Mystery Train

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Jim Jarmusch's Mystery Train (1989) consists of three storylines that have two things in common: all of the characters end up in the same cheap hotel and Elvis Presley is present in some form in each one. The first segment (Far From Yokohama) deals with two Japanese tourists who have come to Memphis to visit the home of Elvis Presley. The second one (A Ghost) is about a foreigner stuck in the city due to flight problems - and she eventually spends time with an incredibly talkative woman. The last segment (Lost in Space) focuses on a fascinating triangle dynamic between three guys who are in deep trouble.

Even though these segments are heavily interconnected their quality varies surprisingly lot. While the first segment offers a pitch-perfect piece of deadpan comedy the other two are only amusing at best. The Japanese couple of Far From Yokohama form such a great chemistry not only between the characters but also between the two performances that overshadows the rest of the film. Even though it is notably the "driest" part of the film in terms of direction the other two segments can not possibly rival it because Jarmusch's lack of exaggeration sometimes diminishes the impact of the comedy. Luckily none of the segments is bad, but there is a troubling inconsistency in quality that distracted me a little.

Jarmusch's form isn't exactly minimal because it uses a variety of techniques - especially in cinematography - but instead I would call it "calm". It lets the screenplay unfold at its own pace and the subtle humor is never pointed at. Most of the camera movement is subtle because it is done so slowly and smoothly that the viewer doesn't easily notice it - apart from a few scenes where the movement is obvious from the editing patterns. The soundtrack of the film is almost the complete opposition with its neverending charm and energy delivered by Presley, Orbison and other similar musicians. It's at least a fascinating and functional contrast so it doesn't hinder the film.

Mystery Train is a disappointing film in its own way: after a brilliant beginning the comedy falls a bit flat and even when Jarmusch gives the film more energy afterwards it never fully recovers. Nevertheless it is a rather funny and well executed film.

Score: 7 out of 10

Evangelion 2.0 You Can (Not) Advance

Evangelion 2.0 You Can (Not) Advance (2009) is the second part of a movie series that attemps to retell the story of Hideaki Anno's Neon Genesis Evangelion - a TV show that I utterly love and praise way more than anything else. Even though the first film was a rather uninventive remake of the first 6 episodes of the original show with brand new animation, the second film takes a significantly different direction to make the new films quite different from the original show.

Essentially Evangelion is about a group of teenagers saving the world in their giant robots from creatures called the "Angels" while mysterious old men smugly conspire for something much bigger. As interesting and mysterious as the plot sounds, it's only the framework for the grand psychological and philosophical issues which are also filtered through religious imagery.

Where this film seriously differs from the original show is its inclusion of a totally new character who - despite appearing as far less complex than the original cast - twists the storyline a lot via her chaotic (and badass) involvement. The already-familiar characters seem to evolve in slightly different paths this time, but I'm not sure if it is going to have an impact in the end since there are still 2 movies to be released. All in all, the writing is nearly as complex as in the original series (which is the ultimate masterpiece of cinema and TV in my opinion) and the film brings new interesting aspects to the characters and the world around them.

Anno's form is still top notch after 15 years. The editing is phenomenal throughout the film and the compositions are breathtaking. The vast budget is well used for gorgeous animation that only enhances the already rich cinematic experience. Shiro Sagisu's soundtrack might be a bit weird in comparison to the TV show because it includes some of his music from other shows and it is a bit more guitar-driven on a few occasions. Despite its different nature it is still quite awesome.

Hideaki Anno proves he is still at the top of his own game despite not doing anything for years prior to the earlier film. No matter how you look at the film, you can't find any flaws at all. It's a clear-cut diamond.

Score: 10 out of 10

Sonatine

Takeshi Kitano's Sonatine (1993) is clearly the film that defines Kitano's trademark style: deadpan humor presented through a calm and peculiar form. As a mob war escalates a group of yakuza decide to go into hiding in Okinawa.

The premise sounds like something that could be used for a lot of suspense and action, but Kitano does not take that route. Instead he explores the way the gangsters spend time hilariously at the beach, which is interrupted by bloody violence sparsely. Kitano's humor is bright and truly funny this time. Solid characterization and the relaxed setting allow it to bloom to new heights. Even though a few themes do unify the film the focus is on comedy and rough violence.

The form is a bit exceptional too. The absolutely gorgeous photography, the calmly moving camera and calm editing patterns make the audience forget the passing of time - it's really easy to get into the film's world because of that. Joe Hisaishi's beautiful score is both haunting and relaxing at the same time - it works well as a cathartic device as well. There are a few moments in which Kitano's approach is quite awkward. For example there is one pivotal action scene that is handled in a dry way despite its slightly dramatic potential. I guess Kitano intended it to be blunt, but it has an effect which is too alienating.

Sonatine is an all-around solid film that is the best choice if you want to be introduced to Kitano's filmography.

Score: 8 out of 10

Special Write-up: LOST

This "review" is spoiler-free until the point I add the actual spoiler warning.

ABC's TV show Lost began airing in 2004. My first glimpse of the show was in 2005 when its pilot was aired on Finnish TV for the first time. Its premise was interesting enough for me: a bunch of castaways being stuck on a mysterious island that kept revealing new secrets all the time. I found interesting characters and the flashbacks to their background stories made the show a particularly rich experience. Lost caught me at a time when I had just got into movies more seriously - even though back then I was a helpless newbie.

I became a hardcore fan of the show almost instantly. I bought the DVD boxes and rewatched the episodes countless times. I was initially intrigued by the mysteries and I spent time a lot of time reading theories and giving my own input to them in a fan community. I admired the show blindly for the first three seasons, but my exploration of cinema eventually opened my eyes. At some point during the first half of the 4th season I realised that the series' writing was rather faulty. After the wonderfully character-centric first season that teased us with mysteries, the second and third seasons had an unforgivable amount of filler episodes, frozen character development and more ridiculous mysteries. But then I thought it was too late to stop so I just kept watching the show and I actually found interesting nuances and details that made me gradually more interested in the show again. The 4th season was a solid effort and I found out that I truly cared about the characters instead of the mysteries - the latter became irrelevant for me.

And that is how I ended up with the opinion I have in regards to the debate whether Lost is character-driven or plot-driven. I have become to hold the plot and mysteries merely as the framework for the characters and themes because the complicated story doesn't work on its own. There are tons of inconsistencies in writing and relying on simple "wow" factor of the mysteries is just cold and dull. And Lost did reward my patience with it because it gradually became better and better. Apart from the messy time travel section of the 5th season it only improved all the time. The series finale was not a disappointment either - it was probably the best 2 hours American TV has ever offered.

Yes, there are plotlines that go nowhere or were treated badly. Yes, there are useless mysteries that were never even addressed afterwards. Yes, most of the characters are rather one-dimensional, but they are still rather fascinating even after 6 seasons (a few of them are utterly terrible though, such as Sayid). And yes, there are only a handful unified themes in the show and some of the motifs remain unused despite repeated use. I don't know what exactly it is among these flaws that makes the show so intriguing - I guess this show is extremely holistic then.

The direction in general is rather messy. The shaky and "edgy" camerawork is dominant in the show and sometimes it is used well, but there are so many times it failed in a miserable way. There are a few notable exceptions when the camera is strictly under control and the results are glorious - the finale is a prime example. The same thing goes for editing as well - there are times when it is terribly random and distracting, but it isn't thoroughly bad. What the show always got right was its set and location design that were simply stunning.

Michael Giacchino's score deserves its own paragraph. Even though it is too sentimental, blatant, heavy-handed and schmaltzy it still works so well. There are times when it is misused or used way too much, but in overall the music keeps the form together. The suspenseful compositions have lesser effect when they are used for pretty much every scene to emphasize a superficially dramatic reveal that is obvious way before we even see it. However, haunting tracks like Life and Death (and the different arrangements of it) prove that Giacchino's score is at its best when it tries to affect your emotions deeply.

From now on there will be spoilers. SPOILER WARNING!

What will I remember about Lost? It will be the characters. You might say that one will naturally develop an emotional bond with the characters after 120 hours, but it's still amazing how the characters are so fascinating and lovable despite the actual character development being so minimal. The show's most tortured characters, Locke and Ben, were the most thoroughly explored characters in the end. Their search for redemption and clarity formed the heart of the show. Then there were great surprises in the last season, surprises which opened the characters for me.

Jack was the character the writers utterly lost after his admirable usage in the first season. However in the last two seasons they created such a clear and affectionate phase of character development as he began to carry the weight of his guilt in different ways. His actions became more and more awesome as the show went on and the logical conclusion was to become the new Jacob - even if it was a brief role that ended with his heroic sacrifice that brought tears to my eyes.

Then there was the comic relief in the form of Hurley and Miles. While Hurley was the lovable genre-savvy character who also had his own drama, Miles was the guy to make cynical remarks that worked surprisingly well on their own. Richard was a mysterious figure for a long time, but once we found about his past he became a tragic character that was even more interesting in the end. Sun & Jin mostly dealt with their own relationship and yet their sweet reunions managed to be touching - and their cruel demise was one of the most heartbreaking moments in the entire show. There was also a bunch of side characters like Frank "forget me for a few episodes" Lapidus that were rather random and useless in the end (or killed off spontaneously like Ilana, that was an epic failure).

The series finale proved me wrong when I thought it couldn't possibly be an emotionally satisfying ending to a show that dragged me along for years. The ultimate moments of redemption and happiness made the show worth watching as the writers showed us just how much they respected and loved the characters as well. And I found it truly incredible that the flash sideways timeline was a sort of an afterlife the main characters had created for themselves - it gave the show a life-affirming tone that enforced the message of "moving on" as Christian Shephard put it. It reminded us fans of the fact that there is a life outside of Lost to which we should return to eventually. I hope I can do that by completing this review. I grew up with the show and even with all of its flaws I can't avoid the fact how much I love it.

Lost (2004-2010): 6 out of 10

The series finale 'The End': 10 out of 10

Inglourious Basterds

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Quentin Tarantino's latest film, Inglourious Basterds (2009), is a rather confusing film when compared to the director's earlier output. Rewriting world history completely is not the peculiar thing, it's Tarantino's restrained and occassionally unfunny approach that is rather distracting. Apart from the juvenile gags and offbeat soundtrack you wouldn't necessarily realise this to be a film from the director who brought us Pulp Fiction.

The idea of a bunch of Americans slaying Hitler might sound like a great premise for a Tarantino film, but it surprisingly falls flat. Apart from Hans Landa, the characters are quite one-dimensional. Now this wouldn't really be a problem since Tarantino usually handles them well, but none of them really get to shine in this film since they aren't really funny. Luckily Landa has a lot of screentime to make the film enjoyable - and the cast is good enough to make the film solid.

The form is distracting because, well, it isn't heavy-handedly present like in the director's earlier films. The more "restrained" and conventional approach would be fine if Tarantino was serious - he's not. This clinical approach makes the film awkward on many occasions because the jokes fall flat without Tarantino's tongue-in-cheek camerawork and editing. Using Morricone's compositions is a weird idea for a film set in the 40's and the result is a bit puzzling. While it works once in a while, the soundtrack as a whole is not convincing. Now add a few totally random/sloppy cuts and you have a form that doesn't exactly serve the film's purpose.

Inglourious Basterds could have been yet another success for Tarantino, but the execution stumbles a little. However, Christoph Waltz' towering performance almost single-handedly redeems the film.

Score: 6 out of 10

Kill Bill (Volumes 1 and 2)

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Quentin Tarantino's two-part action masterpiece Kill Bill (2003 & 2004) is probably one of the most famous cinematic efforst of the noughties. It is a wild story of a woman taking revenge on a group of assassins who put her into coma and took her baby. Whereas the first film is an outrageous, tongue-in-cheek combination of Japanese pop cultural references, the sequel mixes that pattern with spaghetti westerns and somewhat serious drama.

The plot itself is rather simple as the main character, The Bride, eliminates each assassin one by one before going after Bill, the biggest bad guy of them all. The films are ridiculously full of references to other films and cultures. The weird mixture of yakuza, samurai myth and God knows what else can be found in the Crazy 88's, a group of sword-wielding gangsters The Bride slaughters in a famous action scene. The epic setpieces are entertaining on their own and this one in particular is one of the finest achievements of the genre. And the best part is the climax of the whole setpiece: an elegant duel in a Japanese garden covered in snow. There is also an entirely animated sequence for the origin story of one of the assassins, O-Ren Ishii, which fits surprisingly well into the film.

The sequel is a bit rougher in tone although it manages to be funny at the same time. Although occasionally it is indeed a bit confusing as the balance between actual drama and silly entertainment does not work smoothly. However it's not a drastic hindrance when the film still features great action scenes (none of them rival the Crazy 88's sequence, though) and an interesting flashback storyline.

The form is a triumph in both parts. Tarantino's slick use of music is refined here - although the 2nd Volume pales a bit in comparison to the 1st one. That does not mean it is bad at all. The editing switches between intensive/kinetic and relaxed to create a funnily "charistmatic" tone at all times. Charismatic in the way that it makes the film easily entertaining and never lets the viewer fall into boredom.

Above all, Kill Bill is top quality entertainment that never pretends to be anything else - even I was easily sucked into its violent and simple-minded world.

Scores:

Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003): 10 out of 10

Kill Bill Vol. 2 (2004): 8 out of 10

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A Country Doctor

Koji Yamamura's experimental animated short film A Country Doctor (2007) is an adaptation of Franz Kafka's short story of the same name. Adapting Kafka is often problematic because it is nigh impossible to portray the peculiarities of Kafka's prose onscreen. Yamamura succeeds quite well by using weird techniques like distorting the characters throughout the film and the art design is sketchy and creepy. The absurd and delusional story is certainly interesting, but in the end the short film is not superb. It's "only" very good.

Score: 8 out of 10

PS: It's uploaded on YouTube in three parts.

Jackie Brown

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Quentin Tarantino's Jackie Brown (1997) is the director's first slip-up. Essentially it is a long movie about a complex con a stewardess pulls off, but it is presented without a punch. A Tarantino film lacking the punch is an utter failure. It's almost as if he tried to hide his unsatisfying dialogue and boring characters under a superficially complex plot. Not even actors like Samuel L. Jackson can bring the characters to life - there is something wrong with the writing.

Even the form falters a little here. It certainly has decent camerawork and good editing, but Tarantino's soundtrack is hit-and-miss - too random this time that it doesn't even fit to the mood at all on some occasions.

And all of this mediocrity goes on for 150 minutes so it's not really tolerable either.

Score: 5 out of 10

Pulp Fiction

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Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction (1994) is often considered the director's best achievement. Four storylines of violence and salvation (most characters are seen in more than one storyline) are combined to one hell of a film. Tarantino's snarky dialogue dominates the two and half an hour running time and some of the film's quirky scenes have become legendary for Tarantino's fans.

Tarantino's writing is really compact and interesting this time. In comparison to Reservoir Dogs the scenes never feel like they go on for too long - although Butch's storyline is initially less impressive than the other ones. There's a huge cast of interesting characters, such as Jules - Samuel L. Jackson's Bible-reciting hitman who faces a miracle - and the Wolf - Harvey Keitel's cool gentleman whose specialty is to solve any sort of problems.

Pulp Fiction's form is also more refined and it is not distracting. Instead it is more successfully intertwined with the content. However, I'm not still a big fan of stylished camerawork for the sake of appearing as "cool". And naturally the soundtrack is marvellous.

Pulp Fiction is certainly the American epitome of coolness and snarkiness, but I don't find it nearly as impressive as the fanboys do.

Score: 9 out of 10

Reservoir Dogs

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Writer/director Quentin Tarantino's directorial debut Reservoir Dogs (1992) features the director's famous trademarks - even though they are still a bit unrefined. Essentially the film is about a group of criminals planning to rob a jewelry store, but the catch is that the heist fails in a terribly bloody way. The movie explores the consequences of the heist as the criminals begin arguing while trying to figure out just why the heist failed.

Tarantino is clever by leaving the heist itself offscreen and he depends on the ambitious narrative to deliver the emotional impact on the viewers (if that doesn't work then the screenplay would have been screwed). Tarantino is known for his masterful dialogue, but Reservoir Dogs doesn't completely deliver in this department. While it might work perfectly sometimes (such as the opening scene) there are times when it's stretched too much or simply too offbeat (dialogue between Orange and White). 

The camera work is also a bit unbalanced. When there's running, shooting or pointing guns involved in the scene Tarantino performs rather well, but during the dialogue-heavy scenes there are a few oddities that are so clearly made for the sake of being stylish. That's offputting. The use of music might feel a bit forced in Reservoir Dogs, but it works rather well in any case.

There are numerous flaws in Reservoir Dogs, but they are rather minor in the end. It is a fascinating crime film that deserves its cult status - even if it is quite overrated due to a mass of enthusiastic teenagers.

Score: 8 out of 10

Violent Cop

Takeshi Kitano's debut film Violent Cop (1989) is one of the most pathetic efforts at making a film I've seen in a while. The screenplay doesn't hold itself together enough well for a proper plot synopsis so I can only say the following. Everyone beats up everyone. Kitano's bad cop is the only properly characterized character - others become a blurry mass of incarnated nihilism upon which Kitano lays his violence. And then the others beat Kitano up, too. It's a mess.

Apart from the massive amount of cop outs, nihilism and clunky storytelling, the film is technically somewhat decent. Kitano's long take aesthetic does feel quite forced here and on some occasions the long takes are simply not justified. Kitano stretches the scenes only for the sake of doing so. I don't want to even write about the terrible soundtrack that is so painfully 80's.

Avoid it unless you are a diehard fan of Kitano. Nihilism for the sake of nihilism never works.

Score: 3 out of 10

Brother

Takeshi Kitano's Brother (2000) has an interesting premise: Kitano mixing yakuza and American organized crime through his deadpan comedy. He plays a notorious Japanese gangster who has to go to USA in order to avoid being killed. There he intends to gain power for his brother's small and pathetic gangster group.

Kitano avoids focusing on the details of how he rises to power and instead focuses on the humor and what comes afterwards. The rougher-than-sandpaper comedy simply does not work here. It is only amusing on a few occasions because Omar Epps is able to lighten up the silly English dialogue. Characters come and go quite chaotically. Sometimes it seems like Kitano is trying to establish an emotional connection with the audience, but he utterly fails because he either lets the humor run wild or the sentimental bits fall apart due to horrendous writing.

Kitano's "offbeat" cinematography and editing work in a satisfying way, but Hisaishi's musical score is awfully used because it does not fit to the dry comical tone at all. Kitano's and Epps' performance are fine, but they are the only actors given proper roles - the other characters are so uncharacterized or distracting that the actors can't do anything to save the script.

Brother could have become a fine film, but Kitano lost himself along the way.

Score: 5 out of 10

Love Exposure

I reviewed Sion Sono's Love Exposure (2009) last December after I had seen it for the first time. I finally decided to rewatch the epic 4-hour film now that I own it on DVD. The film doesn't lose even a shred of its tremendous power on a rewatch. The experience of watching the film for the first time was so involving that I mostly forgot to approach it more analytically. During this rewatch I received the chance to fix that and the film still holds up as one of the greatest films I've ever seen.

Essentially Love Exposure is a love story. Try to imagine the most absurd and convoluted love story ever made and make it one that is intensive and interesting for 4 hours - then you are close to understanding what Love Exposure is like. Add outrageously funny jokes, an exploration of religious problems, crossdressing as a serious story device and a lot of other things. Love Exposure explores so many different directions it's a miracle that it is even coherent.

Even though (obsessive/delusive) love is more like a frame story in Love Exposure it is also an important, central subject/theme in the film. As the title suggests the film is about "being exposed to love", but the film adds its own twist to it by exposing love to a few of the most mentally screwed characters of the decade. The conflicts and problems of organized religion are approached via moral corruption and amorality that is guaranteed to disturb anyone. It really tells something about the film's perversive screenplay that panties and hard-ons are used as significant motifs for self-discovery.

Not only does the writing switch constantly between different moods (tangible drama/tragedy & laugh-out-loud comedy), the form is very flexible as well. Visually Sono employs interesting techniques on different occassions: Tarantino-esque editing and camerawork, long take aesthetic, modern shakycam (surprisingly well done in the right context) and even splitscreens. He knows exactly when to pause the chaotic madness and lets the audience catch their breath - and even then the plot marches forward at an insane pace. The soundtrack also reflects the various moods by alternating between Yura Yura Teikoku's charming psychedelic rock and classical music.

Due to its enormous length the film relies a lot on its young cast. Nishijima, Mitsushima and Ando perform superbly - and even though Nishijima does most of the heavy lifting, the ladies steal every scene they are in. Weirdly enough that never distracts the audience because Sono manages to make it feel fitting/justified.

Love Exposure is Sono's magnum opus in all possible ways: it delves into heavy themes while retaining his interest for gore. It's one hell of a tour de force for everyone involved in the production because it is utterly complex yet surprisingly simple and understandable at the same time. It's not only a technical exercise in complexity and absurdity, it's also emotionally involving to the point that it becomes a truly enjoyable catharsis for the viewer.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Pitfall

The Pitfall (1962) was Hiroshi Teshigahara's debut as a fiction film director. I've got to say that this is an incredibly ambitious film for a debut because it barely keeps itself together during the 90-minute running time. Initially the film seems like a story of two miners trying to make a living, but eventually it ends up becoming a cryptic mystery combined with a ghost story and social critique. There's also a (possibly unintentional) level of dark comedy that becomes dominant on a few instances. The narrative rushes between these different aspects at such a fast pace that I'm not sure what to make of this film even though there are obvious hints of brilliance scattered all over the film.

Even if you think the screenplay fails there's a lot to be enjoyed about the film's form. Takemitsu's sparse and experimental musical score sets the atmosphere all the way from the very first scene with its menacing tone. Segawa's striking black and white cinematography is guaranteed to pull anyone into the film's fascinating world.

The Pitfall was the first of three collaborations between the director Teshigahara, avant-garde novelist Abe, experimental composer Takemitsu and brilliant cinematographer Segawa (the first three collaborators would also make another film together afterwards). One of the other collaborations would be Woman of the Dunes (1964), one of my favorite films of all time. The Pitfall pales in comparison to this masterpiece because it is incapable of handling its own ambition in writing.

Score: 8 out of 10

Late Chrysanthemums

Mikio Naruse's Late Chrysanthemums (1954) is a film about 3 former geishas who try to cope with monetary and family issues. Weirdly enough the film offers a great observation on the geisha tradition even though we see none of the activity onscreen. Instead it focuses on the effects of the profession on the three main characters when they are already old.

The characters are clearly and strongly characterized, which makes the film a lot more enjoyable because its focus is on the characters in the end. The narrative is satisfying - even if its methods of exposition (forced bits of dialogue and inner monologues) are a tad awkward, they fit into the context of the film.

Naruse's form functions well although it is not necessarily spectacular. At times it reminded me of Ozu's visual aesthetic due to the low camera positions and actors talking directly at the camera. However the similarities are only superficial - and it's probably better that way. The lighting was a bit hard to judge because the image was quite dark in BFI's DVD release, but it seemed reasonable.

Late Chrysanthemums falls between When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (1960) and Floating Clouds (1955) in terms of quality: it's a thoroughly solid effort, but nothing more.

Score: 8 out of 10

Floating Clouds

Mikio Naruse's Floating Clouds (1955) is mostly ruined by a disastrous first half. The film establishes the story of obsessive love between the two main characters in such a rush that the viewer is left confused. The narrative doesn't calm down once for the first 25 minutes - and even after that it's still a bit lost until the film reaches its midpoint. The characters aren't really fleshed out until it's a bit too late and the music is as subtle as a sledgehammer when it should only be like a gentle push. Even Masayuki Mori's and Hideko Takamine's brilliant performances seem offbeat due to the sloppiness.

Yet the film still manages to be unified by a clear exploration of obsessive love and the photography is mostly spot-on (along with satisfying editing). Fortunately the film gets better the further it goes: the characters become interesting, the narrative remains dense - even though the pacing is a lot calmer - and the music is used well (even if it is still rather melodramatic). The tragedy is final when even the toughest character breaks into tears.

I admit I had high expectations for this film after When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (1960) blew my mind and I have to mention that these two films are vastly different. I wonder what the final film of my Naruse Collection DVD set, Late Chrysanthemums (1954), has in store for me.

Score: 6 out of 10

When a Woman Ascends the Stairs

Even though I'm a big fan of Japanese cinema I hadn't seen a film by Mikio Naruse before I watched When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (1960). His name is often mentioned alongside the Big Three (Kurosawa, Mizoguchi & Ozu) and the Japanese New Wave directors (Oshima, Imamura etc) as the most important (and best) Japanese directors of all time. At least judging by this film I wholeheartedly agree.

Essentially When a Woman Ascends the Stairs is about a Japanese bar hostess (set in post-WW2 Japan) at a significant point in her life: because she's already 30, she has to either open her own bar or get married. The screenplay offers a thorough depiction of the age, a stunning character study AND in a subtle way it also explores the weak position of women in the Japanese society. Naruse doesn't point fingers as obviously as Mizoguchi - and even manages to find some delight for the main character within her restricted choices. Even though the main character is fascinating and complex enough on her own the huge cast of side characters is also given a lot of attention - and they are not disappointing characters either. The screenplay's epic scope leaves me rather speechless.

The form is not subtle in the minimalistic Ozu way. Instead Naruse employs effective yet nearly unnoticable editing patterns that keep the focus on the essential. Mostly medium distance shots are used to keep a pleasant sense of intimacy, but when an "empty" (= a lot of empty space in the shot) long distance shot is used, it is used to great effect that is almost cathartic. The compositions are also rather interesting. When a Woman Ascends the Stairs is certainly a film I'd like to study closer at some point - even if only for its visual aspects. The restrained jazz music of the soundtrack is also used in an excellent way.

Japanese cinema delivers yet another big surprise for me. Even though I was aware of Naruse's reputation among film buffs I didn't realize I would experience something as vivid as this film. It has certainly found a place among my favorite films of all time.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Fly

No, this is not the Cronenberg film. I'm writing about Ferenc Rófusz's experimental animated short film that was made in 1980. It is a 3-minute film about a fly buzzing around until it enters a house and ... you can probably figure out the rest. The sparse amount of frames per second gives it an intensive atmosphere - which is made even more tangible by the use of a "fake" fish-eye lens that has been used later in anime by Hideaki Anno for example. You could probably write a brief analysis of nihilism or terrible discrimination of insects if you wanted to, but this film is all about badass technical madness.

Score: 8 out of 10

PS: The film is uploaded on YouTube.

Throne of Blood

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Throne of Blood (1957) is yet another loose Shakespeare adaptation for the director Akira Kurosawa: this time Macbeth was the play Kurosawa used as inspiration. Set in feudal Japan, the film follows the rise and tragic fall of a samurai (Toshiro Mifune). Kurosawa delivers yet another tangible exploration of greed and loyalty. He creates a cast of interesting characters that are introduced remarkably well.

If the writing alone is impressive, then the form is even more so. Captivating camerawork (that calms down for pivotal scenes to a stunning effect), atmospheric lighting and absolutely marvellous sets make this film a breathtaking experience for anyone. Mifune is a scene stealer yet again with his expressive performance.

Throne of Blood is yet another astonishing masterpiece from Kurosawa who is quite possibly my favorite director of all time.

Score: 10 out of 10

Citizen Kane

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Orson Welles' Citizen Kane (1941) is probably the single most revered film in existence. It is often said it is the film that saved, defined and revived the medium and the industry. It has been raised on a ridiculously high pedestral and if anyone even dares to second guess the film for a moment he (or she) will be attacked at or at least completely ignored. It's the Holy Bible of film lovers.

What is this great film about, then? The rise and fall of Charlie Foster Kane. This sort of story has become increasingly popular after Citizen Kane, but none of them have really mastered the idea as well. The life of the complex main character is thoroughly explored, but the narrative is probably a bit too dense for its sake. The narrative exposition feels a bit forced at times and it managed to make me feel a bit alienated. The film's emotional impact was reduced.

Pretty much everything has been written about the film's impeccable from. Its camerawork is probably as refined as it can get. The editing is ambitious and works well throughout the film's running time. The musical score is a tad generic, but it was hardly a nuisance.

In the end, Citizen Kane is a film I can admire, but I will probably never love.

Score: 9 out of 10

And the film lovers gasped in unison once they saw the "low" score.

The Hole

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If you have followed this blog for a while, you must have figured out that I'm a big fan of the director Ming-liang Tsai. I finally had the chance to see one of the few films of his I had not yet seen - The Hole (1998). It is yet another exploration of alienation and loneliness from the director: in an abandoned Taiwan, two "survivors" try to cope with said themes after a lousy plumber creates a hole between their apartments.

This is the first time Tsai uses slapstick comedy and musical scenes during his career and they already work quite well - although they are not as refined as in his later films like What Time Is It There and The Wayward Cloud. When it comes to Tsai films, you are guaranteed to get a thorough study on the same themes so the focus is shifted towards how he approaches it. The song-and-dance numbers are surprisingly straightforward in the way they are related to the actual plot. The humor stands out so well that it sometimes feels as if Tsai isn't serious about the script at all. That's only a minor gripe, though.

Combined with the relatively bad audio quality of the DVD, the film's weird sound design was rough on my ears at first, but I got used to the constant background noise caused mostly by neverending rain. Tsai uses only Grace Chang's songs as the soundtrack - and even they are only used in the musical scenes. The (intentionally) downright ugly sets were intriguing yet they never made the film seem as grim as they could have. Tsai's long take aesthetic is always present and this film is unsurprisingly yet another photographical achievement for the director.

Tsai's films might be tough to watch - and even harder to review - on the first time so I don't think I have achieved what I wanted with this review. Tsai's cinema is the cause of undying fascination for me and it is something I will certainly delve deeper into in future. I hope I can write a better review for this blog of The Hole someday.

Score: 9 out of 10

The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya

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The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya (2010) is the latest release in the Haruhi Suzumiya franchise which was originally released (and still continues) as light novels. The fans of the franchise know very well that the anime series has had its ups and downs: while the first season was nearly as perfect as it could get, the second season was riddled with intentional redundancy - unlike anything else I've ever witnessed before. The makers have now resurrected the franchise by animating the most popular volume of the light novels into a 3-hour ride full of astonishment and development.

Writing a compact plot synopsis would be a futile attempt so I'm going to simply refer to what others have written about the TV show that preceded this film. The film leaves behind the show's "pseudo-scifi" (meaning that the science fiction becomes hard this time) and comical aspects so that the focus remains on the complex plot that serves as a great way to explore the main character, Kyon. It's not only Kyon who faces a drastical amount of character development in the film, but the advancement of the central storyline brings forth new things about the characters in a way that is - as much as I hate to use the word - surprisingly deep.

The film is a great visual achievement as well. The melancholic art direction and editing - which were seldomly used in the show - dominate the picture in an enthralling way that fits to the grim content. The simple fact that the film is incredibly well animated for 160 minutes makes the film a special and asthonishing case in the anime industry.

The film left me nearly speechless. It's unlike anything I've experienced while watching an anime film since, well, End of Evangelion and the second Rebuild of Evangelion film. Excluding the latter title, The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya is certainly the finest animated effort in the film format in the last 10 years.

Score: 10 out of 10