The Naked Island

Essentially Kaneto Shindo's The Naked Island (1960) is a simple film. It depicts the hardships of a family living on a small and isolated island. The parents spend their daily routine maintaining their crops and the most time-consuming task for them is to fetch water from a long distance twice a day. They have two boys: one of them goes to school and the younger one spends his days on the island.

At first the film introduces us to the family's daily routine and despite its simplicity Shindo manages to make it very fascinating. In a single brilliant scene (with a magnificent, long buildup) he establishes the family dynamics. The film moves onto show how the family manages to survive through each season until the first "traditional" conflict is introduced in the final third of the film. Even then the film is more like a slice of life of the family's life instead of a dramatic narrative we so often see in other films.

What is so brilliant about the film's approach is the silence Shindo employs. Not a word is spoken apart from short bits of singing and chanting. Music is occasionally inserted, but even that is used rather subtly so that most of the film's power relies on the writing and the visuals. And these two aspects are worthy even on their own. Even though the film gives a rather stereotypical image of the Japanese (who dislike the image) it's a very striking and tragic portrayal of the problems of social change and isolation, among others.

Shindo's cinematography is mostly static or at least the movement is so smooth and controlled that the viewer hardly notices it. It gives the daily routine a fitting rhythm and emphasizes the cyclical life of the family. Although the pacing of the editing is rather fast it doesn't feel like the film rushes towards the ending. Shindo likes to intercut between multiple motions and creates rather fascinating scenes out of simple moments (like rowing).

The film is not without an arguable flaw. The blandness of the characters is probably intentional, but it decreases the impact of the film's ending a bit too much. Luckily the tragedy is still intact.

Score: 9 out of 10

The Hole

(image source)

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 Shining

The Shining (1980) is Stanley Kubrick's legendary cinematic adaptation of Stephen King's horror classic. As a family takes care of an isolated hotel while it is closed in the winter, the father (Jack Nicholson as Jack Torrance) gradually becomes insane. As usual, Kubrick's adaptation is harsh and vastly different from the original novel, but in my opinion he only changed it for the better. The buildup is gracious and mind-boggling - and the climax perfectly explodes all the tension the film has gathered up to the point.

Kubrick's inventive camerawork is fascinating: the Steadicam shots build a powerful atmosphere for the film. The long takes and beautiful compositions are also up to Kubrick's high standards: the film is visually awe-inspiring.

Kubrick's The Shining is one of the landmarks of horror in cinema: it delivers on all fronts.

Score: 10 out of 10

Woman in the Dunes

Watching Hiroshi Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes (1964) was a stunning experience. In the movie, an etymologist is searching for insects in the desert only to be eventually trapped in a sandpit with a widow. He is forced to live down there and shovel sand. Even though the premise sounds simple, the film is utterly complex, engaging and, most of all, haunting. It is one of the most famous films of the Japanese New Wave - a cinematic movement I'm extremely interested in.

What I love the most about the film is its rich content. The story can be seen an allegory of a lot of things, but even the allegorical subtleties are a bit meaningless in the end because the film is a stunning portrayal of isolation and existential crisis. Sand's role changes in the film a few times, but its metaphorical power never fades away - it is also probably the finest cinematic depiction of sand in general. The characters are also extremely fascinating: intially they seem rather blank, but the hidden complexity is revealed bit by bit.

The film's claustrophobic and intimate form is haunting and unforgettable. Initially, the shots of the beautiful scenery left me in awe, but as the plot thickens the form becomes very close to the characters - even to the point of extreme close-ups of sand on their skin. The cinematography is simply perfect in its movement and framing. The use of sound is brilliant: after I had watched the film, I left the DVD menu on because I wanted to hear the wind blowing - the effect I had listened to for 140 minutes. The sound design has such a hypnotizing and gripping feeling to it. Toru Takemitsu's awesome musical score blends in with the sound effects brilliantly.

Hiroshi Teshigahara's Woman in the Dunes is one of the finest films I've ever seen and I believe it is even more rewarding on multiple views.

Score: 10 out of 10