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

Goodbye South, Goodbye

There is an easy way to describe Hsiao-hsien Hou's Goodbye South, Goodbye (1996) in a nutshell: it's the Taiwanese Mean Streets combined with Hou's (relatively) calmer form. It follows the struggles of Taiwanese gangsters as they simply try to make a living. If you dig deeper, you could say (as a reviewer on IMDB put it) the film is about "Taiwan's lost generation". The reckless and (nearly) aimless lives of the two main characters are not necessarily involving for the audience, but that doesn't mean the film fails or that it would be boring - because that's the way it was intended.

Even though Hou's form still features long takes and calm pacing, it's clearly a continuation to what he started with Good Men, Good Women. The camera is not static anymore: there's a lot of camera movement, but most of it is so smooth and calm that you don't even notice it at first. Hou captures the energy and mood of the screenplay in a clever way while still maintaining a distance to the characters - especially during the important plot moments. Hou has used music in his earlier films, but this time it's really intrusive (an aggressive rock track) - in a good way, though.

Even though Goodbye South, Goodbye works well in all aspects, it's a lesser effort from the director. It almost seems as if he played safe after using this new "more improvised" form for the first time.

Score: 8 out of 10

Breathless

The French New Wave is probably the most famous cinematic movement of all time. I'm ashamed to admit that my knowledge of the movement is far from sufficient and right now I'm trying to fix that. Along with Francois Truffaut's The 400 Blows (1959), Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless (1960) is the most important and popular film of the entire movement. Initially the film seems like a thriller or a gangster film because a murder sets the story into motion. However, it becomes something totally different - and something so much more satisfying and fascinating - after a while.

The story is hard to get a grasp of. It is the "spontaneity" that makes the film as great as it is. There is no clear rising and falling action in the film apart from a few moments, which makes it more "anti-cinematic". There is a natural tone in the dialogue - partly because the actors didn't know the lines beforehand and partly because the dialogue doesn't drive the plot forward most of the time. Despite this incoherency the film manages to deliver us with something tangible that will linger on our minds for some time after we have seen the film.

Godard's form is even more bewildering and energetic than the content of the film. The camera moves in erratic ways and the editing is even wilder - you can figure that out when you know that this film created the jump cutting technique.

It was a weird experience to write this review: initially I thought I would give this film a 9, but the more I think and write about it, the more I love it. I ended up appreciating it even more after I wrote this review. This film is rightfully praised and popular. Go watch it. Now.

Score: 10 out of 10

Love & Pop

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

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

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

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

Score: 10 out of 10

Crazed Fruit

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

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

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

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

Score: 4 out of 10

Rebels of the Neon God

(image source)

Tsai Ming-liang's Rebels of the Neon God (1992) is nothing like the director's other films. There are only two trademarks that can be noticed in his second first film: casting Lee Kang-sheng (and his family) and the metaphoric use of water. The movie portrays Hsiao-Kang's days as a teenager while he faces feelings of alienation and frustration. Tsai also focuses on a rather separate storyline which involes two hoodlums chasing a beautiful girl. While Hsiao-Kang often observes these characters, there is hardly any interaction between the two storylines.

I've read that the film is the perfect depiction of Taiwan at the end of the 80's and the beginning of 90's so I guess that counts as a pro. It examines somewhat decently the dislocation the adolescents feel in the harsh environment. I have to admit it was a bit problematic for me to watch the film because I expected yet another story focused completely on Hsiao-Kang, but the other storyline was even more central than HK's storyline. It was confusing for a while, but it was fitting when I started to think about its relevance for the themes.

Tsai's form is almost completely the opposite when compared to his later films. There are almost no long takes so his editing patterns are largely different. The camera is moving most of the time which gives the film more energy - which is fitting when you realise the film is about the reckless youth. I'm not sure if it was a conscious decision or if Tsai hadn't simply figured out his own unique style yet. Tsai also used music quite a lot - and none of it was old Mandarin pop. The compositions weren't so precise either - there were a few exceptions though.

In overall, Rebels of the Neon God is a bit uneven although it is not a bad effort at all. In fact, Tsai shows hints of his brilliance already at this point, but he doesn't succeed in creating a masterpiece: his form is lacking and the content doesn't feel focused enough.

Score: 7 out of 10

Love Exposure

At first, I'm going to warn you about this review: it's not probably going to be coherent because it's more like a recollection of my viewing experience than a good review. I apologise in advance for the possible inconvenience caused by the review.

Sion Sono's Love Exposure (2008) is a long film. Its length is around 4 hours. Describing the film is nigh-impossible because it touches on so many things and one could say it has "too much of everything". Yet, it works flawlessly. Love. Religion. Family. School. Society. Delusion. Obsession. Perversion. Crossdressing. Sexuality.

During the first 10 minutes, the film provides us with 3 major characters (not the only major characters though) in a dense introduction. After that, all hell breaks loose already. Try to imagine the most wonderful and funniest farce you've ever seen. For me, that was Visitor Q's last 15 minutes. Love Exposure is even funnier than that - for the first hour and a half. It is so tongue-in-cheek about everything. The plot becomes quite complicated - although completely comprehensible all the time - and I have to admit I have never ever laughed as much as I did during the farcical period.

After laughing very, very hard I did not expect what was coming. I was trolled really hard as the film became serious yet it still retained its cartoonish tone at the same time. For a moment, I was utterly lost and felt disappointed, but then I realised how Sono had trolled me completely. Before I got used to the change of tone, I was completely mindfucked by the film. The flick was so intense that it grabbed me from my balls and just kept throwing me around for ages. That was the point when I realised how the film had me think and attacked my world view in a way only Neon Genesis Evangelion had done to me.

After the initial reaction to the mindfuck, things became a bit smoother for a while - until the film made me weep. The utter sadness was only interrupted by one laugh-out-loud moment, but the ending really tied it all together somehow. While the film was very depressive most of the time - or at least seemed so under its playful mood - the ending was extremely uplifting. The cathartic impact is undeniable for the film is life-affirming beyond comprehension.

While it is possible to doubt its content by looking at its narrative which seems unnecessarily complex, it would be simply dumb to criticize the film for that. It never failed to impress me despite its possible weaknesses and the power of its complicated structure is harrowing. Sono's editing is quite frantic most of the time, but it is never distracting. It builds up more and more tension as the film goes on - and releases in a few glorious moments. And when it does calm down for a moment, it is even more intensive. In those moments Sono leaves the film on the shoulders of the actors - and it is even more powerful that way.

Speaking of acting, the performances are pitch-perfect in the film. How is it possible to have 3 perfect tour de force performances in one film? Especially Hikari Mitsushima's performance as Yoko is haunting and magnificent.

The soundtrack for the film is baffling. It ranges from classical Western music to J-Pop. Sono's use of Ravel's Bolero is heart-rending and unforgettable.

How is it even possible to craft such a solid and perfect entirety out of such bizarre and diverse elements? Love Exposure has proved me cinema can go further than I believe. Now I'm afraid I might not like it as much when I rewatch it, but I'll leave that for later.

Score: 10 out of 10

The Boys from Fengkuei

I've been interested in Hou Hsiao-hsien, the Taiwanese auteur, for quite a while. I saw his City of Sadness (1989) a few months ago and fell in love with it - I'm going to rewatch it soon. In any case, I wanted to get more familiar with his filmography and started with The Boys from Fengkuei (1983). Initially, the film is about a group of reckless youngsters who spend their days by drinking and fighting in a small town called Fengkuei. After a while, three of these guys decide to go to a bigger city to look for work. Gradually the film becomes the story of Ah-ching (one of the three) who has to face the problems the cruel reality brings up.

The film is a nice take on nostalgia and coming to terms with life. While it's not vastly insightful in its content, it is satisfying enough on its own. The film's beginning and ending are amazing and should be appreciated - the development of the characters becomes extremely obvious when the two are compared.

The form isnt very "Houesque" yet, but there are a few of his trademarks visible already. For one, he likes to revisit older compositions on a few occasions although it doesnt have an impact as big as, say, the hospital composition in his City of Sadness. The takes arent nearly as long as in his other films, and the framing is a bit rough. The erratic camera movement is a bit distracting at times, but luckily it isnt too bad in general. The weirdest aspect in the form was the musical score: Hou uses well-known Western classical music which either works somehow or not at all. For example, his use of Vivaldi's Winter was rather random and that piece of music always reminds of Oldboy, which didnt help at all.

In overall, The Boys from Fengkuei is a decent, likable film which suffers from notable flaws. It is a must-see for Hou fans.

Score: 6 out of 10