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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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

The Searchers

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John Ford's The Searchers (1956) is considered one of the most important (and best) films of the western genre. After seeing it for the first time, I agree completely. It is the culmination of the genre tropes and a stunning experience. John Wayne plays Ethan Edwards, a man whose brother and sister-in-law are killed and their children kidnapped by the Comanche. The film's title, The Searchers, refers to his and a young man's (a relative of the family) search for the two daughters who are held by the Indians.

First of all, the characters are so wonderfully flawed and thoroughly developed. It is unbelieveable how Ford creates such a huge cast of colorful characters, all of whom are fascinating and well written. The narrative flows smoothly throughout the film even though it covers a very long period of time. By the end of the film so much has happened that you almost feel like you're a member of the society.

Ford's cinematography is absolutely stunning. The compositions and colors took my breath away on so many occasions that I can't count them with my hands. The film's editing might not be ambitious, but it is brilliant in its precise execution that helps the storytelling a lot. The song used at the beginning and end of the film, Tex Ritter's Searchers, is unforgettable. When the song kicks in at the end of the film and John Wayne is seen walking away in the door frame, my heart melted. It's such a poignant yet simple ending (that revisits an important composition as well) that it's hard not to like it.

The Searchers is a magnificent achievement and certainly makes me more eager to see Ford's other films.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Bad Sleep Well

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Akira Kurosawa's The Bad Sleep Well (1960) is usually regarded as a lesser effort in comparison to the director's other films. I would like to say that this is a shame because The Bad Sleep Well is yet another magnificent masterpiece from the Japanese auteur - a film that deserves praise as much as his other masterpieces. Here's a plot synopsis as simply put as possible: a young man attempts to take revenge for his father's murder committed by corrupt industrialists.

The film opens with a wedding scene that is not only one of the greatest scenes Kurosawa has made, but also one of the greatest openings for a film I've ever seen. The introduction of characters (and there are a LOT of them) and the plot exposition are so wonderfully handled in such a short time that I was totally flabbergasted. While the narrative isn't as dense during the rest of the film, The Bad Sleep Well is still a masterpiece of storytelling.  The characters are deep and intriguing throughout the film: the layers of Mifune's Nishi are gradually revealed throughout the film in a stunning way, and Mori's Iwabuchi is one of the greatest villains Kurosawa has ever created.

Kurosawa's form is very intense through powerful imagery (e.g. Nishi's and Yoshiko's meeting in the hideout), masterful camera movement and precise editing. The musical score succeeds in being very haunting and dramatic at the same time. Every member of the cast gives a wonderful performance, especially Toshiro Mifune and Masayuki Mori.

Kurosawa's The Bad Sleep Well is another example of Kurosawa's great contemporary dramas which should be seen by everyone.

Score: 10 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