Figyua na Anata / フィギュアなあなた

Director Takashi Ishii’s always had a misanthropic streak, but in Figyua na anata, he lets it fly with his critique of otaku (let’s just say Japanese male) culture. In this tale, freshly fired Kentaro (Tasuku Emoto) drunkenly disses a bull dyke and her girlfriend. In his escape he stumbles upon a pair of cocaine-dealing thugs and their necromantic boss – plus a pile of mannequins that include a somewhat alive one (Kokone Sasaki) resembling a “sexy” otaku figurine. She saves him from a grisly fate. The first half rolls out with low-budget grindhouse urgency going through tons of blood, sex, rape and other unpleasantries. It’s engaging, if disquieting. Ishii is a solid filmmaker with a baroque flair. But when Kentaro bring his mannequin prize home, the Figyua na anata takes on different twist. He obsesses on her vagina. He rapes her. He goes through a series of otaku fantasies. What’s real? What’s not? Ishii keeps the viewer on tenterhooks until his last cynical image and the song Love Me Tender ends the adventure.

Originally published in EL Magazine, June 2013

A Pale Woman / Sohakusha A Pale Woman / 蒼白者 A Pale Woman

When Shu (Shugo Oshinari), the sensitive pianist was introduced as the old love interest of our heroine, Kim (Kim Kkobbi), I though that A Pale Woman would begin to drift off somewhere into the territory of Shoot the Piano Player or maybe Le Samourai. No such luck. The film drifted off somewhere… and kept drifting and drifting. Ill conceived, poorly shot, and generally mismanaged on all fronts, director Takuaki Tsunemoto’s attempt at contemporary noir pretty much fails on all levels. The byzantine plot revolves around Kim, a 20-something woman, who returns to Japan after years living in Korea to reunite with old love, Shu. Since she’s been gone there’s been a lot of unsavory things been going on in the dark underbelly of Osaka that all comes spewing up upon her return. Between the almost southern gothic family relationships, criminal goings-on, bad acting, an insane plot that twists and turns for no apparent reason, and other indescribable acts, Tsunemoto’s vision flounders in a churning mess of a movie. Should of stayed in Korea, Kim.

Originally published in EL Magazine, June 2013.

Senkyo 2 / 選挙2

Kazuhiro Soda hit the documentary scene strong in 2007 with Campaign, a film that followed unwitting and inexperienced political candidate, Kazuhiko “Yama-san” Yamauchi, on the campaign trail in Kawasaki. Soda’s observational fly-on-the-wall style allowed everybody involved to lay bare the hypocrisy and banality of Japanese politics. Yamuchi went on the campaign trail again and Soda was ready to catch it on video again. Since his first outing with Yamauchi, Soda’s become his buddy – and a bit of a partner in crime. Not much new ground is tread in Campaign 2, though there are several deliciously funny scenes with Yamuchi going on his rounds and of his many competitors standing outside of stations, mouthing platitudes on their bullhorns. What is different is Soda, still behind the camera, becomes more of an active participant and catalyst in several scenes. But it’s Yamauchi’s pint-sized son who steals the show. With his antics and childish desires he makes the ultimate comment on the silliness of the campaign season, largely by ignoring it. I’m looking forward to Yamauchi’s next run.

Originally published in EL Magazine, June 2013.

Hajimari no Michi / Kinoshita Keisuke Story / はじまりのみち

In the centennial of his birth, director Keisuke Kinoshita’s legacy is being promoted and marketed without much thought to how his films have aged (not all that well). Kinoshita was a solid hack in his heyday (late 40s – 60s), producing quality product that now serve more as cultural windows rather than great films. Even his “masterpiece,” The Ballad of Naramaya is much better in Imamura’s 1983 remake – though credit must be given to Kinuyo Tanaka’s amazing performance in the original.  Hajimari no michi follows a crisis point in Kinoshita’s life, when returning from the war, he questioned whether he should continue as a film director. True or not, it makes for an interesting premise. The fiction pulls images and situations liberally from Kinoshita’s films as Kinoshita (Ryo Kase) treks across the Japanese landscape carrying his ill mother (Yuko Tanaka). Director Keiichi Hara plays up the sentimentality and the facile and triumphant heroism of the tale, not at all unlike Kinoshita’s own movies. Hara’s made a fitting homage – a little dull and sentimental with quality production values.

Originally published in EL Magazine, June 2013.

Taidachi no shimauta / 旅立ちの島唄 十五の春

Taidachi no shimauta reaches an apotheosis of sentimentality, though not in an entirely undeserved way, following the coming of age of 15 year-old Yuna (Ayaka Miyoshi). Set on the Okinawan island of Minamidaito, a place that can’t support a high school, the film follows a year in Yuna’s life before she must leave to attend high school on a different island. Director Yasuhiro Yoshida’s not much of film stylist, nor that great a screenwriter, but overcomes these deficiencies with compassion for his characters – carefully choosing types and faces – and with his feeling for rituals of island life, from the mundane to the celebratory. There’s no high drama in Taidachi no shimauta. But there’s an inevitability that Yoshida acknowledges and lauds. And then there’s the music that young Yuna performs, binding her to community and family, split by logistics, but still maintaining. Yoshida’s cultural window on a small and insignificant community provides a deeper and more touching portrait of how people continue to survive and thrive in these times than most similarly themed stories.

Originally published in EL Magazine, May 2013

The War and a Woman / Senso to Hitori no Onna / 戦争と一人の女

Koji Wakamatsu acolytes, Junichi Inoue and Haruhiko Arai, respectively director and screenwriter of Senso to Hitori no Onna, show how far the apples have fallen from the tree of the pinku political pioneer. Set at the end of World War II, the film follows two stories, one of world-weary lovers – dissipated writer Nomura (Masatoshi Nagase) and bartender/prostitute (Noriko Eguchi)  – who shack up together and decide to fuck until the war ends and another of a shell-shocked war veteran, Ohira (Jun Murakami), who becomes a serial rapist. The twin stories, ripped from the headlines, ultimately intersect in an unholy and clichéd union. Not a moment of screen time is wasted in portraying tired stereotypes and situations, ultimately telegraphing the fateful meeting of Noriko and Ohiru (note: she likes her sex rough and thus gets off on being raped). Worse, she comes to an emotional catharsis in a fit of vomiting. The casual sexism that pervades much of contemporary Japanese filmmaking gets fully exercised in this execrable piece of crap masquerading as edgy cinema.

Originally published in EL Magazine, May 2013

Cold Bloom / Sakura Namiki no Mankai no Shita / 桜並木の満開の下に

There’s a certain point in Atsushi Funahashi’s ridiculously scripted drama of working class lives, Cold Bloom, where the viewer’s suspension of disbelief finally collapses and it all crashes. It could be with the initial plot driver. Kenji (Takahashi Yo), husband of and co-worker with Shiori (Usuda Asami) comes to his demise on the factory floor, crushed by mis-stacked oil drums. With her happy life in tatters, Shiori now has to deal with fellow worker. Mori (Miura Takahiro), whose negligence caused the accident, never misses an opportunity to apologize. It could be with the mounting economic demise of the factory, colored with some vague notions of the effects of 3.11. Or it could be with the bigoted bully, Shigeru (Miura Riki), whose violent antics in any real-world situation would land him in jail – but somehow he keeps his job. But not only is the plot full of holes, so is Funihashi’s cheesy direction. He never misses an opportunity for the ensemble to pose meaningfully or for an actor to chew a scene until it’s mush.

Originally published in EL Magazine, April 2013