The Killer

(image source)

I've never been a fan of action movies in particular. Recently it has become more and more rare for me to like one. When I decided to rewatch John Woo's The Killer (1989) I was unsure how I would react to it - even though I had seen it once about 2 years ago. At first I was ready to say that the film is quite good, but its climax showed how ridiculously masculine, dim-witted and ludicrous the entire film was.

The Killer uses a lot of clichéd action film tropes and uses them a lot better than most other films I have seen. However, the climax opened my eyes to the laughable concepts the film offers. Certainly it is the wet dream of an action fan, but its simple-minded take on honor and friendship is so frustrating. When you add a few moments of so-called tranquility, you pretty much have the complete image of the film in your head. I have to admit that I did admire some of the setpieces they came up with, but in the end they can not redeem the film.

But don't get me wrong: I can laud the film for its mostly fascinating form. Woo's moody cinematography and editing are quite spot-on although his use of slow motion is always extremely irritating. Slow motion can be found in almost every scene in the entire film and it becomes more of an eye sore whenever it is used. The music is not bad either although it is probably a bit too moody and over-the-top.

Score: 5 out of 10

Sansho the Bailiff

As much as I hate the nickname, Kenji Mizoguchi is considered one of "three masters of Japanese cinema" alongside Kurosawa and Ozu. I've read that his films are most diverse when compared to the other two and it becomes very apparent when I compare his Sansho the Bailiff (1954) to Ugetsu: while Ugetsu is extremely poetic and otherwordly, Sansho the Bailiff is rougher and more direct and gripping in its depiction of the world. The film concentrates on the tragedy of a family breaking apart: the wife and children of a former governor are captured by slave traders and we, the viewers, witness their struggle to reunite.

The most accomplished aspect of the film's content is certainly its narrative. It is incredibly dense - and it seems like there is no limit for the amount of plot development that takes place. The storytelling is not only dense, but also well structured: it's one of the best tragedies I've ever seen. There are a few moments of redemption here and there, but the slow descent into the tragic ending is as painful as it should be. At its core, the movie is about perseverance and integrity during hard times. Naturally, this includes Mizoguchi's observations on the position of women in Japan.

Mizoguchi's form works well as well - although I'm not sure if it is as great as in Ugetsu. His camerawork is very precise and striking, but there are moments when it is too simple when compared to the rest of the film. However, his cinematography and editing form unforgettable scenes in the film, like the moment the children are separated from the mother: it's a masterful scene even by Mizoguchi's own standards.

In the end, Sansho the Bailiff is a fascinating film that deserves its praise, but I do not appreciate it as much as his earlier film, Ugetsu.

Score: 9 out of 10

Scandal

Before Akira Kurosawa became famous outside Japan with his Rashômon (1950), he made Scandal (1950). It is his direct assault against Japanese media. A young painter (Toshiro Mifune) offers his help to a famous singer, but the eager paparazzi take a photo of the two and imply that they are secretly in love. The story is partly based on Akira Kurosawa's own experiences when it was implied by the press that he had an affair. However, the true main character of the film is the corrupt lawyer (Takashi Shimura) who decides to help the painter.

Scandal is heavy-handed and melodramatic even by Kurosawa's own standards. He points out a simple problem caused by Japan's rapid change during the 40's (and eventually in the 50's as well). Even though the film is over-sentimental Kurosawa manages to keep it together miraculously thanks to his strong characters and cast. Especially Takashi Shimura's towering performance dominates the entire film.

Although Kurosawa's form works well enough in the film, it seems he still hasn't completely refined it. There are a few truly brilliant moments - like the wonderful (if over-sentimental) bar scene. 

In overall, Scandal is an interesting film - especially for the fans of Kurosawa - despite being somewhat flawed and over-the-top.

Score: 7 out of 10

Kwaidan

Masaki Kobayashi's Kwaidan (1964) - or Kaidan, as it is spelled in modern Japanese - is based on a famous anthology of ghost stories written by Lafcadio Hearn. The title itself translates as "ghost story" into English. The only thing these four stories have in common is that they deal with ghosts in some way and all of them are genuinely scary.

The first story, Black Hair, is a fairly simple: man leaves his wife so that he can get a better position in the community only to regret his decision later. However, things are not as he had hoped anymore. The message is straightforward yet poignant. The use of sound is extremely otherwordly and brilliant in this segment. Sound effects are often muted or delayed - and that's what makes the story truly menacing. The sound effect of wood being torn apart is used in the musical score in a creepy way.

The second story, Woman of the Snow, also focuses on love, but it takes a totally different approach to the subject. What really sets this story apart is its haunting and bittersweet atmosphere, it is not as directly scary or creepy as the other stories. The way snow is portrayed (even though it was shot on interior sets) is unforgettable. I would even dare to say that this is the most iconic depiction of snow and coldness.

The third story, Hoichi the Earless, is the longest and most intriguing portion of the film. Essentially it is about a blind monk who is cheated by the spirits of the dead. The story takes its precious time to build up tension until it explodes into all directions in the end - before all of it is brought together in the end in an awesome way. This story is something that will never leave your mind at peace.

The final story, In a Cup of Tea, is the most mysterious and surprising segment. I won't go into too much detail because it is something you need to see yourself. The ending is even more ambiguos than the rest of the film put together. It is something you will not see coming, but it is the only logical way to end a film like this. All I can say is that it includes a story about a bodyguard who is haunted by a ghost.

The film's form is consistently brilliant and varies a bit in each story. The use of sound and music is crucial in each one: while the first one is most notable and obvious achievement in sound, the entire film is controlled by sound. The film was completely shot on interior sets and you won't even realise that until you read about it somewhere. All of the sets were hand painted and some of them are really expressionistic and atmospheric. The cinematography is beautiful as well - there is never a moment when Kobayashi's flawless camerawork fails. For example, his use of Dutch angles is perfected here.

Masaki Kobayashi's Kwaidan is a stunning cinematic achievement. I can not recall a film that would have such a brilliant combination of creative sets, stunning cinematography and innovative use of sound. The stories might be a bit simple, but they hold great wisdom that should not be forgotten.

Score: 10 out of 10

Dreams

Dreams (1990) was one of the last films Akira Kurosawa ever directed. It is a fragmented collection of dreams that aren't connected to each other in any way. They touch on many subjects and themes, but the final result is perplexing to say the least - because the film is hardly coherent at all. There's also a problem with the strong morals: they are handled in a ridiculously heavy-handed way. Although I have to admit that the dream involving Vincent Van Gogh was awesome.

While the content is challenging and confusing, the form is spot-on. Kurosawa never fails to create breathtaking imagery. The pacing is wonderfully dreamy and while that makes the film a bit harder to watch, it works well to enhance the unclear content. The musical score is delightful as well.

Dreams was certainly something new for Kurosawa, but this "experiment" doesn't work as well as it could have possibly worked.

Score: 5 out of 10

PS: I would be interested in reading a Jungian analysis of the dreams. Maybe that would make me understand the content better.

Love & Pop

Hideaki Anno is best known for his work as an anime director. Gunbuster, Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, Neon Genesis Evangelion and His and Her Circumstances are brilliant and popular TV shows. However, after finishing those TV shows he decided to direct a few live-action films with a tiny budget. His experimental form and interest in touchy subjects were taken even further in these small releases. Love & Pop (1998) was the first one of these live-action films. It is a story of four Japanese schoolgirls who engage in enjo kosai to earn money.

Anno observes the phenomenon in a negative but honest way. There are a few cases where nothing harmful happens and everyone involved gains profit. But in most cases there are problems. Thieves, rapists, perverts and other freaks abuse the the service. And what does it tell that the girls succumb to enjo kosai only to get money? The society has become awfully materialistic. Anno also addresses a few other social problems: the effects of competitive education, the social pressure on adolescents and what has become of (too) many adults in Japan. However, the truly relevant thematic aspect is more universal. The main character, Hiromi, begins to questions her own identity when she compares herself to her friends.

Anno's highly experimental form is initially baffling, but once you get used to it, it's intriguing and magnificent. The entire film was shot with miniature digital cameras so the film automatically has a distinctive look. His offbeat camera positions are even more extreme this time - sometimes the camera is even attached to different body aparts (the most absurd one is inside a girl's skirt). The pacing is marvellous because he can so effortlessly move between places and switch from ridiculously fast cuts to long takes. This time he even plays with the aspect ratios of different shots. The most notable example of this trick is pictured below. Anno's strong hand and leg motifs appear in Love & Pop as well. Not a single scene passes by without a shot of shoes or feet. The hand motif serves as a brilliantly creepy way to describe Hiromi's "downfall". Anno's usage of the fish eye lens is more than obvious in Love & Pop and it is only one of the dozens of devices he uses to create more anxiety.

In overall, Love & Pop is a challenging and rewarding film. I have to admit that I did not appreciate a lot until the third time I watched it. First of all, its content seemed lesser when put next to Anno's other films, but even that is not entirely true. Secondly, once you get over the confusion created by the form and controversial content, it is easier to find the film's true brilliance.

Score: 10 out of 10

Crazed Fruit

Kô Nakahira's Crazed Fruit (1956) is one of the most famous and important "Sun Tribe" films. The nickname, Sun Tribe, refers to the film's young characters who spend their days by sunbathing, swimming, drinking and having sex. Crazed Fruit concentrates on two brothers, Natsuhista and Haruji, who fall for the same woman. Gradually they discover that she is not what they believe her to be.

The story is baffling - in a bad way. A bunch of weak characters are caught in a wishy-washy tale of obsession and deception. The entire film is based on one conflict that is supposed to be resolved in a climax. However, the way the climax erupts is unexpected and ridiculous. To make things even worse, it seems we are supposed to care for the innocent brother (his innocence is emphasized throughout the film) yet I felt only indifference towards him. The film's storytelling is either heavy-handed or completely lost in its "stylish" form.

This film is a great example of style being more important than substance - at least that is the result. The first half of the film is spent with gloriously stylish cinematography and editing which certainly fits to the carefree lifestyle that is portrayed. The form becomes problematic when the story becomes more intense because it sticks to the same patterns. The shallow and joyful form takes out all the possible tension from the later half. Now that's problem because the film is built around the conflict and if it isn't tense at all, the film has failed at some point.

Ultimately, Crazed Fruit is a film with a decent first half and disastrous second half. I wouldn't advise against watching the film - especially if you're interested in Japanese cinema - but it certainly isn't a good film.

Score: 4 out of 10