Perfect Blue

When you write or direct a film which plays with reality and illusion, you better do it really well because you can either fail hard or succeed. Satoshi Kon's psychological thriller Perfect Blue (1998) belongs to the former category. It is the story of a pop idol who wants to become an actress. Her change of career provokes strong reactions from her fans, one of whom is an obsessive stalker. Before the movie reaches its halway mark, it becomes an insane mindfuck - to say the least.

The story of Perfect Blue has so many interesting elements that are thrown away during the film. For example, it could have been a fascinating cautionary tale of Internet, but that is completely forgotten by the never-ending twists. The dangers of rising to fame are also somewhat forgotten by the end, and the film seems to say nothing about any of the themes it takes on at first. The film loses itself in the ridiculously frantic narrative that only manages to show us how the main character feels like, but it completely deprives the film of having an impact on the viewer. It tries to be psychologically ambitious, but in the end it is a rather shallow in that aspect too. The ending is the biggest offender because it truly shows how the film was only meant to make the viewer wonder what really happened and what didnt - so that we wouldnt be concerned about its ACTUAL depth.

It is a shame how the content is more or less awful because its form is so precise and striking that it almost made me forget the silly narrative. Great compositions, beautiful animation and nice editing redeem the film from doom. Especially the opening sequence is rather impressively done.

In the end, Perfect Blue is a decent film because it is ambitious yet pretentious in its content, but its form is delightful for anyone.

Score: 6 out of 10

Ikiru

Akira Kurosawa's Ikiru (1952) is the story of an old man (Takashi Shimura) who finds out he has only 6 months to live. The film is the portrayal of his struggle after learning about this horrible truth. At the same time, Kurosawa delivers sharp social criticism by taking aim at the horrible bureaucracy that takes place at the office the man works at.

Ikiru is a heartbreaking film which has a few glorious moments of comedy, but in the end it is a tragedy. The film's content works on a personal and a social level: while the old man has to accept his incoming death he goes through a complicated phase of development before the film finally moves onto the strong social criticism. The content's admirable complexity left me in awe. Kurosawa's form doesn't fail either. The powerful camera movement and delicious photography are brilliant as usual.

Score: 10 out of 10

Tokyo Story

Yasujiro Ozu's Tokyo Story (1953) is almost inevitably on every film critic's list of favourite films. It is one of the most praised Asian films all over the world. Now that I rewatched it, I can guarantee that its impact is even bigger the more you watch it. Tokyo Story is the tragic story of an elderly couple who go to Tokyo to visit their children and grandchildren. The longer they stay the more apparent it becomes that the children dont have time for them and treat them rather coldly.

As usually, Ozu creates a fantastic story about a family in Tokyo Story. He observes the Japanese honestly without any exaggeration and the difference he reveals between generations is astounding. Upon meeting their grandparents for the first time, one boy runs away in terror and the other whines about his desk having been moved to make space for the grandparents. The adults only seem to care about their own business and eventually leave the elderly couple on their own. Ozu doesnt make it melodramatic - instead he approaches the sad subject as minimalistically as it is possible. This subtle richness gives it a heartbreaking mood and that way the actual dramatic moments have a lot stronger impact on the viewer.

Ozu's brilliant form is something I will never stop admiring. His camera is always set just a little above the ground and it almost never moves - and when it does move, it's really effective (there is only one moving shot in Tokyo Story). His framing is so brilliant and he likes to come back to the same compositions a few times during the film and it gives the film more poignancy although it does not reach the levels of Hou's City of Sadness in Ozu's Tokyo Story. He breaks a few rules used in Hollywood - like having actors speak their lines directly at the camera (not for comical purposes) and he also broke the so-called 180degree rule once in a while. His films also feature transition shots ("pillow shots") that signal the change of location by using a few shots of scenery. His cinematic language full of these lovely little details that make the films a lot more fascinating to watch.

Tokyo Story is a brilliant, poignant film that deserves all of its praise. Although it might be hard to watch for some people, I would recommend it to anyone. It is one of the greatest films ever made.

Score: 10 out of 10

ANNOUNCEMENT: A short break

After buying a few older films on DVD, I decided to take my first break from this 2000's film project I made this blog for. I will watch a few films not related to my project during the weekend, and I might extend this break until the next weekend if I feel like doing so. I will make similar reviews of these other films as well so this blog wont be quiet during the break.

Syndromes and a Century

Apichatpong Weerasethakul's Syndromes and a Century (2006) continues the director's "traditions": long shots, slow pace and the lack of conflict in the plot. The film is Weerasethakul's own take on how his parents (both of them doctors) met and it is partly based on his memories of growing up in a hospital. The story is divided into two segments which share similar scenes and the same actors (and characters to some degree as well). The "repeated" scenes are however set in different locations and they are viewed from a different point of view (or the result might even be completely changed sometimes). A scene is repeated only one at most, and even then in different segments - so it isnt exactly the modern Last Year at Marienbad. 

The director seems to long for the past because the first segment that takes place notably earlier than the second is treated with more care. The second segment feels more like a piece of sharp social criticism with people acting more like machines and all the characters seem to be so isolated from others. The repetition of similar moments heavily punctuate the narrative, and they also provide a refreshing way to approach the content. It is truthful to say that the film is about the power of memory, but that statement makes the film sound a lot more simple than it really is. The film's content shoots at a lot of direction and thus its content is a bit confusing and nigh impossible to describe perfectly.

The film's dreamlike and hypnotic form deserves a lot of praise. Weerasethakul shows he has the talent and confidence to masterfully use long shots. His use of sound should not be forgotten because it plays a subtle yet significant part in setting the mood for the whole film. The compositions are stunning and I would say the film is worth watching even if it was only for the awesome cinematography.

In overall, Syndromes and a Century is an impressive and experimental film which I would recommend watching if its "meditativeness" doesnt bother you.

Score: 9 out of 10

The Cat Piano

While reading /Film today, I found this article. By reading that article, I found this intriguing short film called The Cat Piano (2009). It is an 8-minute animated short film set in a world populated by cats. Its bebopesque, fantastic art direction is not the only interesting thing about it: the film is also narrated by none other than Nick Cave. There is no dialogue, but the poetic narration can be heard throughout the film. The entire film works like an epic poem, which is certainly interesting. Its form is ridiculously well thought and the world is easy to "get into". As much as I loved the narration, the film's content is a bit dry otherwise, but it works well in general. It is an impressive short film which I would recommend to anyone.

Score: 7 out of 10

The Skywalk Is Gone

The Skywalk Is Gone (2002) is Tsai Ming-liang's short film which shows what happened to the main characters between What Time Is It There? (2001) and The Wayward Cloud (2005). The content is unimpressive, but it is slightly interesting for the fans of Tsai's films. It functions only as a small fraction of a connection between the two films, and as that it is only OK. Tsai's form is dead-on though, and that's the extremely redeeming factor of the film. It is not different from his other films, but it is perfectly executed AGAIN.

Score: 6 out of 10

What Time Is It There?

Tsai Ming-liang's What Time Is It There? (2001) is a film about alienation and loss. As usually with Tsai's films, Lee Kang-sheng plays a character named after the actor himself. This time his father dies, and the film shows us how he and his mother react to the loss. That's only half of the story. He also meets a woman (Chen Shiang-chyi, plays a character named after herself as well) while selling watches on an overpass. Unfortunately, the woman leaves for Paris the next day.

The film focuses on the concepts referred to in the title: "there" and "time". Both of the main characters feel dislocated from time and space. This phenomenon is examined in a poetic way. Lee spends a lot of time alone in his bed - he even resorts to peeing into plastic bags and bottles. He becomes fixated with resetting every clock he sees to the time that is in Paris - he believes he can maintains his relationship with Chen that way. Chen, on the other hand, only finds peculiar guilt and loneliness in Paris.

And because the film is directed by Tsai, there are excellent moments of slapstick in the film. He even applies some of this subtle humor (it is funny to say that slapstick is subtle) to the central themes and motifs, but luckily that doesnt ruin the impact of its content.

The elegance of Tsai's form is stunning. He proves he has his film tightly under his control. The best example of his self-confidence and talent is the very first scene that is constructed of one clever static shot. I believe he used more cuts in this film because the story is split into two storylines, and thus requires more editing. His compositions are not only beautiful, but they also heavily reflect the dislocation the main characters feel.

What Time Is It There? is a stunning film, and I realised my review doesnt entirely express my admiration of it. It might actually be my favourite from Tsai's filmography.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Third List of Scores

The List (39 movies in total)

All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) 10/10
Last Life in the Universe (2003) 10/10
Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) 10/10
Spirited Away (2001) 10/10
In the Mood for Love (2000) 10/10
The Wayward Cloud (2005) 10/10
Visitor Q (2001) 9/10
3-Iron (2004) 9/10
Thirst (2009) 9/10
Children of Men (2006) 9/10
Ichi the Killer (2001) 8/10
2046 (2004) 8/10
Downfall (2004) 8/10
Amores perros (2000) 8/10
American Psycho (2000) 8/10
Monrak Transistor (2001) 8/10
Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on the Heaven's Door (2001) 8/10
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004) 8/10
Hero (2002) 8/10
Antichrist (2009) 8/10
Half Nelson (2006) 8/10
The Man Without a Past (2002) 8/10
Tokyo! (2008) 7/10
Babel (2007) 7/10
Little Miss Sunshine (2006) 7/10
Cutie Honey (2004) 7/10
The Sea Inside (2004) 7/10
Tropical Malady (2004) 6/10
My Winnipeg (2007) 6/10
American Beauty (2000) 6/10
The New World (2005) 6/10
House of Flying Daggers (2004) 6/10
Little Children (2006) 6/10
Sukiyaki Western Django (2007) 5/10
Une catastrophe (2008) 5/10
Tales from Earthsea (2006) 5/10
Dogville (2003) 4/10
Requiem for a Dream (2000) 4/10
21 Grams (2003) 3/10
A Conversation with God (2001) 2/10

Tropical Malady

Apichatpong Weerasethakul's Tropical Malady (2004) is divided into two sections. One is set in modern world and it is closely in touch with reality, but the other handles fantasy and mythology in a peculiar way. These two separate stories are mostly connected by their focus on desire and both of them portray only one central relationship. The first segment is the story of a soldier (Banlop Lomnoi) falls in love with a country boy (Sakda Kaewbuadee) who seems to give some sort of affection in return, but it is never specified if it is love. The second segment focuses on a Thai myth in which a soldier chases a tiger in the jungle.

It is interesting how Weerasethakul creates a "discussion" between these two stories. This active connection between the two stories makes them a bit deeper and more fascinating. It is interesting to see the similarities in the central relationships (soldier+country boy, soldier+tiger). Weerasethakul throws in some distracting elements, like a cautionary tale in the first segment, and the awkward bits of mythology in second one. While the mythology serves as one of the key factors to support the segment's elements of fantasy, it is too vocally pointed at without it being a major element. It even reaches (unintentionally?) comical levels when a monkey starts speaking and offers some proper advice for the soldier. This film left me a bit puzzled: in a way, I could appreciate it for its poetic approach, but it isnt completely solid in that aspect.

Weerasethakul's form consists of long, static shots and usually there is no music to accompany the cinematography. Tropical Malady makes a few exceptions in the first segment: it includes a few off-beat sequences filled with music, and there are a few occasions in which the camera moves a lot. While the cinematography isnt necessarily great in Tropical Malady, its use of sound is brilliant. The silence is effective, and in the second segment the jungle literally becomes alive. It is a great sensory experience.

Typical Malady is a nice experimental film, but in the end it is uneven and lacks the finishing touch.

Score: 6 out of 10

Tokyo!

Tokyo! (2008) is a triptych of stories that all take place in Tokyo. Each segment is directed by a different director: Michel Gondry, Leos Carax and Jong-ho Bong. I would say what all of these segments have in common (besides the location) is that they all somehow deal with our difficulties to communicate and find our place in the society. But it is a lot easier to focus on these segments separately. The film opens with an animated shot of Tokyo with an announcer speaking in the background, as if we - the viewers - would be boarding onto a flight. In my opinion, watching the film feels like one, even if the stories are wildly exaggerated and they dont necessarily try to portray Tokyo honestly.

The first segment is Michel Gondry's Interior Design. Akira (Ryo Kase), an amateur and experimental filmmaker, and her girlfriend Hiroko (Ayako Fujitani) come to Tokyo to release Akira's film and also to find a place to live in. Before finding their own apartment, they move in to live with Akemi (Ayumi Ito) for a few days. From there on, the story becomes a bit different: the main characters face difficulties and in the end it is about Hiroko and her problems to fit into the society. The story takes on a rather wild symbolical path by the end, which even on its own makes the segment worth watching. The story raises enough questions - and its own peculiar way answers them satisfyingly enough, but it is nothing revolutionary. Gondry's visual take on the story is impressive and very fitting. I went bonkers when I heard that both Fujitani and Ito are both in this movie - even more when I realised they are in the same segment. They both perform very well as expected, delightul performances by both of them - even though Ito's character is hardly deep or even good. On its own, I would probably give this segment a 7 as its rating.

The second segment is Leos Carax' Merde. Merde (Denis Lavant) is the main character (pictured above) of the film who is also known as the "Creature of the Sewers" who wreaks havoc in Tokyo once in a while and then disappears. Eventually the Japanese capture him and what happens then is even more bizarre than the beginning. I guess you could interpret the story to be a tale of how different people can be - and how we react to that difference. Yet the screenplay doesnt seem to pick a side - or even a point of view - on the subject and in the end it is quite disappointing. It explores its obvious message on a childish yet peculiar way which seems to be an insult towards weird people in general. Yet it seems to show how cruelly the society takes care of these weird persons. The result is a mess - to say the least. The biggest offender was the nonsensical ending. Carax' form for the story is a weird combination of gritty and clean cinematography. It certainly packs a punch here and there, and it uses some weird devices - like split screen for an entire scene. That's why it feels a bit gimmicky at times, but in general it works to some degree. This segment deserves only a 3!

The last segment is Joon-ho Bong's Shaking Tokyo. It is the story of a Japanese man (Teruyuki Kagawa) who has lived all alone in his apartment for over 10 years and has avoided eye contact with anyone during that time. The story is set into motion once he does make eye contact with pizza delivery girl (Yû Aoi) - with almost catastrophical results. I have to admit the story evolves into something extremely fascinating and thoughtful. This segment alone makes the film worth a watch - or even worth the purchase of the DVD release. In a way Bong shoves the middle finger at what the Japanese society has turned into yet he seems to care deeply for the characters. The story is - as you can guess - about loneliness and the difficulties in communication. Bong's form is nigh perfect with its great compositions and lovely editing. I dont want to reveal too much about the segment, but the content is awesome as well. This segment certainly deserves a 9 at least.

In overall, the film is certainly nice to watch because the segments are so refreshingly different from each other. Even though I disliked the second segment, I can see how it fits into the film and I will probably buy the DVD someday.

Score: 7 out of 10

Une catastrophe

The legendary French film director Jean-Luc Godard made a trailer for the 2008 Viennale film festival. This trailer was called Une catastrophe, and it is Godard's poetic way to briefly look at violence and love in films. Its length is only ONE MINUTE. The short film is a montage of video and sound clips from other movies - including Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin (1925). The trailer / short film also features a German poem. Une catastrophe is eligible for my project so I thought I should briefly mention it on this blog after I watched it. It's a solid work of art, but nothing more.

Score: 5 out of 10

PS: You can even watch it on YouTube!

Sukiyaki Western Django

No matter how you try to describe it, Takashi Miike's Sukiyaki Western Django (2007) will always sounds silly - because the film is utterly silly as well. It is a Japanese western which - at the same time - both pokes fun at the entire genre and works as a respectful tribute for the genre. Combine that with Miike who chooses the extremely absurd and tongue-in-cheek way to approach the story. Initially, the film's story is very similar to Kurosawa's Yojimbo (the story of which was altered for Sergio Leone's A Fistful of Dollars as well): a skilled gunman gets mixed up with two warring clans who are looking for a treasure. The peculiarness can be spotted from the get-go, but at some point the story spirals out of control and - in a way - turns into something that is really hard to describe for someone who has not seen the film.

Sukiyaki Western Django is too funny to be taken seriously at any point - even though it seems to take itself seriously at a few points. It doesnt really have a lot to say about anything, it's simply BONKERS. The whole cast speaks their line in English (with only one line spoken in Japanese) only because it sounds funny. However, the joke doesnt remain funny throughout the film and becomes a little dry and weary by the end of the film. Luckily Miike's playful form makes the film somewhat funny: bright colors, silly Dutch angles and wild editing. The explosive and ridiculously complicated finale was a pleasant surprise after the unevenness that the rest of film suffers from. Quentin Tarantino's small role is a nice addition to the film, but it is forgettable in the end.

Sadly, Miike does not succeed in controlling his absurdity, unlike in Visitor Q and Ichi the Killer. He loses himself into poking fun at everything and the messy narrative. He isnt even able to craft unforgettable characters in this film. There are a few moments of true brilliance and the form is fine most of the time, but ultimately the film is more or less a mess. It is too self-aware for its own good.

Score: 5 out of 10

Spirited Away

The Japanese animation studio called Studio Ghibli is one of the best known animation studios, and high quality is always guaranteed for all of the films they produce. Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away (2001) is probably the most famous title of their filmography, and probably the most critically acclaimed as well. Spirited Away is the story of a young, insecure Japanese girl who enters a fantasy world after her parents are turned into pigs due to their greed. 

Spirited Away has a vast amount of things going on under the surface. It is full of brilliant metaphors ranging from environmental themes (Miyazaki examines the current condition of Japanese rivers) and search of identity (in a literal way on a grand scale) to simple things (like a giant baby). Despite being "awfully rich" in its content, Spirited Away delivers a fascinating and gripping adventure that rivals most other adventurous cinematic stories.

Hayao Miyazaki was actually going to stop making films after Princess Mononoke (1997), but after he was his friend's sullen 10-year-old daughter, he was inspired to make Spirited Away. He wants to deliver a message for the insecure and shy Japanese youngsters in Spirited Away through the main character. Because of that Miyazaki said the film is "for the people who used to be 10 years old, and the people who are going to be 10 years old."

Miyazaki's talent as a great storyteller shouldn't go unnoted. The film progresses on a rapid pace yet it is so charmingly calm and feels far from a rushed narrative. The narrative flows smoothly throughout the film. Miyazaki also has a great eye for editing which strongly supports his storytelling.

It has become Studio Ghibli's trademark to draw breathtaking and haunting backgrounds for their films. The entire world literally becomes alive through the stunning background art. The quality of animation is ridiculously high. Chihoro's movement is so animated with a stunning amount of detail. The film's character and creature design are spot-on as well.

Spirited Away is a FANTASTIC film - even by Ghibli's high standards. I believe no one can resist its delicate charm.

Score: 10 out of 10

American Psycho

Mary Harron's American Psycho (2000) is based on Bret Easton Ellis' extremely controversial novel which mocks the shallow lifestyle (most importantly, obsessions) of modern and "trendy" people. Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) is a Vice President in a company called Pierce & Pierce. He is the epitome of "a rich modern man": he wears expensive clothes, exercises a lot and eats in fancy restaurants. Under this shallow image, there is a dreamlike darkness hiding - waiting to burst out violently.

The entire film is devoted to its message; the film's content is perfect as a dark satire. The film likes to make us suspect if the murders and misogyny really happen or not. They are executed in a ridiculously funny way to point out how outrageous the idea on its own is. It doesnt matter whether they really happen or not because those murders are there to point out how shallow and ridiculous it is to be a rich materialist like Bateman and his "friends". Before I forget it, I have to mention the mad monologues about music. They are genuinely funny and used in a yet another way to poke fun at the characters.

The film's form is quite basic, there is nothing special about it. I guess it is a way to exaggerate the absurdity of the content. It keeps our attention on the content so that we can think about it without a distraction. The hilarious opening credits sequence sets the mood for the rest of the film by its playful use of blood in the rhythm of the music.

In overall, American Psycho is a great satire at its core with a form that works satisfyingly enough.

Score: 8 out of 10

Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on Heaven's Door

Cowboy Bebop: Knockin' on Heaven's Door (2001) is a movie that was made after the original slice-of-life anime TV show that was like a western set in space: Cowboy Bebop. Chronologically the movie takes place between the 22nd and 23rd episode of the show. Like the original show, the movie was directed by Shinichiro Watanabe and the music was composed by brilliant Yoko Kanno. The film naturally has similar art design to the show, and the quality is the same as well - it's freakin' brilliant. The quality of animation is even more brilliant than in the original show, which says a lot. The music plays a huge part in the film, and Kanno succeeds yet again: the film is full of memorable songs. The film features one of the most epic chase scenes I've ever seen, and the background music is simply perfect for it. The story of the film is like an extended episode of the show. That fits to the original show's slice-of-life attitude and fans are satisfied with it.

Score: 8 out of 10

Thirst

I've been eagerly waiting for a chance to see Chan-wook Park's (who happens to be one of my favourite directors ever) latest film, Thirst (2009). In my opinion, the films of his "Vengeance trilogy" are among the greatest cinematic masterpieces. As a trilogy, I would even consider over any other trilogy. I hold him as one of the few true masters of black comedy, and he even seamlessly merges it with a dramatic aspect in his films. So when I heard he was working on a story that involves a priest (played by Kang-ho Song!) turning into a vampire, I knew it was going to be an awesome film. It had all the ingredients to be an extremely "delicious" story for Park, and he made it even funnier and more complex than I could ever expect. After being transformed into a vampire, the priest tries to help a woman (Kim Ok-vin) he falls in love with.

Thirst's black humor is by no means a disappointment when compared to Park's other films. It is not as wild as in I'm a Cyborg But That's OK (2006), but it isnt subtle by any standards. There is hardly a scene without a reason to laugh out loud. Even the "creepy" and "shocking" moments are handled in a satirical (or even farcical) way. Yes, the film has a lot sex, violence and blood (LOTS of it) - and all of these are handled in a funny way despite being a bit exploitative. Sucking blood is awfully (or shall I say, "deliciously") loud, which provoked me to laugh hard. Park's genuinely funny and refreshing take on vampires is something the "Twilight generation" desparately should see.

Even though the film is full of hilarious dark humor, Park manages to dive deep into a surprisingly wide selection of themes: guilt and immortality as the most important (and obvious) ones. There is also a lovely amount of metaphors in Thirst, more than what I'm used to with Park's films - and that's a good sign. This huge amount of content makes the storytelling a little clunky at times. The pacing might seem a little uneven sometimes, and that is what a lot of critics have used as an argument against Thirst. I was able to get through most of it although there was especially one plot point that felt very uneven and rushed, but luckily it didnt distract me for longer than 5-10 minutes. The narrative will certainly cause problems for a lot of viewers, and that is why I can't honestly call Thirst perfect. Some critics say Thirst "drags on" or "overstays its initial welcome", but I can only shrug at those statements. Thirst is a very tightly packed film which couldnt be any shorter and all of its wild content is essential to maintain the film's admirable complexity.

Park's use of camera movement is unbelieveable in Thirst. The camera moves a lot, and in fascinating patterns which really pack a strong punch. His cinematography is fantastic in other aspects too. The compositions, lighting and colors are simply breathtaking and they are really used as well as they can to set the mood. Similarly to Park's Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (2001), there isn't a lot of music in Thirst. Although there are a few short bits here and there, it is almost completely nonexistent. Even the short bits are a bit subtle and silent so that even those moments are not dominated by music.

As expected, Kang-ho Song's performance is brilliant in Thirst. The priest would have been a juicy role for anyone, but Song is simply perfect for it. But surprisingly the real scene stealer is Kim Ok-vin whose pitch-perfect performance is haunting, cunning and extraordinary. She delivers the various aspects of her character (who gets an incredible amount of character development during the film) in a fascinating way. Her demonic facial expressions are simply unforgettable. As usually with Park's films, his regulars appear in small roles yet again.

In overall, Thirst is a brilliant film which is a bit difficult to watch on the first time due to the clunky storytelling, but that is only a minor flaw for me because it is - in a way - justified for the sake of maintaining the complexity.

Score: 9 out of 10

The Iñárritu trilogy: "Amores perros", "21 Grams" & "Babel"

(the snapshots are only of Amores perros and Babel, I watched 21 Grams on TV)

Alejandro Gonzalez Iñárritu's films of his unofficial trilogy are among the favourites of most critics around the world. The trilogy is often called the "Death trilogy", but I find that nickname confusing because death is only a major theme/factor in 21 Grams. For the other two films death is as essential as, say, dwarves are for Lord of the Rings films. By this logic, we should call the Lord of the Rings "the Dwarves trilogy". That sounds perfectly reasonable ... right?

Here are the plot introductions as briefly as I can put them. Amores perros focuses on several storylines which in turn concentrate on one relationship. There is dangerious rivalry between siblings over a girl, a divorced man who takes care of a famous and beautiful woman (and her dog) and lastly, there is a story of an old man trying to re-establish his relationship with his daughter. 21 Grams tells the story of a grieving mother, a terminally ill man and a born-again ex-con who are brought together by a terrible accident. Babel's multiple storylines are kicked off when a boy accidentally shoots an American tourist. All of these storylines have some sort of a connection to this event, but they are mainly separated examinations of how communication fails between people.

First of all, each title of this trilogy has a more-or-less complex meaning to it. Amores perros can be translated (and interpret) in at least 10 different ways. Roughly examined, it includes the most essential story elements of each storyline: love and dogs. These words have more meanings in Spanish, and so the title can be translated figuratively as "that which is good and desirable in life and that which is miserable." Also, perros can be interpret to mean an unworthy person, a hired killer, and an unfaithful husband/boyfriend, all of which appear as characters in the film.

The meaning of 21 Grams is revealed in the film's pretentious ending monologue: it is believed that everyone loses exactly 21 grams at the moment of their death. The monologue asks questions like "is that how much life weighs?", which is ridiculous. It is a yet another offender (more on that later) in the film. So the title has a thematic significance which is OK.

Babel, on the other hand, is a biblical reference. Because the film focuses on our difficulties to communicate, it is named after the Tower of Babel. The film doesnt handle this matter only the level of "I cant speak this or that language", although it is one of the main points of the film. The most literal part, of course, is that in the Japanese storyline the main character is a deaf-mute, but is fascinatingly explored nevertheless. It is also explored on a completely emotional level.

It seems that Iñárritu's trademark is to play with the chronology more or less. Amores perros jumps back and forth in the chronology quite a lot, and thankfully it isnt used too excessively because it fits to the atmosphere completely. The film's content is quite chaotic in other aspects too, so I think it is spot-on. 21 Grams, on the other hand, plays it with even more, to the point of complete confusion during the first 30 minutes. What is even worse that the unstable and shattered structure serves no purpose at all. It is only extremely disorienting, childish and pretentious. I guess it is intended to be a puzzle, but if it is so, then what is the use if you can figure out the puzzle before you've watched a complete third of the film? And it significantly weakens the film's dramatic impact. Basically, Babel does use this a lot, but you wont notice because the storylines are separate enough so that it doesnt become confusing. Inside these storylines, there is not a single jump in chronology.

I once read a review which said that in Amores perros Iñárritu shows a "deep understanding of people", or something along the lines of that. So I guess when you show people as complete bitches and bastards you are told you understand the humans completely. In Amores perros everyone are either obvious bastards or hide their bitchiness under a shallow expression of happiness and kindness. In the long run, that becomes very irritating and one-sided - and forced in a way too. Yet it fits in a way to Amores perros. 21 Grams suffers of the same problem even to a more irritating degree: everyone blames others for their problems, show no real care to others and become completely shitholes when the critical moments comes - or when Iñárritu needs it. Babel is a pleasant surprise in this way: there are actually some people who are genuinely caring although it also shows a few characters who are extreme culminations of selfish bastards.

Amores perros takes interesting perspectives on love in the different stories. It never feels monotonous because the different storylines are engaging enough on the points they are supposed to deliver.

21 Grams is an example how you should NOT handle melodrama and tragedy. The performances (and the screenplay, too) is so ridiculously melodramatic that I simply lost my connection to the characters because they were constantly under extreme emotions, even to the point of no variety. 21 Grams also features one of the dumbest portrayals of a blind Christian. And not only was that, but the characters were so one-sided and forced that you couldnt really examine them without feeling disappointed. In the end, it is a take on revenge, loss and guilt handled decently at best.

Even though Babel has a fascinating theme and a reasonable structure, the film's content is lacking. The quality of the storylines range from awful to brilliant. The Japanese storyline is so fascinating and brilliantly executed that it could be made into its own stand-alone film. It featured the characters I would have loved to see more of because it seemed like a story that could have gone even further with the themes although it is great as it is already. At first the Japanese section seemed a little irrelevant to the rest of the film, but thematically it the most important part. Then there is, for example, the Mexican storyline that is doomed from the get-go because it only works as an idiot plot to show "illegal immigration is bad" and other rather contrived and dumb messages which are handled in a childish way. Luckily there is a clear thematic significance in each story and they are rather coherent when put together.

You can easily recognise Iñárritu's form because it mostly uses an energetic way to shoot and cut. Amores perros is a good result of this trademark. It never goes over the boundaries of what works, and it fits to the wild content of the film. It features great examples of crosscutting, those moments were certainly fascinating. The Tarantinoesque use of music was also somewhat fitting although a little bit overwrought sometimes. Then you can find the worst example of this energetic form in 21 Grams. Everything is shaky and nauseating, to the point of making everything seem rough, cruel, sad and melodramatic. The form is also very monotonous, and it is an example of how a director can take the exact wrong way to execute a story. Even the use of sound becomes so awfully banal. With Babel Iñárritu proves he has the form under control. He pauses to catch his breath once in a while, and those moments are rewarding. It also emphasizes the moments when the film rushes onwards like an angry bull. Iñárritu's form becomes perfect in one great scene: the club scene in the Japan story arc.

Anyone interested in cinema wouldnt do worse than watch Iñárritu's trilogy, but now you have been warned about 21 Grams. The best thing about this trilogy is that it is barely a trilogy, there is no relevant connection between these films. I could watch Babel again and again, even if only to watch the Japanese storyline and Rinko Kikuchi's MAGNIFICENT performance that dominates the whole film.

Scores:

Amores perros (2000) 8 out of 10
21 Grams (2003) 3 out of 10
Babel (2006) 7 out of 10

The Sea Inside

Alejandro Amenábar's The Sea Inside (2004) is based on the true story of a paralyzed man (Javier Bardem) who fought 28 years for the right to end his own life. Amenábar tackles yet another iffy subject with sentimentality. Luckily Amenábar sentimentality is excellent so that he never does it over-the-top, but handles it carefully. The film's characters are thoroughly explored and examined, which makes it a deep insight on how this man lived and how that affected everyone around him. The film's ethical content is carefully touched upon and it is handled in a great way - to say the least. The dialogue appears as pretentious which it could easily be, and that is due to the good writing and Bardem's magnificent performance. His subdued performance is heartbreakingly spot-on. He really gets to flex his acting muscles here. The form is unsurprisingly as usual for Amenábar. He sticks to certain patterns that are both good and bad. He never takes risks, and it leaves the film a little cold in comparison to its brilliant content.

Score: 7 out of 10

The Second List of Scores

The List (28 films in total)

All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) 10/10
Last Life in the Universe (2003) 10/10
Goodbye, Dragon Inn (2003) 10/10
In the Mood for Love (2000) 10/10
The Wayward Cloud (2005) 10/10
Visitor Q (2001) 9/10
3-Iron (2004) 9/10
Children of Men (2006) 9/10
Ichi the Killer (2001) 8/10
2046 (2004) 8/10
Downfall (2004) 8/10
Monrak Transistor (2001) 8/10
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence (2004) 8/10
Hero (2002) 8/10
Antichrist (2009) 8/10
Half Nelson (2006) 8/10
The Man Without a Past (2002) 8/10
Little Miss Sunshine (2006) 7/10
Cutie Honey (2004) 7/10
My Winnipeg (2007) 6/10
American Beauty (2000) 6/10
The New World (2005) 6/10
House of Flying Daggers (2004) 6/10
Little Children (2006) 6/10
Tales from Earthsea (2006) 5/10
Dogville (2003) 4/10
Requiem for a Dream (2000) 4/10
A Conversation with God (2001) 2/10

American Beauty

Sam Mendes' American Beauty (2000) doesnt seem to know what it is supposed to be. The first third is strictly sit-com, the second a good satire and the final third takes a turn for serious and grim drama. It is an attempt to poke fun at dysfunctional family drama and yet be a serious take on it at the same time. The film is even further broken apart by a few pretentious monologues on the "beauty of life" - or something like that. Although I have to somewhat laud it for making the characters rich enough and constructing a rather good storyline, the film stumbles a lot more than is forgivable. The form is sufficient, but far from spectacular. Especially the music is nicely quiet, but unimpressive and forgettable. The acting in American Beauty is good at best. Annette Bening is a bit too hyperactive and over-the-top; Kevin Spacey's bland face conveys nothing at all although he is a lot better than usually; Wes Bentley is stiff as he should be; Thora Birch is forgettable; Mena Suvari makes a fine yet unsurprising performance.

Score: 6 out of 10

My Winnipeg

Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg (2007) is clearly one of the weirdest and most experimental films I have ever seen. It is something I would call a "dry hallucination": its absurd surreality is executed in an extremely dry and awkwardly self-aware way. Even though the form is very experimental, Guy Maddin seems to control it quite well although there are a few maddening inconsistencies in it, which breaks the flow. The form obscurely uses a lot of elements from silent films and I wont go into details on that, but it's certainly interesting. Combine that with the heavy-handed narration and you have a form that could be seen as awfully pretentious - and the film barely tiptoes the line between being good and pretentious. The content is supposed to Maddin's portrayal of Winnipeg, but it is filled with absurd and fictive "facts" which are explored quite aimlessly. Not that these incorrect facts are a flaw because Maddin certainly wanted to be dryly funny with this film, but I hardly had a good time with the film because I felt the content was way too over-the-top and incomprehensible.

Score: 6 out of 10

Cutie Honey

Hideaki Anno's Cutie Honey (2004) is a live-action adaptation of a popular anime series. Anno's extremely campy take on the silly show goes even beyond the boundaries of a parody. It is outright silly, as it should be, and provides more laugh-out-loud moments than you could probably even imagine. Instead of a proper plot introduction (which would only be in vain), I'll just introduce you to the main characters. Cutie Honey is a superhero (well, sort of) who has a double identity as a lousy office worker. She seems to live alone in a huge mansion - and dont ask me why, but she spends her time there only in her underwear. Detective Natsuko is an uptight and lonely detective who runs into Cutie Honey on many occassions. The Panther Claw is a group of four freakin' weirdos who fight against Cutie Honey. Then there's also a mysterious journalist who has his own agenda.

It is easy to point out that Cutie Honey is a parody with limitless camp value, but the film wanders into a different direction in the end. I dont know if this is only because the viewer gets so used to the film's quirky mood or it might actually be an intended choice by Anno. Who knows, he might have actually made Cutie Honey seriously - simply to make his fan flip out yet again.

The film stinks of camp value. As a campy parody/tribute, the form is fine as it is: an absurd adaptation of anime editing and character design into a live-action film. The music flows from a silly theme tune to "serious and dramatic" string-dominated compositions that can either be interpret as an attempt to be serious or as a different way to get more laughs out of the audience. The problem is that I felt so nonplussed by the end of the film that I dont have my own opinion which one it is in the end. Even though it's my second time watching the film, this unevenness bugs me still.

In overall, it's a nice film for anyone who wants to have a good laugh - whether you want to direct your laughs at anime or not. 100% camp entertainment guaranteed. The film gets a few extra points for the sheer amount of honest camp value that even made me happy.

Score: 7 out of 10

3-Iron

Kim Ki-Duk's 3-Iron (2004) is a step away from his prior films. This step already began with his brilliant Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter ... and Spring (2003), and the step is completely realised in 3-Iron. While his older films were filled with cruel violence and other controversial topics, 3-Iron is almost the opposite. While it has a few outbursts of violence, it is a lot sweeter film because these outbursts are well handled and used for a better purpose. At its core, 3-Iron is the story of a man (Hyun-kyoon Lee) who goes around sticking ads to doors. This is only a way to identify the houses the residents of which are elsewhere so that he can spend a night there. He doesnt steal anything and only uses the houses fairly - he even fixes things, washes clothes of the residents and so on: he's not a bad person by any means. The film's real tension comes up when a woman (Seung-yeon Lee) befriends him and accompanies him during these "intrusions".

You can see the film as a piece of social criticism. Kim asks unnerving questions in the film. Is our "property" as important as it seems today? What do we consider our property? There are different reactions to the intrusions in the film - that is if it is discovered that someone really has been or is in the house. The man faces violence on a few occasions and it is luckily not used simple-mindedly. As the two main characters intrude different apartments, they learn a lot about the lives of the residents. They do not directly affect their lives, but there are consequences, of course. There is a husband who treates her wife like an inanimate object that does everything he wants. Is she really his property like he thinks? The conclusion for the conflict that arouses from this problem is fascinating.

As you might expect, these intrusions are not completely without risk in the long run. Where other storytellers and filmmakers would have ended their work, Kim pushes forward to a great climax. The film takes a magical turn that might put some people off because it seems a little weird at first. Yet, it is the only logical way to continue the story, and thus handle the themes in a lot better way.

Kim shows his ability to be a great storyteller with this film, but how is his form? He proves that he is not a fool with that either. His causious use of camera is a fine way to capture the story. The film proceeds at a calm pace yet it never appears to be slow. His editing is fine, but not great. His compositions are interesting to look at  and they accompany the camera movement well. Kim did the right choice by sticking to only one song for the whole film. It is used during various moments in the film, the characters actually listen to it most of the time. It captures the sweet feeling of yearning and love as the relationship between the characters develops.

The main characters never speak - the woman has only one line that has a great impact on the viewer. The woman also screams once in place of dialogue and that scream is like a caged animal's call for help, which totally fits the scene. Hyun-kyoon Lee and Seung-yeon Lee are both fantastic actors. They brilliantly capture the inner sides of the characters through body language and facial expressions. I believe it is impossible for the viewer not to care for the characters due to the magnificent performances.

In overall, 3-Iron is an even and gorgeous film that can easily win anyone's heart. It doesnt have major flaws, but it is by no means a perfect film. It could be further improved, but works well enough as it is.

Score: 9 out of 10

The Man Without a Past

Aki Kaurismäki is probably the most famous (and arguably the best) Finnish director. The Man Without a Past (2002) is probably his most popular film, partly due to the Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Language Film. A Finnish man (Markku Peltola) is violently mugged and when he's taken to the hospital, he's considered dead. Yet he wakes up and escapes the hospital with no idea who he is. He then proceeds to live with the poor people in Helsinki. The story certainly has the elements of strict social criticism. It goes to absurd extremes of poverty in Finland: people live in containers (which hilariously enough have their own landlord). The film also seems to take aim at bureoucracy, without a proper ID you can't get anything. Yet the film never becomes too preaching because it doesnt try to be too judgmental. Everything is handled with the deadpan humor - Kaurismäki is the master of that. He is known for his peculiar way to direct actors: acting is completely "wooden" and stiff. I guess he tries to reflect Finnish behaviour by that, although it is - of course - exaggerated. His camera rarely moves although his form seems to be quite clean and precise otherwise - especially the lighting is wonderful. That way the wooden acting becomes more distracting and obvious; maybe that's the point, but I find it a little weird to only put acting on a leash instead of the whole form. In overall, it is a fine film, but not necessarily brilliant in any aspect.

Score: 8 out of 10

Requiem for a Dream

Darren Aronofsky's Requiem for a Dream (2000) is a cautionary tale of addiction. There are drug addictors (Jared Leto, Marlon Wayans), a drug addict who is/becomes a whore (Jennifer Connelly) and an old, television-addicted and overweight lady (Ellen Burstyn) who begins to take drugs, as well. It is so ridiculously preaching and heavy-handed that it makes me laugh instead of making me think. The weak characters are completely controlled by the will to be as cruel as possible towards addicts. The stiff dialogue is laughable. At least it is damn obsessed with its own message so that it doesnt really stray away from it at any point.

The form might be tight, but very distracting and unfitting. There is sped up and slowed down footage, strap-on cameras and "hip hop" editing. These are mostly used in a wrong way if you ask me. The formal choices deliver either the opposite effect, are there to look "cool" or "shocking" or at worst feel completely random. Especially the "hip hop" editing seems to glorify the act of getting high, and that is exactly the opposite of what the film wants to say. The compositions are quite nice sometimes, but the dramatic strings are somewhat silly sometimes. Unfortunatnely this movie made Lux Aeterna popular (and THAT Lord of the Rings trailer even moreso) that its effect has completely worn out - and in turn evokes more disgust than drama. The performances are mostly OK, with the exceptions of Jared Leto and Ellen Burstyn. The former is shitty and the latter is awesome.

Score: 4 out of 10

All About Lily Chou-Chou

Shunji Iwai's All About Lily Chou-Chou (2001) took me by surprised and twisted my heart and brain. 18 hours has passed since I watched the film, but it still has a strong impact on me: I'm bewildered, crazy and touched. To reflect my reaction to the film, my review will be executed in a peculiar way: I take quotes from other reviews and comment on them.

”If your taste runs to "difficult" films you absolutely can't miss it.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

The difference in reactions to All About Lily Chou-Chou can be mostly reduced to "Your mileage may vary." The film is certainly not easy to get into because it has such a peculiar narrative and it seems there is nothing that essentially ties the film into one solid entirety. I, on the other hand, fell in love with it on this aspect.

”"All About Lily Chou-Chou" is arguably too ambitious, too all-encompassing and too concerned with flouting narrative convention for its own good. Then again, some of the same criticisms could apply to François Truffaut's "The 400 Blows," a movie that bears more than a passing similarity to this one.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

The problem I had at first was that as much as I could praise the film, I could criticize it for the very same things. Once my mind had settled down a bit (it hasnt settled completely yet), I felt my criticism felt weaker and weaker so I began to admire the film more gradually. Partly because it had such a strong effect on me, only comparable to my reaction to films like Yi Yi and End of Evangelion. O'Hehir makes a reasonable comparison to Truffaut's The 400 Blows because All About Lily Chou-Chou seems to be criticized for the same reasons The 400 Blows is praised.

”"All About Lily Chou-Chou" is mainly the story of Yuichi (Hayato Ichihara), a moody, near-silent teenage boy who's obsessed with a pop singer named, yep, Lily Chou-Chou. Beyond that, though, things get murky.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

This is as good as it gets when you attempt to make a plot introduction for the film. The film's content becomes so wide that it is hard to explain it all without writing walls of text and spoiling the film too much.

”Iwai's portrait of Japanese high-school life is dense with compelling detail. In between his sessions in an online chat-room devoted to Lily -- rendered as a series of explosive intertitles that interrupt and sometimes overlay the action -- Yuichi must navigate a landscape of warring bullies and gangs, sadistic and seductive packs of girls and various grades of clueless, harried adults.” - Andrew O'Hehir - Salon.com

The film dives deep into the lives of high-school students. One of the things that resonated within me was the portrayal of Internet discussion and disillusioned fanbase. The anonymity is conforming for the teens because it allows them to get away from the social pressure caused by the school, family and friends. The things these crazy fans write during the film are not far from what is written on most of the forums I've been to. Fans go to absurd levels in praising what they love, by bringing up weird "facts", writing colorful yet pretentious walls of text and defending the honor of their precious idol or masterpiece. I have been (and still am to a certain degree) guilty of this act because it becomes quite natural once you spend enough time on the Internet. The problems of the teenagers in the film explode in the form of criminal and even sexually grim activities. The cluelessness (is that even a word?) of the adults reflects, in my humble opinion, the way the teenagers mostly see adults as, especially parents and teachers. They can be kind or dominating, but "none of them understands" how the children feel. Through their eyes, there is a gaping hole between their world and the parents' world.

”If Yuichi is pretty much the classic wounded adolescent of world cinema, transposed to the age of chat rooms and digital video, that doesn't stop us from pining for a time when he will be less awkward and his life a little easier.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

At first I despised Yuichi because I wanted to get him over his own problems and finally do SOMETHING. As the film went further I realised I was only frustrated because he faces a lot of problems I have, and I realised how honestly Iwai portrays this aspect. It doesnt point fingers at anyone yet it is a true and deep look at these psychological problems. In a way, Yuichi reminds me of Hideaki Anno's Neon Genesis Evangelion's Shinji because my initial (and later) reaction was similar to him. That might have been an unintentional parallel on Iwai's part, but he has admitted that Anno's Love & Pop influenced him a lot. You can certainly spot that all the way from the subject (and how it is handled) to the peculiar form.

”If the narrative progress of Iwai's film is sometimes baffling, what keeps you watching are his lustrous images and the complexity of his portrayal of middle-class Japan in decline.” - Andrew O'Hehir - Salon.com

The narrative certainly CAN be baffling, but I'm sure no one will stop watching the film. Luckily there are other qualities that can be more easily called redeeming than the narrative. More about the form later.

”Scenes don't always occur in chronological order, and some remain entirely mysterious.” - Andrew O'Hehir - Salon.com

You might be skeptical if this sort of ambiguity fits to the subject, but it strengthens the film. The film's narrative doesnt try to force every detail down the viewers' throats, but certainly leaves enough clues for clear interpretation. The amount of details may confuse you on the initial viewing and you might need to rewatch the film later.

”While this has the making of melodrama, the filmmaker cuts against this natural grain, producing a work that's more interested in asking questions than in answering them.” - David Ehrenstein, New Times

This isnt completely true, but can be attributed to the amgiguosity.

”I suppose "All About Lily Chou-Chou" is at its heart making the oldest possible complaint about modern culture: that as it purports to bring people together it actually keeps them separate.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

The film might not make an impressive statement of this complaint in general, but it is adequate enough when you take the subject into consideration.

”Iwai isn't interested in Lily herself, who never appears in the film (and may not even be real); Lily and her pseudo-mystical domain, "the Ether," seem to symbolize a lost tranquility that may be the past or the future but definitely isn't the here and now.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

This is something the viewer should have in mind before watching the film. The title is, in a way, misleading because it isnt really about Lily Chou-Chou itself. Every bit of information about her comes through her fans and we can never be sure how correct this information is. It is much more reasonable and comfortable to see her as a metaphor.

Without a direct quote, I would like to mention a brilliant scene. Yuichi walks a girl home, but the tension in the girl and in the relationship explodes completely while they are walking. What happens during the explosion is stunning and it feels so right. The end of the scene is an example of the awkward lack of connection between the characters even though both of them desparately want it. It is a bittersweet yet beautiful moment.

”A film that perfectly distills the relationship between pop music and teens searching for identity.” - Pam Grady, Reel.com

Even though it would be too simple to say that the film is about teens searching for identity, but the important of culture, especially pop music, is handled better than I recall in any other film I've seen. There is this strong need to escape the reality by any means and a lot of adolescents rely on music. Salyu's wonderful music is used as the music of the mysterious Lily Chou-Chou. These songs set the mood perfectly and reflect the teenage angst in a bittersweet way.

”Much of All About Lily Chou-Chou is mesmerizing: some of its plaintiveness could make you weep.” - Elvis Mitchell, New York Times

While the film isnt strictly melancholic, it certainly affects you in that way as well. There was one certain moment that made me weep a little because it was such a crushing moment for one of the characters. Yet again, I would like to compare the film to Yi Yi to which I had similar reactions.

”This movie is maddening. It conveys a simple message in a visual style that is willfully overwrought.” - Roger Ebert, Chicago Sun-Times

This Ebert quote is simply something I have to disagree with. "A simple message"? Huh? Visual style that is willfull overwrought? Your mileage may vary.

”Writer-director Shunji Iwai is no kid (he's 39), but his movie has a youthful restlessness, an almost compulsive daring.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

Iwai's form is intriguing and uneasy - as it should be for this sort of content. The next quote puts it better than I ever could:

”Once you get into its rhythm ... the movie becomes a heady experience.” - Jonathan Curiel, San Fransisco Chronicle

Not only the narrative might be disorienting, but the editing is certainly peculiar. Anno's influence can be seen here, but Iwai doesnt simply do what Anno would, but takes the whole form even beyond that. It is a delicious experience.

”Iwai is almost certainly going digital by choice; he begins and ends the film with images of Yuichi against a field of sizzling-green grass, an electric hue perhaps only attainable in this format.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

Now that I have seen the film, I claim it wouldnt be the same if it was shot on film. The digital footage is charming and extremely beautiful, as describe in the following quote:

”Perhaps no greater example yet exists of the beauty achievable when one is a master of the digital aesthetic.” - Jeremy Heilman, MovieMartyrs.com

All About Lily Chou-Chou is the best example of how you can achieve a lot by digital cameras, and also why they should be used more frequently.

”Then there's a long sideways journey in the middle, when the film temporarily becomes a homemade video of an Okinawa vacation that ends with a near-drowning while the camera sloshes around haphazardly in the surf.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

I understand why Iwai executed this portion of the film in the way he did, but it wasnt easy to accept at first. There are a few points during this section that made me a little skeptical. I would consider this a minor flaw at worst.

”Ichihara is a handsome, slight kid who can simultaneously convey curiosity and sullenness.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

Ichihara (Yuichi's, the main characters', actor) performed extremely well. I even didnt think of the performances before reading about the film elsewhere. The whole cast deserves appreciation, especially Ichihara and Ayumi Ito. Their performances were hard-hitting.

I'm finally coming to a conclusion, and at first I'll use a bunch of quotes:

”I loved "All About Lily Chou-Chou" despite its problems, or at least I greatly admired its crystalline, high-definition video look, its explosive feel, its wealth of ideas, its willingness to go anywhere and do anything.” - Andrew O'Hehir, Salon.com

”Confusion is one of my least favourite emotions, especially when I have to put up with 146 minutes of it.” - Ian Waldron-Mantgani, UK Critic

”It's a uniquely lonely film, and one of the year's most memorable.” - Michael Atkinson, Village Voice

”I'm not sure All About Lily Chou-Chou made sense in my head, but it made sense in my heart.” - Chris Hewitt, St. Paul Pioneer Press

Andrew O'Hehir's covers most of the reason why I'm willing to forget any possible flaws of the film, and add to that the fact how it hit home for me: I identify a lot of the characters' problems in myself although I have no experience of youth criminals or teenage prostitution. Ian Waldron-Mantgani's bewildering statement is funny in an unintentional way. The film seems to have breached his security and shaken him up, and he feels offended by that. I usually feel vice versa. What I love about Michael Atkinson's quote is his description of the film: "uniquely lonely". Chris Hewitt's words, on the other hand, are the ones I had in my mind just after I had seen the film. Back then I wasnt sure if I had seen one of the best films ever, or only a decent film.

As the last quote, I would like to use something Andrew O'Hehir wrote:

”Somehow it works.”

Even though he uses it only about the digital aesthetic, I erupted in laughter after reading that line. It felt so spot-on about my thoughts on the film in general.

Score: (yet another) 10 out of 10

The Wayward Cloud

Tsai Ming-liang's The Wayward Cloud (2005) is certainly a unique film: it is a Taiwanese arthouse porn musical. Sadly I havent yet watched Tsai's What Time Is It There? (2001) and The Skywalk Is Gone (2002). The Wayward Cloud continues the stories of the characters seen in those films. In any case, the film doesnt rely heavily on those characters because I felt like there was nothing missing in the story.

The Wayward Cloud examines the relationship between an amateur porn star and a lonely woman. They know each other from the past and both of them are desparately seeking a connection. Will they succeed? They go about their daily lives on a calm pace which is sometimes interruped by odd musical numbers. These musical bits are charmingly off-beat when compared to the rest of the film. It is like the film's story flows back and forth between two completely different layers. There is this sort of "dualism" in the "porn" scenes too. Sometimes you can see the people behind camera in rather amusing situations, and then there are scenes where they are completely non-existent. Tsai brilliantly switches between these two "styles" to emphasize certain aspects of the content. For example, the first porn scene catches the viewer completely off-guard and it is done "professionally" with no visible cameramen, complete with costumes for both characters. The most shocking part is what actually happens during the scene - I'll leave that for you to find out.

Despite the film's cold and alienating attitude most of the time, there are truly hilarious moments. Tsai is able to include his "trademark humor" into the serious content seamlessly. For example, there is a lovely scene which uses only one shot: the shot is divided by a wall in the middle of it and we can see one main character on each side. The man tries to be nice to the woman and accepts the drink she offers to him. While she goes behind the wall, he disposes of the drink without drinking it - because it's god awful. When she comes back, he kindly gives the glass back to him, which she interprets as him wanting more. His facial expression after she fills the glass again is priceless. The same sort of composition is used later in the film for a completely another purpose, but it is certainly meant to be parallel to this scene.

The film's Taipei is under a drought which has made watermelons extremely common, to the point of them becoming a fetish. All of this can be seen as a metaphor for the "dryness" in the relationships of the characters, the lack of connection. The Wayward Cloud's watermelons are infamous among cinephiles.

Apart from the musical scenes, Tsai's form doesnt hold any exceptions in comparison to his other films. He likes to linger on carefully framed and beautiful shots which are often used for a certain purpose. Even his musical numbers follow his tradition of only using old Mandarin pop songs which surprisingly fit really well with the modern setting. 

I seriously cant find any mentionable flaws from the film, and it is great as it is. It is an intriguing example of how far cinematic language can go.

Score: 10 out of 10

Last Life in the Universe

Pen-Ek Ratanaruang's Last Life in the Universe (2003) is the complete opposite of his earlier film, Monrak Transistor (2001): it is melancholic, calm and it is more concerned about its concepts than a tight and complicated plot. The film is an accurate character study of the two main characters. One is a completely introverted Japanese man (Tadanobu Asano) who attempts suicide on various occasions, but he claims he isnt doing it out of hopelessness. Due to an unfortunate accident, he meets an extroverted Thai girl (Sinitta Boonyasak).

The character studies are simply fascinating in Last Life in the Universe. Both of the main characters are given equal focus and it really gives a wide perspective for the film. We enter their dreams and thoughts in an intriguing way. At its core, the film is about life, death, alienation and reconciliation. Death is always present in the film. The eruptions of violence are somehow so melancholic and even bittersweet. It is interesting even on the surface as it works as a romantic comedy, but I hardly even thought of it as one before writing this review.

Christopher Doyle worked as the Director of Photography for this film, and that can easily be noticed in the cinematography. Ratanaruang's form was already excellent in Monrak Transistor without Doyle, but now it reaches new, unbelieveable levels of quality. The compositions and camera movement are so essential that many reviewers easily call it the third main character of the film.

The film relies heavily on the two main actors who are astonishing. Tadanobu Asano's restrained performance as the introvert is so pitch-perfect that I would laud it as one of the best performances of the whole decade. It is the complete opposite of his performance in Ichi the Killer, and it is refreshing to see him in a role like this. Sinitta Boonyasak's performance is not to be forgotten: it is as glorious as Asano's. Their body language is essential for the interpretation of the film and they succeed in so many ways that it is hard to describe it sufficiently. 

The same thing goes for the whole film: I believe my review can hardly describe, evaluate and show respect to the film as well as possible. It is so carefully nuanced and delicately executed. It left me with this strong feeling of weightlessness and emptiness - in a good way.

Score: 10 out of 10