confusion of culture
MIDNIGHT BUS is being screened at The 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Wednesday, July 11 at 6 PM at the Walter Reade Theater. Director Masao Takeshita will attend the screening for a Q & A. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
Drawing instant intrigue for fans of director Hirokzau Kore-Eda, acclaimed director of numerous works showing understated and often obscure views of family dynamics; how would his mark be made on a genre-fied courtroom drama by way of a murder mystery? It may not seem like as drastic a mark as one might expect. But there is an understated feel to it, even as that crucial testimony is called for in a courtroom on the verge of a decision. There are also some deep moral and philosophical quandaries being dealt with, putting the film in good company with its festival peers (such as SCYTHIAN LAMB). The film is anchored by the very solid performances of Koji Yakusho, as an inscrutable suspect who hides myriad realities behind sad and searching eyes, and Masaharu Fukuyama as cocksure and morally flexible defense attorney, a character type of great familiarity. Fukuyama’s character stands to change the most, and does so engagingly as complications in his own family life bear impact on his dealing with the case. There is a very Kore-eda esque feel to gently chiding interactions between him and his father, which are a bit meandering and very natural. A solid drama with a bit of arthouse subtlety, which leaves plenty of mental matter to consider afterwards.
THE THIRD MURDER is being screened at The 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Saturday, June 30th, at 12:15 PM. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
An exquisitely filmed downer from Japan, which may be mistaken for a cautionary tale on the ways of today’s wayward youth. A few hints show this to be a scene set in the 90s, like the absence of cell phones and a reference to going to see a Flipper’s Guitar concert in Shibuya. But this drama about adolescents with experiences way beyond their age shares some common themes with other tragic Japanese tales of teenagers (including one in this year’s lineup, LIVERLEAF, which falls short of RIVER’S EDGE): classrooms run by the kids where teachers are all but absent, intense clique-forming and bullying of individuals, parents mostly in the dark about their children’s social lives. There are scenes of sexual aggressions, drug use, and violence that are quite difficult to bear. So too are the main figures’ impassiveness at all that takes place around them. Every so often ire is raised, mostly that of Haruna, the loosely connected group’s central figure (played by an always fascinating Fumi Nikaido whose languid expressions are easy to get lost in). They can be accused of being vapid characters, written to lack depth. But the film is interesting in its way of cataloguing their trials with an air of neutrality, holding back from casting judgment. It feels like we are viewing these situations from the teenaged protagonists’ untaught and in many ways damaged points of view. It is apparent that, as coolly as they may react, these trials are more than they are equipped to day deal with. Their lack of change begins to feel like a condition of being trapped in their roles, and this makes it possible to empathize. While its cataloging of brutality feels merciless, it is beholden of a strange beauty; definitely worth viewing.
RIVER’S EDGE is being screened at The 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Tuesday, July 3, at 9:15 PM at the Walter Reade Theater. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
This singular drama from Japan opens over a somber landscape in a quiet coastal town. It holds many provincial features, such as a festival meant to appease an evil spirit carried on year after year by an alarmingly superstitious populace, and a tendency for gossip. Tsukisue, a civil servant is sent to pick up 6 individuals and bring them into town. He is also charged with helping them integrate into their surroundings. Soon after, we learn that this is part of a social experiment; the new arrivals are inmates serving time for violent crimes, their sentences commuted so that they can be rehabilitated in a new environment. This sets the stage for a story rife with moral and philosophical conundrums, to be debated and explored.
While the unwitting official is left with responsibility over the lives of the ex-convicts (which proves to be a varied group), he also deals with relationship woes, magnified by the suffocating small town atmosphere. In all, he has quite a lot on his shoulders.
If the premise sounds as though it would make for a great mini-series, extended over several episodes, we are on the same page. In fact it is based on a manga, a format perfect for stories to sprawl outwards. And with all of the potential character interactions laid out, sprawl is exactly what the story should do. While off to a promising start, things begin to line up a little too conveniently. Characters take on developments or newfound interests that seem rather abrupt. It as though a linear conclusion is being raced toward, with all of those moral intricacies crumbling away to carve a path.
While the development of story does not satisfy through and through, there are aspects of it, in addition from its potential-laden premise, that are praiseworthy. Sound design, credited to Tatsuo Yamaguchi, is used to great effect. At times, electronic effects plod forebodingly. There is something akin to big drops of water falling into deep wells and causing ripples of foreboding that disrupt the calm. Then there are the jams forged by Tsukisue and his two friends, who reform a noise rock trio from their past to practice. (this would not be the first time that reliving or recalling one’s former band as a way to reconnect with the past surfaces as a theme in the festival) They forge propulsive sonic rumbles, something like a therapeutic cleansing of the air around them. While Scythian Lamb doesn’t hit the mark completely from beginning to end, it has enough going for it to make it interesting viewing.
THE SCYTHIAN LAMB is being screened at 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Thursday, July 5, at 9:15 PM at the Walter Reade Theater. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
Kazuya Shiraishi has been something of a ringer for the New York Asian Film Festival, churning out a steady, reliable stream of hardboiled hits every time one of his films is brought in. Starting with the dark peek into the working of a grizzly murder case in THE DEVIL’S PATH, followed up by the convoluted tale of a corrupt cop’s rise and undoing in TWISTED JUSTICE, and topped off last year with the more simmering NIGHT OF THE FELINES, a low-key entry into the Nikattsu Studio’s Roman Porn Reboot series. This time at bat, the director with a knack for true crime dramas takes a big swing, and connects with BLOOD OF WOLVES. Deserving of the term period piece, Shiraishi’s production manages to convincingly evokes an 80s Yakuza crime drama. While of a mostly different look and feel, I am reminded of the great South Korean crime drama NAMELESS GANGSTER (which played a past NYAFF) and how thoroughly that film embraced a time period. I also cannot help but draw parallels between that film’s Choi Min Sik, and similarly revered Koji Yakusho featured here as a detective in lates 80s Hiroshima, specializing in dealing with the Yakuza.
To picture Yakusho here in his role as Detective Ogami, think of his ‘wildman’ persona in KAWAKI. Switching effortlessly between seething quietly and recklessly lashing out, seemingly unable to be contained. The well-worn trope of the odd couple is played to the hilt, as he is paired with the straight-laced Hioka (Tori Matsuzaka, who shows a great deal of depth in his portrayal of inner conflict).
As warring Yakuza factions edge closer and closer toward an escalating gang war, a multilayered story of corruption also unfolds. Acts of violence go to some teeth-grinding uncomfortable lengths, and Shiraishi’s storytelling has a karmic sensibility.
Ogami describes his situation of oft-compromised morality as ‘walking a line,’ and the film seems to do so too, not tipping its hand as to which way is right – upholding ethics at all costs or using questionale tactics to get results. A selection in this year’s Tiger Uncaged jury competition, and one that could easily walk away with it for its unrelenting intensity.
BLOOD OF WOLVES is being screened at The 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Monday, July 2, at 9:15 PM. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
A most winning production that is destined to generate chatter in the audience, and I would think is a shoe-in for audience award (if the tradition of determining a crowd favorite is to be continued), ONE CUT OF THE DEAD can be taken as an impressive physical feat, a brilliant idea, and a triumph of the will. While not political in nature, it is a rousing testament to teamwork and undying spirit overcoming insurmountable tasks. It also shows that the process of creation can be a brilliant thing, greater than the creation itself. Slotted somewhere in the realm of zombie schlock, the biggest risk it runs is being overlooked by a broader audiences. Those who find it are in for a treat. Ueda Shinichiro‘s film serves as an elevation of the genre, without exuding an ounce of self-importance. The ability to play with time and sequence is used to great affect, but never feels like it is being boasted. Its fast-paced soundtrack is spirited and playful, as is the ‘just over-the-top enough to be humorous’ nature of its cast. Go out of your way to see this.
ONE CUT OF THE DEAD is being screened at the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival on Friday, July 13, 10:20 PM, at the SVA Theater. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
DYNAMITE GRAFFITI
Perhaps the best characterization of Sue Akira comes in a (non-crucial) scene late in the film where he is visiting the maker of a lifelike prosthetic sex doll. The purpose is one of placating the head of the small company, but puts Akira in a unique situation to explore the unknown; it also gets uncomfortably weird. And much of the life of the subject of this biopic seems to go like that; provoking, apologizing, and trying to satisfy the cravings of a seemingly insatiable curiosity.
Context is important. Picture a desolate mining town during wartime, where Sue Akira witnessed his parents’ relationship explode, figuratively and quite literally when his mother commits suicide with a man she engages in an affair, employing the titular destructive element, and then further decays. Akira later whisks himself off to Tokyo with hopes of succeeding as an artist, while an oppressive censorious regime and radical leftists waged war, and an underworld criminal element took hold of back alleys and red light districts with bars and brothels. We follow as the student tries to make a living by plying his trade in these dangerous environs, but later forges a career as a successful pornographic magazine publisher in the ‘80s.
It’s a curious choice for an opening night film, which the festival holds up as a representation of their own path, devoted to incorrigible mischief (and perhaps more than a little audience-provocation). And it is not always so dynamic; the film that is. The telling of Akira‘s early and late days move at a somewhat plodding pace. The middle, though, particularly in the furor of his activity with prurient materials, does achieve some vivid proportions. An anarchic feeling of the time is captured well, both sonically with avant garde soundscapes, and visually with plenty of iconic artwork on display. Much of it would appear to be genuine artifacts; covers and interior shots of the publications he worked on. Others being real or close approximations of psychedelic graphic design work of the time, bringing to mind such figures as Tadanori Yooko. There is also a brief but illuminating depiction of infamous photographer Nobuyoshi Araki (whose work is on display at the Museum of Sex, tying in nicely to this screening, and will be through the end of August).
And that was not a slip before, referring to these visuals as art. There is a definite artistic bent to Sue’s designs put forth, marking a strange intersection suggesting involvement with the pornographic industry was a way to get a foot in the door and find an outlet for his self expressive ideas.
While tied to the scene of radicalism and rebellion, Sue proved to forge a shrewed existence that let him dip into trouble but only just so. It makes for a somewhat less fantastic subject than one might expect. Unsurprisingly, he does a less than stellar job in the relationship department, yet he manages to walk away mostly unscathed by his lapses in fidelity. It can feel somewhat irksome, yet it is probably a very honest accounting (in fact the film is based on an essay by the subject himself. It mostly hangs together, except for one thread that follows his infatuation and subsequent disenchantment with a female employee, who later ends up suffering a debilitating mental ailment. Its depiction on screen is frustratingly lacking in point of view or any apparent reflection.
Drawing connections between shameful family experiences, and uninspiring atmosphere, with the gravitational pull of great metropolis like Tokyo, There is certainly insight to be taken about the rise of an artist/rabble rouser. There is plenty of amusing tawdriness to boot.
DYNAMITE GRAFITTI is the 2018 New York Asian Film Festival opening film, and will be screened with an appearance and Q & A by with director Tominaga Masanori and actor Emote Tasuku. Visit the NYAFF homepage for tickets and information.
On June 29th, The New York Asian Film Festival will return, reliably, to the Walter Reade Theater at Lincoln Center to thrill, dazzle, and vex adventurous movie-goers. Its unique cinematic offerings, are culled mostly from the realm this and the previous year’s theater releases of Asian countries being represented, along with a handful of premieres. One can look forward to 2 – 3 screenings each evening (more on the weekends) until things slide downtown to the SVA theater from the 13th – 15thfor a stacked conclusion.
Some things will be familiar to long-time attendees. An award for astounding action cinematography in the name of founding festival organizer Daniel Craft will once again be given, this time to Hong Kong cinema stalwart Dante Lam. As well as a lifetime achievement award to a veteran figure of Asian cinema, here being Japan’s Harada Masato, and a Rising Star award recognizing vibrant new talent.
Some recently launched innovations, such as a gallery exhibition, this year’s theme being “Safe Imagination is Boring” and a jury competition for best film, reserved for new directorial voices and now called the Tiger Uncaged Award, continue to take root. Ever changing, the festival will unveil some new features, such an HBO sponsored Free Talks series. Taking place at the Elinor Bunin Munroe Film Center’s Amphitheater, across the street from the Walter Reade, offering a chance for audiences to engage in lengthier dialogues with directors and performers in the movies being shown.
As for the films themselves, they again represent a significant range of countries both with film industries recognized globally, such as China, Hong Kong, Japan, and South Korea, and those with less (or somewhat less) worldwide exposure: Malaysia, Taiwan, Thailand. The Philippines has taken on a steadily stronger presence, and this year really has a foothold in the proceedings with the number and quality of films being shown, as well as guests on hand. Deeming this year it’s “Savage Seventeenth” and touting an unofficial slogan of “not (being) your average fucking festival, ” the mostly young crew is staying steadfast in bringing a challenging selection of films, downright confrontational at times, and often with something significant to say.
There is no way I could dream of taking it all in. So here I present a sampling of films I’ve been able to preview that made an impression. Numerous other films round out the fest, so be sure to visit the NYAFF homepage as you make your plan of attack.
DYNAMITE GRAFFITI (Japan, 2018) directed by Tominaga Masanori
BLOOD OF WOLVES (Japan, 2018) directed by Kazuya Shiraishi
ONE CUT OF THE DEAD (Japan, 2017) directed by Shinichiro Ueda
THE SCYTHIAN LAMB (Japan, 2017) directed by Daihachi Yoshida
THE THIRD MURDER (Japan, 2017) directed by Hirokazu Kore-eda
RIVER’S EDGE (Japan, 2018) directed by Isao Yukisada
MICROHABITAT (South Korea, 2017) directed by Jeon Go-woon
MIDNIGHT BUS (Japan, 2017) directed by Masao Takeshita
WRATH OF SILENCE (China, 2017) directed by Xin Yukun
LOOMING STORM (China, 2017) directed by Dong Yue
The idea of ‘Idol’ as it has come to be known in Japan is chameleon-like to those encountering it from outside Japan. Depending on who presented it, and when, it could mean anything from innocent agents of pop music and heavily choreographed dance routines to part of a more all-consuming movement that dictates the clothing its supporters wear as well as their behavior. Many outlets promoting Japanese culture abroad have presented features on Idols or advertised business that share the same cultural markers (Maid Cafes for instance, which also gained their foothold in Tokyo neighborhood Akihabara, have become a novelty in major US cities) in the same way that anime or J-pop is put forth as entertainment representing a Japanese identity. With TOKYO IDOLS, documentarian Kyoko Miyake takes a sober and evenhanded look at the recent phenomenon and how it is both affecting and fitting into Japan’s cultural landscape. Maintaining an objective stance behind the camera, her look at Idol culture is free of intimidating figures (save for one elucidating look at an Idol ‘election’ surrounding a collective at the culture’s forefront, AKB48) and charts or confrontational encounters with its subjects. It does not shy away from showing more insidious elements of its growth, however. The focus moves between aspiring Idols of different levels of notoriety (though, informative in its own right, none who have achieved mainstream success – were they reluctant to participate or perhaps even prohibited by talent agents?), their denizens, and analysts taken with the subject such as reporters and sociologists.
No bones are made about the awkwardness in seeing a dominantly adult male fan base rabidly following the activity of the young female personalities comprising this Idol scene. Scenes may inspire shock or a derisive sneer but Miyake gives voice to analysts who try to explain the phenomenon, critically, yet without ridicule. She also spends time with some of these followers, allowing them to speak for themselves. There are moments of sad self-awareness. Yet the humanity of the subjects is always there in the picture.
While there is much to be cynical about the industrious Idol machine given voice here, like the way it narrowly shapes the ideals of its young female hopefuls or the unrealistic notion of relationships it allows its consumers to remain bound to, it is not without hope. The star of the movie is certainly the plucky self-managing Idol hopeful Rio, whom we see working independent gigs with support from her daydreaming former rock musician father and more grounded mother. Her wit and determination is that of an individual who studies the game and is determined to win it on her own terms. We cannot help but cheer her on.
TOKYO IDOLS is being shown as part of the Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film at The Japan Society on Friday, July 14 at 6:30 pm. Click here for more information and to buy tickets.
Tokyo has been mythologized in varied ways from without – a city of electrified neon excess, of constant movement, of individuals toiling tirelessly, head down minding their own business as they move between work and home. THE TOKYO NIGHT SKY IS ALWAYS THE DENSEST SHADE OF BLUE captures some of these notions, but it is a refreshingly homegrown perspective from which the city ‘s character is eschewed.
It also weaves the tale of two individuals with strident characteristics whom circumstance would push toward one other in something like a romantic entanglement. Mika (Shizuka Ishibashi) works as a nurse, as well as part time at a hostess bar, and holds a dour outlook on life, which seems to be informed by her upbringing. She is a mainly solitary figure whose point of view we often learn via internal monologues. Otherwise, her conversations often veer toward the subject of death. Shinji (Sosuke Ikematsu) works in construction. He is jovial toward his peers and, with vision out of one eye impaired, seems afflicted with a form of autism. His conversation is stilted and then comes tumbling out, often harping on a point passionately though it may be of little concern to his peers. The pair’s quirks make the forging of a new relationship a challenge, not to mention daily life in Tokyo particularly burdensome. Yet unlike in other tales of individuals struggling against the grain, Ishii’s rendering suggests that Mika and Shinji do in fact do a good job of blending in. They do not make a scene, save for Shinji’s stream of conscious utterances that occasionally stir the ire of the more alpha male type among his construction site colleagues, and if not for our look at their inner thoughts, they seem adept at getting by and sustaining themselves in Tokyo’s disinterested landscape. Yet this does not mean happiness figures into the equation of adapting to the codes of being young and alone there. It lends to the suggestion of some woeful realities facing a young generation of workers in this major city. The pair’s push and pull toward each other navigates a path that speaks volumes on the preoccupations of a generation: grim worldwide statistics being the click of a smartphone button away, while death is an entity forever looming near that can strike at any moment.
Yuya Ishii, the director whose previous film was the meticulously told The Great Passage, unspools his latest feature with nearly as much patience, though in a far more cryptic nature, standing in firm defiance of the notion that for a story to be powerful, things must constantly be happening. No doubt owing to its source material, a collection of poems by young Kobe-based writer Tahi Saihate. Some characters we meet make the briefest of impressions, a young man for instance, quietly enduring the noise from a party held next door by one of Shiji’s colleagues from the Philippines. At times ponderings take the form of roughly drawn animated sequences.
It is not so much a drudgery as it is a piercing sense of isolation among throngs of people passing through. Yet a quiet beauty occasionally bleeds through, colored by washes of that titular shade of blue. Along with these swatches of color, music imbues plain scenes with a magical aura as Ishii switches between a handful of mood-setting scores. There is also a cleverly inserted catchy mantra played by a street performer, at times supporting a cynical outlook but also lending itself to moments that suggest hope for the protagonists. And Mirraz’s ‘New World’ is an unusually well-suited end credit song, with the 100 words per minute vocals matching Shinji‘s the protagonists’ verbal jousts.
Ishibashi and Ikematsu’s portrayal of Mika and Shinji, respectively, are nuanced and compelling. Relative newcomer Ishibashi thoroughly and completely channels Mika’s resolute independence. It is a particular pleasure to see the hardworking Ikematsu, who can be seen in numerous Japanese films playing cool customer and problem solver archetypes, here embodying Shinji’s fragile psyche.
For those who have fallen under the spell of a particular magic created by Asian films telling the story of loners drawn together – Last Life In The Universe, On The Castaways On The Moon come instantly to mind – not to mention the stylized portrayal of Tokyo found in Lost In Translation, THE TOKYO NIGHT SKY IS ALWAYS THE DENSEST SHADE OF BLUE is essential viewing.
THE TOKYO NIGHT SKY IS ALWAYS THE DENSEST SHADE OF BLUE is being shown as part of the Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film at The Japan Society on Friday, July 14 at 8:30 pm. Click here for more information and to buy tickets.
mondocurry 