Battle Royale

Kinji Fukasaku's Battle Royale (2000) is a controversial film based on a controversial novel. The Japanese are afraid of their youth and bypass an act called "Battle Royale" which allows a class of ninth graders (per year) to take a brutal challenge: kill each other off until one stands or they all will be killed. The soldiers and teachers equip them with various weapons, control them with lethal necklaces and leave them alone on a huge island for 3 days.

Its premise sounds more fitting for a silly exploitation film - which it is not. Instead it is a clever social commentary on education and generational gap. It explores its premise thorougly and becomes a psychologically great examination as well - and even though most of the characters' screentime is around 2 or 3 minutes, all of them are fully developed and none of them are disposable. When this is done on an epic scale like in Battle Royale, it enables the film to explore the repressed emotions and beliefs of the youth.

Each death brings up a new perspective (or even an entirely new theme) to the film's vast content. That's how the film keeps the viewer's attention constantly occupied and the film's emotional impact is truly sad instead of being only shocking. There are a few darkly comic moments in the film, but mostly the tone is very dramatic and grim.

Trust, friendships and love are tested as friends kill each other and lovers commit suicide. The fragility of the separate groups is heartbreaking - especially in the brilliant lighthouse sequence which I consider one of the best scenes of the decade. The narrative is so meticulously constructed that it swept me in right away and almost made me completely forget about the form (which is good as well).

Fukasaku engages the rich and controversial screenplay with needed intensity and drama. He mixes classical compositions with instrumental music created for the movie to create a very dramatic musical score. It could easily lead to maudlin sentimentality, but Fukasaku employs them in the correct way to make the drama tangible. Occasional use of handheld camerawork and intensive yet precise editing patterns add to the film's strong impact on the viewer.

Kinji Fukasaku's Battle Royale is a hard-hitting and complex film which deals with themes I hold in high regard. It makes me even more interested in the director's earlier filmography which is quite hard to obtain from anywhere.

Score: 10 out of 10

Barking Dogs Never Bite

Joon-ho Bong's film debut, Barking Dogs Never Bite (2000), is a black comedy about an unemployed college lecturer who decides to kill his neighbour's annoying dog. There's a bunch of colorful side characters that make the film so complicated and hilarious - such as the main character's strong-minded and pregnant wife. Even though Bong tries to balance the drama and the comedy, the film ends up being more comic than serious. However, that's not necessarily a bad thing because the film is at its best when it is funny. I nearly forgot how serious the film was with its social concerns and animal cruelty when I began to laugh uncontrollably during other scenes.

Even though the content is uneven, Bong's form is already quite refined in his debut. The cinematography switches between static and kinetic "phases" which are both finely executed. The camera movement is well handled, the occasional use of Dutch angles is good and the best thing about the cinematography was the brilliant use of close-ups. When I think about it, only Woman in the Dunes comes into mind when thinking about powerful close-ups in films I have seen recently.

Barking Dogs Never Bite is funny but flawed film which is certainly a strong debut for any director. I'll be looking forward to see Joon-ho Bong's other films.

Score: 7 out of 10

Audition

On the 30th of July in 2009: I watched Takashi Miike's Audition (1999) for the first time. Even though I was somewhat aware of the film's reputation, it took me by surprise and made me flinch more than anything I had seen during the year. Initially it decreased my interest in Miike, but gradually I began to watch a few other films he had directed.

Today: I rewatched Audition - and this time I was ready for it.

Audition is the story of a widow who begins to search for a new, young wife by holding an audition. The one he falls in love with seems to be something completely different to what he initially expected. Even though Miike himself denies it, the film is focused on the social commentary. He attacks the values of modern Japanese men: the main character resorts to holding a fake audition in order to find a woman who matches his high (and exact) standards. Naturally, it is exaggerated, but it is a brilliant observation on what a lot of Japanese men have become.

The film's structure works like a proper horror film with a long build-up that explodes in a fantastic way. At the same time it manages to be satirical successfully: it's almost impossible to separate the suspense and the humor. The final third of the film is something one will not see coming even when you are aware of the film's reputation. It is such a provocative and brilliant way to explore the characters' psyches - and it manages to leave an unforgettable impression on the viewer. The only problem I have with the content is how it plays around with reality and illusion. Sometimes it works - and sometimes it does not. Although that made possible to create the film's best sequence - a dream-like (and even postmodern) exploration of the characters.

The film's form is fascinating as well. During the first half of the film, it manages to be distant while keeping the emotionally invested in the characters. The slight alienation is only for the better because in the final third, the form becomes so intimate and brutally honest that it has a huge effect on the viewer. The first half of the film is almost very foreboding when you look at the cinematography - especially the lighting.

In overall, Audition is a great film that could have become a masterpiece, but doesn't barely reach that status.

Score: 9 out of 10

Suicide Club

(the picture is not mine, took it from lovehkfilm.com*)

Sion (or Shion, depending on how you romanize his first name) Sono's Suicide Club (2001) is known for causing two disliked things: confusion and controversy. The film opens with a scene involving a mass suicide of 54 schoolgirls, and concludes with a music video starring 12-year-old girls. What happens in between is bizarre and surprising - including a detective story, lots of satiric gore, a creepier version of Alex de Large and a "mass suicide fad".

Sono's social commentary is harsh, provocative but brilliant. Before he made the film, the suicide rates in Japan had risen drastically. Although it is not obvious at first, Sono tries to point out the problems causing the high suicide rate. The flick's social criticism works on a grand scale - it doesnt examine only a small detail or two. The scariest (and probably the most important) aspect of the content is how mass suicides become a trend among the Japanese.

Sono's approach to the subject is peculiar and fascinating. He performs a trick similar to the one Takashi Miike used in Ichi the Killer: making audience think by approaching controversial topics in a blunt and shocking way. The exaggerated, satiric use of blood gives the film a playful tone (if you arent too squeamish).

In the end, the film is Sono's uplifting message to the Japanese: even though it's "scary and hard" (as the last song suggests), you should keep on living and stay true to yourself. The film's surreal plot might be a bit cryptic at first - especially during the last half hour. What makes the film even weirder is that the preteen children of the film deliver the most important and wise statements about self-discovery and perseverance.

Sadly, the film's content is not perfect. Its narrative is clunky and unfocused. The film is frantic in switching between characters and storylines. Because its running time is short (99 mins), this explosive narrative leaves everything a bit underdeveloped - even though it manages to get its message clearly across.

Sono's form is brilliant as well. He proves he can handle camera panning and editing quite well. He doesnt go too wild with the form - I guess this is good because then you can focus on the content.Suicide Club would be a masterpiece if its narrative wasnt so badly structured. Although you should realise that Suicide Club is by no means an easy film to watch or understand because it is far from a straightforward film: you have to be willing to go beyond its superficial level to enjoy it.

Score: 8 out of 10

* = the link to image source: http://www.lovehkfilm.com/panasia/suicide_club.htm

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

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

Antichrist

I finally watched Lars von Trier's Antichrist (2009) which has ignited a lot of discussion. Its controversial content turned Cannes upside down. Roger Ebert called it the most despairing film he had ever seen. The film opens with an unnamed couple's (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) passionate love scene that almost reaches the levels of hardcore porn. That is crosscut with their child's accidental death. The woman feels guilty of this naturally: they were making love while they should have been with the child. The man's initial reaction is grief, but then he begins to "treat" his wife like a cold psychoanalyst. To deal with this problem, they go to their remote cabin (called Eden for some silly reason) and the shit literally hits the fans there - even to the point of complete sexual mutilation.

After I had watched the film, I spent AN HOUR only reading about the film because I couldnt decide whether the film's content was actually good or not. There are too many distracting moments in the film. In the end the film is about the man whose mind is in chaos although it seems the film is about the woman. The film makes more sense that way. When you take into consideration that this film was developed during von Trier's depression and it was his way to get rid of it, it makes sense to interpret this way. And as such, it is actually quite good, but the distracting moments in the film just rub me the wrong way. I'm not talking about the violent and controversial scenes, but there are hints that give the viewer the wrong impression: non-sense Christian references and weird conclusions about the "nature of women", for example.

For the first time in almost two decades, Lars von Trier finds the right form his film. The Dogme films have been more or less messed up attempts at creating a form that actually fits the film. I've only seen Europa of his pre-Dogme films and that is a better example of good form than any of the Dogme films. In Antichrist, he saves sweet slowmotion and B&W photography (occassionally awesome color photography, too) for the right moments. Even though the rest of the scenes are clearly shot handheld, the shaky camera movement isnt excessive - and that is perfect for the film.

The performances are simply breathtaking. Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg have taken a risk by performing in a von Trier film, but they make the most of it in Antichrist. Their relationship is so intimate and intensive on the film that it is unbelieveable for it to only happen in front of the cameras. The courage of the actors is certainly put to test here.

The film is certainly controversial, but shouldnt be dismissed only as a film attempting to shock: it has a lot more going on under the surface.

Score: 8 out of 10

Double Review: "Ichi the Killer" and "Visitor Q"

Here's yet another double review for today: two Takashi Miike's films, Visitor Q (2001) and Ichi the Killer (2001). Both of these films are extremely controversial, and especially Ichi the Killer has become known as one of the most disgusting and violent films ever. Ichi the Killer focuses on three central characters. The title character, Ichi, is a mentally damaged young man; Kakihara is an extremely sadistic and masochistic yakuza boss; Kaneko is an ex-cop who has become a criminal. All of these three characters are engaged in a complicated plot that involves a LOT of cartoonish violence and gore. Visitor Q, on the other hand, is a lot rougher. It is the story of an extremely dysfunctional modern family. I wont reveal a lot of details, but I'll warn you by saying this: it touches on almost every possible controversial topics. It involves - for example - incest, necrophilia and lactation.

Ichi the Killer is often misunderstood as glorification of violence, but Miike inteded it as quite the opposite. It has a mixture of cartoonish, horrible CGI and physical, raw gore. The CGI bits will probably have you laughing out loud - and that's what Miike wanted as well. But he skillfully merges it with shocking gore that makes us really ponder why we actually laughed at the violence. It makes fun of exploitation, yet it seems to laugh at itself too. It is a refreshing and brave take on violence. Although it partly seems that Miike enjoys disturbing the audience, Ichi the Killer really does have a strong message. The story is carefully crafted and the characters are well-developed. Even though it is clearly a parody, the dramatic bits work well too and if the screenplay was slightly altered, it could be interpret as a completely serious film. The climax is one of the best I have ever seen - it is simply fascinating. As funny as it may sound, you can also interpret the film as a tragic story. It just happens to include sadomasochism.

Visitor Q is certainly more controversial than Ichi the Killer. At first it seems a lot more serious than Ichi, but in the end it becomes more like a farce. I understood it as a wild and weird exaggeration of modern families. The dad is only focused on his job and not on his family; the mom tries to take care of the family and accepts anything, both good and bad things; the son is very violent, isolated from others and on top of it all, spoiled. But once a mysterious guest enters the house, the family begins to change gradually. There is also a daughter who lives elsewhere and she is a whore. Seriously. It makes a valid point of modern society although it goes so ridiculously over-the-top - but that is luckily on purpose. The last half of Visitor Q erupts so hilariously that I laughed through the last 25 minutes. Although all of these controversial topics reach their culmination points, it is funny as hell. And even more absurd is the effect on the family. At first I thought Visitor Q was going to be a silly and onesided social commentary, but the end made me change my mind because it was so brilliantly farcical.

Ichi the Killer's form is intriguing and a little pulsating. Mostly it has shots that have great compositions, but then there are a few oddities in the editing, like the beginning of the film. Miike uses slowmotion and fastmotion very absurdly, especially the latter. His use of slowmotion in the climax was a little distracting because it reminded me of Snyder at first, but luckily he didnt overuse it. As you might have guessed, every bit of violence is as juicy as possible - to silly extremes. Miike proves himself to be a talented director as well by being able to do that for 2 hours without any problem.

Visitor Q is the opposite of Ichi in form. It has a calm - and sometimes even documentarian - feeling to it. The camera rarely moves and when it moves, it is slow and smooth. Even though there arent significantly long shots in the film, it feels like there arent many cuts because it moves on such a calm pace. When the shit hits the fan - the farce becomes dominant - the camerawork becomes a bit more lively and more interactive. The farcical climax is something everyone should feel although the content is highly disturbing, but is presented in such a great way that it is impossible not to laugh.

Ichi the Killer's acting is fascinating. Even though Kakihara is one of the strangest and most unsympathetic characters ever, Tadanobu Asano makes him so damn interesting and human that I became actively interested on how he developed and what he was going to get next. The same thing goes for Ichi who isnt really anything *that* special as a character. In Visitor Q, Kenichi Endo's performance as the father is so unbelievably towering that I still havent fully recovered from it. He is SENSATIONAL.

If you can stand cartoonish violence and controversy, you should totally watch these films. I insist.

Scores:

Visitor Q (2001): 9 out of 10

Ichi the Killer (2001): 8 out of 10

Dogville

Lars von Trier's Dogville (2003) is a pessimistic study of human behaviour. It tells the story of a woman who decides to hide in a small town after being chased by gangster. Eventually she finds out that the town isn't what it seems to be. My introduction to the plot might make it seem like a run-of-the-mill thriller, but it is not like that. As Lars von Trier's film often are, Dogville is a controversial film. There are American critics who hate it because it's "anti-American", while others say von Trier is extremely misogynistic. I can easily say it is neither, but it isn't a great film either. Dogville can be seen as a part of two von Trier trilogies. First of all, it is part of his so-called America trilogy - which also includes Manderlay and not-yet-made Wasington (apparently without 'h') - and secondly, it can be considered a part of his unofficial trilogy of films where women are treated badly. There is one thing I guarantee: you'll be a lot more paranoid about small towns after you have seen Dogville.

Lars von Trier uses one of the easiest tricks I know: at first he builds something really beautiful which he then boldly destroys slowly and painfully. And he is able to do that in one of the most offensive ways I can think of. It is one of the most common ways to approach "evilness" as a theme. The film's view of humans is naturally pessimistic because of that. However, the thematic depth feels ridiculously forced most of the time. There is no redeeming quality for any character in the end, which is an insultingly one-sided and childish take on evilness. In the end we realise there is nothing we can compare these evil actions to because even the nice beginning is full of people who lie and pretend to be kind. On the other hand, I have to admit it does satisfyingly explore variations of what 'evil' means.

Dogville features a lot of characters that are given almost equal attention. The major storyline does focus on Grace and - to some extent - Tom, but the people of the village are given more attention than you would expect. That is why Dogville is almost 3 hours long: each character is handled carefully. While they might be colorful and nicely varying characters, all of them are dumbened down to be extremely egocentric in the end. Maybe von Trier was trying to tell everyone is egocentric these days, but it falls flat when human behaviour is portrayed in a dumb way like in Dogville. One hides his true, obsessive and egocentric self behind fancy words, and the main character is submissive beyond human limits. Her character made me think of Dogville's plot as similar to an idiot plot. According to Dogville, von Trier's view of humans is that we deny and fight against everything unfamiliar to the point of being utterly silly and dumb. Well, that might be the case for some people and some oddities, but it is far from a general rule. This sort of thinking left me feeling disappointed and empty. Von Trier doesn't handle this perspective with enough care.

Dogville relies a LOT on the narration. Character's inner thoughts, the themes and some of the events are completely told through narration that dominates a lot of Dogville. Maybe it's von Trier's attempt to be literary - the film is even divided into clear chapters with headings for each - for shit and giggles, but the narration shows von Trier's weakness in writing. He seems unable to portray his thoughts otherwise in Dogville. While von Trier apparently wants to draw viewer's attention from things other than the content, narration certainly gathers more attention than the actual core of the content, which I see as a weird "paradox". The narration also forces the viewer to submit to one view instead of interpreting the content on his - or her - own. It sometimes simply narrates the thematic side to each scene, which is a failure in my opinion. If you are so desparate to get your message across, you'll lose the point of film as a way of expression.  With narration, von Trier totally forgets the most important rule of screenwriting: don't tell, show instead.

There are also random moments in the dialogue that really jump at the viewer as forced and silly. For one, von Trier wants to use the definition of 'stoicism' for some reason as a relevant factor in one relationship between character and it really comes out of the blue. There is also a similar moment to this when Grace changes sheets for a bed and she suddenly lets a thought slip. Even the narrator says something along the lines of "-- she suddenly thought --", which served no purpose of any kind. It left me even frustrated with the film.

Dogville has been criticized for being anti-American. Even though it is a part of "America" trilogy, von Trier's attempt is not to aim at American - Dogville is meant to be universal. Von Trier simply chose America because it is such a well known country. The universality is even addressed in the film's own dialogue. Tom is writing a story of a small town and when Grace proposes that it should be Dogville, - because it is influenced by Dogville - Tom rejects the idea. He wants the story to be universal so he wont name it the country he lives in. Von Trier has never visited the USA because of his many phobias so it is fair to say that he isnt passing judgment on the country in Dogville.

There are also people who call von Trier a misogynist, but that is not the case either. This shouldnt be said just because he doesnt treat his main female characters well and he doesnt get along with his female leads. In his films, he always portrays men as the most disgusting and worst humans. Women are mostly frail, innocent and sympathetic - with a few exceptions of course.

In Dogville's form, the most notable and famous aspect is the fact how von Trier made the whole film very theatrical. The whole film relies on one huge setpiece which has almost no props or buildings on it although it is supposed to be a complete town. Instead, the buildings' walls are marked by chalk drawings on the mat, spots are named with text on the mat and only a few important props actually exist in the film. Even though there are no doors or walls, the actors behave like there are such: they open invisible doors and dont see anything outside when they are inside a building. These theatical aspects can be seen only as a gimmick, but it is von Trier's way to make the viewer focus on the story - but it works the other way around. Now everyone only talk about "the ridiculous sets" when Dogville is brought up. You could interpret it in many thematical ways, but I think von Trier primarily thought about it this way. 

Lars von Trier is one of the founders of the Dogme 95 movement, the members of which shoot their films on hand-held digital cameras. Von Trier's use of this camera is terribly shaky most of the time so there is really no change in editing no matter what kind of a scene is going on. This of course weakens the impact of the form and makes form itself a little more meaningless. There are also a few odd details about the cinematography when viewed under the context of the "paradox" I mentioned earlier. There are a few shots that are edited heavily by CGI and these shots really STAND out from the film. They seem to serve no obvious purpose and simply mess with the form even more. There is also one scene that is sped up: this is very silly even though it fits the scene somehow, but it stands out as a silly choice rather than a good one. Von Trier's editing is quite intensive and chaotic because he likes to play with continuity - not only in the form of jumpcuts. This approach to editing is actually fitting for the film - luckily.

The quality of acting in Dogville varies a lot. Kidman is fascinating as the lead actress; she really captures the frailty of her character. Paul Bettany also gives a brilliant portrayal of his character. The rest of the cast ranges from 'irritatingly forced' to 'at least satisfying'.

In overall, Dogville isnt even a decent film, but it has been criticized for completely wrong reasons. I would only recommend you to watch it if you are willing to waste 3 hours of your life for simple controversy - or if you're a Lars von Trier fan. Wait, is there a difference between the two?

Score: 4 out of 10