The Girl Who Picks Flowers and the Girl Who Kills Insects (2000)

When I first heard of Hitoshi Yazaki, I, as usual, perused his filmography on iMDb. I think it was Strawberry Shortcakes that was the first film of his I had seen, then March Comes in Like a Lion (aka flat-out masterpiece), and later, Sweet Little Lies.

The one elusive feature that seemed to stray away from me was the one that had the longest running time, The Girl Who Picks Flowers and the Girl Who Kills Insects, a feature of roughly four hours.

It wasn't until yesterday that I once again thought about this film. It's still on my list of must-see's from 90s/2000s J-cinema masters, including Makoto Shinozaki's Okaeri, Kaizo Hayashi's Circus Boys, and Naomi Kawase's Hotaru. All four have completely eluded attempts to locate them, despite what seems to be some rare VHS copies in the University of California System.

After being reminded of it yet again, I decided to dig up some information, if possible, on this very long Yazaki film. Searching the film's title in kanji, and then using Google Translate to decipher whatever info was written, proved fruitful indeed.

According to one website, the picture is about a group of people whose lives intersect around a ballet school in London. Two of them love a central character, a dancer, and there is also a Japanese visitor, as well as a black Londoner, in this tale that turns out to be a love triangle, or parallelogram of sorts.

That was about as much as I could decipher from the machine translation, but it was enough to keep me going. Other websites claimed that it was screened once at Keio University, with the director present. I'm also aware that the Japan Society had Yazaki present at a screening of Sweet Little Lies once, during which he wore his trademark shades and hat (this video is available on YouTube).

The other film by the director that is difficult to locate is Afternoon Breezes, but I have a hunch there is a copy floating around somewhere. Independent films from Japan are particularly hard to find because like America, there is hardly any distribution channels for them. The studios there are more interested in spewing out these below par manga adaptations that seem to be flooding the film radar, instead of taking a shot on unofficial talent

Experience also tells me that longer films tend to be better. This isn't always the case, but I have certainly found that films exceeding the 3-hour mark have the time, and therefore the ability, to get into all those details of character that I find interesting. One reviewer referenced it to The Mother and the Whore, but in running time and pacing only. There are a few films, of course, that manage to get into such depths as the ones that take their time, but I've only found this with the most precise and sparing of directors. Rohmer and Bresson come to mind as an example.

Regardless if this will ever turn up or not, I'd like to think it should something of an important film, maybe even a gem, because Yazaki is very talented. In one translation, a person likened something to "the masterpiece . . . " and referred to Flowers/Insects, so it leaves me hopeful.

I also feel that in putting info out there, or at least trying to dig up info, on films that haven't yet come to the English-speaking world, will help them to do so. After writing about how much I wanted to see them, several of Jissoji's Art Theatre Guild features became available online, with subtitles, no doubt. So in short, I think I'm helping.

Hana-bi (Takeshi Kitano, 1997)

It took some time for me to catch up with Takeshi Kitano. For the past five years now, I've been an avid fan of Japanese cinema. The first works which grasped me were the radical visions of the Japanese New Wave, the most inventive directors of which were Shuji Terayama, Susumu Hani, and Yoshishige Yoshida. It was these works which planted my feet in that country's cinema and culture. Like most Americans, I had been first exposed to Japan through their electronic exports, mostly in the form of Sony and Nintendo products. Then the early 2000's came, and a flood of new anime and manga titles came with it. Though I had been familiar with anime from some of the Saturday morning releases on the Sci-Fi Channel, which introduced me Akira.

So here come the 1990's. At first glance, there seems to be little from the 90's in Japan to be desired from, at least cinematically speaking. Even for a hunter like me, I cannot come up with a bevy of works to boast the strength of the 90's. While the work then was strong, it was not the steady torrent of mind-bogglingly good features from the 60's which seemed to end as the Art Theatre Guild caught on commercially and studio directors like Kaneto Shindo and Yasuzo Masumura were invited to produce features for it (Kokoro and Ongaku). Of the 90's pictures I have seen, the ones which immediately stand out are Hitoshi Yazaki's March Comes in Like a Lion, Ryu Murakami's Tokyo Decadence, Kohei Oguri's The Sting of Death, and of course, Hirokazu Koreeda's Maboroshi no hikari. These are all spaced about three or four years amongst each other, so it seems as if the early 90's had something of a force behind it. And while I do count Shunji Iwai as a favorite, his film Swallowtail Butterfly, the favorite of mine, did not leave as much of a strong impression upon me as the ones mentioned above.

And now comes Kitano. With this background in J-film (excepting the pre-war, 30's films, which I'm not well familiar with), I may have had something of a bias against Kitano, who I knew frequently delved into the world of yakuza, and held immense popularity in his country. The yakuza aspect must have inferred that he used violence as a cheap thrill, which had been a firm no-no in my book. And being American, and having to suffer under Hollywood, I was always suspicious of a filmmaker who seemed to get too much critical and popular praise.

Well, now here comes Hana-bi. It was a great film, of course, and shattered all my prejudices. Like Violent Cop, which Hana-bi is something of a reworking of, it is a meditation on the effects of violence. My biggest problem with some filmmakers, and this especially goes to Sam Peckinpah, is the lenient handling of violence, often to a titillating, near pornographic effect. This is the great flaw of Hollywood as well. No maturity in handling life-altering actions.

I recall something Alfred Hitchcock said in an interview, that if you filmed a man walking down the street, and ahead of him was an open manhole pit, that if you showed him fall into the sewer, and cut to the next scene, then it would be funny. But if you showed him fall, then cut to him inside the pit, screaming in pain with a broken leg, then it would not be funny. So the director's attitude can be surmised from what details he is willing to omit.

The whole course of Hana-bi follows the suffering of a few people after a random violent act. When a stakeout goes wrong, Horibe (Ren Osugi) is paralyzed from the waist down, and Nishi (Takeshi Kitano) quits the force. The two go their separate ways, Horibe taking up pointillist illustrations from his wheelchair (as Kitano did three years prior when he was in a motorcycle accident), while Nishi takes care of his sickly wife, Miyuki (Kayoko Kishimoto), and deals with his creditors, who happen to be yakuza. The two men try hard to rebuild their fractured state of their affairs, and only time will tell if these new lives of peace are salvageable.

The thing that elevates the picture above that of Kitano's previous six are a resolution, maybe a compromise, of two driving forces within his cinema. One, is clearly the legacy, the emotional baggage and societal engineering that growing up in poverty in Japan must have placed on him. This manifests itself as hyper-masculinity, violence, aloofness, and anti-social behavior (like the youths in Kids Return). This burden has been transformed by Kitano into the cold, stone-faced policemen and yakuza characters that we see in his oeuvre. And because he has been able to master it, to fictionalize it, it has become a tool of the artist.

The second current is the inner, Kitano's artistic sensibility and his sensitive nature, also an influence of the Japanese culture, but here being the calming effect of its arts heritage. This operates in his narrative work as a close attention to detail and an acute eye for composition. This impulse came fully realized in his first film, Violent Cop, as it was a strangely lyrical yakuza shoot-em-up piece.

Some critics have said that Japan constantly struggles between these two poles, the militaristic impulse, the masculine, and the love of nature and beauty, the arts, the feminine. The former drove it to war against the Allied Powers, and the latter is responsible for world-famous representations like The Tale of Genji and woodblock paintings. It was the first impulse, which unfortunately, drove Yukio Mishima to suicide, unable to cast away or master that burden.

Kitano, however, is under full control of it. On the opposite end of the spectrum, you have an artist who he admires, like Nobuyoshi Araki, who has completely thrown himself into the feminine artistic current and produced the beautiful, erotic, sometimes death-like photographs that he is known for. A man like Araki, to his credit, holds no guilt whatsoever, and this explains his rambunctious, charming, dirty-old man personality. Yet, unfortunately, this persona cannot operate within society the way Kitano has to. Araki does not hold the rational impulse that is expected of men, and especially of film directors, being stewards of millions of dollars of financiers' investments. And while I once strayed away from Takeshi because of his popularity, I now realize that part of it is dependent upon the burden which he has consciously chose to uphold, working in the commercial industry, something of a proper face that he must have to parrot around for the moneyed class.

Araki, I think, can more devote himself to his artistic pursuits, as he is usually just dependent upon models, lighting technicians, and costume/makeup girls, and not a studio infrastructure. In an interview about Araki in Travis Klose's Arakimentari, Kitano said something to the effect of this, "My art is painful, while he just seems to be having fun."

-mmxii

Bedtime Eyes ベッドタイムアイズ (1987) / directed by Tatsumi Kumashiro

A few covers and screengrabs from the 80's adaption of Amy Yamada's controversial first novel, Bedtime Eyes, which I'm reading at the moment. It features a trio of mismatched relationships between black men (mostly G.I.'s) and Japanese women. The men tend to be simplified and infantile, but the women love them still the same. It's very racy content, so it makes sense that Kumashiro would be asked to direct. Also, I had the chance to view his Twisted Path of Love today, and love the way he employs a handheld camera in his features. Here's some media:

Dendera (2011) / directed by Daisuke Tengan

Trailer for Daisuke Tengan's new film, Dendera. It picks up where his father's (Shohei Imamura's) film, The Ballad of Narayama (1983), left off and depicts a group of elderly women, who, as according to village ritual, have been left to die atop a mountain, yet defy convention and create a settlement called Dendera where they resolve to continue their existence. The film is adapted from a novel by Yuya Sato.

Hakuchi: The Innocent (1999) / directed by Macoto Tezuka

Hakuchi (1999)

A little Eastern gem by Osamu Tezuka's heir, Macoto. He shows the same compositional eye as his father and has the love of the fantastic that permeates so much of manga. Yet, he stays true to cinematic conventions by aligning his story within classical structure and psychological believability.

Isawa (Tadanobu Asano) is a young journalist in a Japan plagued by war, and subsequently dumbed down by the flamboyant media broadcasts of the TV station that he works at. Ginga (Reika Hashimoto) and Sayo (Miyako Koda) are the two women occupying his life, one who's a mass media starlet, and the other who is loving yet mentally challenged. As he navigates this shattered world, he comes into himself as an individual, all the while not fully committing to either woman, by hiding Sayo in his room, away from his nosy landlords, and shunning the childlike and conceited advances of Ginga. On top of this is his draconian boss, played by an always-welcome Yoshio Harada, and the general living situation, where it appears that all, even so-called privileged people like Isawa, who don't have to fight in the war, live in a state of poverty. Of particular note are the scenes between Isawa and Ginga, and the power struggle that takes place between them. Reika Hashimoto ought to be commended for holding her own at age 19 against Asano, who had by then already made a firm place in the hip Japanese cinema, like this film.

Coda:

The picture works well as a "world-portrait" more than the Western convention of understanding the motives of one character. This is a very unique film among many, and for those who enjoy it, like myself, it should spur them on to visit more of Tezuka's work, and even read his father's comics to see how deep the heritage goes. He seems to have delved into genre film-making with 2004's Black Kiss, but judging by this entry, it ought to be more than a play on the expectations of a scare-picture.

Oniroku Dan, 79, RIP (Video NSFW)

Oniroku Dan, the celebrated author, well-known for his bondage-themed novels, many of which were adapted by directors such as Masaru Konuma, Koyu Ohara, and Katsuhiko Fujii, has died. His stories, and the films made from them will especially be remembered for bringing actress Naomi Tani into the spotlight. She was the most famous actress of adult-themed, "pink films" in the 70's.

More recently, after a brief retirement and business ventures, he has returned to the writer's chair, with more books in Japanese and the first English translation of his stories. Director Ryuichi Hiroki, who started out in pink cinema, made an indirect biopic of him, I Am an S&M Writer, detailing the problems his work must have caused with his wife. The author and the era, will surely be missed.

R.I.P.

(below is the film, Rope and Skin, uploaded onto Video Google by a user––it has adult content, NSFW)

Girlfriend: Someone Please Stop the World (2004)

Girlfriend: Someone Please Stop the World (2004)

It started with Vibrator, then Tokyo Trash Baby, now this!

Ryuichi Hiroki, who started out in the pink film industry to learn his craft, is now making some of my favorite pictures from Japan these days. Each of the Hiroki films I've seen deal with people who aren't very much represented in cinema: the powerless, the ordinary, the outsiders. And this picture, like the others, shows how these people can reconnect with society through positive relationships.

The beautiful Aoba Kawai, playing the character of Miho, is very much this type of person. Beneath a pretty exterior, one can see a persistent sadness. Her glum face is very much like the look Aoi Miyazaki donned in Harmful Insect. Her problem in the film is the lack of a relationship with her father (Tomorowo Taguchi), who left the family when she was an adolescent. Drowning herself in her work, as a hairdresser, or surrounding herself with her three roommates, cannot quell this problem. She tries to deal with it on her own, but to no avail.

Miho one day unwittingly runs into the quirky, short-haired Kyoko (whose reminiscent of Mami Nakamura's character in Tokyo Trash Baby, as both are so peculiar), played by Kinuwo Yamada, who asks to take her picture. Kyoko is a professional photographer and Miho is the only person who accepted to model for her photos, in the nude. Miho accepts as a way to release her anger over her father. The two women, completely unalike, slowly bond over their problems with men, and attempt to resolve them. Kyoko finds artistic inspiration in Miho's complexity, and together, they seem to act as a positive and negative part of a whole.

Hiroki's films show a maturity that is direly missing from a capitalist cinema, geared to entice our basest emotions. His work in pinku eiga may have been necessary as he fully understands the role that sex and relationships play in empowering, damaging, even ostracizing individuals. While he has received critical acclaim, despite the appearance of a few DVD's in Region-1, I don't think his films have yet to find a wide audience, just mostly the cyber-fed cinema geeks like myself and festival insiders. But in a way, I almost prefer for Hiroki to work as he does, away from the glaring lights of international stardom. He certainly has no place in the Academy, making national epics or bolstering the egos of a few star actors. His work is more what art should be: personal expression, not cultural/national justification. His characters are ones that I always tend to connect with, people whose personalities highlight the contradictions of modern society.

Japan, at this stage, has acquired many features similar to America, especially in the urban context, and it is this newer form of social relations that Hiroki sees and understands, despite the fact that he doesn't write his own scripts. It is very fitting that a white character, played by Jason Gray, is portrayed alongside the Japanese without much ideological emphasis through the use of cutting techniques or by giving him some exaggerated character traits. What I'm saying is, because at this stage, since Japanese life is not too different from life in other imperialist nations, we see an even deeper similarity in narratives. These young, highly urban characters come with all the sexual hang-ups, family troubles, economic restraints, vanity, shallowness, and ennui of any figure in a modern film from the U.S., Canada, France, Germany, etc...

Chinese film, especially the recent Lost in Beijing, is taking the same route. The way people live determine the way they think, and the way they write and express themselves. With this new connectedness, reinforced by an ever-entangling global financial system, I tend to wonder just how much one country or another can attest to having traits distinct to its "national cinema".

Tokyo Trash Baby 東京ゴミ女 (Tokyo Gomi Onna, 2000)

Ryuichi Hiroki is quickly becoming an international star for his intelligently-written romances. Well, as far as I know, he hasn't written a single film (none of which I've seen), but each one delves into the specifics of urban relationships. This film is a tale of obsession and timidity that seems to accompany the experience of living single in a megalopolis. Miyuki, played by NAKAMURA Mami, is a waitress at a nondescript Tokyo café, who finds it easier to rummage through the trash of a guy she likes rather than talk to him. How she reached this point is not given, but it is certain that Miyuki lives in a world of her own. She's a very cute and quirky girl, but somewhat childlike (not altogether different from the American hipsters). As she collects the guy's trash, a musician that lives on the floor above her, she slowly begins to think that she knows him, and uses his scraps to create an idealized image of him. Writer OIKAWA Shotaro has made a very unique film on how we misunderstand the people we fall in love with, and the portrayal of Miyuki, as a girl who cannot quite fit in, hence her being alone most of the time, is very convincing. Her fixation on the guitarist eventually leads to a meeting at one of his gigs, where her ideal may not meet his reality.

Miyuki acts as a foil to her co-worker, Kyoko, played by SHIBASAKI Kou, a woman who appears slightly older and is more integrated into social norms, hence her daily boasting at work of her rampant sexual encounters. It is strange to say that this is a gem in the film world for its originality: it is a film about normal people in normal situations. No one is exceptional, talented or special. Though Miyuki is the type of girl who one would imagine as the black sheep in a traditional family, being the self-absorbed, creative one, she is presented as trying to reconnect with the world through love, and her persona is not so extraordinary as to negate her existence in a real, ordinary setting. She's the "weird girl" that you went to high school with.

This film was the first entry of six DV features in the 'Love Cinema' series, which also includes SHIOTA Akihiko's Gips, and MIIKE Takashi's Visitor Q.

Runin: Banished るにん (2004)

Runin: Banished - was a bit maudlin, but enjoyable. I like films about people at the bottom of the barrel. Eiji Okuda impressed me with Shojo, and I knew that he would create something great with time. I love when filmmakers build upon older works, and here he expands the legacy of Shohei Imamura. It’s about that lowest tier society. The characters in question are assorted criminals who have been banished from Japan and sent to a small island to fend for themselves. Like in an Imamura film, there is a lot of sex, and all emotions in general run wild. The performances are so impassioned, similar to the older films. One truly gets a sense of the strength of humanity, as these people who have nothing use all they have to survive, sometimes destroying, sometimes saving each other. It’s not flawless by any means, but this is a special moment in world cinema. There is a certain freedom of expression here that is so often stifled in the larger market. In time, it will be valued tremendously.

Noriko's Dinner Table 紀子の食卓 (2005)

Noriko's Dinner Table - I really don't remember what I thought of Suicide Club. Maybe that means it wasn't worth much. The ending was very bizarre, very crazy. Sort of satanic, in a way. SONO Sion impressed the hell out of me with Strange Circus. Like Blind Beast, it's one of those films that I have to love in secret, lest I lose even more friends. Yeah, it's not really safe for your normal types. He should have made an addition to that instead of that trite circus. I knew, going into it, that NDT would be somewhat better than Suicide Club. The big running time made me assume that he would build an intricate story, which he did, even if it feels a little bit bloated (not that the film is too long, I have patience, but the length doesn't really mean it's going to be better - this isn't A Brighter Summer Day). I kind of loved the eponymous protagonist, for looks and identification. She matches the strong, intelligent woman that can so easily be found in Japanese cinema, though she is incredibly naive in such youth. But lo and behold, she's ripped from my enjoyment, and Sono delves into the silly stories of the father and the friend and the sister. I thought this was just going to be about Noriko, the other characters aren't nearly as interesting. But what Sono did, and badly at that, was weave a domestic drama over bizarre events. Yet, it's not a profound domestic drama the way The Sting of Death is, or I'm hoping so dearly, the way Okaeri will be (if you read this and no where I can find it, then I'll be indebted to you for life). It's just more national ethos, you'll get it if you've learned the vocabulary. Nothing new here, mixed with the old female worship too. *6 out of 10

Moe no Suzaku 萌の朱雀 (1997)

Moe no Suzaku - is one of the ten most beautiful color films. All of Kawase's work (from what I've read) seems to be a great celebration of the family and of furusato. Watching this is like flipping through an old family album, remembering little details of relatives. Indeed, the patchwork-like compiling of the scenes creates this effect. It is realism that becomes poetic simply from the perfection of the natural settings, those pristine, quaint Japanese mountain villages. You'll want to lay forever in the warm colors and walk around the village for the sights. This is also very much a celebration of nature. Quite simply, it's the most artistic family film you could find.

Sleeping Man 眠る男 (1996)

Sleeping Man - Unfortunately, I didn't have subtitles, but the images contain the spirit of the picture, so I feel an understanding with the material. It seems to be another film supporting the national ethos. As one critic said, a shared history gives people a psychological foundation, and the presence of SE Asians, here welcomed and not castigated, displays humanist concerns. There were a few youngsters who became awkward at the presence of Christine Hakim's character, Tia, but YAKUSHO Koji's character, Hamamura, seemed to welcomed her, and occasionally correcting her Japanese: "Anata wa doushite?" Like KAWASE Naomi, OGURI Kohei praises simplistic, village life, or would rather not see it destroyed like most (hopefully). It's a serene and comfortable family film, and a HUGE influence on The Taste of Tea. I would recommend watching them together.

Yokubo 欲望 (2005)

Yokubo - After falling completely in love with ITAYA Yuka in Tokyo.Sora, I decided that it wouldn't be too bad to watch this before calling it a night. Of course, it had come to my attention that she bared all in this picture, so even as bourgeois and phony as this movie is, it wasn't a complete waste of time. Actually, it's a bit impressive, even if that goddamn choral introduction makes you lose control of your emotions. These chick flicks are like mind-control. They present us with a world that is so dreamy, so much more wonderful than the dreariness of real, industrial life. To begin with, Itaya is a woman whom it is very easy to fall in love with (due to her immense beauty), so watching it, you're beginning to love her as well. And being a woman's picture, she is centralized in the narrative, having autonomy and general dominance over the men. The men, mostly all of them, are quite pathetic. There is No-se who's married, but is sort of brutish and obviously can't commit to her, and then Itaya's character, Ruiko, falls into the arms of Masami, who is completely impotent. So, the world rests on her shoulders. But overall, it is very mature romance, but the Hallmark quality makes it worth skipping. (I wish my life was always in soft focus.)

Bright Future アカルイミライ (2003)

Bright Future - Just as a general rule, it's not that hard to tell when you'll be impressed by a film. Usually, a simple plot synopsis will reveal everything. If it sounds original and interesting, then most of the time it will be so. Also, the enthusiasm that others show directly relates to the possible goodness of the film in question. Looking at reviews of Noisy Requiem, everyone seemed so taken with it, but I have yet to see it. This film was the same, just the screenshots piqued my interest. It looked so strange, and then reading as little as possible, for fear of spoilers, learning that it was a film about alienation from a horror director prompted me immediately. And yes, it's all validated. This is an extremely well-written and well-executed film about the thing that we try to avoid: the supermasssive black hole within the soul of modern man. Not being too existential, it deals with it directly, without expounding too much, but such a topic is welcome because it hardly ever gets mentioned. Beginning in understandable territory, Kurosawa presents us with the utter pointlessness of daily labor and the near impossibility of self-fulfillment in such a bog, and through the characters of Yuji and Mamoru, ODAGIRI Joe and ASANO Tadanobu respectively, he shows us how people escape this purgatory. The two guys in question are basically adults who never really grew up. The silly distractions such as pets and video arcades, along with the multitude of time wasters present in an urban sprawl, are seen as deterrents from confronting reality. Tokyo's neon wasteland must produces hundreds of thousands like these two, alienated from any real goal, left with nothing to accomplish. It's the problem with the first-world. And Odagiri is the definition of star quality. He has it all: looks, talent, charisma. Joe is the Will Smith of Japan.

Wife to Be Sacrificed 生贄夫人 (1974)

Wife to be Sacrificed - I watched this immediately after Flower and Snake. The previous film, in all honesty, does retain a campy quality, and one may feel cheapened afterwards, but I can say that this does something different. This is a more intelligent exploration of twisted desire (yeah, it is twisted if you have to do all that to a woman for satisfaction). Konuma's form is much more precise here, and he really made something of an erotic gem. I really do believe that if the sex were normal then everyone would be praising it as some classic, but only because it's perverse has it been excluded. Once they watch it, they'll understand. It'll be placed right up there with your Oshima, Bataille, Nin, Miller, de Sade, Masoch, and the like. Of course, the film's success greatly lies on the audience's feelings towards Naomi Tani. I could imagine nothing but an all-male audience viewing this, and more importantly a male audience in their 30s. Tani has a mature look that is usually unacceptable by film standards. She really does look like a woman and not an over-developed teen like some of the young actresses that are introduced into films to get press coverage. One critic said the secret behind her appeal is that she looks very much like a typical Japanese mother, and the audience would indulge in their repressed Oedipal fantasies while viewing her films. I couldn't go that far, but one will notice her fully grown-up look, pale skin, and fleshy exterior. It all adds to a very mature and intriguing film that I hope has been emulated again (and again) in her filmography. A subversive gem.

Tokyo.Sora (2002)

Tokyo.Sora - was released a year after Take Care of My Cat, and they are both very similar, but I'm far more impressed with the Japanese rendition of urban womanhood. Yet, just as in ISHIKAWA Hiroshi's next film Su-Ki-Da, this presents characters more unusual than anything else I've seen. I understand that it is a culture of politeness, but his characters display a reservedness far greater than in other films. I can definitely say, no characters from the older films of the 60s and 70s were ever like this. Ishikawa's urbanites can hardly get a word out. But it has such a light touch as to earn respect, though as pretty as the film is with its transparent 16mm color, the themes that we're dealing with here aren't that profound. If only the script were more detailed, delved deeper into certain issues, then maybe I would grant it higher praise.

Tree Without Leaves - SHINDO Kaneto (1986)

Tree Without Leaves - It may be impossible to render a more affectionate expression of love for one's mother. The only other works of art I've come across that approaches this are the initial pages of the "Combray" section in Swann's Way, and well.... Mother by Naruse. It is very convincing and makes me assume that Shindo added autobiographical elements. The starring family and their status as the village's patricians give it a more classic feel, as the old stories were always about the king and his kin. In addition to the expression of love for the mother, played by Shindo's wife OTOWA Nobuko (in one of the greatest roles ever), a large part of the drama deals with the families declining fortune (very old school, huh?). It may not be a film about people we can all identify with, but the technical perfection is unavoidable. Shot in such a crisp, clean black-and-white, I greatly wish that I can one day see this on 35. It's sort of strange that the movie won no awards because it's basically perfect. Maybe Shindo had lost friends that year.

The Sting of Death - OGURI Kohei (1990)

The Sting of Death - I first heard about the director of this film, OGURI Kohei, in my professor's book. In her critical study of Oshima, she compared one of Oguri's films, Muddy River to The Sun's Burial(both about the poor-as-shit residents that can still be found in Osaka). Locating a copy of Muddy River isn't feasible at the moment, but there are inexpensive Hong Kong DVDs of this film, The Sting of Death, which, in the brief criticism on Oguri that is actually available, has been touted as his masterpiece. It is difficult to tell whether or not this is a masterpiece, but like any work of art that makes people pay attention, it takes itself extremely seriously. Like Maboroshi no Hikari the camera is almost completely immobile and generates an uncomfortable intensity during the scenes of the couple's marital downfall. Here, we see the story of a writer's conflict with his wife over his infidelity. For nearly two hours, we have to put up with their psychological battle, and they (and the audience) are driven ever closer to insanity in the process. There just really aren't too many other Japanese films that delve into a subject so deeply. Interspersing the marital duels, there are scenes that are terrifyingly funny, and the framing is also very beautiful, almost providing an escape from the morbid drama. Once again, MATSUZAKA Keiko proves that she was the greatest Japanese actress of that time period. Some may criticize her for overacting, but the power she brings to her performances usually matches the circumstances. For me, she represents the older generation of actors, worldwide, who just put more feeling into their performances than the young people do. In that respect, acting has shifted.

Shinjuku Ecstasy

All My Dreams Came True

Talking Head

I discovered this film when I bought the Mamouru Oshii Cinema Trilogy Collection boxset, available from Bandai. Like many anime enthusiasts, I was interested in Mamoru Oshii after viewing Ghost in the Shell and its sequel, Innocence. It turns out that these 3 films are not metaphysical, cyborg action dramas, but rather comedies and satires of the whole film world, as well as the anime industry. Talking Head's "storyline" is about an anime feature that must be released in 2 months, but there is no director. A "migrant technical director" is called in to replace the missing director. His skills include being able to perfectly mimic anyone's style while still being able to make innovations to that style. The story takes a turn when the crew members begin to die, one-by-one, Heart of Darkness style. Talking Head is the best of the 3 films in the trilogy, combining the film-within-a-film elements of Federico Fellini's 8 1/2 with a deliberate abstraction of film reality by exposing sets and lighting set-ups (Oshii did the same thing in The Red Spectacles). Oshii is a talented creator; he distorts our assumptions of the imposed reality of film while giving us a lesson in film history. He also has his characters giving numerous speeches about the way films must be made, but Oshii himself breaks these self-imposed rules in his own storytelling. The link of the trilogy is Chiba Shigeru. He plays the lead in all 3 films of the trilogy, and speaks with a standard Japanese accent, but the seriousness in his voice adds to the satire that Oshii is trying to convey. Talking Head is a great film for anyone who wants to know what goes on inside a director's head.