[Japanese Film Festival] How to Become Myself (あしたの私のつくり方 / Ashita No Watashi No Tsukurikata)

Let Me Tell You a Story

As this year's Japanese Film Festival Director-in-Attendance, Ichikawa Jun presented his latest movie, How to Become Myself, to the audience. The movie was produced in summer last year and was screened early this year in Japan. Ichikawa-san joked that given he's 60 years old next year, there may be some who will wonder why the movie touches on youth issues when the director himself is already so old! He also mentioned that we will see a lot of scenes with mobile phones and maybe he's not suitable to direct this kind of movie.

He believed that mobile phones are getting more popular in Japan and Japan does make a lot of the devices, but the main reason why he made this movie about young people is because he has a grand daughter of 4 years old, and he hopes that when she's 14 and watches the movie, if she gets cheered and encouraged, he will be happy. Delighted with the turnout for the movie, He revealed jovially that he felt tired at his age to be making movies about youth, and encouraged the audience to stay behind after the movie to share our views about it.

***

The latest offering by Ichikawa Jun reinforces my love and admiration for his movies. Having seen but just 4, I am tempted now to hunt down the others to continue the experience of movies that are lovely shot, and at a comfortable pace which doesn't seem to be in a hurry to tell a good story. I like how he weaves observations of humanity and brings them to the forefront of his movies, which at first glance, seem to be quite fluffy and a typical chick flick, which I will assure you this film is definitely not.

Based on a story by Kaori Mado, How to Become Myself touches base with what it means to understand oneself, and being very comfortable with it. To be honest, everyone plays different roles in different situations with different people encountered. I can be a brother, friend, soldier, employee, reviewer, son, and the list goes on, putting on different masks, being different persons, adopting various personae. With the advent of the Internet and anonymous profiles, what you can be, is limited only by your imagination. (And of course you've got perverts being totally something else altogether).

And in the many roles we play, how often do we stop and take stock - just who the heck am I? Who's the real me, and what's the "me" that I'm portraying for others to see and interact with? Bottomline is, are you being true to yourself and being honest about yourself with others? Or are you superficially role playing with nary an emotional attachment to the part? What I thought was neat was that the movie doesn't shove this thought down your throat, but rather played it out through the interaction between the leads. Subtlety is by far Ichikawa's strongest point in his movies (based on the 4 I've seen), and his pace of the movies allows you room enough to ponder as scenes transition and the narrative develops on screen.

Juri (Niko Narumi, you'll be amazed that she's only so young, but yet has the capability to take on a character that so layered and yet so subtle in her delivery) plays an ideal girl at home and in school, but this facade is quickly stripped away early in the movie, as we see her loathe her parent's bickering at home, while putting up a false front of a happy, supportive family to the outside world. In the movie, the spotlight is also shared by fellow classmate Hinako (Atsuko Maeda), a popular girl who in a twist of fate, becomes the victim of classroom politics and bullying. Mere acquaintances, they share a poignant conversation just after junior school graduation, before going their separate ways.

The story then fast forwards 2 years later, and Juri, out of curiousity, looks up and emails Hanako, who apparently doesn't seem to remember her, or their conversation. And thus begins a reintroduction and attempts to build a friendship between the two in what is probably one of the most layered stories I've experienced in recent times. It's almost like kueh-lapis, where each layer can be peeled apart and reveals another understanding at a different level. It tells of the story in three ways, through exchanges of email (more on this later), as the catalyst and fuel for creative writing, and of course, in the character's real lives. Juri and Hinako wear different masks to play different roles, consciously and subconsciously, and with each being a projection of their artificially created self, there's no denying just who's playing what role, and questions of whether they're relishing these roles are posed, and when do you know to stop and become yourself, truly?

Watching the narrative unfold was part of the fun, as techniques such as panel in panel, and split screens, are used to simultaneously present to the audience the different character's action / reaction at the same point in time. Not to mention that the shots are beautifully rendered, with text messages from mobile phones bringing to mind Eric Khoo's Be With Me. In true Ichikawa style, the pacing is deliberately slow, and the wonderful soundtrack comprises of eclectic pop tunes as well as quiet contemplative pieces, all of which I thought complimented the movie very well.

But what I really enjoyed when watching the movie, and how it connected with me, was the way it seemed like a dispenser of tips on love and the living of life. And this brings to mind the song Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen), which itself was based on an article written in the Chicago Tribune on 1st June 1997 by Mary Schmich titled "Advice, like youth, probably wasted on the young". I got the same feeling when reading the column (and re-reading it again) back in those days, listening to the song version of it, and now watching a series of events unfold on screen as one character projects her self onto another, as well as the aptly included commencement sequence. Sometimes things just click, and connects on a different level which appealed to me at least.

And now about that email exchange, I think it's prudent to bear in mind that the Japanese wireless telecommunications network is different from the GSM one that we're so used to. I've heard some puzzled expressions and comments about how it's possible to not know who is calling based on the Caller-ID, but I suppose that the Japanese network is already more highly advanced and developed than the GSM one, and sending an email through a phone is a piece of cake. So let's not confuse that with the sending of SMS, which obviously then this story, or how it panned out, wouldn't apply to places like ours. And yeah, I like their phones too, even though it's the girly model - there's something about the simplicity and minimalist look and feel about it (in the design, not features) that I'm impressed with.

How to Become Myself easily ranks amongst my favourite of Ichikawa Jun's movies to date, in addition to Tokyo Marigold. Highly recommended as it's a really good film all round!

[Japanese Film Festival] Tokyo Marigold (東京マリーゴールド / Tôkyô Marîgôrudo)

I'm Clueless

Director-in-Attendance Ichikawa Jun was again present to introduce Tokyo Marigold, his 15th film. He shared that he had made films for 20 years, and tomorrow's screening of How to Become Myself is his 20th film, therefore he's been making about one film a year!

There are 3 movies to date that he had made containing the title "Tokyo" - Tokyo Lullaby, Tokyo Siblings, and Tokyo Marigold. He's born in Tokyo and has lived in the city ever since, and therefore liked it very much. The first two movies were nostalgia movies, based on the Tokyo of old, while today's movie is more contemporary and about today's Tokyo, tackling the life of a contemporary Japanese girl.

***

Based on a novel by Hayashi Mariko, Tokyo Marigold would currently rank as my favourite of 3 Jun Ichikawa movies I've seen to date. It's a contemporary look at modern day relationships, following the protagonist, Eriko Sakai (Rena Tanaka) in her very strange proposal and arrangement with Tamura (Yukiyoshi Ozawa).

Meeting in a blind group date, they start off as platonic friends, before dating casually, and while we know that Eriko is single and lonely (suspend your disbelief here, as if pretty women don't experience that sometimes?), Tamura is awaiting the return of his girlfriend from America. As we hear of horror stories involving long distance relationships and the relatively higher propensity to cheat on each other, Eriko and Tamura go deeper into their relationship and enter the next stage, except that their contract stems from a strange agreement that Eriko sets, that Tamura be her boyfriend for just one year, before his girlfriend returns to Japan.

It's hard to think that someone would already place a finite duration on a relationship, to put an end firmly in sight. In what could be to counter their loneliness experienced in a metropolitan city, this temporal relationship start to take its toil on both parties - one taking the other for granted, while the other trying her best to make the most of that one year. You wonder if such a relationship based on triviality would prevail, as it's something that seemed doomed from the very start to begin with.

But under Ichikawa Jun's direction, the surface is always very beautiful, and again some hallmarks which I thought made Tokyo Marigold extremely enjoyable to sit through, despite its darker undertones. It has an excellent soundtrack of pop tunes, and he managed to, given that it's somewhat an ode to the city he resides in, infuse scenes of everyday Tokyo, including familiar landmarks, without making them intrude forcefully into the narrative.

The strengths in the movie however, rests on 3 points in my opinion, otherwise it may seem like a typical modern day romance tale. First, a very brief scene involving baseball, and I liked how it was developed to provide that strong punch toward the end. Sometimes in life we get thrown a stinker, often not when we're anticipating it nor given a choice. What do you do? Catch it, make do what you can, and very quickly, toss a curveball back and move on. You will not be put down you say? Yes, and similarly that scene where Eriko watches herself in the ad, does provide that little uplifting feeling of hope. The other strength in the movie, is Rena Tanaka's portrayal of Eriko. The pixie-faced actress superbly brought out her frailty, struggles, and naiveness with much aplomb, that you can't help but to root for her, even though you know that her suffering is of her own making, based on a bad decision and choice made. And lastly, the tangerine monologue (well, since Tamura isn't really paying attention) is well worth the price of an admission ticket for the subtleties contained within on perceptions, anticipation and expectations.

Tokyo Marigold's ending too was quite moving, containing a bittersweet ending, together with a sense of victory, yet with a tinge of that sorry feeling. It allows both camps - those who wishes for her to move on, and those who don't, avenues to interpret the events outside what was in the film, and in that aspect, satisfies whichever direction that floats your boat. But I would like to sit on the fence (maybe because of personal experience), that one knows and can speculate with great accuracy what had happened, look back, reminisce and appreciate that one year, and probably nothing more. In that sense, Tokyo Marigold worked for me, thoroughly.

[Japanese Film Festival] Dying at a Hospital (病院で死ぬということ / Byoin De Shinu Toiukoto)

Ichikawa Jun is this year's Director-in-Attendance for the Japanese Film Festival, and he was at the auditorium today, ahead of his scheduled appearance this Thursday for the masterclass session, to present an older film which he made more than 10 years ago. Saying a few words in Japanese to the audience, he shared that Dying at a Hospital was his 6th film, and that he was grateful to be in Singapore for the screening of his movies, before mentioning that he won't be staying through to the end of today's session, to grab some dinner during the movie.

***

I'm eagerly awaiting to watch the other Ichikawa Jun movies because the only one I've seen to date is Tony Takitani. The styles used in Takitani and Dying at a Hospital are no less at opposite ends of the spectrum. Takitani had the camera constantly flowing, if I recall correctly, from left to right, as if turning the pages of a book, and provided a somewhat natural scene transition. But in Dying, the camera stays so still, it's like watching a stage play unfold right in front of you, and fade to black transitions, for almost all scenes, was the preferred technique used.

Ichikawa captured the feel of a hospital succinctly. Recently, there was talk by our Health Minister with regards to allowing people to die at home, versus spending their last days in the confines of an institution, and I thought this film would have backed that reasoning perfectly. I've had my fair share of stays in hospitals / medic wards in my younger days, and it's no fun being in that environment. Watching the movie, it brought back memories when I was visited by doctors for Q&A and nurses for the periodic miscellaneous checks and pill popping, and being hooked up to a drip was no fun, especially when you need to go to the bathroom. In a public ward, sometimes you do see the frail and the very weak, and family members shuffling into and out of the wards come visiting hours, some with tears in their eyes. Despite its sterile environment, there's somehow this overhanging sense of sadness looming around the corner.

It's a mixture of fictional narrative short stories, interspersed with non-fictional documentary styled shots of various random scenes depicting the whizzing by of everyday life, outside of the hospital of course. It's as if you're witness to the struggles that the sick and the dying face within the four walls, while time waits for nobody. The short stories too were different from one another, involving an elderly couple who wished to stay together in sickness and in health, a vagrant who was picked up on the street, whose story was quite cold and sad in that there's obviously no instances where there are visitors made up on friends and family, and I particularly liked the story which served as the closing - an extremely touching piece. All the short stories are self-contained, but when strung together in a movie like this, provides a kaleidoscope issues you'd come to expect from a typical day at the hospital, especially when the narration (is it a hallmark of Ichigawa movies?) comes from different perspectives, which included doctors, patients and even nurses.

A quiet, contemplative piece with a sense of hope in its closing remarks, you seldom see the facial expressions of the characters up close, as the camera mimics the usual distance one would most times keep from the other patients (at least for me, for reasons unknown), in curious to know more, but yet want to maintain that emotional detachment.

[Japanese Film Festival] The Sting of Death (死の棘 / Shi no Toge)

Having sat through a weekend of the Japanese Film Festival so far, The Sting of Death got an unceremoniously high number of walk outs. I'm somewhat curious about how this movie got selected to fit into the theme of this year's festival of true.romance, because it really looked a little out of place, or anti-themed, with its grappling on the stark emotions of betrayal and lack of trust.

The movie opens, and for the next 15 minutes, we see a couple in conversation, but their body language is awkward. We see a lady, but we hear a man in the room too, and while both are obviously talking to each other, they do not have the other in their line of sight. As the camera reveals a little more, we see the house in a little disarray, suggesting a fight of sorts taking place earlier. As they go further in their conversation, we slowly realize that here's a woman who has confronted her husband on his infidelity, and finding the truth a bitter pill that is hard to swallow.

With escalating quarrels and fights getting more violent, it's always the case that the children will be the ones who suffer. Toshio (Ittoku Kishibe) and Miho's (Keiko Matsuzaka) kids know what is happening (yes, kids actually know), and are always found to be torn between the parents. But I guess despite their differences, they have probably decided to stick to each other for the sake of their children, while working out the demons between them. Ironing out the problems posed by infidelity is tricky, because it involves re-establishing trust which had been broken before, and there is no guarantee that it won't be broken again. And it is precisely this insecurity that Miho fails to address, despite constant assurances by her husband.

On that premise alone, The Sting of Death held promise. We tear out our hair together with Miho as she begins her descent, when all things appear fine, she'll rake up something about the past to ask Toshio, knowing very well that whatever answer she'll get, will hurt her deep down. Until Toshio refuses to play the game, and finds life getting a lot tougher, and Miho a lot more difficult to handle.

Technically, this was a good film, with its minimalist sound providing avenues for other more subtle noises to come through, like the dripping tap which drives you nuts with its constant "drip... drip... drip". But it's not an easy film to sit through, not only because of its content repetitive material and scenes which wash-rinse-repeats Miho doubting Toshio, questioning him, scenes of abuse and challenge, reconciliation, then repeat, but also because it moves so slowly, if at all. Somehow I tend to believe that my reliance on the subtitles didn't manage to bring out the intricate dialogue between the spouses, especially when they start to mince their words and lace them with sarcasm.

Offhand I can't recall a movie that dealt with the issue of infidelity within a marriage more sharply than this, and by bringing home this point, this film has earned its badge of merit. Reminder: Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and all parties suffer through moments of folly.

[Japanese Film Festival] Inochi (命)

Happy Family

The Japanese/Mandarin title of Inochi reads "Life", and the movie is about the circle of life from birth to death. It's quite an unconventional love story based on the book by writer Yu Miri, and Inochi is based on her experiences, though the themes presented are nothing short of universal.

It's a complex relationship between Miri and playwright Higashi Yukata. For starters, they once dated, but are no longer a couple. Next, Miri is pregnant, but the child belongs to a married man, with whom she decides to end the relationship with. In a desperate need for help and advice, she turns to Higashi her ex lover, and together, they embark on a journey of life, with the coming of her child, while anticipating the grim reaper, when Higashi is discovered to be in the late stages of cancer.

I can identify with the cadaver attitude that Higashi has toward death, especially when you're young and have the feeling of invulnerability. Death always seem so far away, but alas his decadent lifestyle turns to be disastrous. One sometimes have lofty ideals about facing death, but ultimately it's the adage that when we don't cry when we don't see the coffin, holding true.

A somewhat powerful love story of missed opportunities and what ifs, and the fact that life should be cherished versus carelessly throwing it all away. This is something that Miri learns when she decides to keep the baby, and probably on hindsight no regrets in doing so, and for Higashi, lamenting that he no longer has good health to care for someone else, and reminisce the fact that there is so much sacrificed and experiences that he will no longer be a part of or feel for.

Inochi has a stark balance between issues of life and death, doom and gloom, but somehow in its darkness, there's always a sliver of hope running through it. I at least started to root for the good things, for that miracle you sometimes read about when someone beats the odds against terminal stage cancer. There's no silver bullet, but an array of positive experiences and drugs that somehow might prove to be the winning combination. Director Tetsuo Shinohara managed to find that delicate balance, while at the same time not stifling the narrative, finding ample room to insert the brief, but highly effective backstory during when Miri and Higashi were a couple.

Beautifully shot and recommended for romantics. And that cute baby smiling, worked a lot of wonders too.

[Japanese Film Festival] Lost in the Wilderness (植村直己物語 / Uemura Naomi Monogatari)

Scaling The Highest Peaks

Watching Lost in the Wilderness would have undoubtedly bring about comparisons to our very own adventurer Khoo Siew Chiow, who is the fourth person in the world to date to complete The Adventure Grand Slam, which is to conquer the highest peaks in all the 7 continents, and cross the North and South Poles. A bio-pic of sorts of Japanese adventurer Uemura Naomi, this movie traces his professional life and his exploits, while at the same time, focusing on issues which I'd bet Khoo probably had faced as well, making you wonder if these issues are universal ones in which almost every adventurer will face at one point or another during their career.

Uemura is an interesting character. He's soft spoken on the outside, but inside he has this lion's courage and dogged determination to push the boundaries of physical and mental limitations. He's alone for most of his exploits, but this is more of a choice as he attempts his solo ascents and treks. Not that he's not a team player, contrary to that, he's an excellent one, subscribing to the mantra of leaving no man behind. He's the one you can count on in your team never to give up. A bad experience with an international group made him swear off joining forces, because with groups come egos and petty bickering easily erupts when ideas and opinions differ. So henceforth a solo adventurer is born, whose challenges need to get bigger to satisfy his addiction for trotting the less travelled paths.

And we know just how expensive these challenges can get, given Khoo's own experiences and appeals for funding too. This movie also chronicled this difficult expect, and presented arguments which are always to surface - why are we providing public funds to fuel the dreams of a solo aim, versus providing the same amount of money for other more worthy, and more public causes? As the complexity of the challenge increases, exorbitant amounts of money is required for the adventurer's preparation, and most importantly, logistics. Also, it doesn't always translate to success, as you can see from Khoo's personal exploits too, like the abandoned missions of climbing Everest without oxygen, or to swim across the English Channel. Do we need to provide funds to satisfy personal vanity projects, or do this projects put us on the world map, saying that we "can" too?

Then there is the plight of the family. Uemura woos his wife with aplomb, but you can see that change in character within himself - taking her for granted, and of course, being away for extended periods of time. While his wife laments in private about her married life, this is probably something that every adventurer has to look into, and I guess Khoo's wife has always maintained her support for her husband when he embarks on these quests, which often are dangerous. The love story in Lost in the Wilderness gets itself lost though, as events as told in the movie doesn't go deep into its theme, not at least until toward the end, where Umemura breaks his promise and insists on going for his final ascent. It does make one ponder whether to these guys, it's adventure first, or family commitment taking priority, and I like to warrant a guess that often, the decision is difficult.

Nonetheless this movie is as easy to follow as any typical bio-pic, and director Junya Sato has managed to capture the essence of adventuring - loneliness (at being at the top of your game), wit and sheer perserverance - in its "action" sequences, without the need to be repetitive, and one of the best bits are to observe his innovative ideas, pertaining to logistics (given that there's an upper limit to personal encumbrance) and the dealing with unseen crevices. In tribute to the one man's determination, the end credits roll off a series of his achievements.

You can read more about Uemura Naomi here.

[Japanese Film Festival] Faraway Sunset (遠き落日 / Toki Rakujitsu)

When I was young, I had placed my hand at a door hinge, and without realizing, my mom slammed the door shut. Naturally the door cannot close, I felt no pain and didn't scream, my mom wondered whether the door was faulty, until we both realized that one of my fingernails was completed smashed in. Then the pain set in, I screamed my lungs out, and the look on my mother's face and reaction, was completely the same as that of Noguchi Hideyo's.

Faraway Sunset tells the story of the famed bacteriologist who is known to have discovered the agent that cause syphilis, and for his relentless search for a cure to yellow fever. As a toddler, his mother's neglect had caused an accident to his left hand, fusing together all the fingers in a bizarre twist of fate. Naturally extremely remorseful for being the cause of her son's handicap, she does everything she could to ensure that he gets to lead a normal life, despite having to fend off bullies and unfair prejudices.

If you're wondering if the movie provides you any insights to his professional life, then you, like me, would be disappointed. That part of his life is only glossed over quite quickly, and what's the main meat in Faraway Sunset, is the human drama and personal relationships with the different ladies in Noguchi Hideyo's life. Chiefly, it centers on that with his mother, having her cause his handicap, but more than making up for it, as she is probably the main player in getting to wake his idea up, reminding him of the promises he made to achieve his dreams. The other ladies on focus are a fellow Japanese student who spurns his love he has for her every step of the way, and I suspect this is due more to his handicap than anything else. A good loooker no doubt, but one who looks ugly on he inside. And finally you have his American wife, played by Julie Dreyfuss, but in a role that is pretty much a cameo by any standards.

But what is inspiring about the character of Noguchi Hideyo, even if you slowly start to loathe his ways, is that he's a go getter who doesn't know when to stop, nor is able to take no for an answer. Relentless in his pursuit either in his love life or his professional objectives, he bugs and begs to be accepted, and has a skin that is extremely thick in order to open his mouth for favours and loans, more often than not, succeeding of course.

What I didn't like though, was his triumphant return to Japan. In an effort to gain respect back home where he was despised, he had to make a name for himself worldwide, before deciding to trudge on home soil. And what I thought was particularly unfilial, was that he left the visit of his mom to the very last, after meeting up with politicians, businessmen, and check this, celebrities. What gives? I felt you should give priority to the lady who sacrificed big time for you, and one who has been bearing the responsibility in trying to make things right within her limited ability.

The pace of the movie treads real slow, and told in pseudo-docu style when his professional life is touched upon. As mentioned, the human drama factor takes centerstage here, and Mother's Love cannot be any more than emphasized by the time the end credits rolled.

[Japanese Film Festival] Hachiko (ハチ公物語 / Hachiko Monogatari)

It Shall Not Be Moved

Dog movies are a dime a dozen, and you can probably name a few out of the USA or Japan. There are many fictional ones that some might believe did exist (not the breed of course), but here's a story of one which really did, and in its lifetime earned the admiration of people around, enough to build a statue of it too! The Hachiko Exit of Tokyo's subway Shibuya Station stands a Hachiko the dog statue, in remembrance of its unwavering loyalty to its master.

Hachiko is an Akita dog born in Odate, Akita Prefecture, and this is ample opportunity for the filmmakers to insert as many cutesy shots of puppies as possible, with their natural playfulness and inquisitive nature earning plenty of "awwws" from the audience. The birth of Hachiko and its siblings is probably one of the best I've seen - or make that the only one I've seen to date, with an actual birth sequence being captured on film - I didn't know they come out that small!

But Hachiko's life seemed destined for hardship from the start. And this somewhat serves as a warning to those in the audience with an inkling of getting themselves a puppy after watching the show. As with any pet, it comes with commitment - you commit to taking care of it, and it will more than often do the same for you too, especially when it's a dog (they aren't called Man's Best Friend) for nothing. In the beginning, a young girl promises to care for the Hachiko, but as we all learn soon enough, this is but an empty promise as she "abandons" it even before it set foot into the home, and given that nobody in the household is keen on keeping it, the responsibility laid with the head of the household.

And thus a strong relationship between owner and dog was forged, one that involved amongst others, the dog accompanying the master to the train station, and dutifully waiting for his arrival at the station after work. This probably sealed its legend as it was unwavering with the dog being there come rain, shine, or snow. But the other half of the movie centered on more melodrama, one which I thought was having almost everything except the kitchen sink thrown at the dog's direction. Abandonment is cruel, and that is chiefly what it focused on. There was a particularly powerful scene that the professor's wife (who once was jealous of the attention Hachiko got from her spouse) denied having direct ownership with Hachiko, and that really hurt. Not to mention during one of the finale shots where you see again, hypocrisy at play.

But too much of something makes it nauseatingly sick. The finale tended to drag too long, and the story was determined to drum Hachiko's sad life into you once its honeymoon years were over. And the supporting characters during this stage, were more like caricatures, popping up now and then to regurgitate the same old lines and expressions of pity. And no self respecting dog movie will be without a de-facto scene of the dog running towards the owner from afar in slow motion. There is such a scene here too, which made me roll my eyeballs.

Despite its two-part act, Hachiko is still a rather enjoyable movie about a dog who can't let go, pining for the love of its master. Loyalty, friendship, and trust are the hallmarks of such movies. Now only if the pop song played during the end credits didn't ruin it all.

For more information about Hachiko, you can click on this link.

Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain DVD Commentary Track

Our Love Is Forever

Those who have bought the DVD of Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain will probably like to hear what the director has to say about his film. Unfortunately there is none available, until now.

In conjuction with his revamped web presence, Aronofsky has put up a commentary track online at his website which you can listen to when you play that DVD, but wait, even if you don’t have the disc, what are you waiting for?

Wait no longer, click on this link.

My review of The Fountain can be found here.

[Japanese Film Festival] Ballad of Narayama (楢山節考 / Narayama Bushiko)

She Ain't Heavy She's My Mother

It's not difficult to understand why Ballad of Narayama won the Palme d'Or in 1983. Beautifully filmed and probably just about having a little something for everyone, I felt that this was without a doubt the best of the Shohei Imamura movies shown today to commemorate his passing last year, and on what would have been a celebration of his birthday should he still be alive today.

Like the timeless setting in The Profound Desire of the Gods, Imamura's story, a reinterpretation of the book Men of Tohoku by Fukuzawa Shichiro, takes place ambiguously "100 years ago" within a self-supporting nomad group of villagers atop a mountain, where tribal life, ritualistic and tightly knit, involves a peculiar practice when one reaches the age of 70. There's forceful retirement, where the elderly has to ascend Narayama and live out the rest of the days there. The mountain top is the senior citizen's home, and everyone dutifully follows this without question.

And I'd like to reflect on this particular point before dwelling on the others. Watching Ballad brings to mind the thought of death, and how would one decide how to go meet the maker. There's absolutely nothing worse than anticipating the coming of death, or to the point of sadism, to actually add a catalyst to it. The final 30 minutes is nothing short of powerful, where son Tatsuhei (Ken Ogata) journeys with mother Orin (Sumiko Sakamota) up the incline. It balances the stoic, unspoken bonds (one of the conditions in the ascent is to maintain silence) of love with the coming of the reaper with every step inching closer to the summit where the gods are, set against beautiful mountainous scenery. My words fall short of describing this awesome moment, and it's something you just have to see for yourself. And with that, comes the point of dying with dignity. If I choose to go, that's the way I would prefer too, rather than screaming, kicking up a fuss, and cursing everyone else.

The movie follows through this anticipation of the journey with preparation, and showcases the life of Orin and her family, which is nothing short of entertaining with the many facets thrown in. It's drama, comedy and loads of sex in the veins of the 40 Year Old Virgin, but these are basically there as Orin tries her best to tie up loose ends and puts in place some continuity within her family members before her time is up. Things like taking an involvement to ensure one of her sons doesn't stay a virgin (this bit is just plain hilarious with the way it was developed), and with lots of love, teaching her daughter-in-law how to provide for the family.

It's curious to note that Imamura has plenty of National Geographic like shots of various animals, like snakes, toads, owls and crows, and more often than not, showing them in various stages of copulation, or worse, devouring one another. These shots are used as fillers, as if to either remind you before or after a scene, that when boiled down to basics, we are still animals with our primal instincts still very much intact. And if we're left to our own community devices, mob justice, just like the one in Profound, is often very brutal with emotions running high, and this particular thread, including the cunning involvement of Orin, was one that I found quite hard to sit through - the motivation for a daughter-in-law (one that she didn't approve of) was basically to provide for her own kin, but the stark punishment met out, in my opinion, unforgettable, unforgivable, and very excessive.

Ballad of Narayama deserves every accolade bestowed upon it, and amongst the Imamura movies seen to date, this is something that I would recommend without hesitation. Forget the synopsis which made it sound boring, the real deal is within the film itself.

Pussy Worship

[Japanese Film Festival] Vengeance Is Mine (復讐するは我にあり/ Fukushû Suruwa Wareniari)

Looking Down

Shohei Imamura's multi award winning film Vengeance is Mine follows after the dismal performance of The Profound Desire of the Gods, this time being a film that is more accessible. Based on a novel which follows the life of crime of real-life criminal Iwao Enokizu (played by Ken Ogata), at one time the most wanted man in Japan for his series of murders, this was probably my favourite movie today, until I watched Imamura's Palme d'Or winner Ballad of Narayama.

It's no surprise that this is something more conventional, given that it plays out narratively in retrospect, and that audiences sure like something that is based on real life. I thought it unfurled similarly to Catch Me If You Can, except that while Frank Abignale Jr was once a conman, defrauding banking institutions and adopting various identities, Iwao Enokizu was a killer first, and conman second, assuming identities to obtain cash for basic necessities, and for pleasurable moments to satisfy his lust for flesh.

The story seeks to discover his motivation and rationale for a life in crime, and goes way back to when Enokizu was a child, and hating his father for being weak in standing up against oppressors (in truth, there is little he can actually do except to lose his life if he doesn't comply). Hatred also bred deeper when his father is a religious hypocrite, obviously sinning against Enokizu with the lust for his wife Kazuko (Mitsuko Baisho, who's a dead ringer for Hong Kong actress Cherie Chung), and strangely enough, for Kazuko to fall heads over heals for the old man too. This father-son dynamics, like in Catch Me If You Can, pops up now and then through the story to remind you of the beginnings of the feud, except that there is absolutely no love between the two of them.

I thought Ken Ogata is enigmatic on screen, with his crazed antics as the killer on the loose, and his suave demeanour when posing as a professor and a lawyer. There's this mean streak within that glint in the eye, and surely, this is one man you definitely would not want to cross. For the most parts of the story, it deals with the love between his Enokizu and an inn manager Haru (Mayumi Ogawa), who falls in love with devotion of blind faith, and the happenings within the confines of that inn. What I thought was a bit difficult to sit through though, was the violence against women in the movie, with the constant slapping across the cheek (and I notice this too in the other Imamura films), and some included rape.

But the theme that took the cake was the one on religious hypocrisy as personified by Enokizu's father Shizuo (Rentaro Mikuni), and really, this is the kind of dads, or persons that you'll love to hate. Preaching something and practicing another, you wonder whether Enokizu would seek him out for revenge, since it seemed like Shizuo was indeed Iwao's most hated person on earth, rather than work on his victims by chance.

Vengeance of Mine is full of nudity, sex and gratuitous violence, which gave it an R21 rating for today's uncut screening. Simple to follow, and definitely enjoyable by fans who have a preference for true life crime stories. Some of the actors here become familiar faces when they get casted again in the next movie, Ballad of Narayama, and I thought Vengeance was a nice way of introducing those actors to us first.

[Japanese Film Festival] Black Rain (黒い雨 / Kuroi Ame)

WWII movies are a dime a dozen, and so are many movies which touch on the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. Japan still remains the only unfortunate victim of an actual bombing incident using atomic/nuclear weapons, and I suppose any movie that touches on this topic out of Japan, deserves a watch for the perspective it brings. Black Rain is no different.

Based on the novel by Masuji Ibuse, Black Rain referred to the rain which fell just after the mushroom cloud ballooned, and because of the high radioactivity content in the atmosphere, what fell from the sky was actually contaminated, and was reportedly black in colour. But the film isn't a meteorological exercise, but rather one which is rather rich in its drama on the sufferings of both the direct and indirect victims of the A-bomb, as well as the psychological scars inflicted upon, and endured by surviving soldiers of the war.

Putting its fulcrum on lead character Yasuko (Yoshiko Tanaka), who was near Hiroshima enough for the black rain to fall upon her, it tells of the prejudice everyone else has of her. Faced with social discrimination which hinders her ability to get married, and worse, the need to be isolated into a small village of survivors from the A-bomb, it tells of the horrors of war of the worse kind, and that's the aftermath despise one has to suffer through to the end of one's natural life. Though the village she resides in has interesting characters who encourage one another and keep the spirits up, there is always an overhanging ominous feel to the place, as one by one the inhabitants have to face up to the inevitable.

It's not always doom and gloom in the movie, as it does provide some avenue for much needed comedy to elevate the depressing mood. But the more powerful scenes were those in the beginning. While not possessing snazzy special effects to recreate the events on the tragic day, its simplicity brought the message and visuals out vividly enough. There is no big bang, but rather a lone bomb parachuting down is adequate to send down chills of the unfortunate and expected. The direct victims as portrayed here were the most realistic (even when watched today) of many films that I've seen, and the reminders are to the point and stark.

But the flaws in this black and white movie was the degeneration of the narrative into serious melodrama which for the most parts dragged on for just too long. Clocking just over 2 hours, it actually felt a lot more, and I thought if it could have tightened up the pace a bit with the exclusion of some unnecessary scenes involving too many side characters, and should also have kept focus instead on a select few to support the main lead.

Black Rain though serves its point, in being an anti-war / nuclear bomb movie, and boy does it actually inflict a test of your patience to finish watching it.

[Japanese Film Festival] Eijanaika (ええじゃないか)

The opening film of this year's Japanese Film Festival, Shohei Imamura's Eijanaika was a mixed bag, but the opening is one to behold. Very noisy and extremely boisterous and colourful, there's a carnival like atmosphere in visiting the street markets, with its strange and curious looking circus like performers (see a snake being eaten alive, I kid you not), and others like a peep show for dirty old men.

Like the noisy nature of the street market, what I found distracting with Eijanaika is its lack of focus. Set during the time just before the Meiji Restoration, with the grip of Shoguns going into decline, and with foreign powers already set foot on the land of the rising sun, it has many facets on the corrupt ways and the power play between warlords, scheming and plotting against each other to gain a foothold of fame and fortune.

But anchoring the movie is the theme of love between the characters Genji (Shigeru Izumiya) and Ine (Kaori Momoi), though it's a strange love, which only gets weirder once it addresses its issue on jealousy, and embarks on a journey of manipulation, and sacrifice. Genji has spent 6 years in America, and upon arrival in Japan, finds himself like a fish out of water. He looks up his abandoned wife Genji, who is now a top performing showgirl in one of those peep shows, being sold against her wishes to a master, and has to pay off her debt. But this master-performer relationship might be more than meets the eye as Genji finds out, given her reluctance to leave with him and follow a dream of carving out a new life in America.

Somehow you'll loathe Ine's character, that slowly and surely you discover that she's quite a loose woman, using her charms and body to exact her wishes. But you doubt her true love for Genji no longer when you witness the amount of crap she has to go through for her man, despite his being unappreciative of the fact initially (though it's hard of course). Living a new life and going out of her comfort zone might be too much for the unskilled Ine, and perchance that's why the spurning of Genji's dream to live abroad, going back to where he came from and had experienced.

Like I mentioned, the narrative felt a bit too scattered with many characters and subplots, involving diabolical scheming no less, to give it a easier flow to follow. But appreciated was the fact that Imamura had instilled within the film some physical comedy involving a band of robbers, who after experiencing the success of their first hit, couldn't conceal their addiction for more.

The finale reminded me of Paprika, with plenty of song, dance, color and sheer shenanigans, involving mooning and peeing (this you just gotta see), but I thought it lost the plot with its firing on all cylinders on all parts of the target, rather than zooming in on critical areas and grouping the shots.

The Invasion

Peeping

It seems like Nicole Kidman's The Invasion is something like a tit-for-tat response to ex Mr Nicole Kidman's War of the Worlds. Aliens from outer space, check. Estranged spouse (the cinematic one that is), check. Cute toddler kid, check. Being the only one who figures what could be going on, check. Lots of running, check. Single parent power, check. Having people clamour on your escape vehicle, check. Cop out Hollywood styled ending mocking the aliens, check. Pointless remake? Probably not, and that's its leg up against the tripods.

The Invasion is an update to the many movies based on Jack Finney's novel The Body Snatchers, and the last movie I can remember about the same was the one starring Garbrielle Anwar (that beautiful lady who tango-ed with Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman, and together like Chris O'Donnell, has already faded from the limelight). At its core the story's about how alien lifeforms start to take control of human beings by being their doppelgangers, and with behaviour like a Stepford Wife, it's definitely not appreciated by those who value their freedom and the ability to choose.

The movie did try to elevate itself from the run of the mill thrillers, in putting in not so sublime anti-war-anti-terror messages. In its cinematic world, the war on Iraq is over with the US troop pullout, and the Koreas get unified. That's because the aliens have taken over and taught us truly what world peace is all about. And therein lies the issue - if we're beings who strive for the greater good, why not let the aliens take over, instead of resisting and insisting on continuing our flawed existence? A human utopia is impossible, given our human nature to suspect, fight, and kill each other. Borg-like assimilation however, we cannot accept.

So Nicole Kidman's psychiatrist Carol Bennell and Daniel Craig's doctor Ben Driscoll (who looks just very Blond here in bland Bond like moments) seem to be the few who would take a long time being found out to be puny humans, and battle it out with the aliens in a hide and seek cat and mouse game, together with cute kid Jackson Bond as Carol's son Oliver. You cannot sleep, and you cannot show emotion, lest you be pinned down, given a taste of a tazer, turn into a cocoon and wake up a new person.

The movie does have its fair share of excitable moments, contrary to what I would have believed from other opinions of the movie, and there are genuine, effective jump at your seat episodes. While Craig is bland, Nicole Kidman is reason enough to watch the movie as firstly, she illuminates the screen with her gorgeous poise, even when she's trying to be robot like, or running around with kid in tow frantically trying to save their souls from zombie-like humans, who thankfully subscribe to the George A Romero model rather than the 28 Days/Weeks one (though I would have loved to see more energetic aliens takeover than the docile world-peace loving ones here).

My greatest beef with the show however, is how everything must be ended nicely, bright sunshine and all. Woefully typical, instead of my personal preference for an apocalyptic styled one. Perhaps therein lies the belief that we humans can provide the fix for our flaws, in good time to come, as Carol Bennell so confidently states early in the movie.

SiCKO

I'm Looking for Free!

Won't we like to visit a doctor, and be provided preventive advice during a regular checkup. Or how about instead of worrying just how much those consultation charges are going to be, we get a world class doctor who basically just cares and is genuinely concerned with our well-being, and getting us cured of our sickness?

That's the kind of feeling you get when watching Michael Moore's latest documentary SiCKO. While he rages on and uncovers the deficiencies in the US healthcare system, he waxes lyrical about the free healthcare systems of various countries, while at the same time, comparing how doctors under different systems fare. We all know that doctors make a lot of money, but some make a lot of money because they are specialists and charge sky high fees for their services, that you can't help but wonder if it's money over patients. Then again, in what is termed the socialist medicine model, where doctors are akin to civil servants, being paid a fixed salary with variable components tagged to the welfare of the patients, you wonder too if that is probably a better system altogether, that those genuinely want to heal people, get into the profession, and those who want to make money, well, go work at the pharmaceutical companies.

In any case, Moore dresses his documentary up in his usual sexy manner. He again drums up and creates a rally behind his objectives, and it's easy to fall prey to his viewpoint. There are merits to the better models he presented, or how non profit organizations, for the love of healing folks, can come up with 24hr on-call services, truly making healthcare not only affordable, but within physical reach. And he contrasts this with the cold, calculated way in which Americans are treated.

And there's the flaw with privatizing healthcare, leaving it into the hands of, god forbid, insurance companies. It's almost common sense that premiums are always easy to pay, provided you satisfy many of the pre-conditions, but when it comes to the claim, that's where the real problem starts, as you'd come to expect delays, challenges, combing the fine print for some ambiguous clause just to starve you off any legitimate payback. I seriously hope we don't get our monies trapped in such schemes (ahem, annuities?). And when we're talking about life and death, it's ideal to leave little room for contracts and negotiations - life takes priority.

In that sense where security and education comes into play, we leave it to the powers that be, and shouldn't healthcare be so as well? Short of labelling it as the restriction of freedom and choice as some would have it argued, it actually comes with widespread social acceptance, and of course, taxes. You must be willing to pay to receive subsidized, or even free benefits. Otherwise, where do all these funds come from? And this is where Moore conveniently skips, or mentions in extremely brief passing. There's no such thing as a free lunch, though neither is it a zero sum game, and there will be two sides carved out - those who just want to enjoy the benefits without contributing to it, and those who resent paying for someone else's welfare. Not everyone can be like the Canadians :) Different strokes for different folks, depending on which set of values one subscribes to.

So as Moore uncovers ideal benefits in the healthcare systems in the UK, France, Canada and even Cuba, he doesn't address the other social ills and resentment that comes along with it. But of course, since this is a documentary, and naturally the points that make the final cut must all support the filmmaker's vision. If compared to his earlier works, SiCKO comes across as more mature though, with its sexy arguments made against a very serious presentation and tone, void of all the quirky animations, and have rather limited snark remarks, not that they're not present.

But the best bits about it, is how he pieces together the corruption in the whole system, including those in seats of power. As we know, some politicians can be persuaded with funds to assist in their respective lobbies, and it is no surprise where these healthcare insurance companies put their money on. Politicians on payrolls, in a nice way, are nothing new. And seriously, nobody can fault a private enterprise into achieving its prime objective in a market economy, and that is to maximize profits. Money can be used to cover the heart and soul, so why not use it to an advantage.

SiCKO is crafted shrewdly in the hands of Moore, and frankly, brought its points out rather well. The much anticipated Guantanamo Bay excursion though was much ado about nothing, given the widespread publicity of the potential trouble Moore might get into. But the real gem of the movie though, is the lesson on how to shape one's arguments - place incessant focus on the good parts to debunk what currently doesn't work, because the bigger picture will always be able to puncture arguments presented within a 2 hour picture. It's never easy to find a right balance for any social issue, or life for that matter.

I just have to make sure, as I told a friend, that I have a plan on what to do if I'm diagnosed with a serious condition, given rising health care costs here as well. And by the looks of it increasing in time to come, the plan definitely includes the reluctance to line the coffers of the doc treating me.

The Sun Also Rises (太陽照常升起)

I Need an MC

Jiang Wen's latest movie The Sun Also Rises consists of 4 shorts which make up the entire movie, told in a fragmented narrative. I thought that its individual parts were stronger than all of them put together, and felt that it was a fantastical piece that transcended space and time when you try to piece it together when they come full circle.

Strengths in this film are the scenery, which needed 3 cinematographers to capture, its score, and the veteran actors in Jiang Wen himself, Anthony Wong and Joan Chen, while Jaycee Chan surprisingly held his own against the three, portraying with much earnestness his role as a village boy.

To read my review of The Sun Also Rises at movieXclusive.com, click on the logo below:

[World Cinema Series] The Profound Desire of the Gods (神々の深き欲望 Kamigami no Fukaki Yokubo) (1968)

First of all, a public service announcement as usual. The National Museum is fast becoming my venue of choice to watch movies, with plenty of screenings lined up the past month with the Under the Banyan Tree outdoor screenings, and the hosting of the 4th Singapore Short Cuts. In addition to being the venue of the upcoming Japanese Film Festival starting this weekend, you can make a date every second Tuesday of the month to watch some cinematic classics as well.

As explained best by the promotional material:

A programme of the National Museum Cinémathèque and co-presented by the Singapore Film Society, World Cinema Series is a monthly screening of works by the boldest and most inventive auteurs in the history of cinema. This series charts both the significant and less discovered territories of cinema - from the early silent era to underground films, and new wave film movements around the world, by some of the greatest mavericks and artists of film.

Discover the wonders and possibilities of the art of cinema on the big screen – as it was meant to be seen – with the World Cinema Series, shown every second Tuesday of the month at the National Museum of Singapore.
The series kicks off in September with the screening of Imamura Shohei’s stunning epic, The Profound Desire of the Gods (1968). Look out for Youssef Chahine’s Cairo Station (1958) in October and King Hu’s A Touch of Zen (1971) in November.

King Hu's Touch of Zen presented in 35mm - I am so there already!

***


This movie by the late Japanese director Shohei Imamura is indeed profound. From the mouthful of a title, and an intriguing one at that, to the themes involving incest and religious superstition, it was an intense movie to sit through (almost 3 hours of it all), and one that is so complex and layered, I'd have to admit I was lost at certain points in trying to decipher it. The reddish hue and faint subtitles didn't help my concentration, given the fact that it was an aged print that was used for the screening. But I digress.

Taken at face value, it tells of a story of an engineer who is tasked to an island to provide a well for a local sugar mill. There, the city man encounters bizarre islander customs and practises, some of which include having a mentally challenged teenage girl being offered to him as a wife. But what's even more strange, and I thought was confusing to me, where the inbred Futori family, where in a sequence early in the film, establishes the character relationships (which drove me mad that I gave up and started providing mental footnotes to the characters instead). Forbidden love and desire seems to be the order of the day, and it did seem strange that some of the explicit sexual scenes were a little awkward to sit through as well, given this relationship.

But I guess that's what Imamura is trying to address, in his words, that he's "interested in the relationship of the lower part of the human body and the lower part of the social structure", in having characters that are unconventional, not instantly likable, if at all. What I thought was easier to follow, were two plot threads. First, with the conflict between progress, modernity and tradition, with the coming of a city dweller and developer serving as a catalyst for change, introducing capitalism (farmers holding out selling their land for higher offers and profit) to a bunch of folks who so far, I thought were self sufficient living in that little island of theirs.

Second, how religion, or religious superstition, can be overbearing and permeate through society, or used by those with higher authority, to keep everyone else in tow. Which sort of reminded me of M Night Shayamalan's The Village. There were a number of scenes here which made reference to "god", and a character being some virgin priestess looking for a successor so that she can be off with a loved one - pretty pagan stuff here, but one which builds to a powerful climax in the movie as we see how focused a group these fanatical (?) followers can be.

All said, I'm ambivalent about whether I enjoyed the movie or not. There were some parts which appealed, some parts which didn't, and others which I just found hard to swallow. It's not that it's terribly edgy material, but somehow I can't put a finger to the queasy feeling I encountered while sitting patiently through the movie (and this is definitely not attributed to the less than pristine quality of the print). But as one of the lesser seen Imamura movies (it was later revealed during a panel discussion that it was a commercial flop when first released in Japan), I'm glad I made it a point to watch this, more actually in preparation for the director-in-focus screenings this coming weekend during the Japanese Film Festival.

[7th Asian Film Symposium] Osanpo (Strolling Along) / Remember Chek Jawa

Tonight marks the closing of the 7th Asian Film Symposium, after the past 4 days of short and feature film screenings, and a Forum on the Asian Film Festival circuit. And closing the symposium are two films, one Japanese docu-drama, while the other is a local documentary on Chek Jawa, which I thought aptly closed the Symposium on a strong note, with strangers coming together, forming friendships, pooling resources and tackling a common cause, mirroring the Symposium's platform for the meeting of the minds.


Director Eric Lim of Remember Chek Jawa was present with his crew and subject interviewees for a Q&A Session after the screening. Below are some of the nuggets of information shared during the session:

• This screening is the 4th public screening of Chek Jawa.


• He had spent about 3 months since December last year to put the movie together, with the help of Online Editor Gek Lisan.


• The footage that we see of the effort is mostly shot in Aug 2001


• Some of the wildlife stuff were filmed on and off between 2002 to 2004.


• The DVD is expected to be out at the end of the year, and is to be distributed by Objectifs.



• Those who wish to request for screenings can click on this link.


• It will be travelling the film festival circuit starting with "Planet in Focus" International Environmental Film & Video Festival come 24-28 Oct 07.


• But of course Eric feels that he would prefer more locals to watch this documentary, which I agree, since it's something that's directly relevant to us.
  
• Besides his much needed vacation, Eric has also finished filming his next project, which is a documentary on a Chinese opera family living at Pulau Ubin, and editing should be completed by mid 2008.

Besides Eric, one of the key players in Remembering Chek Jawa, botanist Joseph Lai, was also on hand to share a few words. Joseph was a key player in noticing the treasure trove and galvanizing like-minded volunteers to save the habitat. His current project is to save some patches of forest, which is home to a number of animals and rare species, at Sentosa, which will be directly impacted with the building of the Integrated Resort. You can read up more of Joseph's works at Eart-Heart, and contact him too if you're interested in outreach and nature walks programmes. There are plenty of links, pictures and information for nature buffs and amateurs alike who want to have a jumpstart into the interesting locations that you thought couldn't exist in our concrete jungle. Joseph made a poignant point before he ended though, and that's a reminder that the treasures of nature that we have here, is ours, and nobody else can take care of them other than ourselves.

***

Osanpo reminds me of Richard Linklater's Before Sunrise and Before Sunset. You have a couple strolling along (that's the English title by the way) the streets bantering with each other, only that Osanpo has limited the scope to the present and the now, rather than opening the conversation up to everything under the sun.

It's a keen observation about contemporary love, told through a pseudo-documentary style, which I thought was quite sly in bringing out the issues behind courtship. You feel for everyone's concern about whether they've said or done the right thing, the perceptions that they have of each other's body language, and their hopes and dreams of what would come about from a few weeks old relationship. Which I thought was quite true, as we present ourselves in a certain manner, while inside, we hide our insecurities, and together with it, our desires.

Not everything always will turn out smooth sailing, and what elevates Osanpo is in its documentary talking heads style which highlights what each person truly meant behind their words and action, and while they might come as a shock - demonstrating our ability to deceive, to play coy, to lead on (sometimes unintentionally) - you're more likely to nod your head in agreement, either coming from personal experience, or from something observed or discussed before with friends.

If there's any need to have a movie as a reference for modern love, then perhaps Osanpo might just be it - dealing with the idealistic notions when people fall in love, and a large dose of a reality check to it all.

***

Do you know Chek Jawa? Neither did I, before I watched this documentary by Eric Lim. This year alone had seen a bumper crop of local documentarians putting out their latest works, with Tan Pin Pin's Invisible City, Lee Yanfeng and Hanafi Ramdan's The Kallang Wave, Jasmin Ng's Pink Paddlers, F by Chew Tze Chuan, Match Made by Mirabelle Ang, Ng Khee Jin's Feet Unbound, James Leong and Lynn Lee's Aki Ra's Boys (and Homeless FC released in Hong Kong), and Eng Yee Peng's double bill on Diminishing Memories expected to be released soon.

Somehow I've always taken an affinity to local documentaries, for the fact that there's always something special to tell about our country from a unique perspective of the filmmaker's lens, something that was unseen delivered and made known. Important documentaries that tell the story of what was once, like Pin Pin's Invisible City, and Yee Peng's Diminishing Memories. I'm no nature buff, and I'd admit I was a bit apprehensive whether the content of Chek Jawa could appeal to me.

It certainly did, and I'd expect it to appeal to a mass audience as well, not necessarily just the nature buffs or conservationists, because it deals with the can-do human spirit, demonstrating that when we come together with a common cause, we can indeed make a difference, in spite of not being funded to do something, but doing it with passion, for a greater passion. It's inspiring to see so much achieved by a group of volunteers, who readily admit they actually had no clue whether what they're doing is right in scientific methodology, but their goal of preserving an extraordinary piece of land at Pulau Ubin, which is home to 6 eco-systems no less, takes precedence.

And the amount of wildlife shots is astounding as they are stunning - I have absolutely no idea about the wealth of bio-diversity in just Chek Jawa alone. The filmmakers and the volunteers deserve a salute in their successful effort to put off a reclamation project on that very same piece of land, in a bit to save the wildlife for future generations to appreciate. What they have achieved was to present in concrete terms, the case for preserving the wildlife, and I'm glad that their hard effort paid off, that is, until the year 2012. Whether or not Chek Jawa will go then, will depend very much on how we treasure, and continue to voice our concerns over any possible land re-use. But of course, the powers that be have the final say, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to persuade logically, and with good reason.

Watching children go ga-ga over the interaction with the wildlife, and having it become a live teaching grounds for relevant studies and research, do seem like valid reasons. Nothing beats holding something in your hands, versus a textbook diagram or a specimen behind a plexiglass in a museum. And what more, to anyone who says that Singapore is a boring place with the expansion of its concrete jungle, well, I'd advise him or her to go take a trip to our nature reserves. If anything, Remembering Chek Jawa has taught me two things. One, Nature is worth preserving, and second, never underestimate the power of the human spirit, especially when it gels together, working for a cause. As they say, unity is strength.

Remember Chek Jawa epitomizes that spirit, and has, in my opinion, sealed an important place in Singapore's limited, but growing, filmography. Eric Lim has presented the documentary in easy digestible chunks, deftly handling the talking head interviews with footage of preparation and the actual project itself, highlighting all the anecdotes and challenges, reminding that it is no doubt a difficult task at hand, but one that resulted in a little sweet victory in many sense, and especially to raise awareness to Chek Jawa for audiences who have seen this film.

Stay tuned until the end of the credits for a coda. And I hope to pay a visit to Chek Jawa soon, if anyone wants to join me, send me an email or comment! I'll probably put up some pictures of the place when I do.

[DVD Collector's Edition] Love Letter (1995)

Never Forget

If memory serves me right, Love Letter was one of the first movies to be screened at the then Picturehouse at Handy Road, which was Singapore's first art house cinema. I hadn't watched Love Letter until now, some 12 years after it was made, but after watching it, I realized that this is probably a pioneer in most of the Japanese or Korean romance movies to have come out over these years, most of which have adapted some of the themes discussed, most notably about missed opportunities.

Love Letter is an unconventional love story. For starters, there isn't an direct romantic interactions between the lead characters it wants to focus on. Most stories would have romantic scenes played out in chronological order, and the audience journeys together with the leads on their road to togetherness. Love Letter makes an audience work - it doesn't present the material outright, but rather in sporadic memory recollections. Neither does it have the formulaic boy-meets-girl-loses-girl-wins-girl sequence. In fact, we begin with a funeral anniversary, and the sense of loss made permanent.

There are multiple story arcs in Love Letter, but the main one that engages the audience to find out more, is the one between Hiroko Watanabe (Miho Nakayama) and her fiance Itsuki Fujii, whom we never meet, but meet only the teenage Itsuki (Takashi Kashiwabara) instead. Hiroko has lost her fiance two years ago, but refuses to let go. Instead, at the spur of a moment, she copies down the address where he stayed at when he was young, and sent a letter to the address, knowing jolly well that redevelopment has caused the house to stand no more, and her letter will be akin to one sent to Heaven. To her surprise, she receives a reply from Itsuki Fujii, and unravelling the identity of the new Itsuki, discovers that she is someone who bears the same name as her fiance, and even shared a moment in time together as classmates.

The two girls never interact directly (even thought they're played by the same actress), but through their correspondence, we learn more about the life of the boy in question, one which relied on Itsuki's memory to bring to life for Hiroko to dwell in. And there might be a hint why Itsuki the boy had come to choose Hiroko too, perchance also based on his memory with his namesake. Being a quiet guy, expressing his feelings never is easy, but he demonstrates his affections in some quirky manner instead. Thus a very interesting love triangle develops, though one which involves different timelines, and one which never is loud in expression, choosing instead to focus on the subtleties. You wonder when you move on, whether you'll seize the moment with someone who resembles an old flame, though that applies in looks alone, as character will definitely be different, and Miho Nakayama managed to bring differences to the two characters she played, even though it didn't include having massive makeup or wardrobe changes, but relied a lot on subtle movements and behaviour.

Besides the main arc, there are also other arcs on love in the movie, specifically the new budding love between Hiroko and new flame Akiba Shigeru (Etsushi Toyokawa), who tries his best to help Hiroko let go of the past, but yet standing by her when she struggles to do so, and that amongst the family of Itsuki (the female), whose grandfather (Katsuyuki Shinohaara) had a pivotal role in a rather touching scene involving love and loss. The excellent soundtrack by Remedios also accentuates the many beautiful moments in the movie, its main theme is memorable and I believe already a recognizable classic.

Die hard romantics will definitely see a difference in how a story like this gets told by writer-director Shunji Iwai, and therein likes its appeal. It goes against the grain and doesn't wrap everything up in saccharine sweet moments. However, in its digging up past memories, and controlling the flashbacks in a very measured way without serving to confuse, it actively engages you to think and feel for the characters, and providing the space to do so. What is remarkable, is that the movie, after 12 years and counting, had withstood the test of time.

The Collector's Edition Code 3 DVD by Panorama Distributions comes with a 4 frame film strip (mine shows Takashi Kashiwabara standing at the door) and 10 newly printed postcard set. Visual presentation is in anamorphic widescreen, and the visual transfer is beautiful, bringing out the beauty of the long and scenic shots that get peppered throughout the movie. Scene selection is available over 12 chapters.

Audio comes in Dolby Digital Stereo in both Japanese and the Cantonese dub, and there's an optional commentary by Hong Kong film critics Shu Kei and Tong Ching Siu in Cantonese. Subtitles for the movie and the audio commentary is available in both English and Chinese. However, there are noticeable typo errors in the movie's English subtitles, while that for the commentary had a lot more typo errors and noticeable grammatical errors. But none of these will deter you from understanding the movie or what the critics have to share about the film.

If you have time, give the commentary a go. It began with an interesting anecdote on the distribution of the movie in Hong Kong, and both Shu Kei and Ching Siu provide plenty of excellent insights to the movie, sometimes even down to specific scenes, as well as provide a broad discussion on the director's style adopted for the movie, and touched upon the impact the movie had, which lasted up until today. Rarely a silent moment in their commentary, except perhaps at the 1"15 mark, and towards the end of the movie.

For those who can read traditional Chinese, there's a 2 page essay by writer-director Shunji Iwai on the creation of the movie, printed on the inside of the DVD sleeve.

Waitress

Service With a Smile

The late writer-director Adrienne Shelly's Waitress is a fine quirky film. But I have to admit one of the prime reasons for my catching this movie, is that it stars Keri Russell. Somehow I didn't find her all that attractive during her Felicity days, but my, how have things changed, and her very short role in M:I:III was somewhat a pity. Here, she plays the lead role as Jenna, a waitress at a pie diner, who's secretly wishing to save enough money to get away from a miserable life.

And what a miserable life that is. Stuck in an unhappy marriage, her life is the home to work to home cycle, putting up with customers in the diner, but worse, having to tolerate her husband Earl (Jeremy Sisto) and his nonsense. A possessive, insecure man, he controls Jenna, even as ridiculous as the things she has to say to him, and makes life an emotional, and sometimes physical hell for her. Your blood will just boil when you see the kind of treatment he dishes out, especially the miscellaneous blackmailing techniques.

But Jenna's thoughts and plans of escape get put on hold as she becomes pregnant. And having secret desires with a newcomer doctor Dr. Pomatter (Nathan Fillion of Serenity) just happens to complicate things, not that he's a good looker, but finally here's someone who lends a listening ear, but wait, is also married! The story dwells upon life in general, and the choices and decisions one makes, and I thought for a moment it nearly gone into Little Children territory.

Waitress contains a lot of charm, in having the good looking leads in Keri Russell and Nathan Fillion play off each other. Those into bakery will also be smiling at the numerous pies that Jenna bakes, whose ingredients and inspiration come from her life situations and events. Andy Griffith, whom I have watched as a boy his television series Matlock, lends himself to a role as Old Joe, who owns the pie diner, a fussy man who dictates his every wish at the diner, but one who also dispenses invaluable everyday life advice to Jenna when she needed it most. But as much as I like the many characters in the movie, I still take my hat off to Jeremy Sisto's Earl, as the asshat husband. Those who behave like he does ought to be ashamed, and it's a constant reminder never to degenerate into a complete prick like he is.

It makes a wonderful date movie this week, even though it's not a romance movie per se and is heavy on dialogue. But definitely one of the major issues raised and as observed here, is for the guys to take stock of our behaviour when dealing with our loved ones. This, despite Waitress being a chick flick.


When the world is gray and bleak
Baby don't you cry
I will give you every bit of love that's in my heart
I will bake it up into a simple little pie…
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
Gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle
Baby don't be blue
Gonna make for you
Gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle.
Gonna be a pie from heaven above
Gonna be filled with strawberry love
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
Hold you forever in the middle of my heart.
Baby's here's the sun
Baby here's the sky
Baby I'm the light and I'm your shelter
Baby you are mine
I could freeze the time
Keep you in my kitchen with me forever
Gonna be a pie from heaven above
Gonna be filled with strawberry love
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
Hold you forever in the middle of my heart.
Gonna be a pie from heaven above
Gonna be filled with butterscotch love
Gonna be a pie from heaven above
Gonna be filled with lemon cream love
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
Hold you forever in the middle of my heart.