Tag: 2019

Review: Sorry We Missed You

Ken Loach sits alone in a room, with one square left on his misery bingo card. “What if I literally piss on my lead?” he muses. A brief smile flickers across his face before the creeping darkness that threatens to swallow us all once again draws him into its bittersweet embrace. He has no choice. We have no choice. There has never been any choice.

For decades the socially conscious Loach has observed the fringe of the British society, winning the Palme d’Or twice – for The Wind That Shakes the Barley (2006) and I, Daniel Blake (2016) – and carving out a niche for this kind of storytelling. In 2019, those fringes are now at the heart of the working class, making SORRY WE MISSED YOU one of Loach’s more timely pieces.

A decade on from the global financial crisis of 2008, Ricky (Kris Hitchen) and his family are still struggling to escape debt. After selling the car to buy into a delivery franchise, his wife Abbie (Debbie Honeywood) must now use public transport for her job as a home care nurse. Meanwhile, their son Seb (Rhys Stone) is skipping school to do some street art with his mates.

If there’s one thing that Loach conveys exceptionally well, it’s how the system manages to grind you down. Just like the eponymous character in I, Daniel Blake – caught in an endless cycle of bureaucratic red tape – Ricky is damned if he does and vice versa. Despite being wholly reliant on the courier company for work, Ricky is counted as a sole trader under employment law. This means every missed parcel, time spent caring for his son or wife, or misadventure comes out of his pocket. It would be a comedy of errors watching Ricky beaten within an inch of his life trying to deliver on time if it wasn’t so damned close to reality.

Except for Hitchens, the only non-Newcastle local in the film, the cast is made up of actors relatively new to the industry. While there are times that this is obvious, for the most part it means we forget that we aren’t watching a documentary about the family. It’s especially impressive in the case of Honeywood and Stone who reportedly incorporated improvisational techniques into their performances to convey a sense of realism. When Abbie exclaims “I’m doing my bloody best. I don’t have enough time” before breaking, you believe she’s genuinely exhausted.

While the endless cycle is kind of Loach’s point, it’s still a hard watch for an audience. “I have not got a choice,” laments Ricky, returning to work during a traumatic family ordeal and life-threatening injuries. This sense of hopelessness inevitably carries over to the viewer, making us ponder if there is there any hope for the rest of us? After all, the one percent that could make a difference probably won’t be on their way to cinema to catch this pointed neorealist nightmare.

2019 | UK | DIRECTOR: Ken Loach | WRITERS: Ken Loach| CAST: Kris Hitchen, Debbie Honeywood, Rhys Stone, Katie Proctor | DISTRIBUTOR: Icon Film Distribution| RUNNING TIME: 100 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 26 December 2019 (AUS)

December 23, 2019
Review: Ip Man 4: The Finale

You have to hand it to Wilson Yip and Donnie Yen’s Ip Man franchise. Although it is based on the life of the Wing Chun grandmaster of the same name, they’ve always played fast and loose with the actual history. So much so that he’s almost become a figure of modern mythology.

Save for some bookend pieces in Hong Kong, the definitively titled IP MAN 4: THE FINALE (葉問4) shifts the location to San Francisco. After being diagnosed with cancer, Ip Man (Donnie Yen) travels to America to find a new school and a better life for his son. Yet instead of a warm welcome and recommendation letter from the other martial arts masters of the Chinese Benevolent Association, he is met with hostility.

Set against the backdrop of 1960s Chinatown, the primary storyline concerns CBA chairman Wan Zonghua (Wu Yue) upset that Ip Man’s student Bruce Lee (Danny Chan reprising his role from Ip Man 3) is teaching non-Chinese students. The chairman’s daughter Yonah (Vanda Margraf) just wants to be a cheerleader, but faces violent racist bullying from the other students. Then there’s racist army dude Barton Geddes (Scott Adkins), who refuses to accept US Marines staff sergeant Hartman’s (Vanness Wu Jian-hao) idea of introducing Chinese martial arts into military training.

These three separate storylines seemingly have no hope of ever intersecting, but they are united by a common thread of racism. There’s nothing subtle about Hiroshi Fukazawa and Edmond Wong’s screenplay, one where all white people constantly refer to the Chinese by derogatory names and in turn there is an inherent distrust of “whitey” (in the film’s lingo) appropriating Chinese culture for their own purposes. Of course, in 2019 neither of these propositions have disappeared from reality.

The ‘other’ has always been the enemy in the Ip Man films, with the threat of the ‘foreign devil’ (to borrow a phrase from the first film) apparent from imperialist Japan (Ip Man) to Mike Tyson (Ip Man 3). Yen’s Ip Man is a kind of cultural ambassador between worlds, with Adkin’s Full Metal Jacket douche a heavy-handed representative of American exceptionalism and white supremacy.

Here it all contrives to end up in a series of unlikely fights between the various parties. Which, if we’re being honest, is the main reason we pay the price of admission. While masters from multiple styles are represented, the film disappointingly spends most of its time building to two major fights: one between Yen and the hulking Chris Collins (as Marine Colin Frater) and the other between Yen and Adkins. Series director Wilson Yip directs these with crisp blocking and Yen’s trademark rapid-fire punches. Chan, as the second on-screen Bruce Lee this year, ensures that the power of every punch is felt in a playful tribute to Ip Man’s most famous student.

Politically bizarre and structurally chaotic, IP MAN 4 is primarily a nostalgic farewell to the series, complete with an actual montage of the greatest hits from the previous films. It might be the end of the line for Yen’s Ip Man, but hopefully not for this breed of dramatic action film. Along with Chasing the Dragon II: Wild Wild Bunch, The White Storm 2 – Drug Lords and Line Walker 2 it’s nice to see the return of the Hong Kong blockbuster sequel.

2019 | Hong Kong| DIRECTOR: Wilson Yip | WRITERS: Hiroshi Fukazawa, Edmond Wong | CAST: Donnie Yen, Scott Adkins, Danny Chan, Vanness Wu, Chris Collins, Wu Yue | DISTRIBUTOR: CMC Pictures (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 105 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 20 December 2019 (AUS)

December 21, 2019
Review: Cats

Before anything else, we must agree that Cats has always been seriously weird. Despite that, it’s one of the biggest musicals of all time, with the original West End run lasting for a then record-breaking 21 years. It was a Jellicle choice and the public made it repeatedly.

Tom Hooper, who previously helmed Les Misérables in 2012, is not the first to attempt to bring Andrew Llyod Webber’s megamusical to the screen. David Mallet’s 1998 direct-to-video production is pretty much an edited recreation of the stage play, whereas Hooper and co-writer Lee Hall (Rocketman) set their cats loose in a digital playground of a neon-coloured fever dream.

Loosely based on the poems of T.S. Elliot, even those familiar with the musical will probably acknowledge that the narrative doesn’t make a lick of sense. After a young cat named Victoria (ballet dancer Francesca Hayward) is thrown sack-first into an alley, she gets drawn into the world of the Jellicle Cats on the night of the Jellicle Ball where they must make the Jellicle Choice of which of them will ascend to a new life on the Heaviside Layer.

Got it? You’d be forgiven for exclaiming, “What the hell is a jellicle?” before hearing the word (a bastardisation of “dear little”) several hundred more times. Based on a series of nonsense poems for children, the film follows the musical by essentially showcasing each of the characters in turn as they sing their stories for Old Deuteronomy (Judi Dench). Presented in this way in a film, it’s a swirling morass of ideas and songs that don’t necessarily connect in a logical fashion. It’s either an artistic collage or the most messed-up variety show you’ll see this year.

On a pure technical level, this is arguably the most digitally assisted musical since Moulin Rouge. From the opening shots, Hooper’s London is a surreal explosion of ideas glimpsed from cat height. At the moment the first cat person appears on screen, our brains don’t quite connect the human faces with the ‘digital fur technology’ and ears that make up the rest of their bodies. The overall effect is quite jarring, a kind of “uncatty valley” if you will.

While oversized props are used to maintain the cat eye view of the city, at other times the technology being used to shrink people just looks out of place. At its most benign its some dodgy green screen work. At its most disturbing, Rebel Wilson peels off her fur suit to reveal another suit underneath, orchestrating a troupe of computer-generated mice and cockroaches with human faces. That’s just two songs in. That sensation you feel in your throat is the urge to scream in sheer terror after glimpsing the abyss.

The hero songs range from the silly (Wilson on “The Old Gumbie Cat”), to the reworked (Jason Derulo as “The Rum Tum Tugger”) to the sheer fun (Danny Collins, Naoimh Morgan and Hayward on “Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer”). “Beautiful Ghosts,” a new song co-written by Weber and Taylor Swift (who appears briefly on “Macavity” opposite the eponymous villain Idris Elba) is quietly emotional and fits in nicely with the familiar numbers.

If anything detracts from its impact then it’s only the proximity to “Memories,” delivered multiple times by the powerful voice of Jennifer Hudson. While the character feels like a side-story for much of the film, when Hudson steps into the spotlight it’s pure theatre. On the flip side, a finale (“The Addressing of Cats”) sung by Judi Dench seems to go on forever.

The thing about CATS is that if you’re in, then you’re all in. Nonsensical ear-candy is kind of the name of the game, and the faithful will have already bought the tickets to the next session. Yet the rest of us may find ourselves pinned against our seats, eyes wide and jaws open for 110 minutes wondering what the hell we just saw.

2019 | UK/US | DIRECTOR: Tom Hooper | WRITERS: Lee Hall, Tom Hooper| CAST: Francesca Hayward, James Corden, Judi Dench, Jason Derulo, Idris Elba, Jennifer Hudson, Ian McKellen, Taylor Swift, Rebel Wilson | DISTRIBUTOR: Universal Pictures | RUNNING TIME: 110 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 26 December 2019 (AUS)

December 19, 2019
Review: Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker

The cultural cache of Star Wars was immeasurable for decades, at least up until 2015 when J.J. Abrams’ The Force Awakens, the first continuation of the Skywalker Saga since 1983, hauled in a tidy $2 billion at the box office.

STAR WARS: THE RISE OF SKYWALKER is the conclusion to that story, although a lot has happened to the Star Wars landscape in the last four years. Following the release of The Last Jedi, the internet formed some opinions and those opinions formed petitions. Thanks to the spin-off films (Rogue One, Solo), Star Wars has become an annual event. In fact, with the launch of Disney+ and The Mandalorian, it’s a weekly one.

So, after a small off-screen epic that saw Rian Johnson, Colin Trevorrow and Derek Connolly all attached to the film in various capacities, the return of Abrams to the director’s chair is ostensibly a course correction for the series. Or at least a public response to ‘fan’ outrage. Picking up some time after the events of the last film, the voice of Emperor Palpatine has been transmitted and everyone is in a fuss about it.

The somewhat rushed opening act fills in some of the gaps. Kylo Ren (Adam Driver) is on a quest to find the Emperor. Rey (Daisy Ridley) continues her Jedi training under General Leia (the late Carrie Fisher). With new information from a First Order spy, Rey, Finn (John Boyega), Poe (Oscar Isaac), C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and various others trek off to find the necessary McGuffin to save the galaxy.

Much like The Force Awakens, part of the mission of Abrams and Chris Terrio’s script is to restore good faith in vocal fans. As such, THE RISE OF SKYWALKER spends some time wandering through the past, either in a literal sense (by visiting old locations or characters) or more thematically by aping moments from previous films.

As a fan, it would be disingenuous to say that I didn’t enjoy the hell out of this nostalgic approach, and every one of these bits of fan service hit the mark. Some were bittersweet, of course, with Fisher and original Chewie Peter Mayhew having shuffled off the mortal coil since the last film. There are a few patchwork appearances in the final act that were clearly included to get around their importance to the script as originally written but these can easily be forgiven given the circumstances.

That said, Abrams also seems determined to throw in as many ‘gasp!’ moments as possible. Rarely pausing for breath in its lengthy runtime, questions are answered in rapid succession about character origins and hidden motivations. Some of it is a little too neat, and the reintroduction of the Emperor itself seems like a cheap redux that uses familiarity in lieu of creating a new threat.

Yet as the title would imply, this is both the end of the Skywalker saga and the restoration of a newer hope. It’s certainly not a spoiler to say that the paths of Kylo Ren and Rey are not the ones we’ve been led to believe, and in order for a balance to be restored to the Force, some classic fears have to be conquered. If that involves a series of cool lightsaber battles and cameos, then so be it.

Following a few similar story beats to this year’s Avengers: Endgame, Abrams wraps up his story on a curiously ambiguous note. It’s a film that tries to have its cake and eat it too, wish-fulfilling every comments section but also not completely committing to a happy ending. Still, taken as a whole, the Abrams version of Star Wars is a fun one and a successor to Return of the Jedi as a series closer.

2019 | US | DIRECTOR: J.J. Abrams | WRITERS: Chris Terrio, J.J. Abrams | CAST: Carrie Fisher, Mark Hamill, Adam Driver, Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Oscar Isaac, Anthony Daniels, Naomi Ackie, Domhnall Gleeson, Richard E. Grant, Lupita Nyong’o, Keri Russell, Joonas Suotamo, Kelly Marie Tran, Ian McDiarmid, Billy Dee Williams | DISTRIBUTOR: Disney | RUNNING TIME: 142 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 19 December 2019 (AUS)

December 18, 2019
Review: Only Cloud Knows

As one of China’s most commercially successful filmmakers, Feng Xiaogang was primarily known for his comedies like The Dream Factory (1997) and the If You Are the One films. The success of his films was largely attributed to Feng tapping into the nationalist vibes of new Chinese cinema, and his most recent outings such as Youth (2017) have been nostalgic pieces about the period of the Cultural Revolution.

So, it’s interesting that Feng’s latest film eschews his Beijing favouritism for the unlikely climes of New Zealand in a co-production that still aims for a particular brand of romantic drama. Based on the true story of one of Feng’s friends, it follows Chinese widower Dongfeng (Huang Xuan) who returns to New Zealand after the death of his wife Yan (Yang Caiyu).

Given that most of this film is played out through an extended flashback sequence, we know from the beginning that there’s going to be tears before bedtime. Playing out with all tricks of the Hallmark trade, we watch as Dongfeng and Yan open a restaurant in a small town and face a laundry list of hardships ranging from pregnancy to psycho patrons, pet problems and pyromania across a lengthy running time.

Cinematographer Zhao Xiaoding (House of Flying Daggers, Shadow) does much of the heavy lifting with some beautiful photography of New Zealand as a backdrop. Mind you, if cinema has taught us anything it’s that New Zealand doesn’t take too many poor photographs.

Chinese celebrity Huang (Legend of the Demon Cat) capably steers his way through the slender material, managing to deliver some emotional moments through some of the more obvious cheese. An initially mournful performance gives way to some levity and angst respectively, although the film is at its most comfortable when he’s interacting with Yang Caiyu (Youth). Joining the Chinese cast is newcomer Lydia Peckham (Hibiscus & Ruthless) as Melinda, steering the cast into bilingual dialogue and acting as a kind of cultural interpreter for audiences on both sides of the equator.

ONLY CLOUD KNOWS (只有芸知道) is a kind of perfect holiday movie for those inclined towards light-hearted romance and have run out of films listed under the Netflix category of “Feel-good romantic movies.” Coming with an added bit of emotional weight thanks to the real people who inspired this, shown in photographs over the closing credits, this is romance that consciously makes a grab for the tissue box.

2019 | China/New Zealand| DIRECTOR: Feng Xiaogang | WRITERS: Feng Xiaogang | CAST: Huang Xuan, Yang Caiyu, Xu Fan, Lydia Peckham | DISTRIBUTOR: China Lion Film (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 132 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 19 December 2019 (AUS)

December 18, 2019
Review: Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Girlhood director and My Life as a Zucchini screenwriter Céline Sciamma became the first woman to win the Queer Palm at Cannes. While the reasons it took a decade for this to happen is another discussion entirely, it’s easy to see why PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE (Portrait de la jeune fille en feu) will land on all the ‘best of’ lists as we close out that decade.

Sciamma’s film is a staggeringly powerful and evocative romance set against the backdrop of a remote island in Brittany at the end of the eighteenth century. Artist Marianne (Noémie Merlant) has been commissioned by the Countess (Valeria Golino) to paint a portrait of Héloïse (Adèle Haenel) prior to her reluctant marriage. Héloïse refuses to sit for the painting, so Marianne acts as a hired companion and observes. As their relationship grows stronger, Marianne is torn by the trust and passion she has engendered in Héloïse.

Led by a pair of powerful performances from Merlant and Haenel, Sciamma uses Claire Mathon’s (Atlantics) photography like a precision instrument to envelop us in this closed world. This is no male fantasy about two women in isolation finding love, but rather a musing on the power of friendship and trust. Sciamma’s slow-build tension is organic, and despite the almost complete absence of men in the film the bounds of the dominant paradigm is present just behind the scenes. A subplot with the wonderful Luàna Bajrami as Sophie the handmaiden, for example, is about home abortion.

Electronic music producer and director Jean-Baptiste de Laubier and Arthur Simonini are ostensibly the composers on the film, yet there’s a notable absence of an active score in this studied construction. As Marianne and Héloïse wander wind-swept coastlines or haunt candlelit hallways, there’s a tangible weight to the silence of their longing. There’s two massive exceptions to this: a group of apparent pagan women chanting by firelight and the final scene of the film.

Effectively a two-hander – save for a handful of wonderful scenes with Golino or Bajrami – the duo of Merlant and Haenel carry the entire emotional weight of the film. Built partly around the repeatedly referenced myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, each character is given a chance to slowly unfold their backstory as Sciamma teases out the fears underlying their passions.

If the rest of the film flirts with greatness, then the final 20 minutes or so tips it over into masterpiece territory. A devastating use of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons, while focusing entirely on Haenel’s face, will leave you breathless as it taps into feelings of loss and regret that entire tomes have never managed to capture so effectively.

2019 | France | DIRECTOR: Céline Sciamma | WRITERS: Céline Sciamma | CAST: Noémie Merlant, Adèle Haenel, Valeria Golino | DISTRIBUTOR: Madman Films| RUNNING TIME: 120 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 26 December 2019 (AUS)

December 15, 2019
Review: 6 Underground

When you hear the term ‘a film by Michael Bay,’ there’s a certain level of expectation. Slow-motion turns, ridiculous explosions, improbable chases and semi-clad women. In Bay’s first film for Netflix, he ticks through his personal checklist of destruction like he’s running out of time.

Written by the Deadpool and Zombieland team of Paul Wernick and Rhett Reese, one immediately wonders if it wasn’t so much a script they penned as a series of flashcards set to music. The first five minutes is like a trailer for the film we are about to see, although what follows – a 15 minute car chase that blows any other action scene of late out of the water – is pretty much par for the course.

What we eventually glean, from multiple flashbacks often inside other flashbacks, is that there is a group of elite folks from around the world who are led by an enigmatic billionaire known only as One (Ryan Reynolds). Declared dead by the world, together they topple governments and blow shit up.

After a series of Transformers films, Bay returns to his roots with 6 UNDERGROUND. By that, of course, we mean a reported $150 million dollar action fest in the vein of Bad Boys. It’s so self-aware it’s almost exhausting, from the often bizarre camera angles to the whiplash editing that takes us from Italy to Afghanistan to Savannah in under 30 seconds. Using his experience in the Victoria’s Secret commercial world, no opportunity for a butt in lingerie goes past Mr. Bay.

Yet for those who criticised Bay’s 13 Hours, and felt that it ignored the contributions of local people to the mission’s success, his latest film comes back with some strange politics. The primary mission is a coup of the fictional Turgistan and the installation of the dictator’s democratically-inclined brother as the new leader. The ‘good guys with guns’ argument is on shaky ground at the best of times, but here it seems to be suggesting that armed private citizens must act when governments fail.

The eclectic cast – that includes Corey Hawkins, Adria Arjona, Ben Hardy and Manuel Garcia-Rulfo alongside Reynolds – works surprising well together in that stock caper kind of way. If you had César Award Mélanie Laurent as an action hero on your 2019 Bingo Card, you win in more ways than one.

The true hero is naturally the Action Sequence, which in the case of 6 UNDERGROUND is something that starts several minutes in and continues for the remainder of the 128 minute runtime. While some of these take on a much crueller aspect than we’re used to from Bay – impaled bodies, exploding heads, flying teeth (all in slow-mo, of course) – it’s peak performance art. There’s an outstanding use of a Hong Kong construction set, a novel implementation of the THX sound test, and a magnetic motif on a boat must be seen to be believed.

Still, if you’re not prone to seizures brought on from rapid flashes, or the slightly bloodthirsty streak that seems to have taken over the king of carnage, this is probably the most fun you’re going to have with an action film this side of Christmas. With the door left wide open for a sequel, Netflix may just have their first blockbuster franchise on their hands.

2019 | US | DIRECTOR: Michael Bay | WRITERS: Paul Wernick and Rhett Reese | CAST: Ryan Reynolds, Mélanie Laurent, Corey Hawkins, Adria Arjona, Ben Hardy, Manuel Garcia-Rulfo | DISTRIBUTOR: Netflix| RUNNING TIME: 128 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 13 December 2019 (Global)

December 13, 2019
Review: Violet Evergarden – Eternity and the Auto Memory Doll

The first Violet Evergarden film comes with a boatload of added significance. Arriving over a year after the conclusion of the first series with an OVA special, it’s also the first major film released by the legendary Kyoto Animation since the tragic arson attack on the studio that killed 36 people in July this year.

So, it’s appropriate that VIOLET EVERGARDEN: ETERNITY AND THE AUTO MEMORY DOLL (ヴァイオレット・エヴァーガーデン外伝 – 永遠と自動手記人形) carries on in their best understated fashion. After all, the series has always been about dealing with grief and other complex emotions in the wake of monumental tragedy.

A side story to the anime series, the brief film almost feels like a couple of longer episodes strung together. Violet (voiced by Yui Ishikawa of course) arrives at an exclusive girls’ academy with the unusual task of being a ‘tutor’ to Isabella York (Minako Kotobuki), who is effectively a prisoner there based on a contract of sorts with her father.

In the first half of the film, we watch as Violet steadfastly breaks down Isabella’s defences and learns her backstory. As the truth about her past emerges, we are introduced (via a brief time jump) to Taylor Bartlett (Aoi Yūki) and an emotional journey that series writers Reiko Yoshida, Takaaki Suzuki and Tatsuhiko Urahata do so well.

Punctuated by the same titles that graced the end of episodes, this really does follow the style of the series to the (wait for it) letter. Which will suit series fans just fine: it doesn’t so much continue the story as extend the world a little bit, focusing just as much on the emotional arc between new characters Isabella and Taylor as it does on Violet and her fellow Dolls.

Which doesn’t mean that the animation isn’t gorgeous. Director Haruka Fujita doesn’t have quite as many non-sequitur cutaways to feet or the backs of heads, but there are long sequences where he lets the visuals tell the story. There’s a beautiful moments during a waltz where the frame lingers on a painted ceiling of a bird. Later, the stunning painted background give life to a wintery village.

While there’s an argument to be made that this was the kind of thing that could have been included on a home release, as last year’s OVA was, the opportunity to see Violet Evergarden on the big screen is delightful. As we look forward to the main story feature film in 2020, this ‘side’ story is a testament to Kyoto Animation’s ability to tell stories of all sizes and a sign that they will endure beyond their own grief.

2019 | Japan| DIRECTOR: Haruka Fujita | WRITERS: Reiko Yoshida, Takaaki Suzuki, Tatsuhiko Urahata | CAST: Yui Ishikawa,Minako Kotobuki,Aoi Yūki | DISTRIBUTOR: Madman Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 90 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 5 December 2019 (AUS)

December 5, 2019
Review: The Wild Goose Lake

Following Diao Yinan’s breakthrough film Black Coal, Thin Ice – which won the Golden Bear for Best Film at the 2014 Berlin International Film Festival – he arrived at Cannes 2019 amidst great expectations. Competing for the Palme d’Or this year, a prize that ultimately went to Parasite, Diao’s THE WILD GOOSE LAKE (南方车站的聚会) is in fact an understated piece of noir.

The film begins in mystery. The worse-for-wear Zhou Zenong (Hu Ge) waits for his wife, but instead is greeted with the noir staple of a woman in red, Liu Aiai (Gwei Lun-mei). The story unfolds in a non-linear fashion, as we learn that Zhou is a fugitive running from the law after killing a cop, while Liu is a sex worker, or what is politely referred to lakeside as a “bathing beauty.”

What’s most striking from the start of this film is Diao and cinematographer Dong Jingsong’s (Long Day’s Journey Into Night) arresting use of colour. Scenes are bathed with the purple and pink neon glow of the surrounds, suggesting a seedy underbelly even when there is nothing more than conversation occurring. Whole scenes are played out in silhouette, perhaps asking us to put aside what we are seeing and listen to what is being said (or not said). It’s almost like a petit version of a Wong Kar-wai film dropped in the middle of a gangland.

Which is why Diao’s film has largely been said to be a subversion of expected Chinese cultural norms, or at least one that offers an alternative view to the state-sanctioned one. This is a side of China, albeit from the perspective an unnamed city, where the lines of morality are less clear and there is a fluidity to our allegiances as a result.

The film soars during the throwback action sequences, ones that simultaneously combine the aesthetics of modern rapid-fire editing with something consciously recalling the action cinema of China’s 1970s or 80s. There’s a memorable sequence in the film’s back half that uses an umbrella to catch a splatter of blood, and it’s one of the most effective action visuals I’ve seen in quite some time.

Hu Ge’s (1911) steady performance anchors a script that plays with linearity, but it is Gwei Lun-mei’s performance that is the true standout. The term ‘brave’ gets bandied about a bit, but the Taiwanese actor is transformed in a role that repeatedly punishes her character. There is one especially comfortable scene of a prolonged rape, for example, which feels slightly extraneous when it arrives in the final act.

THE WILD GOOSE LAKE is a film that plays with a lot of ideas, mixing them altogether in a dreamlike narrative. This sometimes results in a less than coherent structure, but the stylistic flourishes and top-notch acting will undoubtedly keep audiences keen on seeing this flipside of China.

2019 | China| DIRECTOR: Diao Yinan | WRITERS: Diao Yinan | CAST: Hu Ge, Liao Fan Gwei, Lun-mei, Wan Qian | DISTRIBUTOR: Umbrella Films (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 113 minutes | RELEASE DATE: 5 December 2019 (AUS)

December 5, 2019
Review: Little Love Song

Films based on the music of a band or performer have spanned genres, from this year’s Wham! inspired Last Christmas to practically any film drawing on The Beatles. Following the based-on-a-song Snow Flower, director Kojiro Hashimoto is rapidly carving out a niche in the sub-genre with LITTLE LOVE SONG (小さな恋のうた), a film based on the music of Japanese band MONGOL800.

In the shadow of the US Army base, a high-school band in Okinawa is developing a fierce following. Yet when tragedy strikes on the cusp of breaking big with a major label, singer Ryota (Hayato Sano), drummer Kotaro (Yuki Morinaga) and fledgling guitarist Mai (Anna Yamada) – the sister of their former guitarist – must decide how they will go on.

On the surface, Hashimoto’s film can be viewed primarily as a coming-of-age drama framed within the struggles of a high-school band. Yet there’s nothing especially straightforward about the telling of Kenya Hirata’s (Confession of Murder) screenplay. From a trauma induced dream sequence that takes up most of the first act to the constant flashbacks, the whole film is kind of structured like a song. Each of the vignettes is a verse while the performances punctuate the narrative like a chorus.

There’s also a secondary storyline around an American family living on the US Army Base in Okinawa. The kids talk with young Lisa (Claire Tomiko), who develops a friendship with them from the other side of a fence. Following the hit-and-run death of a local teen, the Okinawans turn their rage against the Army base who are presumptively harbouring the culprit. This thread, thematically reminiscent of the Ryugo Nakamura’s Okinawa-set films (including 2016’s Girl of the Sea) adds an extra level of drama and tension that reflects decades of underlying tension on the isalnd.

The songs that act as the film’s backbone – including the titular ‘Chiisana Koi No Uta’ – are a likeable retro throwback. While there’s really only a handful of them used throughout the film (it’s a high school band after all), ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ (off their 2000 album Go On As You Are) gets the right amount of play to balance out toe-tapping with the emotional peaks and troughs.

Relative newcomers Hayato Sano (Blue Summer) and Anna Yamada (5 Million Dollar Life) are enthusiastic and authentic in the roles. The perpetually middle-aged teen Yuki Morinaga (known for the Chihayafuru series) is arguably the standout, and like all good drummers he steadily maintains the emotional beat to allow his co-stars their solo moments. The “American” casting is a little less successful from the perspective of a Western audience, with some wooden English-language overacting (which fans of Asian cinema tend to be used to), while the all-American teen daughter Tomiko is inexplicably part Japanese.

If this is indeed structured like a little love song, as the title would imply, then it’s inevitable that it’s all going to end in a strong performance. Which is where LITTLE LOVE SONG really shines, strumming along to its simple message that (in the words of Mai) “Music can teach you a lot about life.”

2019 | Japan | DIR: Kojiro Hashimoto| WRITERS: Kenya Hirata | CAST: Kazuhiko Kanayama, Gordon Maeda, Yuki Morinaga | DISTRIBUTOR: Toei (JPN), Japanese Film Festival 2019 (AUS) | RUNNING TIME: 123 minutes | RELEASE DATE: October – December 2019 (JFF)

November 27, 2019