Tag: Asia in Focus

Coverage of films from the Asia-Pacific region.

The Water Magician

Along with Akira Kurosawa and Yasujiro Ozu, prolific Japanese filmmaker Kenji Mizoguchi is considered to be one of the finest directors in Japanese cinema. Although relatively unknown internationally until after the Second World War, the director – whose greatest works include Sansho the Bailiff (Sanshō dayū) and Ugestsu – began his career in the days of silent cinema as an actor, before making his way to the director’s chair by the end of the 1920s.

Originally influenced by German Expressionism, the director would in turn influence the likes of Orson Welles and Jean-Luc Goddard. Mizoguchi would (by his own memory) complete 75 films before his premature death from leukemia, although many of the early films were lost. As such, it is a rare treat to see something like 1933’s The Water Magician (滝の白糸/Taki no Shiraito aka Taki of the Waterfall/White Threads of the Waterfall/Cascading White Threads) on the big screen.

Silent film survived in Japan beyond the introduction of sound, thanks largely to benshi (弁士), a live narration from the traditions of kabuki and noh. In benshi, the narrator stands at the side of the stage, translating the action, acting out the voices, the inter-titles and even making commentary or flamboyant asides on the narrative. Viewers of the recent season of Mizoguchi’s The Water Magician, screened as part of the Bigpond Adelaide Film Festival, were treated to a live benshi accompaniment of the film by seasoned Japanese benshi Ichiro Kataoka.

Taki (Takako Irie) is a famous water juggling performer in a travelling carnival. After falling in love with carriage driver Kinya (Tokihiko Okada), she vows to make sure he always has enough money to make his way through law school. Putting his needs first, Taki makes great sacrifices to ensure there is always money for him in every letter she sends, even if it means that she has to go without. When the money begins to run out, Taki is forced to take desperate measures to help Kinya live his dream.

The Water Magician is such a wonderful survivor of this period of Japanese film, Mizoguchi’s oldest intact film, and is largely hailed as one of the films that pushed the shinpa genre (also written as ‘shimpa’) and the birth of a theme that would follow Mizoguchi throughout his career. Toshie (2007, p.38) notes that “The shinpa films characterised by a deep sympathy for a victimised woman constitute the first important strand in his filmography”.

Based on a shinpa play by Izumi Kyoka, Tateoka Kennosuke’s script certainly uses many of the excesses of this highly melodramatic genre of film. Taki is constantly suffering at the hands of men or because of them: she pays for Kinya’s tuition, she borrows from a loan shark, she is attacked by a group of men who steal her money, she is driven to murder by the actions of a man and it is a panel of men that ultimately decide her fate. Yet this in no way diminishes the role of Taki, a strong woman who thrives in the face of adversity. Yet, as Richie (2001, p.80) points out “Redeeming such shimpa-like excesses is the physical beauty of the film’s images. The asymmetrically balanced sequences – each of which increases our understanding of the characters – carry along with them the subtext of their own aestheticism”.

Indeed, it is quite simply breathtaking that a film shot almost 80 years ago remains as fresh and compelling as it would have been for its contemporary audiences. The imagery – including the opening cart chase sequence, the ‘water magic’ tricks and the repeated motif of the bridge at three key moments in the doomed lovers’ lives – is all filled with such depth and nuance and beauty, a word that can’t be emphasised enough when speaking of Mizoguchi’s earliest surviving work.

The Water Magician contains themes that resonate well into another millennium, not to mention Mizoguchi’s later works on “fallen women”, including Osaka Elegy (1936), Sisters of the Gion (1936), The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums (1939), Women of the Night (1948) and Street of Shame (1956). Mizoguchi is often referred to as one of the first film feminists, although these films are at odds with modern conceptions of feminism, due to their depiction of women as downtrodden members of society. Yet his works were inspired by women’s suffrage (especially Victory of the Women (1946)) and unquestionably sought to bring about of equality between the sexes within the rigid Japanese cultural system that was still slowly making its way from feudalism to modernism.

There has long been a relationship between Mizoguchi’s film techniques and the traditional performing arts, so the live benshi performance that accompanied the screening was a natural fit. While it is incredibly difficult to see this kind of performance in Australia, or outside of Asia for that matter, this is truly a unique way of seeing a film. ‘Silent film’ is a bit of a misnomer, as there was always at least an organ playing, but it is unlikely people outside of Asia will have experienced a film this way before. Although the benshi performed in Japanese, with subtitles on-screen roughly approximating his script, Mike Walsh of Flinders University ponders whether “it is actually crucial to comprehend the language of the opera or benshi, and to be moved by the tradition and beauty of the native speaking voice”. The relatively young Kataoka’s face twists and contorts as his acts out the performance, emphasising not only the highly melodramatic nature of this shinpa film, but the deeply emotional connection that Japan and Japanese audiences have to this era of storytelling.

The Reel Bits: A strong early feminist work from Mizoguchi, who would create his own distinctive style by the end of the decade. It is amazing that we still have such high-quality prints of this early Mizoguchi film to be enjoyed around the world, and artists such as Ichiro Kataoka to give us a glimpse into how these films may have been enjoyed in the 1930s. While benshi may be an art that is no longer common, perhaps there is a role for it still in the century to come.

References:

Richie, D. (2001) A Hundred Years of Japanese Film. Kodanasha International: Tokyo.

Toshi, M. (2007) All For Money: Mizoguchi Kenji’s Osaka Elegy (1936). In A. Phillips and J. Stringer (Eds.) Japanese Cinema: Texts and contexts (pp. 37-49). Routledge: London and New York.

March 8, 2011
Mr. & Mrs. Incredible

Chinese New Year is the traditional time for farcical rom-coms in the Asian markets, as is evidenced by the seemingly annual All’s Well That Ends Well (最強囍事) series that has been running since 1992. While never known for being subtle, their over-the-top stylings have been keeping audiences pleased en masse for decades and they show no sign of stopping. One of this year’s entries is Mr. & Mrs. Incredible (神奇俠侶) shifts the gaze from straight-up crazy rom-com and taking notes from the plethora of US superhero movies that flood our markets every year. The results may be something wholly unique to mainstream western audiences.

In ancient China, the super-powered heroes known as the laser-sighted Gazer Warrior (Louis Koo, Election) and the sweet-smelling Aroma Woman (Sandra Ng Kwan Yue, Golden Chicken) have retired from public life to their rather more domestic personas of Huan and Red respectively. However, after a decade away from the excitement, they have begun to tire of the quiet life. Adventure finds them when a martial arts ranking tournament rolls into town, and both begin to feel a rush of blood. However, as Red increasingly wants to settle down and have a family, will Huan’s urges to return to the ‘awesome’ fighting days win out?

Mr. & Mrs. Incredible is a nonsensical farce that jumps from one moment to the next, with no discernible regard for a cohesive narrative, and that is just one of its many charms. Throwing reality out the window, director Vincent Kok (perhaps best known in the west for Shaolin Soccer) and his co-writer Min Hun Fung (the mad genius behind Stephen Chow’s Kung Fu Hustle and CJ7) aim for the kind of hyper-real comic-book look that US audiences have only recently been exposed to through Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. This is incredibly liberating for an audience that has increasingly been asked to treat superheroes in reverential tones. While comics often deal with weight issues in ways that other mediums can never dream of, one must never forget that the genre (and any genre for that matter) must be entertaining first and foremost. On this level, Kok succeeds brilliantly, creating a world that is not quite ancient China but not really modern-day either. Through extensive use of CGI and other special effects, it exists in its own film reality: a time that never existed, but at the same time is wholly appropriate to the high concept of Mr. & Mrs. Incredible.

Comedy veterans Sandra Ng and Louis Koo provide more than ample expressiveness to a script that isn’t afraid to give a bit of domestic love to the married couple, and while those seeking wall-to-wall action may wish to pop out to the candy bar around the midway point, it does give us a deeper connection to the characters as we build our way up to the inevitable action conclusion. It’s a whopper of a cataclysm too, with special effects that can stand proud next to the seven-figure budgets of their Hollywood cousins. When the filmmakers do cut corners on effects, it is usually a deliberate choice for comic effect. After all, it is a film that is all in good fun, and despite some of the narrative shortcomings that may put off more discerning audiences, there is a joy to proceedings that is an all too rare treat these days.

The Reel Bits: An incredibly silly superhero parody that will hit all the right marks for fans of the genre, but may test the tolerance levels of the initiated. Heavy on both the special effects and the slapstick, it put the ‘comic’ back into ‘comic book heroes’.

Mr. & Mrs. Incredible has been in limited release since 3 February, 2011 from Incubate.

If you care about seeing Asian cinema in Australia on the big screen, we encourage you to go out and support the regular screenings at selected Event Cinemas and the regular Asian Cinema screenings at Hoyts Cinemas. Increasingly they are day-and-date with their Chinese release, so there are no excuses for that ‘other method’ of acquiring them.

March 2, 2011
Shaolin

Despite a brief renaissance in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Chinese film (and in particular, martial arts) has been strangely absent from Australian cinema screens over the last few years. Not since the world’s love affair with Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon – which in turn led to wide releases of Hero and House of Flying Daggers – have audiences had many chances to see Asia’s stars on the big screen outside of Hollywood cameos.

Case in point is Jackie Chan, who despite having made a number of acclaimed films in his native Hong Kong over the last few years, has been largely seen in US takes on China, such as The Karate Kid. Indeed, viewers seeking out any more treasures would be forced to resort to annual festivals, imports or direct-to-DVD releases. Thankfully, Shaolin (新少林寺 aka The New Shaolin Temple) is enjoying a slightly wider release this season, simultaneously with the Chinese release and ahead of the Hong Kong release no less!

Set in the early years of the republic, feuding warlords threaten to rip apart China in their struggle for power. Young army leader Hou Jie (Andy Lau, Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame) and his sworn brother Cao Man (Nicholas Tse, The Stool Pigeon) have carved up the land with little resistance, including the town of Dengfeng. The esteemed local Shaolin Temple – the birthplace of martial arts – takes in some of the wounded, and Hou Jie acts swiftly against Shaolin to make an example of them. However, when Cao Man betrays Hou Jie, wiping out his entire family, he must turn to the temple for assistance and a shot at redemption.

A loose reworking of 1982’s Shaolin Temple, the debut film of superstar Jet Li, this lavish production comes to us from director Benny Chan (City Under Siege, New Police Story). So as to not to damage the real Shaolin Temple, Chan and his company built a 10 million yuan (US$1.47 million) temple to stage the production, and create an endless series of explosions. Yet being the birthplace of martial arts, one would expect a certain level of fisticuffs throughout proceedings, and on this level the film delivers in spades, although none of the fight sequences seem to go on nearly near long enough. Yet what these fights lack in length they make up for in volume, with a seemingly endless series of fists flying back and forth between the factions. The climactic battle sequences are indeed impressive, although they take up much of the latter part of the film.

It is this length that is the biggest gripe of the piece, with the back-half of the film drawn out unnecessarily. Yet Shaolin is fast and furious in all other aspects. The concentration on action barely allows seasoned actor Andy Lau to flex his dramatic muscle, yet his casting was clearly a conscious one given his lack of a martial arts background. Indeed, international superstar Jackie Chan is given a minor, yet pivotal, role as a comedic Cook. Yet given that recent years have seen Benny Chan slum it with the likes of Rob-B-Hood, this is a much-needed return to form for the director and an epic martial arts film of the kind audiences outside of Asian have been missing for several years.

The Reel Bits: Despite a drawn-out series of exploding temples, and a simple morality play that only scrapes the surface, this is the kind of martial arts epic that works best on the big screen.

Shaolin was released in Australia from Hopscotch and Dream Movie (Australia) on January 20, 2011. It premieres in Hong Kong on January 27, 2011.

January 25, 2011
Japanese Film Festival 2010: Wrap Up
It has been half a week since the end of the Sydney leg of 14th Japanese Film Festival, and we’re slowly coming down off the dizzying heights of the best that Japanese cinema has to offer us. Is Post Festival Displacement (PFD) a treatable disorder, and if so, can we claim it on Medicare? With sleep patterns more or less back to normal, and all of my individual reviews now completed, I thought it would be a good chance to go back and review the week that was and pick my top 5 or so films. Having managed to catch 18 out of the whopping 22 films on offer, every single one of which is reviewed on this blog, what better way to wrap up than highlight some of the audience and my personal favourites from the festival?

Now in its 14th year, the festival has grown from 5 films and 500 guests to a reported 7,700 people in 2010 and sold out sessions such as Hanamizuki, Confessions, Shodo Girls and The Summit. The real joy of a Festival, of course, is discovering films that you wouldn’t otherwise see in mainstream or even smaller cinemas throughout the year. Indeed, thousands of films go unreleased in Australia every year, with festivals such as these the primary and sometimes only way for Australian audiences to enjoy the best foreign language films from around the world. Previous film festivals have given us our first looks at films such as the Oscar-winning Departures, ALWAYS – Sunset on Third Street, Still Walking, Memories of Matsuko, Kamui and Kabei – Our Mother.

The selection of films this year was about as diverse as one could get, from the sports film and audience favourite Feel the Wind to the closing night medical drama A Lone Scalpel. Long gone are the days when Japanese cinema could simply be classified as jidai-geki (or period dramas) or gendai-geki (contemporary dramas). Each of the films on the menu revealed a little bit more about Japanese culture and the Japanese state of mind, and each was as different from the last. The ghost of Yasujiro Ozu hung over many of the films this year, with young and contemporary filmmakers seemingly eschewing the fast-paced US influences that the entire exploitation genre appears to have aped, and choosing a more studied and measured pace. This was definitely true of the aptly name Kyoto Story, but could also be found in diverse selections like the samurai Sword of Desperation and Villon’s Wife.

Yet it would be a mistake to think that contemporary Japanese filmmakers are merely rehashing the past. Although there may be elements of the masters in all of these works, these films all offer ways of storytelling that only the cinema can offer. So without any further ado, which ones were my favourites? After a little bit of list reshuffling, my Top 5 films for the 14th Japanese Film Festival are:
1. FLOWERS
2. Confessions
3. Solanin
4. Sword of Desperation
5. Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror
It was a difficult decision, especially between the top two films, but FLOWERS just bowled me over from the first frame. Employing some of the finest actresses working in Japan today, the film is for lovers of cinema of all eras, and there is a great deal to be found in this wonderful piece that spans over 70 years of Japanese, and in turn, Japanese cinema history. Confessions, Japan’s official entry for the best foreign film category at the Academy Awards, is brutal and confronting but impossible to ignore. Definitely a tale on equal footing with Park Chan-wook’s Oldboy. Solanin made me cry (repeatedly), and was one of the must-see entries at this year’s festival for anybody who puts all of their energy into merely existing. Sword of Desperation was a genuine surprise: a samurai film with Ozu sensibilities and a spectacularly bloody finale. It will no doubt have a second life on DVD and Blu-ray. Last, but definitely not least, was Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror. Production I.G.’s first feature with their 3DCG unit fills that wonderful void between Toy Story, Alice in Wonderland/Spirited Away and The Wombles, but still feels fresh and original. You can visit the links above for full reviews of each of the films.

Picking the top five is like picking your favourite breath of air at times, and there are always going to be a few excellent films that miss out on the top cut. Everybody I know seemed to love Feel the Wind, although I couldn’t help but think that we’d seen this kind of sports movie before (and we saw it again by the end of the Festival, with Box!). Yet it is an audience favourite and worth a mention here on that account. The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones was also an amazing achievement in Japanese cinema, a mountain-climbing epic shot over 200 days on location with no special effects. If for no other reason, one should seek this out (on the biggest screen possible) for the breathtaking cinematography. Flavor of Happiness , Dear Doctor and Kyoto Story were all films that I certainly enjoyed at the time of watching them, but the quality of the Top 5 certainly eclipsed them. Each one certain deserves a wider release though.

Naturally, there were a few disappointments in the list. For all the promise of “Hitchcock meets Charlie’s Angels“, Zero Focus was an exercise in style over substance, and needlessly complicates what is otherwise a simple tale of murder and intrigue. Likewise, despite making virtually every Japanese Top 10 list for 2009, Villon’s Wife is a slow-moving tale that keeps the audience at arm’s length for much of the distant narrative, with a titular lead that often behaves incomprehensibly. However, these were minor blips in what was otherwise a strong and diverse selection of Japanese film. On a semi-related note of disappointments, due to scheduling clashes, this was the first year that audiences have not been able to see all of the films on the bill, especially in the case of the Anime Masturi films. A real shame for audiences was having choose between the panel discussion and student film screening with Kyoto Story and FLOWERS, which may have split the audience and disappointed some. I personally regretted missing out on Castle Under Fiery Skies, Time of Eve/Precious double-bill and the student film, Wish You Were Here. As the Japanese Film Festival gets bigger every year, this seem inevitable.

What festivals such as this continue to highlight is their own importance in bringing world cinema to our screens. Although the festival circuit is increasingly crowded – it sometimes seems that not a week goes by without some genre or country specific festival running – these may be the only time Australians get to see foreign language films in cinemas. If you are as passionate about world cinema as we are, contact the local distributors and let them know that you are interested in seeing these films Down Under. Better yet, vote with your wallet: buy your foreign films from distributors like Madman, Hopscotch, Dendy, Umbrella and similar local purveyors of fine foreign language films, rather than importing from Amazon. Send a clear message that ‘Australians love seeing a good film’, regardless of where it is from.

This concludes our coverage of the always excellent 14th Japanese Film Festival. At the time of writing, the Melbourne run of the Festival is now on, so hopefully this will help you navigate through some of the excellent choices this year. We’d like to thank the organisers of the 14th Japanese Film Festival for providing us with press access, screeners, invites to contribute to their blog and a damn fine festival generally. Here’s looking forward to the 15th anniversary of the Japanese Film Festival in 2011, and you can count on The Reel Bits being at as many sessions as possible!

For complete reviews for all 18 films seen, please visit our Japanese Film Festival category.
December 2, 2010
A Lone Scalpel (Japanese Film Festival 2010)

The Closing Night of the 14th Japanese Film Festival in Sydney is an adaptation of Doctor Toshihiko Oogane’s bestselling novel. Drawing on the controversial topic of human organ transplant from brain-dead patients in Japan, where brain-death was not legally recognised for a number of years, it is the second film in the festival (after Dear Doctor) to deal with the Japanese health system in regional areas. Released to moderate box office success in June this year, it is an unusual choice for a closing night film. Most closing night films tend to be something a bit more lighthearted and fluffy, such as last year’s Chef of the South Pole or the often funny and beautiful Departures in 2008. So a serious dissection of the politics of organ donation was completely unexpected on the final night of what has been an excellent festival.

Hotshot Doctor Touma (Shin’ichi Tsutsumi, Villon’s Wife) arrives at a regional hospital and immediately revolutionises the way surgery is performed. The hospital, and in particular the disgruntled and disillusioned nurse Namiko Nakamura (Yui Natsukawa, Still Walking), is awakened to a new way of doing things. No longer will patients be sent to the ‘big university hospital’ for surgery, as Touma builds local confidence with a charter of putting the patient before procedure. However, this revolutionary attitude is challenged when the hospital must choose whether or not to donate the organs of a recently brain-dead patient when the mayor (Akira Emoto) suddenly collapses. With brain death organ transplants illegal in Japan, will Touma risk being charged with murder to maintain his principles?

A Lone Scalpel (孤高のメス) deals with some incredibly weighty themes, and the ‘Apply to donate’ application forms left on our cinema seats is indicative of the immediacy of the issue. Unfortunately, with A Lone Scalpel the weighty themes come coupled with a fairly heavy-handed approach, and the options between ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ are never any greyer than ‘black’ or ‘white’. Although brilliant acted as always, the character of Kimiko Yo’s (Dear Doctor, Departures) grieving mother feels like she could have stepped out of any ‘Movie of the Week’. Actually, that’s not a bad description for A Lone Scalpel: a highly ‘issues’ based movie that eschews complex drama for a simplistic depiction of a very important issue.

A Lone Scalpel is a competent film without soaring. Highlighting the problems with any health care system is a social responsibility that more filmmakers should embrace, and on one level A Lone Scalpel should be admired for discussing the importance of organ donation in mainstream Japanese cinema, especially in a nation that still has a number of taboos surrounding death (there’s another connection with Departures). However, the film’s politics are blatantly clear from the outset, and while there is some decent direction and well-executed medical sequences from Izuru Narushima, there’s little here to lift this above an average episode of E.R.

A Lone Scalpel is playing at the 14th Japanese Film Festival nationally. It is due to play again at Melbourne on 7 December 2010.

December 1, 2010
Sword of Desperation (Japanese Film Festival 2010)

The history of Japanese cinema has long been defined into a number of key genres that reflect the history of Japan itself. Arguably the most famous of these is the jidai-geki, or period dramas, and consist of films largely set in the Edo Period of Japan (1603 – 1868), with samurai cinema such as Rashomon, Yojimbo and Ran being an obvious sub-genre of this. Along with gendai-geki (contemporary dramas) and shomin-geki (realist films such as the works of Yasujiro Ozu). This latest film from director Hideyuki Hirayama manages to draw on several layers of this amazing tradition.

As the film opens, swordsman Kanemi Sanzaemon (Etsushi Toyokawa, 20th Century Boys) stabs and kills the Lady Renko (Megumi Seki), mistress to the Lord Tabu Ukyou (Jun Murakami, All to the Sea). This crime is normally punishable by beheading, yet Sanzaemon is spared. Instead, he is imprisoned in isolation for a year, during which time we learn of the corruption of Renko, and the growing rift that is forming between the Lord and his cousin Hayatonosho Obiya (Koji Kikkawa). When Sanzaemon is released and promoted to chief attendant, things really start to get complicated.

Many commentators have made a big deal of the similarities between this and the films of Yasujiro Ozu (Late Spring). At first glance, I wondered where this comparison could have come from. This is, after all, a film about a brutal murder and an elaborate plot of political intrigue. On closer inspection, the film is only about those things on the surface, and is principally concerned with the spaces in between. There are long scenes where ostensibly nothing happens, but there is always a brooding tension just boiling underneath the surface. Toyokawa epitomises this understated character type, having recently come off the slightly more over-the-top version of the honourable samurai in 20th Century Boys as the “Shogun”. When the tension finally breaks, it is explosive. The film concludes, as it began, with a violent act. However, the final moments of the film are so blood-soaked it is almost as if the very emotional core of the film itself has finally been let loose and embodied in a very skilled and slightly miffed samurai.

Possibly the pinnacle of all samurai storytelling, simply because it draws on all of the influences of Japanese cinema. Sword of Desperation (必死剣鳥刺し)is simultaneously an impeccable samurai/period film and a quiet shomin-geki film, with the castle serving as a de facto for the family home that characterised Ozu’s films. Even nature is used as an oppressive force, heightening the tension inherent to the situation.

Easily one of my Top 5 films from the 14th Japanese Film Festival, Sword of Desperation is a slow-burning drama-cum-samurai film that should be seen as a classic piece of cinema for generations to come.

Sword of Desperation is playing at the 14th Japanese Film Festival nationally. It is due to play again at Melbourne on 5 December 2010.

November 30, 2010
The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones (Japanese Film Festival)

Prior to the availability of handheld GPS, people used to rely on these things called maps and surveying to find their way around the world. It sounds like some kind of madness, but apparently they didn’t have the Internet in those days either. (It’s ok, we can say what we like about them here: they’ll never know). In order to plot out these so-called maps, surveyors would have to use carefully places survey stones, often requiring treacherous climbs to the peaks of mountains to get an accurate representation of the topography. In early twentieth-century Japan, one of the last great mountains to be opened was Tsurugi-dake or Mt. Tsurugi. With its sheer cliff faces and 2,999 m (9,839 ft) height, it is known as the “most dangerous mountain” for climbers.

It’s the early part of the 20th century, and the Japanese government wants their maps in order. With a group of amateur mountain climbers eyeing off the peak, an army survey party is ordered to be the first to the peak and claim the honours for the military. Yoshitaro Shibasaki (Tadanobu Asano, Villon’s Wife) leads up the army team, seeking out the help of villager Chojiro Uji (Teruyuki Kagawa, 20th Century Boys and Dear Doctor), they survey the mountain range before taking the rest of the team towards the top in a dangerous race for glory.

As a cinematic achievement, The Summit is phenomenal. Choosing not to use a single frame of computer graphics, veteran cinematographer Daisaku Kimura shot The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones (劔岳　点の記) shot the film in actual mountains over 200 days to give the film a sense of realism and beauty. This schedule was apparently quite gruelling on the cast and crew, often shooting at 3,000 meters above sea level with a wind-chill factor of -40 degrees Celsius. That’s cold people. The results are simply breathtaking, with every other shot of a mountain range, a pristine blue-skied landscape or brilliant white slopes of snow. It is a side of Japan rarely seen on film, and perhaps this is why it is so startling. The film spans the seasons, so we truly get a sense of the majesty of the Japanese mountain ranges, and how many different types of natural beauty there are packed into this small island nation.

Renaissance man Tadanobu Asano gives a terrific performance as the stoic Asano, and much of this is the terrific interplay he has with Kagawa, who won Best Supporting Actor at the 33rd Japan Academy Awards for his performace. Both actors appear to be in every Japanese film at the moment, with Asano and Kagawa in Festival stablemates Villon’s Wife and Dear Doctor respectively). Indeed, Asano is due to appear in the Hollywood superhero movie Thor next year, and it may only be a matter of time before Japan loses him forever to the lure of Tinseltown. Mind you, it hasn’t stopped crossover actors like Ken Watanabe (The Last Samurai, Batman Begins): he snatched the Best Actor award from Asano for his performance in The Unbroken. Asano, by the way, has a second and third successful ‘other’ life as a musician and artist, but it is unlikely he will ever have to quit his day job.

Unsurprisingly, Kimura won Best Director for The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones, one of the most impressively staged films in Japanese history. Along with Japan Academy Awards for Cinematography, Music, Lighting Direction and Sound Recording, it is easily the most technically capable Japanese film in years. While perhaps the whole thing gets a little overwhelming at times, and the climb goes incredibly slowly in some bits and baffling fast in others, this is a true piece of cinema, accomplishing only those things that can be done on the big screen.

The Summit: A Chronicle of Stones is playing at the 14th Japanese Film Festival nationally. It is due to play again at Melbourne on 6 December 2010.

November 29, 2010
Box! (Japanese Film Festival 2010)

Sport films tend to follow a fairly standard pattern, and are always good for a bit heart-string pulling in the audience. We’ve already had one sports film this year at the Japanese Film Festival in Feel the Wind, two if you count the competition performance calligraphy of Shodo Girls, both of which featured the underdog battling against the bigger competitors for the ultimate prize.

Boxing films have always been at the heart of this genre, possibly due to the protagonist having to literally fight his or her way to the top. Going back to at least 1976’s Rocky and the operatic heights of Martin Scorsese’s Raging Bull, it seems that strapping on the gloves and stepping into the ring is Oscar gold, with the more recent Million Dollar Baby earning four Academy Awards including Best Picture.

Box! (ボックス！), distinguishable from Richard E. Kelly’s similarly titled The Box by the handy ‘!’ at the end of the title, follows this grand tradition with the tale of two friends. When high-school student Yuki (Kengo Kora, Solanin) is rescued from some street toughs on a train by Kabu (Hayato Ichihara, Rookies), they realise that they were childhood friends prior to Yuki moving away. Reunited, Kabu convinces Yuki to join the high school boxing club, and eventually compete in regional tournaments. The most feared boxer in their weight division is Inamura (professional boxer Suwa Masashi), and it is only a matter of time before one (or both) of them must face him.

Box! follows a fairly predictable path, with a fairly set path towards the final confrontation between newcomer Yuki and his foe Inamura. By the time they meet, it isn’t so much about winning for Rocky…erm… Yuki, it is about going the distance. So the path they follow is a predictable one, but the real appeal of any sports film are the characters and their ability to illicit emotion from the audience. Kengo Kora plays completely against his terrific drifter role in Solanin, where he spent most of his energy simply existing. Here he is single-mindedly driven, although is character is similarly singular in his motivations. This isn’t really surprising when your primary foe is non-actor Masashi, whose own performance is restricted to a series of snarls and menacing (and occasionally homoerotic) stares in the direction of our two leads. Only Ichihara, as the all-brawns-no-brains Kabu, is given a bit of depth to play with, especially during his own downslide and the unresolved relationship with the terminally ill Satoko (Mitsuki Tanimura, Summer Wars).

One can be fairly certain of what they are getting when they step into the ring with Box! While this will undoubtedly garner some interest from fans of Toshio Lee and his previous cult hit Detroit Metal City, it merely remains another crowd-pleasing trip of one man going the distance.

Box! is playing at the 14th Japanese Film Festival nationally. It is due to play again at Melbourne on 6 December 2010.

November 29, 2010
Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror (Japanese Film Festival 2010)

Production I.G. has always been a ground-breaker in the Japanese animation industry. Indeed, Production I.G. was the first company to film a series almost entirely in English with Japanese subtitles to reach a wider possible market, starting with the short feature Blood: The Last Vampire. With their latest feature, director Shinsuke Sato (Princess Blade) and animation director Naoyoshi Shiotani (Tokyo Marble Chocolate, in detail below) push the boundaries a little further by attempting the Production I.G’s first production with the 3DCG team in collaboration with Fuji Television Network.

Think of all those favourite things that you had as a child – teddy bears, books, a shell you found at the beach – and wonder where they are all now. This is the premise behind Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror (ホッタラケの島遥と魔法の鏡 / ホッタラケの島　遥と魔法の鏡). When she is young, Haruka’s (voiced by Haruka Ayase, Ichi) mother dies, and Haruka promises to treasure a mirror gifted to her for as long as she lives. When she grows older, the mirror is forgotten until the day she spots a mysterious little creature running away with a toy plane. She soon finds herself on the magical Oblivion Island, a place made up entirely of lost things collected by the island’s inhabitants. Reunited with toys of old, she is determined to reclaim her mother’s mirror from the nefarious Baron, and maybe even save the day in the process.

Oblivion Island is an absolute delight. Somehow filling the familiar void between Toy Story, Alice in Wonderland/Spirited Away and The Wombles – or more accurately The Borrowers, also recently adapted by Studio Ghibli as The Borrower Arrietty – it also feels fresh and startlingly original. Taking that winning combination of high-concept adventure and ultra-Japanese cuteness (or ‘Kawaii!’), it is difficult to find fault with this wonderful tale. Rather than simply being led by the tale, Haruka is a feisty go-getter, immediately distinguishing her from Alice. The film is also deeply touching, not only in flashbacks to the past (in a wonderfully conceived sequence involving mirrors and “lost” memories), but through the reintroduction to her life of the childhood toy Cotton, a stuffed animal who may possibly be the cutest creation to every grace the screen. If Cotton doesn’t get his own spin-off film, and extensive line of merchandising, then there is no justice in the world.

The 3D CGI animation is not as slick as recent efforts from Disney or Dreamworks, however this is largely due to budgetary restrictions and a historical lack of local Japanese talent in the field of CG animation. Production I.G. has attempted to overcome this with over 200 dedicated staff and a fully equipped production environment, and the results are stunning. While it doesn’t have the finely rendered detail of the latest Pixar film, the animation is absolutely eye-popping in parts, although this is not consistent throughout. According to Oblivion Island‘s official press, it is “a fresh departure from 3DCG animation as we know it today. Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror will inherit the unique expressive style that has made Japanese animation hugely popular around the globe, and at the same time it will pursue a completely different texture from Western style 3DCG animation”. With a story this good it doesn’t matter what is on the screen. The fact that it still looks a treat is just gravy.

Winner of the Animation of the Year at the Japan Academy Prizes 2009 (and a swag of other awards at various festivals), Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror is destined to be a classic.

Tokyo Chocolate Marble

Also screening with Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror at the Festival was Naoyoshi Shiotani’s 2007 directorial debut Tokyo Marble Chocolate. In a cleverly constructed 50-minute piece (or more accurately, two 25-minute pieces) that dissects the relationship of a girl named Chizuru and a boy called Yudai, viewers are taken on an intimate and moving journey. Each piece looks at the anticipation before a major change – be it parting or literally falling in love (falling is a major theme in the films) – but done with a distinctive animation style that is a joy to behold. It may be the only film you ever see featuring a miniature donkey in a nappy.

Shiotani was on hand to answer questions from the audience about both films, and thanks to SMASH! there was a terrifc Anime Matsuri at this year’s Japanese Film Festival. It was going to be a tough call to find even more top-shelf anime after the terrific run of five films at the national Reel Anime festival this year, so well done for putting on a program that still managed to draw a huge crowd and some rabid cosplayers.

Oblivion Island: Haruka and the Magic Mirror and Tokyo Marble Chocolate are not currently available in Australia. Harass your local distributor to get these wonderful films released here.

November 29, 2010
Villon’s Wife (Japanese Film Festival 2010)

The programmers of the 14th Japanese Film Festival have really done their homework this year, capturing a majority of top films from the official ‘Top 10 Japanese Films’ lists of the 2009, along with some of the box-office smashes of 2010. Villon’s Wife (ヴィヨンの妻 / ヴィヨンの妻　～桜桃とタンポポ～) is no exception, making the top 5 of the Japan Times, Yokohama Film Festival, Kinema Jumpo and Eigageijutsu’s lists. Based on the semi-autobiographical Osamu Dazai novel Villon no Tsuma, the film and book take their inspiration from the 15th century French poet François Villon. It also earned director Kichitaro Negishi Best Director in the 33rd Montreal World Film Festival.

Sachi (Takako Matsu, Confessions and Brave Story) and her prodigy writer husband Otani (Tadanobu Asano, Redline and The Summit: A Chronicle Of Stones) are visited by an elderly couple, accusing Otani of stealing their money. When Otani flees, it is revealed that Otani has been drinking his way through the stock of the couple’s bar for quite some time, racking up quite a debt. Sachi agrees to take care of her husband’s debt, and eventually begins to work in the bar initially to pay off her husband’s debts. Enjoying the work, Sachi discovers the depth of Otani’s philandering, including with the slightly unbalanced Akiko (Ryoko Hirosue, FLOWERS, Zero Focus and Departures). Despite Otani’s increasingly destructive and suspicious behaviour, Sachi stands by her man.

François Villon was famous for his literary works, but also his life filled with reckless behaviour and violence. Extending this 15th century hedonistic behaviour to post-World War 2 Japan gives the tale a measured restraint, and some may say that this is too measured. Creeping along at leisurely pace, in the studied way that only a tradition that brought us Yasujirō Ozu could deliver. The film is character driven, but the characters are incredibly difficult to penetrate. We are given glimpses of what motivates each person, although it is incredibly difficult to discover what lies underneath. We have seen so many literary and cinematic tortured or drunken authors in the last few centuries, and Villon’s Wife offers us very little in understanding or even caring about these people who are seemingly destined to be forever condemned to a type of living purgatory.

Perhaps the most difficult thing for audiences to swallow will be Sachi’s continued tolerance for her Otani’s behaviour, with modern audiences undoubtedly crying out for her to leave the bastard and get on with it. For obvious historical and cultural reasons, this may not have been possible for poor Sachi, but her resignation and continued tolerance of the drunken writer borders on the incomprehensible. Perhaps we aren’t meant to understand, we are simply supposed to observe. Outsiders looking in can never hope to fully comprehend the intricacies of a relationship, and 21st Century Australia is about as ‘outside’ as you can get from a tale based on a 15th century French novelist and set in post-War Japan.

Villon’s Wife is playing at the 14th Japanese Film Festival nationally. It is due to play again at Melbourne on 6 December 2010.

November 29, 2010