The Christmas festivities are
over and the New Year is just a few days away. The following were the films I
watched before and during Christmas. Ironically the films in pairs have
striking similarities and things to compare to one another – excluding The Sun (2005), although even then
comparisons can be made to it amongst the other films despite their obvious
differences - which I only realise typing up these reviews.
From http://twitchfilm.com/assets/2011/08/kotoko_03.jpg_large.JPG |
19th December 2012: Kotoko (Shinya Tsukamoto, 2011)
The story of a single mother who suffers from double vision; caring for
her baby is a nerve-wrecking task that eventually leads her to a nervous breakdown.
She is suspected of being a child abuser when things get out of control and her
baby is taken away. (IMDB)
It is a little disheartening in
the first few scenes to see the director of Tetsuo: The Iron Man (1989) filming in a very low budget,
shot-on-video film, but despite this hindrance, he transcends it and succeeds
to make a great film. Not only does he take advantage of the technical flaws of
the digital camera used to create abstract and nightmarish sequences, but it is
wonderful to see the veteran auteur go full circle and show the beating human
heart that has existed in his films since Tetsuo
II: Body Hammer (1992). Behind the horrible violence in the film, based as
much on its lead actress Cocco’s
experiences with mental illness, are real emotions, the extremities in Tsukamoto’s films a cathartic
representation of the internal conflicts that his characters, including ones
played by himself, suffer from, shown on the beautiful face of Cocco fully in a great central role. Existing
before Japanese cult cinema was about goofy prosthetics and ‘extreme’ content, Tsukamoto’s first film to be released in
Britain in years shows that he is still a unique and talented director.
From http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqwwn5eI2j1qmemvwo1_500.jpg |
20th December 2012: Dans Ma Peau (Marina De Van, 2002)
A woman grows increasingly fascinated with her body after suffering a
disfiguring accident. (IMDB)
It was probably not a good idea
to watch this the day after Kotoko,
both portraying very gruesome sequences and subject matter, but they are an intriguing
pair of films to see one after the other, one a male director who channelled
the observations and thoughts of its lead actress, who was a singer/musician
beforehand, the other the debut of a French actress who placed herself within
the lead role to channel the main concept of the feature without fear of what
she would look like onscreen during certain scenes. Kotoko feels far more successful as it’s from a director who, despite
an even lower budget, can pace his films more steadily, and made a move as much
full of sad tenderness within it alongside the horror, with scenes of Kotoko
with her family and the lead actress’ performance. Dans Ma Peau, viewed in the first time in many years, before my
twenties, is colder, more vicious in tone and content, and eventually starts to
lag before it reaches an implosive climax. It is still an admirable film, far
more than merely sick content, but comparable legitimately to the body horror
films of David Cronenberg in its
distant but probing analysis of the main character’s alien syndrome, the real
life obsession with self harm and distance from one’s body made into a psychological
disorder as much as Cronenberg’s Crash (1996) made the erotic/violent
side of injury and destroyed automobiles into a mental state for its
characters. De Van has made at least
two other feature films, and short works, a striking presence in the main role
as well, which I want to see at some point as the talent she showed in this
shines regardless of the flaws.
From http://auteursnotebook.s3.amazonaws.com/Individual%20images/the-sun.jpg |
21st December 2012: The Sun (Alexander Sokurov, 2005)
Third part in Aleksandr Sokurov's tetrology, following Molokh and
Telets, focuses on Japanese Emperor Hirohito and Japan's defeat in World War II
when he is finally confronted by Gen. Douglas MacArthur who offers him to
accept a diplomatic defeat for survival. (IMDB)
The Sun is an arthouse film in its fullest definition – minimalist yet
dense in its mostly set based locations, slow paced and made of mostly static
camera shots – but is also an exceptionally peculiar film. Already undercut by
the real life history of Emperor Hirohito and how Japan was defeated in
World War II, it becomes far more uncomfortable in its visual look – mostly artificial
sets and images that, unless the version on the Artifical Eye DVD is a rare slip in quality for the company, are
intentionally flawed and grainy in places – and a score that prickles with a
frightening mood. It is a difficult film yet paradoxically it is a simple one:
of an Emperor, chosen by divine blood rite before disavowing his godliness in
surrendering for his country in the war, shown to be human in both his everyday,
pedantic activities and a humanity that, bleeding into the film’s tone occasionally,
allows for moments of light hearted humour as well as its serious ideas. Only the
sequences with General Douglas MacArthur let
the film down a bit, awkward in their introduction of more blatant analysis of
the Pacific War, and that actor Robert
Dawson looks like he has a ridiculously large, prophetic forehead, which a
director as stringent in his work like Alexander
Sokurov should have avoided from the start as such a silly concern is distracting
from the importance of the material.
From http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lj4maf7iFN1qi2jr5o1_500.jpg |
22nd December 2012: Dennis Potter’s Cold Lazarus (Renny Rye,
1996)
Dr. Emma Porlock and her colleagues, attempting to unlock the secrets
of human memory for the Masdon drug empire, get a cryogenically stored
400-year-old human head to project its memories through virtual reality
displays. But Porlock and her team are chronically under-funded, and she may
have to go around Masdon to a media sleaze merchant to get the money she needs
to maintain the project. But an even more complex world of secret police, RON
(Reality-Or-Nothing) riots, and murder is going on outside the lab. And the
deeper Porlock goes into the frozen memories of the writer Daniel Feeld, the
more twisted the labyrinth of intrigue becomes. (IMDB)
I have only seen two of Dennis Potter’s television works, Karaoke (1996) and its quasi-sequel Cold Lazarus, but I can see the talent
he had, a full depth in the dialogue characters speak and willingness as a
writer to undermine and question reality and form, including his own life. Drawing
on his rapidly approaching death, Karaoke
is a fascinating meta mini-series. Cold
Lazarus is such a drastic and unexpected shift for any viewer to encounter,
especially when it continues with its lead character (Albert Finney) existing with an entirely different genre from the
drama of before.
Made in the nineties, and made
for British television, this science fiction work looks like something from its
discordant time period, but its apparent datedness actually adds so much
personality to a mini-series that, while certainly flawed, was a brave attempt
for its script’s author to do, the last before his death that took the risk of
exploring a new genre for himself while tackling his own failing mortality. If one
gets past the ridiculously broad stereotypes of greedy, dumb American business tycoons,
it still has some fascinating ideas on memory, in a way that can go from
intelligent perceptions on it to ridiculously lewd and hilarious dialogue. It’s
also an early role for Ciarán Hinds
who, in a strong cast, stands out immensely.
From http://image.toutlecine.com/photos/i/n/n/innocence-ghost-in-ii-2004-25-g.jpg |
23rd December 2012: Ghost In The Shell 2 – Innocence (Mamoru
Oshii, 2004)
In the year 2032, Batô, a cyborg detective for the anti-terrorist unit
Public Security Section 9, investigates the case of a female robot--one created
solely for sexual pleasure--who slaughtered her owner. (IMDB)
From the films I’ve seen Mamoru Oshii, the original Ghost in the Shell (2005) is a
culturally important landmark, and utterly incredible in its animation, but is
a film with far too many mistakes to be more than a minor film in Oshii’s filmography, especially against works
like Angel’s Egg (1985) and Patlabor 2 (1993), far too bogged down
in its philosophical digressions, in how it is shown rather than the ideas
themselves, and how it is put against its action scenes. Its sequel suffers as
well but controversially I prefer it to the prequel after finally seeing it for
the first time. Its presentation of really intelligent, thoughtful ideas on
human existence is laboured, especially when characters start quoting the Bible
and Confucius, without using its
humour and characters’ eccentricities as fully as something like Cold Lazarus does, and the hand drawn
animation of its prequel is the most striking of the two, but it’s a brave,
utterly beautiful film, regardless of its CGI, and as an action sci-fi movie as
well it is more fulfilling. It, at this moment, has the higher placement above
its prequel for a sequence in a mansion later on, of realities within
realities, that is out-of-the-blues, utterly bizarre and freakish at times, and
incredible in how perfectly put together it is, from how it knocks the viewer
out of their complacency and in how it shows the sequence’s philosophical ideas
so clearly in its intentionally confusion, far more so than anything else
within its story. Alongside the late Satoshi
Kon’s work, it shows that Japanese anime is probably one of the best
artforms to convey the plasticity of human beings’ perception of reality.
From http://s3.amazonaws.com/auteurs_production/post_images/83/Bad_bees.jpg?1272322523 |
24th December 2012: The Valley of the Bees (Frantisek
Vlacil, 1967)
Ondrej, a young boy who loves bees and bats, is introduced to his new
mother, a woman much younger than his father. He brings her a basketful of
flowers which she starts to throw in the air and then gives out a shriek, as
she discovers several bats in the bottom of the bowl. In a rage, Ondrej's
father picks the boy up and hurls him against the wall. As the boy lays on the
ground paralyzed the father promises the Holy Virgin to dedicate the boy to her
if she spares his life. Ondrej survives and is raised in a strict Knightly
Order, where he is mentored by a devout monk, Armin. But one day, an
extraordinary event makes him doubt the Order and remember where he came from.
(IMDB)
It’s surprising how many more
European films from the earlier decades feel far more rigorous in their look
and visual design to many current arthouse films; it’s even more surprising,
and sad, how many modern European films, and arthouse films from any country,
look identical to each other and feel exceptionally inferior to films like Frantisek Vlacil’s The Valley of the Bees. More conventional in tone and structure to
his monolith Marketa Lazarová (1967),
Vlacil’s film is nonetheless a great
analysis of religious ideology and morality filtered through a medieval world
that is vivid in its narrative and the visual splendour Vlacil brought to the material.
25th December 2012: Black Death (Christopher Smith, 2010)
Set during the time of the first outbreak of bubonic plague in England,
a young monk is given the task of learning the truth about reports of people
being brought back to life in a small village. (IMDB)
In contrast to The Valley of the Bees, this is another
medieval set film that fails to work. It is a genre film, of an entirely
different tone and style to Vlacil’s,
but it still fails in terms of what its director intended to do. It could have
been good, but as well as being generic in its blood filled, period story, near
the end it starts to question its supernatural tone, leaving its message
muddled and hacking out its own legs from under it by becoming another modern
genre film that ends on an unsatisfactory note.