The Bright Side of Life

Anyone who keeps up with Asian film is probably well aware that the New York Asian Film Festival is raging at full blast right now, giving the residents of that cursed coast their fill of all the best Asian flicks the rest of us will probably catch next year (if we're lucky). Well, with a few exceptions. Tokyo Gore Police played at a special closing night at San Francisco's very own Another Hole in the Head festival, along with Machine Girl. And Sion Sono's Exte was there, though that's hitting DVD in July anyway. And we got Dai-Nipponjin at the SFIFF I suppose. Bah! Anyway! The point is that a great way to keep up on future cult favorites, or even just regular favorites, is to be aware of what's going on in NY right now. Or, since so many great movies from years past have yet to reach our shores, know what went on in NY last year, or the year before.

For instance, know what won the audience award at last year's NYAFF? I'll give you a hint: you're looking at its poster right now. Yup, Tetsuya Nakashima's tragic fairy tale, Memories of Matsuko. You may remember Nakashima from such previous favorites as Kamikaze Girls, and... well, that's probably all you know him from at this point. That's the only one of his films that's really "made it" over here so far (not that he's done too much more than that, cinematically speaking). Anyway, let's take a look at Memories of Matsuko. At the very least, maybe we can get to the bottom of what the hell that wonderfully vague phrase "tragic fairy tale" even means.

Kamikaze Girls... cute!

The film kicks off with Sho, a typical young failed musician type, getting dumped by his girlfriend. Apparently life with him is "a bore," and she wants out. Not one to be beaten down, the not-quite-heartbroken Sho hits Tokyo with a bottle in hand and a furious war cry familiar to all love-scorned young men: "SEX!"

Cut to him passed out in his tiny apartment, surrounded by porn videos, being shaken awake by his father, whom he hasn't seen in two years. He comes bearing the ashes of his estranged sister, Sho's aunt, Matsuko Kawajiri. Apparently she was recently murdered, and Sho's father needs him to clean out her apartment, and take care of a few local details in Tokyo. With an obvious disapproving glance his father takes off, leaving Sho to his work. It's a touching relationship, much like every other father/child "bond" throughout the movie. One has to wonder what Nakashima's relationship with his dad was like...

So Sho heads to Matsuko's place. What he finds there, aside from the endless piles of trash and boy band posters, is a note scrawled on the wall that reads "sorry for being born," apparently written by Matsuko before her death. He also finds a strange picture of her making an oddly hilarious face. His curiosity kicks in, and he goes about trying to discover what the hell this aunt of his was all about. The film unfolds from there in a series of flashbacks, each furthering Matsuko's story a bit more. Sho encounters various friends and acquaintances from Matsuko's past, and with each meeting her life becomes a little clearer. She begins as nothing more than a name attached to a "meaningless" life, and evolves into a complete human being. And naturally, Sho feels the weight of her death grow with every new detail he uncovers. The viewer, of course, is right there with him. As Matsuko's story expands, our emotional connections deepen as well, and the tragedy of her death really starts to pack a whallop.

This makes a lot of sense to me.

Despite how cheesy this all sounds, it's actually surprisingly powerful. Critics have compared Matsuko with the work of Naruse or Mizoguchi, and with good reason. Those familiar with Kamikaze Girls may be surprised to know that this is actually a very serious melodrama... sort of. I mean, if that was all there was to it, it probably wouldn't be worth your time. I certainly wouldn't have gone too far out of my way for it. What makes Matsuko really interesting is what Nakashima does with such a (typically) tragic story. Here's where those familiar with Kamikaze Girls probably won't be surprised. The treatment of these issues is so lighthearted, so happy-go-lucky, that it's almost unbelievable. As we witness Matsuko's life go steadily downhill--through prostitution, abusive boyfriends, murder, loneliness, and more--things couldn't possibly seem more upbeat. Everything is incredibly fantastic, with intensely bright colors and surreal set designs. There's also a healthy dose of animation, with cartoon birds soaring around Matsuko's head as she descends into her own personal hell. And I haven't even mentioned the copious musical numbers. Given this strange visual and tonal style, I feel pretty safe in saying that Nakashima is a fan of Jean-Pierre Jeunet. But then, so am I.

Remember in Kamikaze Girls when Momoko suddenly flies into the air with a sprinkling of fairy dust? Just think of that, but mix it with Matsuko's boyfriend beating the shit out of her. Or Matsuko stabbing her pimp to death, covered with a mist of blood. Or her being disowned by her family after attacking and nearly killing her sickly little sister. And so on. When I say "melodrama," I mean it. It's just the oddest damn thing.

There's been talk in various reviews about this being a film that supports the the Japanese patriarchy, and shows a woman that she needs to be "kept in her place." Some see Matsuko's struggle to find a man, and therefore happiness, as a lesson to other women. "You see what happens when you don't have a husband to keep you in line? Insanity, prostitution, prison, death. Get back in the kitchen." Frankly, I think that's bullshit. I can't possibly believe that Nakashima isn't dealing with the thickest possible layer of irony. Just look at the damn movie! How can you have a woman, beaten to a pulp, on the run from the yakuza that have nearly killed her boyfriend, limping down a road that would fit effortlessly into a PBS children's show, complete with cartoon birds and a face in the moon? I'll tell you how: IRONY. Oh, sweet irony. Nakashima is clearly showing us that life is no fairy tale. It's fucked up, it sucks, it's brutal. It never goes as planned. You start as a fairy princess and end up a hideously obese bag-lady, beaten to death by the side of a river. Get back in the kitchen indeed.

If anything, the film clearly shows why it's a terrible idea for a woman to spend her life struggling to find a man. Instead of actually living, Matsuko spends her entire existence pining after any guy that gives her the slightest amount of attention. This lack of independence is her downfall, and is not in any way celebrated by the film. Well, except for in the various musical numbers, which I've already established are just lousy with irony. They're practically slick with the stuff. So again, I'm afraid I've got to call bullshit on those who take these things at face value. It's like the end of Life of Brian: a group of people crucified, singing "always look on the bright side of life." So it's a happy ending, right? I mean... they're singing!

So that's Memories of Matsuko. It's good, it's strange, it's worth tracking down. Not on DVD in the US yet, no surprise there. But it's around if you know where to look. If Kamikaze Girls is any indication, it'll be out here eventually. And this year's NYAFF promises plenty more gems to watch out for. Strawberry Shortcakes in particular is playing right now, and I can say firsthand it's pretty damn good. Maybe I'll write about that one later. I'd like to watch it again anyway.

Oh, and Nakashima's newest film is coming out later this year (in Japan): Paco and the Magical Picture Book. Having seen the teaser, I can say it definitely looks like a straight-up kids film, but still pretty interesting. Worth keeping an eye on, anyway. Plus, there's a frog prince/knight looking guy in it, who will immediately remind any well-informed person of Frog from Chrono Trigger. Seriously! Get out your SNES if you don't believe me.

Actually, Gang Violence Is Awesome

It's a tough gig being a Takashi Miike fan. One must constantly battle the naysayers (of which there are plenty), and make an effort to somehow keep current with a director who makes movies faster than a normal person can watch them. And it's especially difficult to do from the US, given that most of his films don't come out here for at least a year or two after the fact. And with a handful of new movies every year, it's easy to overlook most of them for the one or two that are getting attention (positive or otherwise). For instance: last year (2007), what was the Miike movie that had everyone talking? Sukiyaki Western Django, of course! No surprise there. It made the rounds at Venice, TIFF, and some others... you'll find no shortage of reviews and discussions about it. I bought the Japanese DVD, and I can say firsthand that it's great. But what about the rest of Miike's 2007 output? What about Like a Dragon, and specifically for this post, what about Crows Zero?

Granted, Crows isn't the kind of movie that will garner any kind of international attention. It's basically a genre pic, though when you're dealing with Miike that means almost nothing. Sukiyaki Western is a genre pic. Gozu is a genre pic. If you've seen either of these movies, you know what a stretch it is to call the former "just" a western, or the latter a plain old yakuza film. So when I say that Crows is a high school gang movie, you can take that for what it's worth (not much). What it definitely is, however, is a commercial film, and one that's aimed straight at the youth of Japan, right down to the teen heart-throb casting. Not exactly the kind of flick to sweep the arthouse circuit, in other words.

I wondered why it was called "Crows" until I saw this shot

The film is a prequel to the Crows manga series (hence: Crows Zero), which is HUGE in Japan. I have a feeling its genesis was exactly the opposite of the kind of twisted alchemy we all assume goes into the conception of a Miike picture. It was likely the brainchild of some marketing a-hole, and it wouldn't surprise me if the only reason they asked Miike to direct was that they knew he could finish it faster/cheaper than anyone else. But that's all speculation. And besides, some of Miike's best work came into being that way.

The setup is a little video game-ish, but it's perfect for a manga series (and by extension, a series of films). Genji, the hardass son of a hardass yakuza boss, transfers to Suzuran High, the toughest school in Japan. His plan? To form an army of followers, and to battle his way through the opposition in order to "conquer" the school. This supposedly impossible feat is the goal of every student in attendance, and the various classes form themselves into ad-hoc armies, with the strongest among them naturally rising to leadership positions.

When Genji arrives, the school is under the thumb of Tamao Serizawa, the one closest to uniting all of Suzuran under his rule. His second in command is Tokiyo, who (naturally) is Genji's childhood friend. Oh, the drama! Given the nature of the plot, character development takes a back seat to the near-endless string of savage gang rumbles, though Miike does manage to scatter little chunks of romance and friendship throughout. With each victory, Genji claws his way a little closer to the inevitable final battle against Serizawa... the battle that every single audience member just knows is going to be bad-fucking-ass.

And it is. Anyone who's seen Dead or Alive knows that Miike never disappoints when it comes to a final showdown.

Which brings up an interesting aspect of the film: it totally glamorizes brutal gang violence, and in the context of a school, no less! Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this is bad--I think it's hilarious. Of course there are the obligatory little clues here and there that fighting may not solve life's problems, but those are completely swept aside by the glamor and excitement that beating the shit out of your classmates promises to bring. I can't imagine a little kid watching this and not being inspired to kick the hell out of everyone he meets. Miike just makes it look so cool. I was half tempted to start a gang war among SFSU's grad programs, just to see who really runs this school. (Of course I know very well that we cinema studies kids are the top dogs... but it'd be nice to bust some heads and get the recognition we deserve, right!?)

Like any Miike film, Crows is strange, and a little uneven. The overall tone completely threw me off until I started thinking of it in more manga-like terms. The abrupt shifts from over-the-top slapstick to brutal violence to actual emotional intensity are a little strange, and those unfamiliar with manga (or anime) will find themselves scratching their heads during quite a few scenes. (For instance: when the most powerful fighter in the school hilariously crashes a minibike into the side of a van, complete with cartoon sound effects. See also: the human bowling pin scene.)

And yet, also like any Miike film, there are plenty of moments that shine through all the genre schlock, the kind of tidbits that fans like me live for... when Miike lets down his guard and squeezes a little brilliance in with the standard (though delightful) B-movie fare. There's an oddly-shifting ratio of brilliance in Miike films (Gozu being an example of 100% brilliance, I would say), but it's always there if you look for it. Despite his best efforts, Miike continues to create art... and Crows is no exception. I won't go into detail here, mostly because I'd hate to throw out too many spoilers before people in the US can even watch the damn thing.

Now that I think of it, that's one major problem with the movie: it's not out here yet. The Japanese DVD came out in April, but unfortunately it lacks English subtitles. So... shit! Sucks for you guys! At the current rate Crows Zero 2 will be out before the first one hits our humble shores. But if it follows the pattern for Miike sequels, it will likely be ten times the movie the original was, and will share almost no connections whatsoever. So no big loss!

I'd like to close with a quote from Tom Mes' review of Big Bang Love, which I think sums up the Miike experience perfectly, and is just as applicable to Crows as any of his other films:

"Yes, but is it any good? This is a Takashi Miike film. It will make you wonder, curse, marvel, tremble, scratch your head, grow bored, and awaken rudely. Celebrate it."

The Other Kurosawa

It's strange to me that Kiyoshi Kurosawa is so strongly associated with J-Horror. Maybe it's just a personal thing. I don't really like connecting a director I have a great deal of respect for with a genre that I find to be... well, lacking. With a few obvious exceptions (Kaidan anyone?) I'm just not attracted to the setups, the actors, the imagery... I'm basically just tired of scary little girls with long wet hair, which in my mind is the most elementary building block of any J-Horror film.

Yet then there's Kurosawa, who isn't working in any genre, really. Suspense, maybe? But that's such a vague a classification. Charisma is an interesting example, and one that's discussed a lot less than his better known (masterpiece?) Cure. The plot is either entirely inexplicable or completely mundane, depending on your point of view. Basically: a disgraced cop leaves Tokyo, heads to the middle of an unnamed forest, and ends up stranded. He meets three weird groups of people, whose actions all seem to revolve around a strange tree in the middle of a clearing. He ends up living in an abandoned sanitarium with a former mental patient who uses whatever means necessary to ensure the safety of the tree (which he calls "Charisma"). Oddness ensues.

"Charisma" in all its glory

Tom Mes, in his review, draws connections between Charisma and Suna no Onna. He doesn't go into great detail and neither will I... the parallels are there if you feel like drawing them. Yet while I was watching it I wasn't thinking of Teshigahara (or Kobo Abe for that matter), but was instead reminded of Haruki Murakami, that other brilliant Japanese author.

It's tough for me to say why, exactly. Granted, I'm a little biased--Murakami's been my favorite writer for some years now--but it's not just that. There are links between the two, stylistic and otherwise. Charisma's protagonist, Yabuike, is strangely detached, and overly accepting of whatever's presented before him. In an otherwise "real" world, he finds nothing odd about a seemingly enchanted tree, or any of the other bizarre elements of the story. Given no other choice, both he and the viewer have to deal with the dissolution of reality in the best way they know how. And this is another thing that brought Murakami to mind: the fragmentation of reality, especially within some isolated, obscure, enclosed setting. His writing is rife with buildings, rooms, forests, and (especially) wells, all of which exist in their own unique "reality." Whatever happens there isn't strange--it makes perfect sense according to the rules of that place. And there's always the chance that these places aren't "places" at all, but something far more subjective and abstract... closer to a state of being, you might say (though I don't think that's entirely accurate either).

Nonsense!

And much like Murakami's writing, Kurosawa's lens presents this strange existence in a straightforward, unintrusive style. Wide shots, long takes, little to no camera movement--we get the necessary image, and no more. In fact, in keeping with a typical Japanese aesthetic, he manages to give us just a little less than we'd normally expect. The viewer is almost always kept outside the action, looking in. In another film we might consider this a voyeuristic gaze, but here it feels like something different. The image isn't obscured as much as it's framed by these enclosures.

Outside looking in

I suppose I should clarify one thing: I'm not suggesting that Kurosawa is in any way influenced by Murakami directly (although I certainly can't be sure either way). It seems more likely that (at least with Charisma) Kurosawa is working within a very similar--but unrelated--aesthetic and thematic realm. I've actually noticed a unity in style among almost all Japanese directors who cut their teeth working in V-Cinema, churning out endless straight-to-video yakuza pictures. Takashi Miike, in particular... if any consistency whatsoever can be claimed across his heroic oeuvre, it's an adherence to this particular style of shooting. Long takes, wide shots, little camera movement. My personal belief is that what began as economy evolved into aesthetics, but I'll leave that discussion for another time.

The typical setup for a Kurosawa dialogue scene

Now that I think about it, I suppose the strongest connection I can draw between Charisma and Murakami's writing is a little vague, and entirely personal: they both leave me with a similar feeling, a certain undefinable taste in my mouth. One that I quite enjoy, obviously. It's not even that it's a such great film, necessarily. It just... appeals to me. I guess it might be useful to stop comparing them to each other and instead look back further to a body of work that likely spawned both Murakami and Kurosawa: namely, Kafka. But I'm tired, and this is probably already too long.

This post brought to you by several tasty bottles of Guinness, which I blame entirely for any lapses in spelling, grammar, or logic.

David Byrne Would Be Proud

Sometimes a tagline says more than I ever could:

"Herbert West has a good head on his shoulders... and another one on his desk."

Accurate? Yes. Hilarious? Slightly. Intriguing? You had better goddam believe it. This is Stuart Gordon's greatest film, his magnum opus: Re-Animator. Like many of Gordon's films, it's based on an H.P. Lovecraft story, but only in the loosest possible sense. It takes place within the Lovecraft universe, certainly, but transposed into the "contemporary" era of the 1980s. I've actually read the story, so I can go ahead and sum up the major differences between the film and its source:

1. The movie isn't the most racist short story ever written
2. Due to Lovecraft's intense hatred of females, there are considerbly fewer boobs in the story (none?!)

...and that pretty much covers it. If your appetite for racism is matched only by your distaste for the female form, definitely check out the story. I can print you out a copy. It's surprisingly frightening.

Otherwise, I can't recommend the movie enough. Despite its unfortunate lack of lumbering Negro murderers, it still manages to capture that certain something that makes reading Lovecraft occasionally worthwhile. The plot is more or less your run-of-the-mill Frankenstein ripoff, but with an exciting twist! Instead of harnessing the the mysterious power of the ALMIGHTY ELECTRON to raise the dead, Herbert West simply injects corpses with his own carefully researched "re-agent." The result--depending on the freshness of the corpse, and the amount of re-agent administered--is a mindless, violent, zombie-like creature.

Re-Agent: mostly glow stick innards, some radiation.

Things start getting tricky when Dr. Hill (the film's main jerk-ass) discovers West's secret, and attempts to blackmail him so he can claim the discovery as his own. Lucky for us, this leads to one of the all-time great decapitations in film history. Which in turn leads to one of the all-time great oral sex scenes in film history! Yay!

Barbara Crampton, as always, is a delight. Keep up the good work Barbara! Way to get sexually munched on by a corpse!

As hard as it is to imagine, things escalate even further from there. A trip to the morgue means more corpses, and more corpses means more fun! The film actually starts to get pretty scary toward the end (thanks to some ridiculous lighting and fog effects), and there's plenty of excellent gore. It also completely stops making sense. Apparently the re-agent has capabilities that West hadn't planned for, like exploding people's torsos open so their intestines can drag bystanders away for some sinister corpsely purpose. I guess it's about as logical as anything else in the Lovecraft universe...

I mentioned Barbara Crampton already, but really everyone in the movie is great. Bruce Abbott as the spindly med student hero, David Gale as the lecherous Dr. Hill, Robert Sampson as Dean Halsey (who sounds exactly like Dick Van Dyke, I don't care what anyone says), and of course Jeffrey Combs as the brilliant and terrifying Herbert West. And a special mention goes to Combs' forehead, which manages to inspire a particular variety of inexplicable dread previously thought to be long extinct.

Please note: forehead terror.

And while we're on the subject of dread, I should probably mention one of Re-Animator's major selling points. It's chock full of everyone's favorite film phenomenon: dead nudity! Since the majority of the "zombies" are coming straight off the slab, very few are clothed. Once they ditch that white sheet, they're 100% free and natural. White corpses, black corpses, male corpses, female corpses, fresh corpses, hideously mangled corpses--all are given equal opportunity to flap their junk around on screen for your enjoyment. I respect that.

Finally, I should probably note that Re-Animator has two existing sequels: Bride of Re-Animator, and Beyond Re-Animator (both directed by Gordon's friend and coworker, Brian Yuzna). Neither are worth your time. Rather than watch the sequels, I'd just suggest watching the original another two or three times. Then watch it again. Recently there's also been talk about Gordon trying to get a new sequel off the ground, somewhat unsuccessfully. Entitled House of Re-Animator, it's supposed to be set in the white house, leaving plenty of room for hilarious political satire. In theory. Yuzna has already expressed interest in directing the two shitty sequels to THAT one as well. (I'm not making that up.)

So to summarize: racism, boobs, glow sticks, cunnilingus, intestines, forehead, dead nudity, white house. Equals Re-Animator! Capiche?

Pretty Boy... Surfer

The time: 1993. The place: California, USA.

Our scene opens as the walking hairflip that is Mitchell Goosen (as portrayed by Shane "Mitchell Goosen" McDermott) is coming home from a long day of surfing, only to find that his parents are making plans to head to Australia for 6 months, leaving him to rot in the snowbound wasteland of Cincinnati. Gasp! Can Mitchell survive so far away from his beloved Pacific? Can he nail the antagonist's sister? Will Cousin Wiley (Seth Green) ever be cool? Can all the former enemies in the film come together as a team to beat those jerky Preps in a death-defying skating race down the infamous "Devil's Backbone?" All this and more in the "world's only rock 'n rollerblade movie!" Airborne, directed by the incomparable (ha!) Rob Bowman, is a testament to the importance of being a white guy with jean shorts and a sparkling smile in a world gone sour.

Unfortunately, this little flick has been largely ignored by the greater portion of nostalgia-hounds that would normally eat this kind of bullshit up. Shame on them. If you're going to obsess over ridiculous movies from your childhood, obsess over the best. I suppose it doesn't help that the only place to get it on DVD is from Germany (dubbed in German, no English subtitles) or from Hong Kong (pirated, naturally, but at least it's in English). I got mine from Hong Kong. But there's always VHS! And strangely enough, there was also a period of about a year (somewhere around 2004, I believe) where this was played on almost a weekly basis on various movie channels (HBO, Showtime, &c.). I'm not really sure why this was, but you might still be able to catch it while you're flipping channels. Just make sure it's not the Steve Guttenberg Airborne from 1998. That is exactly the opposite of everything Mitchell Goosen stands for. That is dog shit.

In any case, here are some important Airborne facts:

1. Jack Black is in it (Oggy!)
2. Seth Green is in it (the Wiley-Man!)
3. Shane McDermott is in it (and nothing else, ever, no matter what)
4. That one chick who played the secretary in Ferris Bueller is in it
5. Nobody else is in it
6. It manges to represent just about every extreme sport that existed at the time, thanks to roughly 60% of its running time being dedicated to extreme sport montages
7. Another 30% is Mitchell making love to the camera
8. The final 20% is the most important part: the tits-out orgy of a rollerblade race that simultaneously acts as the conflict, climax, and resolution of the film
9. Although it seems like those add up to 110%, keep in mind that Mitchell spends at least half of the final race making love to the camera

Mitchell Goosen... he's a dreambag!

Rather than go on and on (and rest assured, I could talk about Airborne for quite some time), I think I'll cut myself off here and just suggest that you go rent/buy/borrow it immediately, and enrich your life in a way you had perhaps thought impossible. Just make sure to keep your ears open for my favorite line of the film, delivered with appropriate disdain from the musclebound Jack:

"Pretty boy... surfer."

Until Airborne opens your eyes to the ways of the world, you might not understand how such a statement could be the most venomous insult you've ever heard. But you will.

Oh, and for those adventurous/alcoholic movie fans out there, I've thrown together an Airborne drinking game that you may want to try out. It's pretty simple: you take a drink every time the movie is awesome. Be careful though--this movie is pretty fucking awesome, most of the time.

A Matter of Quality

I've constructed something that will only be funny to people who enjoy both The Seventh Seal and Silent Hill, although I am beginning to suspect that I may be the only one of these people to actually exist. Hailed as "a peice of shit" by famed youtube user and avant-garde speller AgatheDeLaBoulaye, this video will truly test the limits of what it means to be alive.