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Audition (Takashi Miike - 1999)
Takashi Miike must be one of the most prolific filmmakers ever to weild a camera. His output varies wildly from film to film in terms of quality, but you have to admire someone who's averaged four films a year for the last twenty years. While Miike has done everything from kids films to musical with zombies (don't ask) much of what he does tends towards the horrific, and Audition is a pretty disturbing entry in a filmography filled with examples of extreme cinema such as Visitor Q. The protagonist is Shigeharu Aoyama - a lonely middle-aged widower looking to remarry. His colleague at the film production company the two work at suggests holding a fake audition to cast actresses for a non-existent film so that Aoyama can meet some of them for dates. He spots Asami - the most demure actress at the auditions and asks her out for dinner. That's where the trouble begins. On the surface Asami may seem a retiring, shy sort but in fact she's an extremely disturbed young woman and not at all what Aoyama imagines her to be, although Miike is careful to build this alternative picture of her gradually in a series of strange scenes where things are slightly off-kilter. Something's not right here, but we're not quite sure what. Without giving too much away the mood gets darker and more sinister as the film progresses and to one of the most disturbing final scenes in recent memory, which will have you squirming in your seat. You have been warned. |
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Fires on The Plain (Kon Ichikawa - 1959)
Based on the novel 'Nobi' by Shohei Ooka, Fires on The Plain follows Tamura - a private in the Japanese army suffering from tuberculosis and desperately trying to stay alive during the latter stages of the second world war on the island of Leyte in the Philippines. With little or no equipment and soul crushing conditions, Tamura rquests help from the high command and is told to commit suicide if he can't get help from the nearest hospital. Off he goes with a couple of yams and the rest of the film is concerned mostly with the apalling deprivation and desperate conditions Tamura and the other soldiers in the squad he meets up with have to endure, many of them even resorting to cannibalism. This is just about the grimmest war film you're ever likely to come across. It's obvious that authenticty was of paramount importance here, not only to director Kon Ichikawa, but to the whole cast and crew. None of the cast washed, or cut their nails or hair for the length of the production, and were given limited rations of food, the lead actor not even eating those meagre portions sometimes, and falling gravely ill due to malnutrition. Ichikawa's film achieves a realism that is almost palpable, and his decision to use black and white photography was definitely the right one. If you're after a devastating look at the true cost of war then this is one of the very best examples you could find. |
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Hana-Bi (Takeshi Kitano - 1997)
One of the most consistently impressive directors in modern cinema Takeshi Kitano is almost unheard of outside his native Japan. Many of his films centre round petty criminals or gangsters and the police whose job it is to oppose them. Starting with Violent Cop, and following that with the idiosyncratic Sonatine, Hana-Bi (roughly translated here as Fireworks) is perhaps his most stylistically successful film, and a culmination of the themes and ideas of the films that have led up to this. It stars Kitano again as a violent cop, Nishi, who's wife is suffering from terminal luekemia. A series of unfortunate events results in his partner being paralysed and his resignation from the force. To cap it all there are loan sharks after him. Nishi is not the happiest of campers, and all he wants is to spend some happy time with his wife in her dying days. As with most Kitano films there are long stretches of nothing much happening, or some larking about interspersed with short bursts of extreme violence, such as when the some gangsters interrupt Nishi when he's with his wife, or when we see brief flashbacks of the shooting of his friend. Kitano's style is somewhat Bressonian - we are afforded just enough information as is absolutely necessary to propel things forward. Everything is stripped down to its essential elements. Even the central performances are pared to the bone; Nishi doesn't talk much, and his wife is almost mute. In Kitano's world actions always speak louder than words. Visually and aesthetically speaking though Takeshi Kitano has a very distinctive voice. |
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The Human Condition (Masaki Kobayashi - 1959-1961)
This is a trilogy of films following the life of Kaji, a Japanese pacifist and socialist, as he tries to survive the trials and tribulations he faces during the second world war. In the first film, Kaji marries his sweetheart and is sent to manage a forced labour camp where he tries and fails in his attempt to treat the prisoners iin his charge with humanity instead of cruelty. In the second film Kaji is conscripted into the Japanese army who eventually fall to the Soviets. In the third he's captured by the Red Army, tortured and eventually escapes. He then sets off on an arduous journey across a winter wasteland in search of his wife. The trilogy clocks in at a whopping nine hours and forty-seven minutes and if that sounds like too much to endure let me assure you it could have been another couple of hours longer and I would have been perfectly happy. The most moving and humanistic depiction of one man's struggle against adversity I've ever seen, and one of the most impressive all-round achievements in world cinema for my money. Kurosawa regular Tatsayua Nakadai here gives one of the greatest performances you're ever likely to see. |
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Sansho The Bailiff (Kenji Mizoguchi - 1954)
Set in medieval fuedal Japan this epic story begins with a governor being banished from his position because of his sympathy for the peasants over which he rules. His wife and two children set out to join him but are beset by bandits who sell the wife into prostitution and the children into slavery. The majority of the film focusses on the plight of the children, now slaves to the merciless Sansho, and details their miserable existence at his hands over many years. The boy Zushiô is the emotional core of the film, and his odyssey from innocent child, through uncaring henchman and final redemption is masterfully depicted. This is one of the most impressive and enjoyable film experiences there is to be had from any corner of the globe, and from any era. Mizoguchi directs with a fine attention to detail, and deals with issues of family, loyalty, separation and suffering with a deep humanism, a deft touch, and a wonderful eye for compositon. A powerful film featuring fully drawn characters, wonderfully played by great actors, under the guidance of a director who was at the top of his game. It doesn't get much better than this. |
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Tokyo Twilight (Yasujiro Ozu - 1957)
Two sisters, Akiko and Takako, live with their father in Tokyo. Takako has returned to the family home after an unsuccessful marriage and Akiko soon falls pregnant to a local gigolo who cares nothing for her. While seeking funds for an abortion Akiko learns the truth about her mother who is not in fact dead, and that the man she's spent her life with may not be her real father. This is powerful, dark material Ozu is dealing with - especially surprising considering the time it was made, when a lot of the issues raised here were taboo. The performances are uniformly excellent, and the cinematography is lovely - this would be Ozu's last black and white film. It's a very naturalistic film which deals with similar events as you might find in a soap opera, but which is never sensationalised or trivialised. Ozu's formal shooting style and perfect framing make this an engrossing experience. Ozu made many similarly themed films throughout his career, but Tokyo Twilight is one of the most accessible for those unfamiliar with such a slow and meticulous style of filmmaking. |
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Vengeance Is Mine (Shohei Imamura - 1979)
The true story of serial killer Akira Nishiguchi is brought to life with chilling realism by Japanese maverick Shohei Imamura. Ken Ogata plays the murdering fraudster who slides through the film killing when the need arises with absolutely no remorse. The killer's backstory is shown in a series of flashbacks illustrating the life of deprivation he experienced, leading up to his current dim view of the world and the people in it. This was quite a shocking film because of its depiction of the murders in such a flat, mundane way, and the total lack of empathy the main character displays towards his fellow man. It's not difficult to see this as the inspiration for John McNaughton's Henry: Portrait of A Serial Killer - a film that owes everything to Immamura. Henry and Nishiguchi are both cut from the same cloth, and are two of the most disturbing characters ever committed to film. Another disturbing aspect of this film is the way Nishiguchi continually confounds the police - this is one film where you're not rooting for the protagonist to get away with it. Ogata is outstanding in the lead role and Imamura lives up to his reputation as one of the most interesting and fearless directors to come out of Japan. |
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Woman In The Dunes (Hiroshi Teshigahara - 1964)
This film is just plain weird, in a way that only the Japanese seem able to be. We open with a scene of a young man collecting insects in a desert area. Nearby villagers offer him a place to stay after he misses his last bus back to the city, and it turns out to be not much more than a hole carved out of the desert floor - a giant sand pit with a rope ladder inviting him into its depths. Apprehensive but intrigued he descends into the sandy dwelling and meets the woman who lives in this strange abode. She's very friendly and attends to all his needs, even fanning him while he eats the dinner she's prepared for him then he settles in for the night. So far so good. When he awakens the next morning though he finds that the rope ladder has disappeared and there is no other way out of the pit. Strange. And also strange that the woman is shovelling sand to be winched up to the villagers. Apparently this must be done or the house, and the neighbouring houses will be in danger. Besides, there's good money to be made selling the sand to the constuction industry. Of course there is. And so the man finds himself trapped in this bizarre siuation with this odd woman for all eternity it would seem. If only he had caught his bus! The genius of this film is the realistic way everything is portrayed, even as little of it makes much logical sense. It's a parable, much like the one of Sisyphus pushing his rock up the mountain forever, and asks the age old question do you live to work or work to live? As with all the great films, not only do they probe the human condition, but they do it with great technical virtuosity and Woman In The Dunes also offers up some exquisite black and white cinematography and also a memorable score. One of the greatest of all Japanese films, and that's saying something. |
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Zatoichi (Takeshi Kitano - 2003)
Another 'Beat' Takeshi Kitano film, and in this one he has a stab at reworking the 'chambara' genre with an update of the Blind Swordsman story. Kitano himself, sporting a bleached white head of hair for no discernible reason, plays the title role with his usual unyielding style and mixes it with a nice sense of the absurd. He once again plays a man of little words - at this point it would seem absurd to have him be any other way. He's a blind swordsman who we see dispatching a gang of robbers at the beginning of the film with ruthless efficiency. He wanders into a neighbouring village run by corrupt officials and a band of gangsters. No prizes for guessing what's about to happen when Zatoichi gets entangled in their affairs. The action scenes are short and sweet, with lots of cgi blood-spurts and flying limbs, and there's a wonderful sense of humour running throughout the film, with villagers having the odd accident with those big unweildy swords, and the occasional maniac hurtling through the frame screaming at the top of his lungs for no apparent reason. However, this all pales when compared to the Brazilian riverdance all the villagers break into at the end of the film, which just tops the whole thing off on a truly bizarre note. A hugely enjoyable chunk of fun, and one of Kitano's most delightfully well realised projects in years. |
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