one point talks about its low birthrates, as all the girls in the town are moving to the bigger cities for a chance at better opportunities in life. Schoolgirl Yu also harbours the same hopes, and is contemplating delivering newspapers to get a scholarship to enter a university in Tokyo.

But of course this migration will mean to leave her dad's restaurant, much to her dad's displeasure. We see how Yu is a critical resource to his business since her mom had walked out on them for another man. And we know how busy business can be when UFO sightings are reported and the business has to honour its discounts, made worse when unscrupulous business people take advantage of such clauses to help boost sales when more people hit the shops to enjoy up to 50% off. Talk about exploitation, and the calling in of fake sightings.

For a film that's 30 minutes long, it sure packed a couple of subplots, including Yu's conversations with Takeshi, a boy who had chosen to abandon Tokyo to return home to help out in his dad's business, as well as the reappearance of Yu's mom to seek her family's forgiveness. In some ways the film talks about how any youth will want to take advantage of their natural desire to want to seek flight from home to journey the world in search of their oyster, and yet how at the end there is almost always no place like home. It's incredibly moving toward the end even though it started off with a quirky premise, and has its beautiful snowing landscape at one point to thank for that made this film a beauty to look at.

[Japanese Film Festival] Bare Essence of Life Ultra-Miracle Love Story (Urutora Mirakuru Rabu Sutôrî)

Deep Breath

As festival director Gavin Liu mentioned, the selection thus far and for films to come are from directors who are either starting out with their rookie feature film effort, or into their second film. I suppose this clearly ties in with the theme of Youth as well, and not to mention that Bare Essence of Life stars one of teenage fandom's most versatile actors Ken'ichi Matsumaya. After all, he starred in the very popular Death Note series, as well as its spin off L: Change The World, and I believe his films thus far had always been relatively successful at the box office in Singapore, which accounted for the full house in today's screening.

But this film isn't the usual popcorn blockbuster that we normally associate Ken'ichi Matsumaya with, and through his performance here my respect for his spectrum of emotions got bumped up a notch. Ken'ichi plays Yojin, an eccentric organic farmer boy who stays with his grandmother and picked up his green thumbing skills through taped recordings of his grandfather, to varying degrees of success. If there was any movie character seen this year that exhibited similar behavioural traits, then it will be Shah Rukh Khan's Rizwan who suffers from Asperger's Disease. Yojin is equally impulsive, and possess this man-child quality that only Ken'ichi can make it both equally irritable, and lovable at the same time.

He's the ultimate unpredictable live-wire, and can invoke a vege-war should his ego be bruised. Being very popular with children especially when they play at his exasperated expense, Yojin's very routine nine to five life got disrupted by the introduction of a new kindergarten teacher Michiko (Kumiko Aso) into their town of Aomori. Yoji's heart stirs for Michiko, who had escaped from Tokyo to start life afresh, since her fiance and his secret lover had died in a fatal car accident, with the former having his head sliced off an never found. Talk about the bizzare that will be more bizzare as the tale gone on.

But not before seemingly looking like an against the odds romance story with two individuals brought together with the promise of a big scaled Potato Festival, having to spend quality time through their walks home, with one being infatuated with the other, and the other being nonchalant about the affections shown. A major incident then happens involving being buried in soil and sprayed with pesticide, where Yojin changes and becomes a more serious man with only traces of his child like demeanour left. The supporting characters of the limping principal, a psychic consultant and her gossipy grandchildren, Yojin's grandma and the doctor he frequents who has an estranged son, all make for small distractions from what's to come eventually.

I can't quite put my finger on the intent of the message in this film, nor the themes it wanted to touch on since the last hour became totally surreal and fantastical, and had this ominous air to it yet laced with a tinge of light black comedy. Yojin fuels his change with continued dousing of home-made pesticide which he believes will make him more normal for continued acceptance by Michiko, and seriously I wonder the lengths anyone would go to induce change just to be with somebody.

But that's not all. We see Yojin's interaction with a walking dead man (Arata from Air Doll, unrecognizable without his head). Then Yojin suffers from intense vomiting before turning into a walking zombie (no, it's not of the George A Romero variety that craves human flesh), and I thought it tried to talk about the evolution of life, since Yojin had broached the topic of evolution and the necessity for change if he was to continue in his relentless pursuit of his lady love.

But the final shot is the one that took the cake, involving the consumption of brain matter! It's insanely outrageous and will likely make you squirm from the morbidity of it all, even if the prop looked more plasticky-jello like and doused with generous doses of strawberry to make it more palatable. The tired mind of mine preferred to call it quits then and fully agree that it's indeed an Ultra-Miracle Love Story alright, written and directed by Satoko Yokohama.

[Japanese Film Festival] Water Flower (Mizu No Hana)

Lonely

For some reason unexplained the thought of Yasmin Ahmad's Muallaf came to mind when I read the premise of this film. The only remote connection these two films shared, is how a pair of siblings are on the run from their parents, with one parent thinking that the older sister had abducted the younger one. In Water Flower, Minako (Saki Terashima) does just that, but on her seven year old half-sister Yu (Himawari Ono) when she enticed the latter to escape with her to Aihama with the promise of toys and an ocean view.

I suppose once you strike that emotional connection with a small kid, they're more than likely to follow you especially when you deliver promise after promise of a fun time. More so when both Minako and Yu share some common DNA coming from the same mother Shiori, who had separated from Minako's dad, and forming a new family nucleus with Yu, and in some ways abandoning the teenage Minako. The introduction dwells on establishing this fractured family dynamics and challenges to livelihood, setting the narrative for that chance meeting and encounter between the two half sisters at an arcade, where one is frustrated by the mom's inability to send her to ballet lessons, and the other running away from a dad who made sexual advances in a drunken stupor.

From then on the story focused on the serendipituous manner in which the parents come together to look for their children, who spend their days in play at the house of their grandparents. Nothing much happens as the narrative stepped aside for aesthetics to take over, where every shot is nicely framed, and brings a sense of peace and quiet to two girls who find solace in each other's company from their respective topsy-turvy lives, with Minako inevitably serving as the surrogate mother to Yu.

Written and directed by Yusuke Kinoshita, when compared to the films in this year's lineup so far, this is probably the quietest of them all, especially when contrasted against the black and white classics which each had an agenda to push through to the masses. Water Flower is paced leisurely, and personally I still felt it had pulled its punches at the finale, where it opted to be open ended when there was no real need to. Still, it was probably the only way to end the film without condemning one of the protagonist as irresponsible and reckless in thw way things get developed.

[Japanese Film Festival] A Stranger of Mine (Unmei Janai Hito)

So What's For Dessert?

Today marks the start of a series of paid screenings of the Japanese Film Festival, which if you do not already know comes in two parts, the first being the free ones that celebrate the classics and masters of Japanese cinema. The contemporary offerings get its air time now, and in this year's selection comes a number of films programmed from Japan's oldest film festival, the PIA Film Fest. I haven't seen a film coming out of that festival till now, and if this film is any indication on the kind of quality we could be expecting over the next few days, then I can't wait!

Written and directed by Kenji Uchida, A Stranger of Mine begins with what I thought would have made it a fine romantic film. Maki (Reika Kirishima) decides to leave her cheating fiance, and pawns her engagement ring for 3500 Yen. Literally packing up all her troubles in an old kit bag, she wonders about town alone and dejected, wallowing in self pity before finally ending up in a restaurant where Kanda (So Yamanaka) is reminding Miyata (Yasuhi Nakamura) that age is catching up on the latter and that he should forget about Ayumi (Yuka Itaya) the girl who had dumped him. A coincidental meeting of someone from the opposite sex is just about never going to happen to people over 30 years of age and to create an opportunity for his friend, Kanda gets Maki to sit with them before he disappears, leaving the two strangers to sink or swim with their new found acquaintance.

So begins what would be an episode of emotional connection through awkward conversations going nowhere before some certainty in a friendship emerges, and from then on I thought it's about two broken, lonely souls connecting and rediscovering the beauty of being in a relationship should they take the leap of faith together. In some ways their conversations around town hints at Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise/Sunset, and some of the most beautiful love stories can actually happen in the simplest fashion with two interacting lead characters when their conversational pieces strike a chord emotionally between themselves and with an audience who identify with the topics at hand.

Hold you horses, buster, it is not this film! Uchida throws all that romanticism out of the window, and opts for a filmic romanticism of the non-linear narrative, where this film is not about two lonely, broken souls, but about 5 persons in total, offering a lot more to the entire story with the respective character arcs that enriches the entire story unfolding a series of events in 24 hours, giving us the expose on who the characters actually are, probing their intent and providing a multi-faceted look at their motivations, some uncanny, mostly comedic, some hopeful, while others scheming.

I'm all for non-linear narrative films, and am a sucker for them actually because of the way the filmmaker keeps you in suspense for the most parts, before slowly revealing the plot in a way that adds a little something to the film. This revelation doesn't need to be linear as well, and has to be done with skill so that the individual segments still made sense, is self-contained to tell a sub-story, and yet easy enough for an audience to pick up on certain cues meant to glue the rest of the segments together. Uchida succeeds on all counts, and what finally got delivered is a romantic comedy with characters we care for, even if they are fearsome gangsters, scheming fatales or wimpy nerds.

Just what about happens in the rest of the film best remains to be experienced yourself, so I'm going to keep mum about it. But I assure you that after Fish Story, this merits itself as one of the highlights of the festival experience thus far, and I'd enjoy a good madcap caper or two that demonstrated how the most innocuous of intent, with that proverbial suitcase of money and the necessity of Asian society and in general people across the board, to place a premium on face, and the saving of it. Certainly these were elements enough for Uchida to imaginatively craft a tale out of, and out came this superb film as a result.

As a character mentioned early in the film that nothing is coincidental, take it as a cue of what is on offer in the film, where you'd come to appreciate the intricacies of the storyline where every incident happens with purpose, makes sense and provides a lot of fun when the cat is let out of the bag, right up until the end credits, and more. It worked perfectly when a friend quipped “like that only ah”” and the end credit surprise came up for that coda. Made his day, and mine definitely.

[Japanese Film Festival] Hogs and Warships (Buta To Gunkan)

If Looks Could Kill

Shohei Imamura films continue to be showcased in the Japanese Film Festival, and Hogs and Warships is a tale of pimps, gangsters and prostitutes put together in a melting pot that is the streets of Yokosuka, a port town where US Navy personnel spend their R&R in postwar Japan. And I suppose you know that means painting the town red with drink and women, with the Japanese folk all eager to make a quick buck through the provision of services.

I think there is no love shown here in painting, through the course of the film, how the pigs can refer to both the American soldiers - where the rowdy rank and file chasing skirts to bed, and the officers portrayed as more than willing to keep mistresses - and the Japanese men themselves who are pimping their town/city/country, where everyone's thinking of making good money in the shortest possible time. As an outcome, there's a whole load of black comedy that Imamura crafts in the film, where gangsters are constantly scheming and looking to outwit rivals, and the women well, relegated to either the backlanes waiting for pimps to bring in business, or pandering to the notion of being a kept woman for a better life overseas.

Hogs and Warships, or Pigs and Battleships, begins with showing the bleak picture of the impoverished in Yokosuka out to make a living through all means possible, despite the clamp down on bars and establishments by the Shore Patrol, that seems more symbolic and hence hypocritical in nature even, where a prostitute lashes out at a SP personnel for visiting her brothel just before the closure. After a quick introduction we're introduced to the protagonists in the lovebird couple Kinta (Hiroyuki Nagato) and Haruko (Jitsuko Yoshimura, who followed up this film with Onibaba, also featured in last year's JFF), one on each side of the sexes to touch on their respective strategies to better their lives.

Kinta's the quintessential easy-going, happy go lucky and unlikely gangster, where he thinks the money is with running with the gangsters, although he soon finds out his recruitment besides helping to operate the black market hog business, is to become the fall guy for practically everything that goes wrong for the gang, from the comical disposal of a corpse, to taking the rap for the gangster chief should it come down to that. With that comes the promise of riches beyond his imagination, with which he can pursue his dream of becoming a band manager.

Haruko is that steely lady that we've come accustomed to with Imamura's characterization of the fairer sex. Like the other romantic leading ladies in films like A Flame at the Pier and Good for Nothing, they possess this inexplicable hope that they are able to change their man through love. Here, Haruko persuades quite unsuccessfully for Kinta to give up his life of crime, wanting him to work in a factory, which to Kinta is a dead end job. The story of Haruko serves to be more interesting than the rest, especially through Jitsuko Yoshimura's performance where in the finale you can feel her resolve jumping right out of the screen in her determination to create a new life away from the old one where mistakes have been made and old hopes shattered.

It's the life and times of the working class during the era, and comes with a scene that's much talked about when all hell breaks loose on the streets of Yokosuka, where everything, including hundreds of pigs, comes together for that literal big bang finale complete with action, comedy and that tinge of poignancy even. With cinematography at its inventive best (the continuous spin from an eye in the sky angle when Haruko finds herself trapped in trouble was totally unexpected and made quite an impact on the passage of time), I found myself more interested with a glancing look at how the pachinko machine was manually operated at the backend by a number of hostesses working to feed those ball bearings into the player's machines!

[Japanese Film Festival] Sinner in Paradise (Kaette Kita Yopparai)

Domino Effect

And the lineup of films that appeals to an acquired taste continues, so far with Diary of a Shinjuku Thief, Shohei Imamura's A Man Vanishes, and now Nagisa Oshima's Stranger in Paradise. While it's aimed to tackle themes like racism which seemed to be shunned at the time, there's a pretty good mix of humour that takes the mickey out of a number of events, and really requires some patience as well because everything seemed to have turned over its head and started afresh at the mid way mark, so don't be looking to walk out of the screening hall, or eject that DVD just yet.

Stranger in Paradise opens in a bizarre fashion, where three students (Kazuhiko Kato, Osamu Kitayama, Norihiko Hashida) strip down to their underwear at a beach and monkey around as if after watching Bloody Thirst and got inspired by the character's iconic image of having a gun pointed at his head. Eventually they do hit the sea proper, and a hand emerges from under the sand to swap two out of three of their clothing. All this played out over a very kitsch song that seems like chipmunks on steroids. It turns out that two Korean soldiers (Kei Sato and Cha Dei-Dang) had AWOL from Korea and found themselves wanting a new life in Japan, and with the Japanese authorities hot on their trail to repatriate them back, they need to find some scapegoats to pose as them, hence the sitting duck students.

In a jiffy we see the three students get sent to Pusan, then to jail, then to an American camp in Vietnam, then dying out there at the warfront. Only that this happens in so comedic a fashion that you'll begin to question the legitimacy of it all the moment it begins. The film consists of countless of surreal moments such as this one, including one involving life and death, repetition in a cycle, and as mentioned, having everything repeat itself almost all over again, though the second time round it marked some attitude changes, where the students take their knowledge of what's to come, and goes along with the game from the onset. Other surreal moments will involve character motivation and design changes especially that of a husband and wife team, and an interview segment out of the blue where (I believe it's staged) people on the street are asked their nationality, and we realized who outnumbers who – the result which has to be taken with a pinch of salt.

Somehow there are a few common threads, ideas and elements that run through the films so far. For starters, the music – they're all infectious and take some time to get out of your head, and then there's the shared dream landscapes the characters often find themselves in, like that in Sing a Song of Sex, and now Sinner in Paradise, where they seem to “wake up” from time to time yet unable to find themselves in what is deemed to be reality. I'm not even sure if there is one in the film to begin with, and wonder if paradise the title alludes to, is just that – a place without a proper beginning, or end.

Perhaps one of the key pointed moments that address the issue of racism head on involve the Korean soldiers being terribly insistent that the Japanese students wear the former's military clothing. In the midst of a policeman, the Japanese students, through a series of questions, realize that the authorities simply have no idea what the soldiers looked like, and are only following orders to look for anyone wearing those recognizable togs. It's quite clear that it alludes to how we are quick to judge others on the basis of appearance and from what we see on the outside, rather than to spend time to look into something more deeper and meaningful than appearances. The ending also saw that realization and reconciliation coming too little too late, and has something it wants to say about the Vietnam war with the use of a recognizable motif. The notion of Koreans not killing Koreans can also suggest a larger picture that we shouldn't be killing ourselves. OK, I think I've gone overboard in desperately trying to spot some meaning in the film.

It will probably take repeat screenings to truly appreciate the ideas that are put forth in an oblique fashion since with each scene comes more things that are curiouser and curiouser. At least it's peppered with comedy that you can laugh at while perplexed at the more stranger things that unfold.

[Japanese Film Festival] Her Brother (Otouto)

Sadness

Yoji Yamada's film About Her Brother was a tribute to Kon Ichikawa's film Otouto, and I won't be able to tell you how so given that I've not seen Yamada's film in its entirety, suffice to say that both films are family melodramas that dwell primarily on the relationships between siblings, where the titular brother is actually the black sheep of the family for the shenanigans he gets into, and the troubles brought onto the family, especially for his sister.

Her Brother, or Otouto, tells of the story of a family of four. Dad does nothing but write on a daily basis, or spend time calculating the financial bleed brought about by son Hekiro (Hiroshi Kawaguchi) whose laziness, troubles and general irresponsible behaviour he condones as part of experience building and growing up. I suspect too that in an Asian society boys generally get away with a lot of things as compared to the girls. His sister Gen (Keiko Kishi) becomes the primary caregiver of the family, since their incessantly complaining Christian step-mum is almost rendered an invalid given her chronic rheumatism, and so Gen does most of the work at home to become the cook, mender, cleaner and errant runner.

And what is a family drama without issues faced by the family? So we have a step-mum who rather believes outsiders such as Mrs Tanuma (Kyoko Kishida, the same actress from A Flame at the Pier) who proves to be quite the influence), rather than Gen her stepdaughter, which of course frustrates Gen. And the story has a pointed critique on religious fanaticism with the behaviour of the mother, but it's not all that bad as she makes at effort later to do things despite personal pain.

But the main problem here will be Hekiro being spoilt by a father who essentially allows him to do as he pleases, and thus his recklessness and devil may care attitude sometimes helps Gen, but mostly requires her to bail him out from sticky situations created by the owing of money to establishments such as billiard parlours, boat houses and even a horse owner. Being a lazy bum in school and mixing with bad company also spells trouble, but Gen's complaints consistently fall on deaf ears.

Does the family disintegrate? Of course not. Like almost all families, testy issues will crop up, but blood runs thicker than water, especially the strong bonds between sister and brother that the film goes all out to illustrate. Credit goes to the actors Hiroshi Kawaguchi and Keiko Kishi in their roles to deliver that believable chemistry and banter being siblings, which hits home a lot more when trouble besets one of them, and the entire family has got to adjust to the impending change. In some way I felt this film also became the precursor to many teenage romantic films out there where tragedies spring up with the introduction of a deadly disease that will be used to highlight character devotion and love, and Otouto contains this aspect by the bucketloads.

While some subplots are forgettable, such as the advances of a supposed cop Rokuno who's up to no good, there are ample touching moments especially in the second half for that tissue packet to be opened. The big fights also reminded me of some of my own many years in the past (*blush*), and yes, reconciliation very much happens faster than you can spell out that word. Such is family. What I enjoyed most out of this film was the look back at societal norms and attitudes of the time, where girls are encouraged to do just about everything in order to prepare for that one singular path in life – marriage, where they are supposed to continue in their domesticated role almost forever, and their value and contribution to their future households hinges very much in what they can do at the present time. And I'd like to think that this has already mostly changed in modern day civilizations.

I had enjoyed the film, so I guess what remains now is to find an opportunity to watch Yoji Yamada's tribute film in its entirety to see which aspects got retained, and just how a tribute film is done.

[Japanese Film Festival] A Man Vanishes (Ningen Johatsu)

Do You See What I See

Shohei Imamura was one of the directors in focus in the 2007 edition of the Japanese Film Festival, but his vast filmography means that we continue to see some of his masterpieces in this year's edition as well. A Man Vanishes examines the concept of Johatsu, tackling the phenomenon of people missing in Japan over the years. It picks one such person from the list, someone who had seemed to disappear from the face of the earth due to embezzlement from his company, and the filmmakers begin an investigative documentary into the reasons behind and attempt at tracking him down.

The presentation of the documentary runs like an investigative drama predominantly filled with police interrogative type of questioning. The filmmakers take great pains to locate friends and family of Tadashi Oshima, and interviews them on camera – at times needed to mask their eyes to protect identities - to provide us a vast and hopefully objective opinion of the man we get engaged into looking for. This provides an opportunity for Imamura to touch upon themes such as relationships, as well as the general attitudes of people in Oshima's generation. At one point the occult is also pursued as an option to try and obtain answers to the million dollar question as to his current location.

And you may find that the film does get a little long-winded with no end in sight in its discussions and interviews, crafting a story quite unlike how it will be done in today's context, since the tale here come in pieces from the series of interviews, perceptions formed, and the memories of subjects that we know will be tainted inevitably by time. If done today, it'll be more in-your-face and to-the-point (though there's a reason why this was avoided) with a clear narrative guiding hand to point us where it wants us to look. This one spirals a little out of control where the interviewees and subject craft most of the talking points, and as a result we get a potential for a murder-mystery, involving two sisters who seem to be equally involved, and possibly guilty as to the outcome of Oshima's location.

But when the rug gets pulled under our feet through the sudden breaking of walls and the audience being engaged at a different level, we then realize how in effect the film may set out to make us understand how near impossible it is to solve cases of this nature, on how it's mind boggling to know where to begin, nor know whether time invested in investigations will lead to a successful outcome. It has to rely on the faulty memories of people insistent that they're right, and as events unfold show how stalemates are so easily reached when either party fervently believe what they see as experience as the truth, and in so will contradict the accounts of others. On the other hand, the line between reality and fiction, truth and lie gets blurred beyond recognition, so whatever you thought you knew becomes something you don't anymore.

In the last 2 scenes which are quite similar in content, one in a room and the other in an outdoor street location, one will get dizzy following the entire dialogue exchange, because it beats around the bush, never ends, and contains never ending bickering that you'll be exasperated enough to root for someone giving up. Thank goodness that the camera pulls out in time, though still leaving you perplexed over

[Japanese Film Festival] Diary of a Shinjuku Thief (Shinjuku Dorobo Nikki)

Shopping at Kino

I was wondering which of the films will prove to be the one big alternative, experimental experience, and to my surprise it had to be Nagisa Oshima's Diary of a Shinjuku Thief. As the festival director Gavin Liu had explained in the pre-screening introduction, this is a rare screening of the film, and the owner of Kinokuniya bookstores is actually the man playing the Kinokuniya store manager in the film, as are many of the performers playing themselves, being non-actors going their own real thing as captured on celluloid.

It's a treat all right, but I suppose it's an acquired taste that I still haven't cultivated. One of the draws to this film is because I'm curious to see how Shinjuku, the hotbed area in Tokyo where all things youth and underground take place, looked like in the swinging 60s, having been there in two consecutive years already. The film opens with a crazy introduction of a man forced by a group to strip down to his underwear (a rather flimsy one that barely protects his modesty), being accused of stealing some pipes, before the group start to cower when they see his tattoo. Then we're thrust into the narrative proper that deals with the titular bookstore thief Torio, cheekily nicknamed Birdtop (Tadanori Yokoo), as the camera follows behind him through the extremely packed Kino bookstore - where you can't help that people around just happen to gaze into the camera – until he gets nabbed by the eagle eyed salesgirl Umeko (Rie Yokoyama) for taking a book out without paying for it.

In fact he does so twice, and besides to experience the high from pinching things, a challenge he throws to Umeko later on in the story, I suspect he does so because he's got quite the hots for Umeko, an attractive though complicated lady, that even the store manager probably sensed something brewing between them, and offering not to report Birdtop to the cops, but to gift him some books as well as cash for both Birdtop and Umeko to spend. That essentially launches them into having some time off if you will to visit everything else that Oshima's intended to put into his film, with 4 different writers that will inevitably lead to a kaleidoscope of ideas, bringing forth the massive melting pot of different folks with different strokes.

Presented in sections split by intertitles that tell the time (worldwide to local, and other nuggets of trivia such as the weather condition at the time) the film is almost documentary in nature come this point, and interchanges between black and white and colour which I still have to figure out why, other than to not miss out in capturing the vibrant colours present in particular performances and scenes. There's a visit to a sexologist whose area of research may challenge Kinsey's, and a talking heads styled interview with a group that's focused predominantly on sex, where it gets expressed verbally, and later on, having numerous sex scenes which had to justify its R21 rating in Singapore.

Like the earlier films, this one is also rich in music such as Juro Kara coming on at every opportunity with a guitar, though the tunes were not quite up my alley. It's like a musical of sorts at times when characters inexplicably appears and break out into music. And while the story becomes more perplexing, I gave up trying to piece the narrative together since it was clearly abandoned to showcase various performances available at that era in Shinjuku. In that respect this film will work relatively well in capturing things that will inevitably be lost as time goes by, and for the modern audience to experience what it was like then, especially those vaudeville theatre styled acts. The other scene I thought I enjoyed until it proved to be outstaying its welcome involved Umeko walking by shelves of books, and quotes from the literary masters call out to her through voiceovers.

The film ends with a montage of scenes involving some protests with the police out in force. I suppose this would have echoed the feelings of those who did not agree with the film, some having to walk out before they get to the scene. A rare treat, but one that calls for an acquired taste to thoroughly enjoy.

[Japanese Film Festival] Air Doll (Kûki Ningyô)

Coming Alive

Writer-director Kore-eda has a strong fanbase in Singapore after his well-received Nobody Knows garnered him quite the following from a screening here years back. No sooner than the festival's tickets had gone on sale that it registered its first sell-out session in Air Doll, and two other subsequent repeat screenings released had all its tickets already snapped up. Either that, or the appeal of watching a sex doll come to life under Singapore's R21 rating uncut is too hard to pass up. I had that opportunity to partake in a masterclass session with Kore-eda during last year's Tokyo International Film Festival where three of his films got screened overnight with the director and his guests in attendance, but alas I wasn't in top form to have covered it. I'm regretting it now.

The other film I had watched with a sex doll featured prominently in the story was Craig Gillespie's Lars and the Real Girl starring Ryan Gosling, where his character bought a custom made sex doll over the internet not for sex, but for companionship. Personally I've always thought it creepy for anyone to own a doll to interact with and yikes, to make love to, and here even christening it Nozomi. But as a character in Air Doll puts it, a real life relationship may be too hard for some folks to handle because it comes with inevitable problems, warts and all. And yes while that's the truth, I still can't fathom the necessity of owning a doll for sexual gratification, but I digress.

Kore-eda's Air Doll is a fantasy film along the lines of Pinnochio, where an inanimate object comes to life and dreams of being a real boy. Here, it's all the more creepier when the air doll Nozomi suddenly without reason nor forewarning, starts to move on her own, and develops heart and soul through the course of the story. She doesn't need to yearn to be real, because she's almost real, utilizing clothing and makeup to conceal portions of her that are tell-tale signs that she's a life-sized made-of-plastic Barbie doll coming in the form of Korean actress Bae Doo-na (last seen in the Korean monster film The Host).

Bae brings her Nozomi a sense of that wide-eyed wonderment of the real world, and her performance as a plastic inflatable doll is flawless, with Nozomi constantly in amazement from the assault of the senses of sight, sound and touch. There's also a comedic innocence brought about through her zilch knowledge of the real world, which of course we'll expect this to be exploited by nastier humans, because the world is as evil as such, where innocence has no place once her honeymoon period is over. Balancing her routine very carefully with that of her owner Hideo's (Itsuji Itao) in order to enable her to work at a video store in the day, living an independent life undetected, and then being back at home on time to fulfill Hideo's sexual needs, things start to become a little more complicated when she develops feelings for her colleague Junichi (Arata).

Paced slowly to mirror Nozomi's journey of discovery of all things beautiful, from cosmetics to toddlers to that proverbial flower along the sidewalk, Air Doll contains a few scenes that provide that stark commentary about the emptiness of soul and the loneliness experienced in big city living. To Nozomi it's an abstract concept that she grasps only literally, but for the rest of us, we're likely to nod in agreement with the statements, since we're experiencing such feelings day in and day out. It is these episodes and incidents, through Nozomi's interactions with others that bring the film to life, and some of these can be as short as one self-contained scene like the one on the bus where she lends her shoulder to a sleeping man. It's all within our means to show a little compassion and to make the world a better place to live in.

While yet consumed with a pop kind of feeling throughout, and Kore-eda's most erotic film to date, the film is a meditation of life, and the fragility of it, where people are constantly in search of substitutes for things they cannot obtain to fulfill some need or want, which reflects quite well of our modern life where distractions are many, and substitution being a way of life from products to services. I absolutely loved how Kore-eda provided us scenes of satisfaction with a montage of lonely people doing simple things, to that switch later on with dissatisfaction with the same. It's a wonderful fantasy film that makes us reflect on our own parallels, but doesn't do so in a preachy way, instead relying on comedy through the literal interpretation of things as an early counterbalance to lighten the mood later on with tragedy meant for reflection.

The science-fiction equivalent will be something like Spielberg's A.I., where a young robot embarks on a quest to find his mother and become a real boy This air doll has plenty of humanity inside her, full of soul and that never-ceasing innocent curiosity that makes it a delight to watch, maintaining touching aspects to tug at your heartstrings. I'm quite certain the audience who have snapped up tickets so eagerly won't be left disappointed.

[Japanese Film Festival] Bloody Thirst (Chi Wa Kawaiteru)

For Friends

The second film of Yoshishige Yoshida (whose first film Good for Nothing was screened yesterday) earns itself the credit by my count of being one that contains the most number of images of a man holding a gun to himself. It's a stark image of being a trigger away from certain death and as part of the plot, goes from unsettling to numbness as the story wore on. I still preferred Good for Nothing, although this film marks a departure from its steady presentation then to one that's more kinetic in following the new lease of life of an unstable man.

The film opens with Takashi Kiguchi (Keiji Sada) in the confines of a toilet, on the verge of making a decision that will change the course of his life since his intent is to shoot himself and end it. As his company had announced its corporate downsizing to ensure some longevity in the immediate future, Kiguchi emerges with a gun to his head, begging the company spokesman like a plea bargain to exchange his life for the rest of his colleagues to keep their jobs. His friend Kanai intervenes at the critical moment, and adverts a tragedy on company premises.

But this widely reported incident catches the ear of Nonaka (Mari Yoshimura), who decides to use Kiguchi then Kanai for her insurance company as its spokespersons, selling the idea that a man who is the epitome of self-sacrifice is beneficial to an insurance company and hawked the idea of creating a PR celebrity for the firm. Kiguchi reluctantly agrees, and Nonaka's campaign to groom him and build his publicity turn out to be a resounding success.

If I may skew the thought that a man who lives by the gun dies by it, then Bloody Thirst (or Blood Thirsty) charts of a man whose new life created by the mass media, also becomes the target of it, or at least the tabloid aspects, where seedier reporters with quaintly any morals will just go about do anything in order to get sensationalized soundbites, or racy – doctored even through entrapment – pictures of such media created celebrities in compromising photographs. After all, scandals sell newspapers and magazines. Yoshida's film touches on both the influence and power of the mainstream media in giving anyone their 15 minutes of fame, and how it can be used to create social icons and memorable images to sell ideas.

However, Kiguchi as the choice of a role model or spokesperson is also called into question, and goes to show how Nonaka's due diligence in ensuring suitability just gets tossed to the wind, in order to quickly milk the growing public sentiments over the man. We always wonder what it takes to be publicly adored, or how role models get created and worshipped before a scandal comes in to destroy credibility. Kiguchi's rise to fame was based on the instability of a man at his wits end, where his relationship with his wife is in the doldrums and his private life just about to fall apart, so we can just about guess the longevity of someone who's rise is based on so much negativity, ready dirt if you will, available to be exposed anytime.

The story also develops the slow and steady growth of a tussle of control and war between the creator and her product, one clearly conscious about wanting to exploit an image and to control her icon, while the other decides to use his new found fame to push through agendas since he's commanding a voice that is heard, and what he thinks is good for the public. Fervent public support puts him into a bubble with the notion that such support exists permanently, something that he'll discover is never the case. Managers of an image and brand come and go, and we know that corporations prefer to keep their distance from losers.

A sidebar plot gave the tabloid reporter and his model friend Yoko (Yuuko Kashiwagi) some legs to carry the film as well, and the fickle exploitative relationships between the characters in the film reinforces how nasty people with an agenda can be, through the use of tools such as blackmail and entrapment, going as far as to bait a man's wife in order to hurt him where it hurts most. I thought it was the lowest of the low to employ such tactics, with an intent to just bring down someone just because.

[Japanese Film Festival] A Flame at the Pier (Namida O Shishi No Tategami Ni)

Lust

As I mentioned, music seems to be playing a big part in the festival films thus far, and A Flame at the Pier by Masahiro Shinoda is also filled with varied music, from a guitar ballad about seagulls which Sabu (Takashi Fujiki) uses to serenade ladies, to like an Elvis Presley movie with him rocking and rolling off the cuff to masses at a party. But this is unlike a Presley film which is almost always so uplifting and sunny. If anything, this story is about the tragic life of Sabu the young adult, a henchman beholden and indebted to his boss, the limping Kitani (Koji Nanbara), whom he believed had saved him from an air raid when he was young which resulted in his disability.

A Flame at the Pier opens with a sit down strike amongst the dock workers, who are protesting about their poor work conditions, long work hours, ill treatment and paltry pay. What more they still have to provide a kickback percentage of to Kitani and his thugs and muscles to well, keep them out of trouble. Decisions to unionize themselves to bring in better bargaining power has always led to the ringleader meeting with tragedy, and it's no prizes guessing the involvement of you know who in order to maintain and satisfy the greed of managers and the company. Clearly you can see the rich-poor divide that is very prominent amongst the haves, throwing opulent parties attended by who's who of society, and the have nots who are obviously struggling.

At some points I thought the film was a romantic one even, with two separate threads running, one that dwelled on the budding romance between Sabu and Yuki, a waitress he saves from a barking dog by flinging it against a fence (yes, you gotta see it to believe!) to contrast the forbidden yet open affair between Kitani and Reiko (Kyoko Kishida), the wife of the impotent dock company's president (So Yamamura) who needs an escape from her loveless and dead marriage, since she's in it for the money. And similarly to Yoshishige Yoshida's Good for Nothing, Yuki holds onto the hope that her love, or a demonstration of it, can change Sabu for the better, since she's just about the only person in his life that sees the better side of him for the time being, the rest of the workers warning her that he's nothing good but a company dog made to obey orders by Kitani.

This is quite the tragedy in having a protagonist being someone who's being manipulated on all fronts, and not being able to live his dreams of making it big through his great singing voice. Instead what we see is a caged bird puppet who operates as told by his master in a show of blind faith and loyalty, being dangled with a carrot of a promise that his hard work will be rewarded sometime in future. But in the meantime, the exploitation continues, and he's subjected to a life filled with lies, betrayal and of being used by others in positions of power, making him no better off than those he's supposed to monitor, and experiencing the double whammy of watching his romantic happiness slip away, and his commitment of a grave sin.

Goes to show that unless bold steps are taken to walk away with courage from what we know is wrong, we're going to be forever stuck in a vicious circle that becomes too late to walk away from one day. There's no riding into the sunset with his lady love in this film, although a sunset does feature in casting its rays onto a figure in solitude.

[Japanese Film Festival] Sing a Song of Sex (Nihon Shunka-Kô)

I'm slowly suspecting that music will continue to play a large part in the festival films presented, as thus far we got treated to the jazzy tunes in Good for Nothing, the punk rock Fish Story (still a earworm), and now a slew of Japanese folk songs with some recognizable Western evergreens peppering the soundtrack of Sing a Song of Sex, which is also known by its other title Treatise on Japanese Bawdy Songs, and boy are they bawdy when left to the devices of the singer to improvise.

Directed by Nagisa Oshima outside of the studio system, Sing a Song of Sex as the name implies has as a chief plot element a number of bawdy songs, as explained by Otake (Juzo Itami) to be an outlet for expression by the oppressed masses who have no other avenue to describe their misery, other than to sing about the pleasures of sex and desire, although a number of the lyrics tell of stories about the poor and the things they have to resort to for a living. It's quite clear that Oshima crafted a pointed commentary of society at the time (since he's largely involved in various student demonstrations), through the discussions between Otake and his group of co-ed students as they bar hop after the student examinations, the girls truly being enamoured by their handsome teacher, while the boys just tagging along because of their fantasy in bedding some, if not all, of their female schoolmates.

Like Good for Nothing, these four male students do seem like the usual teenage idle bunch, perhaps so because the examinations are just over, and they're looking for some sort of release and letting their hair down, one of which is to hit the town painting it red, and spend time watching the latest pinku film. Why not, for all hot blooded males, that the topic of sex will pop up inevitably when they talk crap and thrash talk about women and their individual sexual fantasies, that ironically, they do not know how to act around one, especially when they start boasting about what they intend to do with the school flower Fujiwara (Kazuko Tajima) whom they all call “469” based on her examination hall seating assignment.

And the way Oshima had presented this lustful desire had a ring of Nolan's Inception to it, that it deals with a shared fantasy dreamscape where all of them exist and can bear witness to one another's actions in his realm, but instead of falling into deep sleep and needing a kick to wake up, here it goes a one up in being able to do while day-dreaming, therein eliminating the risk of falling into limbo. Of course there's no idea to be planted, only idle boasts of what they're capable of which will have its bluff called later on in the film. This section of the film was one of my favourites for its conceptual execution, but the subject matter will surely disturb.

Like the films from the 60s I've seen thus far, the cinematography and the landscapes are quite the sight to behold, especially those wide shots of a wintry landscape, and the few scenes of the downtown city and subway which seem quite quaintly familiar. We follow the four friends, of whom the leader of the pack Nakamura (Ichiro Araki) stands out for having more to do in the film, and responsible for the death of Otake due to his inaction, a preventable death by a silly mistake on Otake's part if you will, but with irresponsible youths, there's always no due consideration where their actions or inactions will take them in the future.

The second half of the film splits its narrative into two tangents, leading up to the realm of the strange. In the first, we follow Nakamura to the home of Otake's sweetheart Tanigawa (Akiko Koyama)where Nakamura is contemplating how to break the news of his responsibility to her, and it becomes a guilt trip enactment of what happened. The second follows the rest of his friends as they seek out Fujiwara at an anti-Vietnam war movement, also to apologize to her for their virtual violation, but get sort of involved and caught up in the song-singing rallying of the students, and when both threads merge for the finale, it's one really warped mix of lust and desire against a quick folktale history of that between Korea and Japan, taking place inside a pyramid shaped building.

Far out. Hoi hoi!

[Japanese Film Festival] Fish Story (Fisshu Sutôrî)

Gekirin!!!

What the Fish!!! So I'd thought that it'll be somewhat of a chore to sit through almost two hours late into what's left of a Friday night with Fish Story, directed by Yoshihiro Nakamura and based on the novel by Kotaro Isaka. But I was utterly blown away, leaving me feet tapping and head bobbing all the way through to the end credits roll, and a smile plastered on my face all the way home. It's an armageddon film done with pizzazz and creative flair, and not to mention that dash of comedy and great music, that I'd feel is a hard act for the rest of the festival lineup to keep within touch for the Audience Choice. I know it's still early in the festival, but Fish Story has established itself as one of the best films I've watched this year, and one of the rare few that will likely give you that familiar fuzzy feeling after you've sat through an awesome film.

The story unveils itself in non-linear fashion, and somewhat like Sandcastle, has a little lingering mystery - a punk rock song that contains a minute's silence - to what it actually all means, which comes altogether as a climax when everything gets to show hand. It tackles that wonderment of how events in the past will inevitably shape what's to come in the future, even if it doesn't make sense in the present. And Nakamura takes this premise, and through the narrative structure enables the audience to experience just that. We're brought from timeline to timeline that at the point of presentation the scenes seem disparate to one another and don't make much sense, but contains enough in their individual segments to entertain.

Hinging on a song called Fish Story that's performed by a punk rock band called Gekirin, it's amazing just what this one song can do to carry the entire film, not only because it sounds great (those not into punk rock, I'd think you'd find it hard not to enjoy this, especially when the cast members go into overdrive in their performance), but has an intriguing story on how it got produced, that forms the bulk of the film. Like most songs that seem fated to fade into obscurity without proper promotional or marketing power or fans to ensure some longevity, or worst, a band that's being condemned as talentless and to be let go by their record company, little do the band members know that one day this song will just about save humankind.

And in that respect, with Japanese fantasy/sci-fi stories in a similar mould such as the Twentieth Century Boys trilogy, Fish Story tackles the same doomsday scenario with an ensemble cast, and that plot element of a song of hope yet unfulfilled and unexplained, in a succinct fashion that doesn't meander unnecessarily. Spanning almost 40 years, we're treated to one off stories such as a timid driver (Gaku Hamada, resembling a youthful looking Jackie Chan with that hairdo he spots) who finds some resolve to stand up for himself and for others after being told of a prophecy about saving the world, and another tale where a young cook onboard a ferry saving a schoolgirl (Mikako Tabe) and other passengers from gun totting hijackers. They're as disparate as they can get, and if you're wondering just what's going on when you see recurring characters or instances in each, I'd say to enjoy the moments crafted, from a tinge of horror to an all out action-adventure, before the payload at the end truly hits you.

All these and more, based upon the single introduction set in the year 2012, where the world is threatened by a comet on a collision course for Earth, and a group of strangers gathering in a niche music shop. It's 5 hours to impact, and the shopkeeper whips out the rare Fish Story vinyl record for them all to give a listen to, thinking that it's quite futile to head toward Mount Fuji to avoid an impending tsunami scenario, and of course hoping for a miracle to come from a country that on one hand is not expected, and on the other totally plausible for the maths and science experts it produces.

There are references to other Japanese icons such as Godzilla and Go-Rangers, and for fans of Hollywood films, you'll probably be able to identify the oh-so-funny references and cheeky dissing of films from The Karate Kid (PAt Morita's Mr Miyagi version, not the Jackie Chan Mr Han version though), and Michael Bay's Armageddon, in fact "quoting" the what-if scenario of having the nuclear bombs on the comet, but yet to be exploded because, well, of what happened to Bruce Willis. Some stories are played out in tongue-in-cheek fashion, and they complement one another really well, which of course makes the finale all the more fun, especially when everything starts to make sense, and goes the full circle.

Watch this film with an appreciative audience. Fish Story screens again on 28 Aug Sat at 430pm. Tickets are still available, so don't miss this!

Take it away, Gekirin!!

[Japanese Film Festival] Good For Nothing (Rokudenashi)

Idlers

Unfortunately I had missed Boy, the opening film of this year's Japanese Film Festival focused on the theme of Youth because I had to prioritize the Singapore film Sandcastle over it, so my jump point into the festival proper over the next one week is Yoshishige Yoshida's very first film Good for Nothing, made for the Shochiku studio. For a 1960 film and a debut feature at that, it boasts of very solidly defined framing, composition and camera movement that underlines the adage that they don't make things like they used to.

The storyline, on themes such as emptiness and boredom these days get lazily translated on screen into dallying, lingering shots by cameras that do not move, or have it just gaze into long shots of nothing under the hands of wannabes. Yoshida had a very defined way of allowing space for the characters to live and breathe while tackling such ideas, that nothing on scene rings out as an iota of waste. Character development also got weaved admirably as we follow the lives and times of four detestable characters and see how most of them change over the course of the film.

Yoshida's tale involves a pack of four idle youths who do nothing but to leech off the success of some of their wealthy dads, cruising around in an American made car, and constantly building sandcastles in the air when not monkeying around in the rooms of one of their homes. Fun means to play around with the feelings of others, to stage mock robberies, or party at a swanky hotel club. As the weather turns for the worst in Summer with a heat wave of sorts, it means jetting off to the beach and soaking it up in the cool ocean waters.

Not bad a life, if you ask me, with nary a care in the world. However, not all animals, as they are labelled wolves here, are created equal, and while two of the four friends come from wealthy families that can fuel their shenanigans and escapades, the other two are working class who struggle and are willing to seize opportunities that come their way, which sets up the destination and finale of the film, about how those who don't and looking for a quick shortcut have to resort to some form of crime to fuel their addiction of a richer lifestyle.

What's interesting here is the romantic subplot involving that of one of their victims, the secretary of a friend's rich dad who's quite the fearless female type, having to fall for one of the four who had rescued her from a socially embarrassing situation plotted by the team. It's like forsaking his mates for the flower amongst the thorns, and like what I think some girls do when they fall for bad boys – they fantasize about being able to transform their character for the better through love. I'd say it doesn't work all the time, otherwise we'll never get to know how a leopard fails to change its spots. But it makes for an engaging distraction aside from the usual laidback stuff that we see the four friends get themselves into.

The opening credits will scream for your attention through its beautiful arty design and jazz music that will pepper the soundtrack, and I can't stress enough of how I dig the film's look and feel through its excellent cinematography right up to the frenetic pacing of the final scene that to a modern audience, ends abruptly. Yoshishige Yoshida has his second film lined up in this year's festival as well, and I'm quietly eager to see how his technique will evolve or change.

Sandcastle

Gazing

Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but I think writer-director Boo Junfeng has an affinity for the beach and the sea, as seen from a number of shorts he had done, such as Tanjong Rhu, Katong Fugue and Bedok Jetty, all of which have visuals or settings that lingers on the vast oceans and open sandy beaches. It's perhaps an uncanny coincidence that this film had its title being something usually found on sandy beaches, and being the setting to introduce his lead character in Xiang En (Joshua Tan).

It's quite surprising that for a young director he had chosen to embark on intensive research about an era during nation building that's actually not talked much about, being shrouded with a sense of mystery and discussed in careful whispers, where it's rare for films, the last I recall being Tan Pin Pin's Invisible City which had a section devoted to, explore the Chinese student protests in the 50s (Pin Pin also snags a cameo as a doctor in this film). But here Boo goes headlong, never one to back down from tackling controversial subjects in our island state from GLBT issues to entrapment, and Sandcastle in some ways does seem like an amalgamation of ideas and little elements from his shorts, from Keluar Baris' protagonist being just about to enlist in the army, the mother and son relationship in Katong Fugue, shots reminiscent of Bedok Jetty, and a dabble with an historical piece ala The Changi Murals.

If family dramas are your cup of tea, then Boo Junfeng's maiden feature film will be right up your alley. Of the films released this year so far, it is no wonder that Sandcastle made it to the Cannes Critics' Week. It is a mature piece of cinema as if under the steady guidance of an assured veteran, with quality in all departments. But this is no castle built in the sky. Boo Junfeng has cut his teeth with a series of well liked, and obviously well travelled and award winning short films, so it's only a matter of time before we see him embarking on a feature film project.

This is the story of the life of the Tan family, where we follow the life and adventures of En, a junior college student who will be enlisting to the army by year's end. It's a perfect demonstration, and I suppose since Boo was a teenager not too long ago as well, of the rites of passage a Singaporean male at 18 years of age undergo, from education to the lull period waiting for enlistment, that taking up of a part time job for additional income and to pass time, the learning how to drive and the sweet encounters with the opposite sex, and death even, as this is roughly about the age where grandparents say adieu.

I can easily identify with En, and I suppose that's almost the case with many other males out there, as he goes through his teenage life not quite unlike many of us in Singapore. What more, I come from the same junior college, so it's something of a blast to see a small scene shot on campus grounds, and the temasek green uniform. I can't remember if there was a choir group during my time, but I suppose they did exist.

The story picks up when En has to stay with his grandparents for 2 weeks during the renovation of his home, while his choir and music teacher mom (Elena Chia) scoots off for a China vacation with her new beau Wilson (played by Samuel Chong), a military colonel whom En detests. It is this time that En learns, through his grandfather's safely kept film negatives, more about his father Boon (Andrew Seow in what's mostly a photographic cameo) and the student leader he was, something like En is which we see from the plague on display in his room, but only more engaged and fervent in his ideologies and beliefs, which we will learn how they take its toil as the film unfolds.

The first salvo gets fired here in highlighting this 50s to early 60s era about the Chinese student protesters, and along the way throughout the narrative, this constant probing a section of our history that has been swept under the carpet, creeps slowly into the story in non-provocative fashion as En becomes incessantly obsessed with knowing more, as does little commentaries on the nuances of religion such as death-bed conversions, and the frowning upon the participation of customs and rites from a relative's beliefs. Perhaps this may spark some thought with the younger generation audiences to try and find out more, and for those from the era to begin opening up to talk about it when a budding interest in that era begins to grow.

But it's not all serious without some touches of comedy, which come in feather light doses at the right places, where the loudest guffaw comes courtesy of Wilson providing a chest-thumping presentation on National Day Parade preparations, which incidentally in real life, Boo Junfeng also had a contributing hand in this year's parade. I wonder whether he had encountered similar gaffes! The romance bit between En and Chinese neighbour Ying (Bobbi Chen) also provides some relief from the heavier themes, though their expected sexual awakening (hey, two hot blooded teenagers alone at home) provides the other fulcrum which gives the narrative another push forward.

Managing to coax convincing, natural performances that does away with exaggeration is one of the key major plus points in the film, where surprisingly the leads Joshua Tan and Bobbi Chen are making their film acting debuts, balanced with veterans such as Elena Chia and Samuel Chong. Language delivery for a local film tends to be cringeworthy, but Sandcastle successfully blended a mix of languages without coming across as forced or too artificially polished, especially when one speaks in one language, and a reply comes in the form of another; worked perfectly well here.

Production values are absolutely great, with nicely designed sets and art direction in place to make it all look like the 90s. I think we should begin to sit up and take note of Director of Photography Sharon Loh, as she conjures up beautiful images captured of metropolitan Singapore without resorting to having them all look like banal tourism ads. The song Home also gets a slower, more purposeful spin and beat, as do other Nationalistic songs that get performed by En's school choir. I felt Home's new sound rang home accurately on the exploration of the titular concept, and how the Tans have to live and love how they do.

I'll go as far to honestly say that Sandcastle is Singapore's answer to Japan's Tokyo Sonata by Kiyoshi Kurosawa. It deals with familiar family issues that are central and familiar to a local audience, yet dealing with universal themes that can reach out to the bigger world out there. If you've found this year's commercial releases to be somewhat lacking in depth, then Sandcastle is that film to make you realize that we do have talented filmmakers in our midst with courage to tackle taboo issues in a manner that's non confrontational, yet set to make you think.

This year's best Singapore film, setting a high quality benchmark for others to follow.

*****

Boo Junfeng was joined by cast members Elena Chia and Joshua Tan in a blog aloud session to talk about Sandcastle, and you can watch the entire proceedings here:


Part 1 of 5


Part 2 of 5


Part 3 of 5


Part 4 of 5


Part 5 of 5


Sandcastle opens on 26 August 2010, and unfortunately is only on a one-print run at GV Vivocity Cinema Europa, so you'll have to make your way down to Vivocity to catch this!

Liar Game: The Final Stage (Raiâ Gêmu: Za Fainaru Sutêji)

Liar Liar

If you need an indication whether Liar Game: The Final Stage is any good, then the consistent full house a week into its release should be enough to convince you to watch this, even if you, like me, haven't been following the exploits of the characters on the small screen. While the West have always contemplated how viable it is to bring its television series to the big screen, you'll see no such lack of attempts from the Land of the Rising Sun, and frankly I'm waiting for Bayside Shakedown 3 to make it here since I'm such a huge fan.

Anyway I digress, but you get the idea that such films have a supportive fan base who will turn out in droves for the big screen experience of their beloved series and characters. Liar Game has its roots from manga and television, and of late the suspense/thriller genre has been quite successful with films such as the Death Note series and Kaiji piquing audience interests and engaging them in a battle of wits throughout the movie.

Like the film Exam, this one is predominantly set in a single set location, where the ever-trusting and trustworthy Kanzaki Nao (Erika Toda) gets invited back into the final round of a game, which is something like Survivor where the winner is chosen from how conniving one can be amongst a group of similarly motivated individuals. It's all about the money making more money from how big one's greed and appetite for manipulation is, and like the Saw films, exposes the flaws of man as well as our tendency to put forth self-interests first. And of course joining her are some characters from previous episodes, including her benefactor of sorts, the highly manipulative and intelligent Akiyama Shinichi (Shota Matsuda).

The game play for what is called the "Garden of Eden" is pretty straightforward, with rules defining what can or cannot be performed, as well as results coming from a combination that will determine how points, in this case money, get awarded. Naturally sides get drawn and flimsy alliances form, and most of the fun comes from being able to guess correctly who the traitors are in such alliances, as well as to witness the countless of twists, turns, hidden agendas and secret alliances as we go through some 13 rounds of fun surprises. Scheming and double-crossing become the order of the day, and lies and the calling of bluffs become the primary tools of getting ahead.

Part of the fun also lies in the fact that the film is a mirror of human tendencies, where we allow our failings to get the better of us, instead of the willingness to band together for the greater good. Individual self interests will lead to trust issues amongst the group, and highlights once again about the greed of man, as well as how a small heart and a suspicion let out of hand, will continue to ruin us. In some ways this film begets repeated screenings because then you will possess a cheat sheet in your mind to know the process of elimination, and place some characters higher up on your radar just to observe their individual reactions prior to some great reveal, although be warned, some slight liberties have been taken in some of the flash back scenes where you're not given any prior knowledge, for example, on certain sequence of things.

Liar Game: The Final Stage is a game of deception that plays out like chess, where you'll need to always be multiple steps ahead of your opponent and being able to tell lies from verbal and non-verbal means of communication in order to influence results in your favour. Director Hiroaki Matsuyama may tend to overuse the closeups which get zoomed onto the faces of the characters in sync with the music beats, but don't let the presentation fool you from watching a top notch film.

The Expendables

Action Figures

Forget about the naysayers, for action fans it's time to celebrate one of our wildest action film wet dream casting on screen with an ensemble of screen heroes uniting mostly in cooperative mode and collectively taking down faceless, nameless goons led by villains you know that are just going down for the count. It's Rambo and The Transporter with Wong Fei Hong amongst a pack of guns for hire in black operations, hired by anyone who comes with a bagful of dough and needs to get a dirty job done. It's the A-Team, only with an A-list membership consisting of some of the best action stars of our generation.

Who would've imagined that a film like this can be pulled off, since action stars usually like to marquee their own films for that ego boost of one versus impossible odds thrown their way. But never say never, and Sly Stallone as director managed to get the likes of Jason Statham and Jet Li as headliners, joined by Dolph Lundgren, Steve Austin, Randy Couture, Terry Crews, and speaking roles for Mickey Rourke, with Bruce Willis and even the Gov'nor Arnold Schwarzenegger making time to appear in an uncredited cameo, in a film where Sly had a role in crafting the screenplay, and the opportunity of being the unofficial leader of the pack.

Story wise, I've got to admit it's nothing but the bare basics in providing an excuse to put everyone together, and it balances some real world wish list such as the attack on Somali pirates alongside silver screen fantasy with the taking down of a dictatorship in a fictional island state that had gone rogue with what else but American bad influence and money, courtesy of the characters played by Eric Roberts and henchmen Austin. Somehow it's more fun to use the actors real names than the characters they play, since each individual have achieved larger than life status, and heck, it's just more fun that way.

Structurally, most of the action takes place in the beginning and the finale, while in between we get fillers such as the inevitable dramatic moments where we have to witness Stallone and Rourke reminisce their past lives and provides for a guilt trip to catalyze the mission, Statham having to wrestle a romantic relationship gone awry, and Stallone and Statham demonstrating their BFF status with their constant ribbing. It's logical of course that they feature together almost throughout the film given their primary star billing, with Statham given a rather sexier caricature boost as the user of knives, and boy does he let it rip.

Jet Li too has his own field day, although his fighting prowess has been dumbed down quite a bit from what we are used to, and just barely veering clear of being the butt of self-deprecating jokes that makes his character Ying Yang (seriously Sly, a better name please?) come across as money-centric to solve some unexplained family issues. As one of the leading names of the film, he has relatively significant screen time as well, with an action sequence involving himself, Stallone and Lundgren, and some wicked cooperative fisticuffs together with Statham, where they had twice been on opposite sides in films like The One and War/Rogue Assassin.

Action wise, it's unadulterated violence through and through, where the first shot ever fired in the film involves a complete separation of torso. The Expendables employ just about everything from cargo plans fitted with machine guns to van chases for variety, and having its characters equally adept at breaking limbs with basic martial arts, possessing edged weapons that dismembers, slices and dices, and mowing down opponents with a spectrum of rifles and machine guns that punctures bodies to look like cheese. Heck, even Stallone's character is a self-styled Caucasian equivalent of India's Quick Gun Murugun! Mind it!

In some ways I thought The Expendables followed what I felt was 80s styled Hong Kong action flicks where guns aside, there is always room for heroes go fist to fist with the villains during a finale. I'm not sure why some have said it's hard to figure out who's punching who, so seriously, don't sit so close to the screen. It's tough for an ensemble film to split screen time equally to allow everyone to shine and look good, and expectedly this outing is a little bit skewed toward the three main stars, and both Couture and Crews having just about a scene each to shine and demonstrate just what they can do.

But despite all the action and promise of explosive mayhem, the best scene hands down will be the meeting of minds between three iconic 80s/90s action heroes and rivals Stallone, Willis and Schwarzenegger in a church, with countless of comical references letting it fly between the three that it warrants a second viewing just to catch them all again. Never has anyone seen them sharing the same frame together, and this scene along is the money shot well worth the price of an admission ticket.

Now if a sequel is in the pipeline, can I say to include one of more of the following such as the Muscle from Brussels Jean Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal, Jackie Chan (hey, I believe Stallone and him are on first name basis), Sammo Hung, Kurt Russell, Donnie Yen, Dwayne Johnson, Collin Chou and having Bruce Willis do more than just talk? Man, it'll be action film wet dream come true again, part deux.

Japanese Film Festival Closing Film

It's 3 days to go to the start of the festival, and if you haven't got tickets yet, I think it's time you do.

Air Doll has its entire 3 screening run sold out, and the other films more likely to sell out soon will be Lalapipo which has sold out a screening and has another scheduled, and Fish Story which has a second screening as well. But hey, there are still many others available to choose from, and not to forget the FREE screenings too, if you turn up early at the venue.

Yuriko's Aroma director Yoshida Kota will be the guest this year, and it's just been announced that the closing film for this year's festival will be Sweet Little Lies, directed by Hitoshi Yazaki and starring Miki Nakatani (Memories of Matsuko). This 2010 film comes hot off the heels of July's Japan Cuts' Festival of Contemporary Japanese Cinema, where it made its US Premiere as the festival's closing film as well.

Tickets for Sweet Little LIes go on sale 18th August at 9am....
So What Are You Waiting For?

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