Shin Godzilla.

Review #2563: Shin Godzilla.

Cast: 

Hiroki Hasegawa (Rando Yaguchi), Yutaka Takenouchi (Hideki Akasaka), Satomi Ishihara (Kayoko Ann Patterson), Ren Ōsugi (Prime Minister Seiji Okochi), Akira Emoto (Ryuta Azuma), Kengo Kôra (Yusuke Shimura, Deputy Chief Cabinet Secretary), Mikako Ichikawa (Hiromi Ogashira, Deputy Director), Jun Kunimura (Masao Zaizen, Integrated Chief of Staff), Pierre Taki (Saigo, Combat Leader), Kyūsaku Shimada (Katayama, Minister of Foreign Affairs), Ken Mitsuishi (Kozuka, Governor of Tokyo), Shingo Tsurumi (Yajima, Joint Staff Deputy), Kimiko Yo (Reiko Hanamori, Defense Minister), Takumi Saitō (Ikeda, Tank Captain), Takashi Fujiki (Tokyo Lieutenant Governor), Yû Kamio (Ministry of Foreign Affairs), with Suzuki Matsuo (Journalist), Takahiro Miura (Journalist) and Mansai Nomura (Godzilla, motion capture) Directed by Hideaki Anno (#2344 - The End of Evangelion) and Shinji Higuchi.

Review: 

"In the world of fantastical scifi, Godzilla isn’t just an embodiment of hopes and dreams, but a caricature of reality–almost a kind of satirical reflection of the world. Painting present-day Japan in that light is something of a crazy experiment." - Hideaki Anno

"Shin Godzilla is a very different kind of Godzilla movie to its predecessors. So I was bracing for the movie-going audience to say, "Oh, this isn't Godzilla." But they were surprisingly very receptive to what we were trying to do.  They also fully picked up the the intent and nuance I tried to pour into the film." - Shinji Higuchi

Once upon a time, the Godzilla movies were on ice. Godzilla: Final Wars, released in 2004, was the sixth and final movie released by Toho in their third phase of making the films (which is basically split into eras of their emperor with "Shōwa", "Heisei" or, "Godzilla [1998] sucked, let's make movies again" or, uh, "Reiwa, otherwise known as "Godzilla [2014] rocked, let's make movies again"). So, with the success of the 2014 American rendition, Toho moved quickly to announce the resurgence of the series being in production (one with a title that basically can be construed as "new", "true", or "god", as opposed to, say, "Godzilla Resurgence"). The film was directed by Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi, who had worked together on Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water, both renditions of Neon Genesis Evangelion, along with Love & Pop (1998)*; Higuchi served as VFX director while Anno served as co-editor and writer for the movie, which drew inspiration from the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami. The effect for Godzilla was done with computer-generated imagery that saw motion capture utilized (after debating using a puppet). Released in Japan on July 29, 2016, the movie was a considerable success and a few months later it even got a release in America, the first one for the series since Godzilla 2000 [1999]. Due to the contract signed by Toho and Legendary Entertainment, the next live-action Godzilla movie could not be produced until at least 2020; it couldn't stop them from doing animated films, which is where the animated trilogy (Godzilla: Planet of the Monsters [2017], Godzilla: City on the Edge of Battle [2018], Godzilla: The Planet Eater [2018]) comes in before Godzilla Minus One came around in 2023.

I wonder how this would've felt in 2016, with a 19-year-old* me, one who had only seen the 1954 movie and the 2014 American film at the time, I really do. Maybe I would've got a big kick out seeing it in a theater in the same way that Godzilla Minus One rocked my imagination years later. But this is 2026, I'm nearly 30, and at the end of the day, this is just an okay Godzilla movie that is not nearly as interesting as it believes itself to be for the approach that they aimed for.  This isn't even a complaint about what I wanted the movie to be, this is merely just me believing that things really haven't changed that much from the sequences in 1960s Godzilla movies in conference table discussion. Sure, the camera angles are sometimes neat, and there are little moments to chuckle with amidst the endless displays of who is who. But at a certain point, you can imagine someone watching the film at home (not in theaters, heaven forbid yelling there) and going, "who cares?" I suppose there is a bit of imagination need to believe there was something in their lives besides the minutiae of conference rooms just like with the older ones; I'll give it the pass that the entertainment value mostly overrides the middling characters.² Would the movie be higher on the supposed "bleak scale" some people label it, if, say, the National Diet had been vaporized? (I had a feeling that one of the Godzilla films of the past few decades had a different type of ending, and what do you know, Godzilla 2000 ends with Godzilla going through Tokyo). Going through conference rooms may be exciting to you in hearing what someone might do in the event of a disaster (do you also love doing your taxes?), but being outside feels freer for a movie. The atomic breath sequence is fun not only because it dispenses with one piece of the "who cares?" puzzle but also because, wait for it, it involves Godzilla being cool as hell in destruction. Sure, some folks probably loved it for being, say, complimentary of the Self-Defense Forces, but the real attraction is what you see of its monster, the eventual method of containment (face it, you know no matter what, the movie will not end like Terminator 3) and then, maybe remembering the face of one of the people in the movie. It really is a movie of adaptability: Godzilla adapts into multiple forms (some of them are pretty neat, arguably), the politicians either have to adapt for their country's sake or die (with or without the American government looming) and you either adapt to the film's rhythm for two hours or fall by the wayside.

There are moments with Hasegawa that does invite curiosity in juggling ambition and, well, actually being clever enough to listen and also lead people around him. In theory, the best one to tag along in the discussion part of the film (i.e., stuck in a room with nerds rather than political nerds*) is Ichikawa, mainly because they sound incisive...sure is a shame they only pop up here and there. Apparently, Ishihara felt the pressure in having to deal with the amount of lines in English (as one does when playing an American senior official) that ends up as pretty jarring (reading subtitles is one thing, imagine if you suddenly hear English all of a sudden) when compared to everyone else in vague nature anyway. Arguably, Minus One and this movie share a handful of aspects: both involve a fresh take involving the nature of man when confronting a great threat (bureaucrats in one circle, folks coming off the end of a war in another), both set themselves apart as a fresh reboot that doesn't involve introducing a second monster (the only other non-monster mash Godzilla movie in the last few decades was The Return of Godzilla back in 1984, although that one acted as a "direct sequel" to the first film), and both involve an ending inviting the possibility of a follow-up emergence(^). I felt like I cared more about what I saw in Minus One than what happened with this movie (the milage may vary when it comes to that 2014 American one), but I feel like I should be fairer to the 2016 movie for basically accomplishing its goal of a distinct take on a creature and government going in tandem in adaptability. As a whole, Shin Godzilla is basically fine, surely inspiring curiosity for its place within modern renditions of monster movies from the people that like its pacing and ones who don't have as much fun with it. At a certain point, I had to realize, yeah, this movie did achieve the goals set out on the scale and ambition required in a Japanese movie. Regardless, it has enough entertainment value worth recommending at least once for a movie that is now ten years old.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*Incidentally, Anno wrote Higuchi's Shin Ultraman (2022) and later wrote and directed Shin Kamen Rider (2023).

*December birthdays stay undefeated.

²People love giving the Legendary Pictures Godzilla movies shit for their middling characterization in the face of monster mashes, which to me is funny as hell because brother, what do you think I'm here for in a theater? At a certain point for some movies, the line between "I wanted to see X in the movie" and "I wanted to be interested in the movie" collapses for some movies.

*People who are nerdy about politics are the biggest dweebs imaginable, change my mind. At least the guys who are weird about the lore of movies keep it roughly on the level. 

[^] Higuchi did mention a few small parallels with The Return of Godzilla - SHIN GODZILLA Interview with Shinji Higuchi, Discussing THE RETURN OF GODZILLA and SHIN GODZILLA's Shocking Finale - Daily Dead

Oddly, both also have an available version where you can see the movie in black and white. Also, good god, imagine a Shin Godzilla sequel that has actually *not* focus on the bureaucracy for a moment and actually care about people in the city? The horror! It almost feels like the reverse of my slight bone to pick with Evangelion: at a certain point, I did roll my eyes at Shinji's inner life and wanted to aim my eyes anywhere else. Specifically, Misato. 

In fairness to 2014 Godzilla, I remember loving it a bit back then and slightly less the next time I saw it over five years later because, hey, why the hell would you kill off Bryan Cranston's character? 12 years later, you really can ask: Who cares about (or remembers) Aaron Taylor-Johnson's character? 

Obligatory link, i.e. the only review of the movie I ever watched of the film (also, we love old Cinemassacre)

For the purposes of having a reference of previous Godzilla movies, inquire here: 

The original 1954 classic and its decent 1955 sequel

King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962) - Godzilla fights King Kong to a relative draw.

Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) - Mothra joins the mash!

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964) - A monster so important it made the title

Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965) - Nick Adams in: Spaceman's Adventure

Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966) - Terrorists, lobsters, and more.

Son of Godzilla (1967) - A real family drama

Destroy All Monsters (1968) - Mash like it's 1999 in Monsterland

All Monsters Attack (1969) - Children and Minilla have to fight their own battles instead of Godzilla

Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1971) - Trippy environmentally hip fun for the whole family

Godzilla vs. Gigan (1972) - Godzilla towers and a clip show all in one

Godzilla vs. Megalon (1973) - The one with Jet Jaguar the robot with a theme song.

I'll get to the ones from Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla (1974) to Godzilla Final Wars (2004) eventually. Have fun!

Godzilla vs. Gigan.

Review #2525: Godzilla vs. Gigan.

Cast: 

Hiroshi Ishikawa (Gengo Odaka), Tomoko Umeda (Machiko Shima), Yuriko Hishimi (Tomoko Tomoe), Mnoru Takashima (Shosaku Takasugi), Zan Fujita (Fumio Sudo), Toshiaki Nishizawa (Kubota, Secretary of World Children's Land), Kunio Murai (Takashi Shima), Gen Shimizu (the Commander of Defense Forces), Kuniko Ashihara (Mrs. Fudo), Zeko Nakamura (Priest), Akio Muto (Kadohisa), with Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla), Kenpachiro Satsuma (Gigan), Koetsu Omiya (Anguirus), and Kanta Ina (King Ghidorah) Directed by Jun Fukuda (#1668 - Ebirah, Horror of the Deep, #2070 - Son of Godzilla) 

Review: 

At this point, the Godzilla movies were appearing to be running on fumes. Sure, Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1971) was only a moderate success (hey, decent taste comes a bit later for others), but there was still the desire to try and make people all fine with another Godzilla movie by just...bringing back familiar aspects. You get King Ghidorah, a new monster with Gigan (with hooks and a saw) and, for whatever reason, a Godzilla Tower (as one does when trying to appeal to the kids, a park). Shinichi Sekizawa and Kaoru Mabuchi were each approached to do a draft with these requirements in mind, and it was Sekizawa's pitch that won out (apparently, Kimura's pitch involved a large-brain looking alien trying to subjugate the Earth and putting his form into a giant Inca statue). A majority of the soundtrack is recycled cues from previous films that had been composed by Akira Ifukube (even stuff that had been composed for a pavilion at Expo '70 is used). Stock footage from four of the previous films is used for select fight scenes (complete with color tinting), but you get a few new quirks: the monsters shed blood and in one instance, they communicate with each other (the Godzilla-Angurius sequence differs depending on which version you see, as the Japanese version [which translates to "Earth Destruction Directive: Godzilla vs. Gigan"] had speech bubbles like a comic book while the original English-dub [named Godzilla on Monster Island], had distorted growling). For such a familiar movie, it probably wasn't too much of a stretch to say that the movie was enough of a hit to keep the series going while Fukuda returned for one more of these films with Godzilla vs. Megalon in 1973, otherwise known as the one with Jet Jaguar.

Honestly, the bar for a Godzilla for me is a fairly generous one, because what's the point of just judging in comparing them to the 1954 movie over and over if you know that we are in period of Godzilla movies where "light fun" is the goal? Besides, this is a movie that just decides that King Ghidorah is alive when folks saw him killed three movies ago because, well, it's not 1999 like that other movie. I will say though that even if this is basically the equivalent of day-old chili, there are some amusing moments to be had here. I suppose it only makes sense that a group of aliens could come up with a children's park with Godzilla as the centerpiece (I wonder when Godzilla basically became the "defender of the planet" if people who had experienced Godzilla's terror had to just sit there and watch people go ga-ga for Godzilla*), but I probably would be a big sucker for a Godzilla park (it's real, apparently?) at any rate. Where was I? Oh, right, the movie: you've got these totally normal guys trying to get a tape back from a group of oddballs: a manga-drawing artist that stumbles onto a girl trying to get their brother back (who was being held by the park because, um, they needed his input) that had a hippie helping them out. Oh, and there's a woman who does karate in one scene. Did I mention that the aliens actually resemble cockroaches that go around disguising themselves as humans? The acting here (as comprised of by faces that most probably didn't see again in a movie) isn't anything too special aside from chuckles at the seeming randomness of their situation, with the cherry on top is their key part of the climax: they put up explosives onto an elevator, expecting the bad guys to shoot their weapons, because, wait for it: the elevator rings to reveal a large drawing. Aside from Godzilla (as played one last time by Haruo Nakajima) being lasered in the lower section and a few silly shots to introduce Gigan and Ghidorah (which look like toys), it mainly just comes off as an attempt at a highlights reel that has the one saving grace of being just 89 minutes long. As a whole, Fukuda was in a tough spot with cheap production values, and it is easy to send chuckles at the attempts to sell old clips as new, but there is at least some entertainment value to be had with its strange type of charm that shines enough to at least make the experience end up as not being a complete head-scratcher. 

Overall, I give it 6 out of 10 stars.

Song of the day!

*This basically leads to a horrible thought - imagine if that Godzilla park was real, and a person invites someone that they didn't realize had seen destruction as a child and it basically gives them PTSD in front of all the children.

For the purposes of having a reference of previous Godzilla movies, inquire here: 

The original 1954 classic and its decent 1955 sequel

King Kong vs. Godzilla (1962) - Godzilla fights King Kong to a relative draw.

Mothra vs. Godzilla (1964) - Mothra joins the mash!

Ghidorah, the Three-Headed Monster (1964) - A monster so important it made the title

Invasion of Astro-Monster (1965) - Nick Adams in: Spaceman's Adventure

Ebirah, Horror of the Deep (1966) - Terrorists, lobsters, and more.

Son of Godzilla (1967) - A real family drama

Destroy All Monsters (1968) - Mash like it's 1999 in Monsterland

All Monsters Attack (1969) - Children and Minilla have to fight their own battles instead of Godzilla

Godzilla vs. Hedorah (1971) - Trippy environmentally hip fun for the whole family

Oldboy.

Review #2504: Oldboy.

Cast: 

Choi Min-sik (Oh Dae-su; Oh Tae-kyung as young Dae-su), Yoo Ji-tae (Lee Woo-jin; Yoo Yeon-seok as young Woo-jin), Kang Hye-jung (Mi-do), Ji Dae-han (No Joo-hwan; Woo Il-han as young Joo-hwan), Kim Byeong-ok (Mr. Han), Yoon Jin-seo (Lee Soo-ah), Oh Dal-su (Mr. Park Cheol-woong), and Oh Kwang-rok (Suicidal man) Directed by Park Chan-wook.

Review: 

"Many people tend to differentiate starkly between commercially successful or nonsuccessful movies, but the simple truth is merely that people have differing tastes about what kind of movies they like or don't. The audience seems hazy to me, shrouded in a veil through which I can't see. They are not real, not concrete. So I chose one person to be my sole audience, representing all the audiences out there. That person is my wife. From the scriptwriting and the editing process all the way to deciding on the music, I discuss everything with her thoroughly in detail. She is a normal housewife with an incredible eye who constantly offers me much advice and help."

One of the reasons for New Directors Month is to make up for lost time and go with people that clearly will get further featuring over time. Born to an architect and a poet in Seoul, Park Chan-wook actually planned to be an art critic. His major was philosophy at Sogang University but couldn't quite settle in to his major (the university did not have many arts classes) and found interest in a photography club. He then saw a screening of Vertigo (1958) and apparently was compelled to "at least try to become a movie director"*. Park worked as a film critic (when he had to make money in college, he did stories based on movies prior to being shown in Korea with subtitles) while earning film experience as an assistant director on Kkamdong (1988). He made his attempt to be a filmmaker with The Moon Is... the Sun's Dream (1992) and Trio (1997) ...and neither found an audience, to the point where Park essentially disowned them. At any rate, he kept going, directing the short film Judgement (1999) that basically made him realized that actors "were not puppets". He got his breakthrough with the mystery thriller Joint Security Area (2000), which for a brief time was the highest ever grossing movie in South Korea. Unintentionally, Park's next film became the first of what has been labeled as "The Vengeance Trilogy" with Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance (2002), with Oldboy (2003) and Lady Vengeance (2005) soon following. According to Park, the theme of vengeance recurred in certain movies of his because of how people have had to deal with the rage and grudges within themselves (with smaller and smaller outlets to get it out) that basically leads to "stories of people who place the blame for their actions on others because they refuse to take on the blame themselves", where morality and guilty consciences are what matters as the subject (he also has stated once that his "through-line of violence" comes with the turbulence he had witnessed as a college youth in the 1980s). In addition to the occasional work for television (such as The Sympathizer in 2024*), Park has continued to make a wide variety of films such as I'm a Cyborg, But That's OK (2006), Thirst (2009), The Handmaiden (2016) and his most recent work, No Other Choice (2025).

The source material for the film was the Japanese manga Old Boy, which was written by Garon Tsuchiya and illustrated by Nobuaki Minegishi that was serialized from 1996 to 1998. Hwang Jo-yun, Lim Jun-hyung, and Park Chan-wook adapted the script for the film you see here. An unauthorized Indian adaptation called Zinda came out in 2006 before Oldboy was subsequently remade for American audiences with Spike Lee in 2013. What you get here is a movie all about making you feel every nook and cranny of the complexities that arise in what it really means to try and seek revenge and the all-encompassing perils that come with guilt. It is an action thriller of course, with a particularly standout single-shot corridor fight scene, but there is something much more involving in what the movie wants to make you feel in the cycles of violence that come every now and then that isn't so much exploitative as is evocative. The performances are particularly worthwhile to experience this disturbing journey of all-consuming violence, with Choi (who did most of his own stunts) managing to take it all in a stride that fits the film perfectly with where it has to go for a movie that really just involves two people confronting a mirror of each other rather than just good vs. evil. Yoo makes that other side of all-consuming revenge just as unnerving with a chilling performance that really does get under one's skin for what you see of him (I think back to the scene where he is just standing in the room with a mask, honestly). Caught in the middle of it is Kang, who handles it all with such hurried grace in this wavering story of someone trying to understand what they cannot possibly understand. You understand the feeling of being in captivity like a chained beast and wonder if they ever actually got out of the cage. Rage and vengeance can be all-consuming if one allows it to permeate through their wellbeing, and it helps that the film basically spreads its violence out in ways that make the punishments all the more unnerving (whether that involves pulling teeth, eating a live octopus, or, well, with its climax). It is a fairly brisk film that manages to be pretty unnerving with its slow burn about what really matters in the pursuit of "the truth" that you really have to not spoil for yourself. There are no triumphs or easy answers at the end of the film, which actually is a pretty big relief when you get down to it. It's a pretty damn good movie, particularly if you go into it with as little to know as possible to really let it wash over you.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.

*Among influences Park listed in 2004 were: "Sophocles, Shakespeare, Kafka, Dostoevsky, Balzac, Zola, Stendhal, Austin, Philip K. Dick, Zelazny and Vonnegut." Fun fact: one influence on Viet Thanh Nguyen when writing The Sympathizer was in fact Park's Oldboy (2003).

Another end to the New Directors Month tradition. Among the finalists for this year include the following: Pigs and Battleships [Shōhei Imamura] · The Man Who Fell To Earth [Nicolas Roeg]  · Wakefield [Robin Swicord] · Bad Company [Robert Benton] · Jacob the Liar [Frank Beyer] · Hundreds of Beavers [Mike Cheslik]

As always, see you next time.

Onibaba.

Review #2500: Onibaba.

Cast: 

Nobuko Otowa (Older Woman), Jitsuko Yoshimura (Younger Woman), Kei Satō (Hachi), Taiji Tonoyama (Ushi), and Jūkichi Uno (The masked Samurai warrior) Written and Directed by Kaneto Shindō.

Review: 

"Speaking about Onibaba in particular, my main historical interest focuses on ordinary people . . . their energy to carry themselves beyond the predicaments they encounter daily. I wish to describe the struggles of the so-called common people, which usually never appear in recorded history. This is why I made Onibaba. My mind was always on the commoners, not on the lords, politicians, or anyone of name and fame. I wanted to convey the lives of down-to-earth people who have to live like weeds."

I suppose it's something to be a filmmaker that made nearly 50 movies and lived to be 100. Born in Hiroshima, Kaneto Shindo stepped into films as a teenager when he joined the art section of the Shinko-Kinema studio in Tokyo in 1939. Inevitably, he was later drafted into the Japanese Army, where he served with a squad that saw all but him and five others killed in action. He returned from the war and worked at Shochiku as a script writer that saw him make connections with Kozaburo Yoshimura, who he formed an independent film company with (alongside actor Taiji Tonoyama) called Kindai Eiga Kyōkai. He directed his first film with Story of a Beloved Wife (1951) for Daiei Film, which was loosely based on his first marriage. That film featured Nobuko Otowa as the lead and she ended up starring in numerous Shindo movies. Likely one of his most noted early works came with Children of Hiroshima (1953), which saw him invited by the Japan Teachers Union that was admired enough to be shown at the Cannes Film Festival while ironically also being criticized by the Union for not going further in social criticism. Shindo made a variety of features from the dialogue-less The Baked Island (1960), horror movies such as Kuroneko (1968), biodramas such as The Life of Chikuzan (1977), comedy-dramas such as A Last Note (1995) and movies based on his war experiences such as Postcard (2010), which he did in his nineties; he died of natural causes in 2012 at the age of 100.

I will admit that there was an inkling of doing this film for the horror season last year. No, really. Some people might call it a stage drama or a period drama, and sure, some people can go with that, but it basically is a horror movie within the confines of masks and erotic nature (besides, horror deniers always want to call things "dramas" and "thrillers" with this or Les Diaboliques because they don't have guts). The horrors that lie within outcasts and the craven nature of trying to survive is one that seems timeless regardless of it being the 14th century or modern times. Shindo was inspired by a Shin Buddhist parable that he heard as a child (referred to as yome-odoshi-no men/niku-zuki-no-men), which involved a demon mask and, well, women. Apparently, the effects of the mask on who wears it was supposed to be symbolic of the disfigurement of the victims of the atomic bombings. But here we are with something where a group of scavengers must confront the most real thing of all: sex. It is such a dazzlingly haunting film to see the amoral qualities explode like ice, complete with having such a devastating look on the prairie and the people who live and die on it. It should be noted that the age difference between Otowa and Yoshimura was just 19 years. And yet each pull off tremendous performances, particularly with Otowa, who manages to evoke the feeling that arises from being one of flesh and blood with obvious desires even wrapped in the isolation of the reeds. Consider how she handles seeing the younger woman entwined with a newly arrived man in Satō (who plays it so well in smarmy charm) and clings on to a tree, for example. The 102 minutes rolls along with deliberate pacing that rewards those who like icy composition and even colder tension before the demon mask comes into play, which basically serves as a sort of curse for all involved. Admittedly, the ending is a bit quizzical, mainly because it just...ends. I suppose it makes sense to go with ambiguity that has a pit that might as well be purgatory for the lead characters that they just can't escape. As a horror drama, this is a pretty damn good one to let sift through you with a worthwhile chilly experience.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Yes, that's right, 2,500 reviews - you may remember Movie Night cracked 2,000 on April 20, 2023. Only so many reviews to go to 3,000.

Come Drink with Me.

Review #2498: Come Drink with Me.

Cast: 

Cheng Pei-pei ("Golden Swallow" Zheng), Yueh Hua ("Drunken Cat" Fan Da-pei), Chan Hung-lit (Jade-Faced Tiger), Lee Wan-chung ("Smiling-Tiger" Tsu Kan), Yeung Chi-hing (Abbot Liao Kung), Wong Chung (Zheng Bi-qiu), Shum Lo ("Number Five", bandit), and Wang Ruo-Ping ("Baldie", bandit) Directed by King Hu.

Review: 

Sure, let's pick at least one perceived Hong Kong classic. Well, actually King Hu was born in Beijing to an affluent family that had an interest in Peking opera from a young age more than movies. He moved to Hong Kong (then under British rule) in 1949 that found him take a variety of odd jobs, one of which was with set design. By the mid-1950s, he was appearing as an actor in films but eventually found his way working with the Shaw Brothers and their noted studio, which saw him take on assistant duties with films such as The Love Eterne (1963). Hu became a director with Sons of the Good Earth (1965). However, Come Drink with Me (1966) ended up being the one with noted success. this film was written by Hu and Ting Shan-hsi; the decision to cast Cheng Pei-pei in the film was because of her background in dance and ballet in what was her breakout role. In 1968, Cheng reprised her role in Golden Swallow, which had Jimmy Wang as co-star that was directed by Chang Cheh. Hu left the Shaws and travelled aboard to direct that resulted in roughly a dozen movies of varying cult curiosity, whether that involved Taiwan with classics such as Dragon Inn (1966) and his cult classic A Touch of Zen (1970-71) or South Korea with Raining in the Mountain (1979). Hu directed on-and-off all the way until Painted Skin (1992); he died in 1997 at the age of 64. Films such as Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (which happened to have Cheng in a supporting role) are reported to have taken influence from Hu's films.

Okay I guess I forgot to mention the movie is called a "wuxia" for its genre, which basically is an adventure with martial arts and also elements of historical fantasy, which is, well, why you see swords and stuff.* Honestly, I wish I liked the movie more, but a solid 7 is still a solid film to seek out. The action that comes through basically is timed to rhythm that would basically qualify as a crowd-pleaser for 91 minutes, right down to its blend of studio sets and frontier viewing. You get a little musical interlude to go along with the proceedings, which basically go about the way you might expect in terms of good vs. evil. I suppose it will mean a good deal more for those familiar with opera or zen or, well, those who know their Mandarin. But one appreciates the editing and positioning to make the action feel enough like it is coming from a certain kind of quickness to really pop out to you. The best parts of the film basically are the staging of the action more so than the characters themselves, mainly because at a certain point it becomes more focused on Yueh rather than Cheng, although at least you get a sense that both are trying to maintain that sense of balance in trying to not be consumed by violence, at least when compared to Chan and Lee. The first half basically holds it together a bit more in curiosity (gee, a drunken master, I wonder) than the second half, arguably. It is relatively charming as a movie to see eventually play out, I just wish it was a bit more focused with its characters, although at least the climax is swift enough to let the film close on a relatively high note. As a whole, Come Drink with Me has a certain kind of appeal for those who like a bit of mystical charm within their action movies that rolls with rhythm and the energy to make the entertainment just click in a way that doesn't seem antiquated.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

*There are essays about Hu and wuxia that might be more helpful in you are curious: Hu, King – Senses of Cinema

Or, alternatively, if you like reviews of stuff in horror or action from a source definitely more experienced: http://www.1000misspenthours.com/reviews/reviewsa-d/comedrinkwithme.htm Never let it be said that I don't try to recommend others

Godzilla vs. Hedorah.

Review #2482: Godzilla vs. Hedorah.

Cast: 

Akira Yamauchi (Dr. Toru Yano), Hiroyuki Kawase (Ken Yano), Toshie Kimura (Toshie Yano), Keiko Mari (Miki Fujinomiya), Toshio Shiba (Yukio Keuchi), Yoshio Yoshida (Gohei, a fisherman), Haruo Suzuki (JSDF senior officer), Yoshio Katsube (JSDF engineer), Tadashi Okabe (a scholar), Wataru Ōmae (a policeman), Takuya Yuki (a communications officer), Yukihiko Gondo as a helicopter pilot), Haruo Nakazawa (teenager in the meadow), Kentaro Watanabe (TV news anchor), Haruo Nakajima (Godzilla), Kenpachiro Satsuma (Hedorah) Directed by Yoshimitsu Banno.

Review: 

Apparently, the impetus for this film (the 11th in the series) started with an expo. With the Mitsubishi Pavillion at Expo '70 in Osaka, Toho participated and saw their eyes interested in an audio-visual exhibit of mirror reflections that was created by Yoshimitsu Banno. Banno was approached to make a Godzilla movie and he came up with an idea about a pollution monster in light of the fact that Japan's growing economy would create a huge problem of pollution. Banno had graduated from Tokyo University in 1955 and actually served as an assistant director on four Akira Kurosawa movies and this would be his one major effort as a director. Banno aimed for a small cast with 35 days to shoot. Tomoyuki Tanaka, who usually oversaw the films as a producer, was in the hospital for most of production and Banno used this so he could include a scene he didn't think would get approved otherwise: Godzilla using his atomic breath to fly. Animation was also used at certain points in the film. For the American edit released in 1972 by AIP, it was called "Godzilla vs. the Smog Monster" with its own song "Save the Earth" (as opposed to "Give Back the Sun"). The movie was a mild success with audiences, receiving a bit of critical scorn along with subsequent appreciation in some circles (Roger Ebert once said this was his favorite Godzilla movie). Teruyoshi Nakano, who provided the special effects for the film, stated that the comic scenes were likely added to lighten the tone of a film that he felt looking back "seems kind of cruel and heavy handed". Banno never got to do a Godzilla movie again, although he did receive an executive producer credit on a few of the 2010's Godzilla movies in America; Banno died at the age of 86 in 2017. Incidentally, Jun Fukuda returned to direct Godzilla vs. Gigan in 1972, which happened to deal with cockroach-like aliens going to Earth after their planet was destroyed...by pollution.

I have to admit, this is a pretty fun movie. Of course, anything is better than All Monsters Attack. Sure, it probably won't be for everyone with its pacing of 85 minutes full of tension and mayhem...amidst plenty of strange imagery and moments. Just to paraphrase: people get turned into skeletons when sprayed by the monster, one person hallucinates fish heads on people (right before the sludge arrives) building is shown falling down to complete silence, a kid goes on a roller coaster and sees Godzilla appear in silhouette that you can actually spot because...yes. I do appreciate the Hedorah design apparently also being able to shoot lasers because screw it, why not? It might be goofy looking, but it makes a suitable enough idea in being a symbol of what things could be with a lack of care for the Earth: sludge (consider how things look now). People coming together to try and deal with the monster at least this time around is not a collection of speeches in a boardroom, and the kid this time around is mostly just curious rather than being all the way involved like the last film. I fail to see the problem with the scene of Godzilla flying with his breath. After movies where he did a dance and had a goofy son, the flight is not exactly uncanny to actually see in, you know, a monster movie where Godzilla already gets smothered in one eye. Yamauchi and the others in the cast are pretty routine, which is a compliment in that one isn't rolling their eyes at the level of drama that is supposed to play out in a Japan that may be more economically sound but may also lose something much more important in its soul. Even the hippies get involved, with a... bonfire on a mountain. And hey, here's a film where the military does something: they come with a big electrode to try and dry out the sludge monster before Godzilla takes him to the cleaners (wonder how he gets that stuff off him later). As a whole, it is a weird little film, but as a movie trying to be conscious of the time it was made in, it is a pretty entertaining film to see realized that managed to make an impression to stick out from the previous efforts. 

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

29 years old today. Ha.

Links for people delivering better insight from the actual production: Smog Monster Director EXTRA / ゴジラ対ヘドラの監督〜EXTRA〜 (SciFi Japan TV #26)

or this: Cinefantastique Magazine: 1970-2002 : Cinefantastique : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

Black Sunday (1960).

Review #2468: Black Sunday.

Cast: 

Barbara Steele (Asa Vajda/Katia Vajda), John Richardson (Dr. Andrej Gorobec), Andrea Checchi (Dr. Choma Kruvajan), Ivo Garrani (Prince Vajda), Arturo Dominici (Igor Javutich), Enrico Olivieri (Constantine Vajda), Tino Bianchi (Ivan, the Vajdas' Manservant), Antonio Pierfederici (Priest), Clara Bindi (Innkeeper), Mario Passante (Nikita, the Coachman), Renato Terra (Boris, the Vajdas' Stableman), and Germana Dominici (Sonya, the Innkeeper's Daughter) Directed by Mario Bava (#792 - Black Sabbath)

Review: 

I have to admit that I haven't covered as much Italian horror (in its native language, preferably) as I possibly could. Mario Bava actually wanted to be a painter in his youth, but he found that following in his father Eugenio's footsteps of cameraman was his best option, serving as an assistant working on special effects in the late 1930s. Bava was approached by his friend Riccardo Freda about the idea of developing a horror film one day, which led to I Vampiri (1957), a movie Bava was to shoot and provide special effects for. However, he was thrust into the director's chair for the final two days of production when Freda left production, which had Bava come up with a new ending and include stock footage. There were other movies where Bava did work you could consider directorial work, such as The Day the Sky Exploded (1958), where actor accounts said he directed it more than the credited directed Paulo Heusch. There was also Jacques Tourneur's The Giant of Marathon (1959), a film Bava shot but had to do reshoots for exterior scenes because apparently there were moments where you could see extras smoking on camera. And then of course there was Caltiki – The Immortal Monster (1959), a sci-fi horror movie with dubious accounts over who really directed it between Bava and Freda, the latter of whom left in the middle of production. But Black Sunday [La maschera del demonio] was his formal debut as a director. Galatea, fresh off peddling movies such as the sword-and-sandal Hercules films, wanted to get another movie for the markets abroad and went with Bava, who wanted to make a horror film because of the recent success of Terence Fisher's Dracula (1957). He chose to base it on the novella "Viy", as written by Nikolai Gogol in 1835. Bava would do a variety of films in the horror genre to varying success, such as The Girl Who Knew Too Much [1963] & Blood and Black Lace [1964] (each considered among the early ones in the giallo genre), Planet of the Vampires [1965] (which some have compared to Alien [1979]), the action/crime comic movie Danger: Diabolik [1968], A Bay of Blood [1971] (likely his most violent movie). Bava's last completed film was with Shock [1977]; he died of a sudden heart attack in 1980 at the age of 65. 

American International bought the movie for the States release and did a re-dub with a few changes to the character names. Known as "La maschera del demonio" in its native country, AIP went with "Black Sunday" for the American title. There is an eerie sense of intrigue that comes with this film from the get-go of its 87-minute runtime. The opening in particular manages to intrigue the viewer closely with its imagery and sheer audacity (masks with spikes on the inside to hammer inside the evil beings). Steele has the double act that you sometimes get with costume dramas: the evil being filled with ambition and yet trapped to a specific place and the unfortunate reincarnation lookalike who can't quite catch a break. Steele became a star in various Italian movies because of the film, which she said "was probably the best of that genre of film I've made...but anybody could have been playing that girl." I think she sold herself a bit short here, there is just something to the way she moves and says her lines that manages an otherworldly feel of odd elegance. One has an unsettled feeling when watching the film at times when it comes what does get shown (sure, the other actors are mildly fine, but that's how it does sometimes). As a whole, Black Sunday has managed to attract so much interest over the years because of the sheer power you can feel in its bones of atmosphere that crisscross with elements of effective gore (such as the parts involving blood). There is something about how the movie feels and acts that you just didn't see back then that just manages to stay as unsettling and dazzling as it did back in 1960. You'll have an interesting treat on your hands with this film or other Bava movies, that's for sure.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

On tap to close out 7 Days of the Week After Halloween, as per tradition, a doubleheader: 

Mayhem / Suitable Flesh

Jigoku.

Review #2442: Jigoku.

Cast: 

Shigeru Amachi (Shirō Shimizu), Yōichi Numata (Tamura), Utako Mitsuya (Yukiko Yajima and Sachiko Taniguchi), Hiroshi Izumida (Kyōichi "Tiger" Shiga), Kiyoko Tsuji (Kyōichi's mother), Akiko Ono (Yoko), Hiroshi Hayashi (Gōzō Shimizu), Kimie Tokudaij (Ito Shimizu), Jun Ōtomo (Ensai Taniguchi), Akiko Yamashita (Kinuko), Torahiko Nakamura (Professor Yajima), Fumiko Miyata (Mrs. Yajima), Tomohiko Ōtani (Dr. Kusama), Kōichi Miya (Journalist Akagawa), Hiroshi Shinguji (as Hiroshi Shingûji) (Detective Hariya), Sakutarō Yamakawa (the Fisherman), and Kanjūrō Arashi (Lord Enma, the King of Hell) Directed by Nobuo Nakagawa.

Review: 

It does sometimes help to pick a horror movie from a studio that just let things twist in the wind. This was actually the last film to be produced by the studio Shintoho. The studio had come around in the late 1940s because of defectors that came from a strike within Toho. They produced movies such as Akira Kurosawa's Stray Dog (1949) but could not exactly compete with the big studios. In the last years of their run before becoming bankrupt, they pumped out a good deal of cheap period ghost movies and sci-fi movies. One of the directors brought on to do a few of those movies was Nobuo Nakagawa. He actually had been directing movies since the 1930s, having risen from amateur film review writing to working in film production. He did comedies, war documentaries, thrillers, and a small amount of ghost/horror movies to go along with work for television, and he directed all the way until near his death in 1984 at the age of 79. The Ghost of Yotsuya (1959) is likely the other movie he is known for. For this film (also known as The Sinners from Hell), he wrote the screenplay with Ichirō Miyagawa. As Miyagawa explained in an interview years later, the two were engaged in a discussion about the "Plank of Carneades" thought experiment in which if one would be of guilty of murder if they pushed a person off a plank to save themselves that happened to coincide with hearing a TV report of a fisherman catching fish in the Tama River that he sold to people rather than eating it due to fears of it being poisoned. One thing leads to another in then talking about Faust and alter egos and having the question asked about having an idea in mind and boom, the two got to work (apparently, the one question the studio had is where the heaven was, since the original mandate was to make a script called "Heaven and Hell" so Miyagawa joked the sequel would be about heaven). The movie was remade in 1979 by Tatsumi Kumashiro and apparently a remake was done in 1999 with Jigoku: Japanese Hell by Teruo Ishii*.

Hell or no hell, you get a visually entertaining time watching this movie eventually unfold the deck of cards that arise in punishment for the wicked. Hell isn't just a realm of torture, it can also be the things that are seen every day on here itself. There are plenty of worthy shots to appreciate and examine in detail for a movie that might as well be a canvas of suffering. The hell sequences take up roughly 40 minutes of the 100-minute runtime, and you have to understand that the movie is basically a morality play, complete with how it is staged. You know how much the actors cared? In the scenes you see of actors in dirt (on a soundstage with no props but plenty of dirt to dig), the actors themselves dug the holes. Of course, when you have a cheap movie, you can do shots with a washtub, a mirror, a stirrer and some colors and make it look like, well, something you can believe in. This also goes for "Needle Hell", which just goes with plastic and lighting to, well, make a place look like a place. It is a disorientating movie to experience and honestly, it is darkly funny if you think about it. You have a guy who has one little thing (being the passenger to a car accident) spring consequence among consequence to the people he ends up encountering from that point on, whether that involves people that fall off bridges, folks getting poisoned from sake, double-strangulation, and people committing suicide. Sure, the people in the movie are, well, people that probably deserve hell, but screw it, I enjoy seeing the strange qualities that come with weird people all getting the curtain thrust upon them. It's like a soap opera but where everyone dies (with one consolation, anyway). 

And then of course there is the whole "hell" thing, presented with bits of gore in illustrating the type of punishment that takes inspiration from Buddhist ideas about hell. Technically speaking, Amachi and Numata are meant to be playing the sides of a coin, with the latter stating that Nakagawa told him that it was "about the outside and inside of a person" (like Faust). Numata was not entirely satisfied with his performance, but I find him to be a very curious presence in this film, since there are certain sequences where he just arises out of the blue like a dark cloud that can only lead to trouble that he handles with odd charm. He looms with a knowing presence of decay that we can see in all of us. Our temptations and the decisions that come from acting on (or not) those things make us who we are and, to those with the soul to do so, where we may end up. The movie sees a bunch of people who made a few choices for themselves rather than others and says, yep, you are all fit for down under. The filmmakers theorized that if it is hard to show psychological torment on screen, you might as well make it a graphic metaphor, although its mechanisms of plight do have an abrupt end in the closing. Sure, it is a crude film that probably won't win everyone over with its pacing at times, but it sure is a devilishly curious time to at least encounter once. It takes its time to really get the footing going, but if you buy into its little play before the showstopping pits of hell, the trip (not literally) will surely be worth it.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

*Speaking of names that might merit consideration down the line. And, oddly enough, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, because I found a Criterion video about Jigoku that featured him talking about the movie. New Directors Month 2026?

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

Review #2417: The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

Cast: 

Terence Stamp (Bernadette Bassenger), Hugo Weaving (Anthony "Tick" Belrose / Mitzi Del Bra), Guy Pearce (Adam Whitely / Felicia Jollygoodfellow), Bill Hunter (Robert "Bob" Spart), Sarah Chadwick (Marion Barber), Mark Holmes (Benjamin "Benji" Barber), Julia Cortez (Cynthia), Alan Dargin (Alan), and Ken Radley (Frank) Written and Directed by Stephan Elliott.

Review: 

“We didn't back down from the Australian-ness of it; we said, ‘This is us. Take us or leave us.’ And the world chose to take it....I think the heart and soul of the film Priscilla, Queen of the Desert that works is that in the midst of all the glitz and glamour and showing off and bitchy lines and great songs, there was a really simple story about a man trying to come out to his son."

Sure, why not. Stephan Elliott (born in Sydney in New South Wales, Australia) had made his debut as a filmmaker with Frauds (1993), having apparently been a filmmaker...of weddings, for several years. Apparently, the wait in getting that film made led to what eventually became Priscilla, specifically a Mardi Gras that he saw a plume of feathers rolling up a street like a tumbleweed. The movie was inspired by three actual drag queens that were intended to be in the movie: Cindy Pastel (Ritchie Finger), Strykermyer (Mark Fitzhugh) and Lady Bump (Stuart Garske). Of course, when Elliott managed to attract interest for a considerable production (millions of Australian dollars, which I'm sure has its own currency stature), it was instead decided to go with "bankable" actors. Various people from Tony Curtis (the Some Like It Hot star was apparently talked out of it by his wife) to David Bowie were floated around. At any rate, Elliot suggested to his friend Andrew Saw to do a documentary on the original trio, which ended up happening with Ladies Please in 1995.* The Australian production, to put it mildly, wound up as an international sensation, even winning Academy Awards for its costume design by Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner (one example was a dress made with "rubber thongs", so here is a visual of that). In 2006, a stage musical premiered in Sydney, with Elliott co-writing the book that has had various productions come around all the world. Elliott has continued to direct over the years, ranging from Easy Virtue (2008) to his latest one with Swinging Safari (2017); he actually announced plans to do a sequel to this film in recent years. Terence Stamp died just a few weeks ago at the age of 87.

Hell, I don't know drag queens that well. I understand it as merely a way for people to express themselves in a world filled with vulnerability all around. Some people do karaoke to the poor drunks at the bar, others put on costumes to play to the lyrics of an ABBA song, the important thing is to be free, at least that is how I would view it. I don't know the bohemian, but it doesn't mean there isn't something that can be gleamed from it with some degree of humor or heart, and this works out pretty well for what you might call a road movie fit for all the misfits. Specifically, it is a movie for people trying to figure out what they really are in the proverbial closet of responsibilities. You've got a person in grief doubting they can find love, one who has a son and a wife he drifted from, and, well, a young man in the flaming arrogancy of youth all trying to make due on the road that isn't necessarily going to be a straight-edge path (hell, you've got folks fainting at one particular sight twice). The darndest thing is that the costumes really are pretty neat, they manage to fit the character in a strangely graceful way, where you could just accept it right then and there that someone will wear a getup filled with shoes in the same way that you'd expect a couple of ping-pong balls could make a creature costume for a sci-fi movie (ironically, the three main actors learned that when in full drag, nobody knew who they were). So yes, it isn't so much an act for the performer as it is a way to just express themselves, and that actually is pretty funny in the hands of a terrific ensemble. Stamp in particular is exquisite, rising above what could've merely been fodder for just delivering zingers and actually making it quite enjoyable to see the plight on screen for the easiest dilemma facing old folk: too many memories and not nearly enough time to see it all through. Simply put, Stamp (initially reluctant but gradually got into it) just sinks right into a performance that is wholly believable in all of the quibbles and charm necessary because damn it, who else could just be Bernadette? Weaving does sell the dilemma that comes with trying to face who they really are beyond hang-ups and see things as they should be, which does eventually work out for its climax when bringing the folks together. Of course, it is Pearce (known at the time for his television work in Neighbours, which had Elliott with some doubts) and his devilishly bold energy that steals the show, whether that involves the sequence with him on top of the bus or just the snappy barbs that come around with Stamp for obvious campy enjoyment, at least to a point. Hunter (a good friend of Stamp) is the last key to the puzzle, and there is something quite infectious about his charm that rolls right alongside the others when he gets involved. In general, the movie is quite infectious in what probably counts as a form of "camp", but I just like seeing the dedication it takes to put on garish stuff and just do it in front of people, flamboyance be damned. The 103 minutes pass on by with little hitches, managing quickly to have you rolling along with these folks, whether that involves their bus being defaced or the sobering sequence where Adam gets beaten up and has a talk with the one who ends up saving him from the harrowing reality that can come with people who look and talk a little different from "the norm", as they say. By the end, you've got a few folks that have become a bit wiser from their journey and had a little bit of fun along the way, and that's a pretty good thing to accomplish. As a whole, it is a nice little road movie that shows the perils of the road in each and every shade alongside the warmth that comes with finding who one really is beyond the mask, which is a pretty funny and sobering accomplishment that nobody really could just see coming from Australia.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Incidentally, that was the same year the movie To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar (1995) came out involving three actors as drag queens on the road. The crew of the Priscilla film heard about the production of that movie but were not too worried about it being a ripoff when they read the script.

The Navigator: A Medieval Odyssey.

Review #2416: The Navigator: A Medieval Odyssey.

Cast: 

Bruce Lyons (Connor), Chris Haywood (Arno), Hamish McFarlane (Griffin), Marshall Napier (Searle), Noel Appleby (Ulf), Paul Livingston (Martin), Sarah Peirse (Linnet), Mark Wheatley (Tog 1), Tony Herbert (Tog 2), Jessica Cardiff-Smith (Esme), and Roy Wesney (Grandpa) Directed by Vincent Ward (#627 - What Dreams May Come)

Review: 

"It's easy to get films made that are more generic. I want my films to be accessible, though I also want to do them on my own terms, and to be about my own concerns as a filmmaker."

Sure, of course New Zealand counts for World cinema, since they do manage to conjure up a few interesting directors and movies from time to time, particularly with this co-production between New Zealand and Australia. Vincent Ward was born in Greytown to a background of farmers (his father] had damaged hands from the war that still maintained his farm). He studied Fine Arts in university but ended up becoming a filmmaker in 1978. He made his feature debut with Vigil (1984) that had come from years of searching for ideal settings to film and in casting; the movie was the first of the country's type to get on the prominent festival circuit. Apparently, the impetus of the next film by Ward started when he tried to cross a German autobahn (a federal controlled-access highway system) and got stranded. Ward wrote the script with Geoff Gapple and Kely Lyons. Made over the course of ten weeks in 1987 with a look that had influence from the Middle Ages (the film utilizes certain shades when it is set in the present day when compared to the black-and-white medieval sequences) to go alongside elaborate shots, the movie only became reality when the Australian Film Commission gave partial funding when the usual way of tax breaks was rejected. Ward didn't exactly become a household name, although it was not really his fault. He was actually the first director tapped to direct Alien 3, as he wrote the treatment that was thoroughly beaten to hell in the final rendition. Instead, Ward followed the Navigator film with Map of the Human Heart (1993). His next batch of films came with What Dreams May Come (1998), River Queen (2005), and Rain of the Children (2008), with the latter being his last released movie. At any rate, he keeps busy with painting and video art.

Whether seen as a fantasy adventure or as seen as movie of keeping one's faith under all circumstances, it is a pretty curious movie that is far more than, well, travelling through time (or do they...). Dream land or not, the atmospheric qualities of the movie come out pretty well in showing the wacked world of a place closed off (in some way) from certain people (one is in 1348, the other, well, in the 20th century), as one does when involving New Zealand, I suppose. It isn't so much that the modern world would look spooky to someone from an older time: nay, it (be it a highway full of many lanes) would look downright hellish, and it really is a bit of destiny to hold it all together for the plight of God and for themselves. The ragtag ensemble is pretty good in conveying the foibles and lingering destiny, mostly on the shoulders of McFarlane, who actually didn't become a regular actor (instead favoring being an assistant director in films and TV), but it is true that they have a wide-eyed appeal here that works for those who understand the zeal that comes in youth. It also reflects well on Lyons (who acted in just one other film), who actually was thought of in mind by one of the co-writers (K.Lyons, who he was married to). It just so happens that the ordinary can look extraordinary in the faces of youth, and that works out to make the ending all the more ironic. It is a moody film that does look really nice while conveying a sense of adventure with its own playing of time and imagery, which does make the 93-minute runtime go off without too many hitches. As a whole, its a movie that reminds one that some folks really believe that faith can override anything, rationales be damned.

 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Rififi.

Review #2404: Rififi.

Cast: 

Jean Servais (Tony "le Stéphanois"), Carl Möhner (Jo "le Suédois"), Robert Manuel (Mario Ferrati), Jules Dassin (César "le Milanais"), Magali Noël (Viviane), Claude Sylvain (Ida), Marcel Lupovici (Pierre Grutter), Robert Hossein (Rémy Grutter), Pierre Grasset (Louis Grutter), Marie Sabouret (Mado), Dominique Maurin (Tonio), and Janine Darcey (Louis) Directed by Jules Dassin (#1043 - The Naked City)

Review: 

'What I loved and really enjoyed was to see the film in public in Paris. All the nice bourgeois people who go to the movies were rooting for these guys to succeed. I had one of the gang hit a single piano key and the audience jumped. When I was writing it, I knew you had to have that rooting interest; the film would work only if I made people want them to succeed. First I introduced the element of friendship, because if you're going to care for the people who are going to be crooks, you have to have some sympathy for them as people. But part of it is also thinking that these guys are real professionals and work well together. It's like wanting a great star to come up to bat and hit a homer.''

It helps to refresh my memory of certain filmmakers. The son of Jewish immigrants from the Russian Empire, Jules Dassin was raised in New York and became involved in acting from a youth with the Yiddish Art Theatre and studied abroad for years. He first became a director with radio plays in the late 1930s before moving to stage plays such as the Children's Theatre. It was around this time that he joined Communist Party USA. Later, he signed to become a studio director for RKO Radio Pictures that saw him work only as an assistant director before Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer eventually had him direct. He made his first film as a short with The Tell-Tale Heart (1941) before Nazi Agent (1942) became his feature debut. Dassin directed eight films for MGM in five years that he felt were fine. However, he soon directed a handful of films in freelance/20th Century Fox that he really felt was his growth, as highlighted by The Naked City (1948) and Night and the City (1950) Unfortunately, Dassin was blacklisted by the 1950s because of his name being connected with organizations connected to the "Communist-front" but at least never appeared before the "Un-American Activities Committee" like some of his peers. He was offered a job in France to direct movies and went with it, although there would be such difficulty in finding work that didn't involve American film distribution companies that his first film there was with Rififi (1955). Dassin directed twelve further movies that concluded with Circle of Two (1981); Dassin died in 2008 at the age of 96. The movie is, shall we say, based on the novel of the same name (okay it actually is known as "Du rififi chez les hommes" but I imagine it makes sense people know it by the shorter title, because the word means fight or bust-up) by Auguste Le Breton, once described as "the prince of argot". Apparently the slang used in the novel irked Dassin, and he once described the book as being "all about Arab bad behavior, including necrophilia", but the small chapter about a heist was interesting enough to whip up a script (incidentally, one praise of the film came from critic-turned-director François Truffaut that said Dassin made the best crime film out of the "worst crime novel I ever read"). The result is as such for writing: Dassin for the adaptation, René Wheeler and Le Breton for collaboration and Le Breton for dialogue. Apparently, the movie was only available on videotape for quite a few decades until a restoration in the 2000s.

 

It is an efficient movie, that's for sure. Dassin made a noir as grey as one could do, one that didn't need a big fistfight or music to convey a stone-cold thriller. Sure, it wasn't the first of its kind with elaborate heists, since the decade started with films such as The Asphalt Jungle (1950; Dassin contended he saw the movie only after making Rififi). You see the streets in winter and see a natural atmosphere of doubt within listless souls. It works pretty well in swift ice-cold entertainment (115 minutes) and it does so with a litany of actors that aren't necessarily big names (well, at least Servais appeared in multiple Dassin movies) but still manage to make the movie roll along with relatively few troubles. It helps the heist sequence was based on an actual burglary in Marseille in 1899, where a hole in the floor was cut of a travel agency's office in order to dig onto a jewel shop while catching the debris with an umbrella to make off with valuables. You just have to see it to believe that a director can make a heist sequence (in the midst of the film, not at the end) seem so fascinating with no need for music or dialogue to make it clear of efficient professionalism*, at least with what you get from these folks. Servais is probably the most dependable of the presences in the film, which is comprised of wayward people trying to make a living that can only find jagged edges with the tiniest bit of hope there even among the rugged flaws that come out in prideful figures in a movie like this; it helps to pay attention to a movie that has fate as the villain lurking behind the thugs, if you think about it. It does make it a bit distinct to have the climax involve a litany of crosses and quick decisions without need for just having authority clamping down even when you know that some crimes don't pay and it has the swiftness to close right down the road as if it would make a worthwhile companion to The Wages of Fear (1953) in sudden fates, if you will. As a whole, this is a pretty neat noir, building its tension and shrouded curiosity to meaningful execution that will prove a worthwhile time down the line for classic world cinema.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

*Incidentally, Dassin's other caper with Topkapi (1964) had a heist sequence that apparently proved some inspiration for the 1966 TV series Mission: Impossible, and the 1996 Mission: Impossible movie in turn featured a scene inspired by Topkapi.

Next in August: a new theme, of sorts...

Pale Flower.

Review #2394: Pale Flower.

Cast: 

Ryō Ikebe (Muraki), Mariko Kaga (Saeko), Takashi Fujiki (Yoh), Naoki Sugiura (Aikawa), Shinichiro Mikami (Reiji), Isao Sasaki (Jiro), Kôji Nakahara (Tamaki), Chisako Hara (Yazuka's Lover), Seiji Miyaguchi (Gang leader Funada), and Eijirô Tôno (Gang Leader Yasuoka) Directed by Masahiro Shinoda (#922 - Himiko)

Review: 

"Reality for its own sake is not what interests me. If my films had to be perfect reconstructions of reality, I would not make them. I begin with reality and see what higher idea comes out of it."

It does seem apt to turn back the clock sometimes and look back to directors not always referred to in the realms of world cinema. So yes, it seemed about time to cover a movie by Masahiro Shinoda. He was born in the city of Gifu and studied at Waseda University to study theater. He worked with Shochiku Studio in 1953 and honed his craft as an assistant director. He made his debut as a director with One-Way Ticket for Love in 1960; he would work with the studio for the first batch of his films. Shinoda worked on over two dozen movies until concluding with Spy Sorge (2003). Among the highlights listed for the director range from Assassination (1964), the original adaptation of the novel Silence in 1971, and Childhood Days (1990); Shinoda died just three months ago this year at the age of 94. With Pale Flower (known as Kawaita hana), the basis for the film was a novel that had been written by Shintaro Ishihara (believe it or not, he decided being a filmmaker wasn't for him and became quite the public politician, for better or worse); Shinoda and Masaru Baba co-wrote the screenplay, with the former writing the first half and the latter writing the second half. The co-producer for the movie was Shigeru Wakatsuki, who had produced The Human Condition trilogy of films [1959-1961] (by this measure, Shinoda was quoted in an interview for Criterion as saying that because of Wakatsuki's involvement and push, Pale Flower wasn't really a Shochiku project and thus this was the first film he learned about independent film production). Shinoda was quoted as saying that he made the film involving yakuza because that world apparently was the only place where the "Japanese ceremonial structure is sustained." Apparently, the methods utilized by Shinoda in emphasizing visuals and sound over dialogue irritated Baba enough that he complained to Shochiku about it (labeling it as "anarchistic", I'm not kidding) that led to several months of delay in releasing the movie (Shinoda later asserted that the film served as a model for the Toei line of yazuka movies), which apparently worked out for it fine anyway.

I suppose a good deal of noirs really do boil down to the face that certain people just cannot escape their destiny. We all are destined to reach the figurative desert to crash and burn at some point in our lives, some are just prepared to end sooner. What we have here is a moody and stark noir that is filled with plenty of moral ambiguity and bleak surroundings for such committed filmmaking. You hear the sights and feel the murky qualities that arise in the puddle of ceremonies and loyalty and, well, gambling. You get to feel what one does to try and capture the feeling of being alive within the snares of killing within the pointlessness of life (consider one of the early lines of the film talking about Tokyo and seeing people crammed into "tiny cage-like boxes" as such "strange animals"). You can feel the despair all around people who clearly aren't going to have a conventional type of end to their metaphorical roads of travel (as for the film itself, it was done in Yokohama). Apparently, Ikebe was curious why Shinoda wanted him to star in the movie, where he apparently was quoted as saying he was "a ham actor", but the director assured him that his type of presence (which for this film has a good deal of walking rather than long lines) would be right for the movie. Kaga just has that strange factor to match Ikebe in self-defeating grace and mystery, one who we can draw ourselves to without knowing that much about in actual fact. Not to simply just cite Shinoda again, but he (and Ishihara) stated that the dynamic between the two is similar to Tristan and Isolde rather than say, Romeo and Juliet. It goes along with a movie where you don't know what you're hearing is music or just sounds (such as say, tap-dancing) for a harsh film where actions are either irrational or just meant to be, if you think about it. Anything can be futile, such as going back to old loves or half-baked hits or so on. The last sequence with the two characters together in the build-up to the hit is particularly a resounding highlight to experience in its stark execution and procedure that might as well be the ending (don't get me wrong, the last sequence does seal up the futility and the ever-lasting hunger succinctly, but you get the idea). As a whole, Pale Flower is a committed bleak noir that is wonderfully shot and executed for a curious time for all involved, a tragedy with crystal-clear maneuverings worth looking into further. 

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.

Gate of Hell.

Review #2393: Gate of Hell.

Cast: 

Kazuo Hasegawa (Endo Morito), Machiko Kyō (Lady Kesa), Isao Yamagata (Wataru Watanabe), Yatarō Kurokawa (Taira no Shigemori), Kōtarō Bandō (Rokuroh), Jun Tazaki (Kogenta), Koreya Senda (Taira no Kiyomori), and Masao Shimizu (Fujiwara no Nobuyori) Directed by Teinosuke Kinugasa (#735 - A Page of Madness)

Review: 

Remember Teinosuke Kinugasa? Well, it seemed appropriate to try and remember the man who gave us A Page of Madness (1926; at the time, people thought the movie was lost). Born in Kameyama, Mie Prefecture, he went from being an actor (at least until the onnagata of men specializing in female roles became less prevalent) to becoming a director who made over a hundred movies from 1922 to 1966, and one of those movies included Gate of Hell [known in Japan as Jigokumon] for Daiei Film. The 1950s saw the dawn of Japan getting to see feature films in glorious color, at least occasionally. Carmen Comes Home (1951), as released by Shochiku, was the first to set that trend. Daiei Film, a studio formed during World War II, had their key place come early. They were behind the production of Akira Kurosawa's Rashomon (1950), the first big piece of a great age for Japanese films going beyond its native country. So, what film did Daiei make for its first color of production? Gate of Hell was based off the play Kesa's Husband by author/publisher Kan Kikuchi (coincidence or not, he actually was the first president of the studio*). The script was written by Teinosuke Kinugasa and Masaichi Nagata (the president of Daiei Film), which is generally put in the "jidaigeki" genre (okay that just translates to period dramas before the Meiji Restoration, which in this case is way way back in the 1100s). The movie was done in Eastmancolor (as one does when having imported film stock) and it so happens that you can watch the film in its restored form for quite some time now. In 1954, the movie was awarded two Academy Awards: the "Honorary Foreign Language Film Award" and for Best Costume Design (back in the days of awarding ones for films in color) to go along with the grand prize at the Cannes Film Festival.

For 86 minutes, one does get a wonderfully curious movie to experience in all of the glances possible, which extends beyond the vivid reds and greens that come across the screen. You might call it a polite sort of tragedy in the slow boil that comes through with this movie, one that allows you to peek behind the curtain of what people seemed to look like in the seemingly quaint times and what really lurks beyond pleasantries and appearances. Sure, those first couple of minutes (call it about 20) are probably the most sluggish in terms of setup, but it is generally worth it after that because of what you will see in the aftermath of conflict that merely leads into the seething-type of conflict. Hasegawa was a prolific actor for over 300 movies in his life, and he does pretty well with this role that an actor would love to have play out on the stage in his unnerving conviction that plays out here. It isn't so much that he is playing a villain as much as you are watching a creature wrapped in lust and obsession that might as well fit the title of the film. Sure, you could label him as just an obsessed creep, but you have to understand that his plight is not exactly helped by the people around him (in terms of samurais, remember). Kyō (speaking of prolific actresses, she was in Rashomon) does quite well with showing the terror that comes across in being wrapped in a situation of an unwieldly triangle that isn't really love on all sides and also isn't easy to simply untangle from (in contrast, one sees a calm Yamagata, at least for one living in such polite surroundings involving samurai that isn't just taking up a sword). Wishes to acquire others are thought to be what you might call quaint rather than, well, pick any other word besides "odd", but you do get to see from one person the true meaning of sacrifice. If it wasn't already stressed to you, it is a pretty movie to watch, one that strikes you with its colors in vivid nature that remind you what it means to look and feel what a film is trying to convey to you about people and surroundings that make for a vibrant experience. It has its highs and lows in pacing, but it never stumbles in being a worthwhile film worth a close eye.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

*Incidentally, he is the namesake of an award for achievement in Japanese literary culture.