JFF16 - Bunny Drop

うさぎドロップ Sabu (Hiroyuki Tanaka), 2011

As I wrote before, this year’s Japanese Film Festival program boasted an abundance of tear-jerking dramas and love stories. During volunteer shifts I had to opportunity to test the limits of my endurance with several of these films, but Bunny Drop was one I actively went after (as did many: it sold out), for no other reason than it stars Japan’s most famous child actress Mana Ashida. The unbelievably adorable Mana-Chan was all over Japanese TV when I was there this time last year, singing, dancing and charming everyone on variety shows and New Year’s specials. Her acting resume continues to snowball, both on TV and in film, and I was surprised to learn, she actually is a pretty amazing actress.

Adhering to the Japanese Film Industry’s now unshakeable Manga-Anime-Live Action sequence of adaptation, Bunny Drop is about a family who discovers that their recently deceased Grandfather had a six year old daughter that none of them knew about. How they failed to notice this (for six years, at that!) is either a testament to Mana-Chan’s hide-and-seek skills, or more likely, a damning comment on how we should all visit our grandparents more often. Anyway, with the six year-old Rin now fatherless and the mother seemingly out of the picture, thirty year-old, single office worker Daikichi, much to his family’s shock, volunteers somewhat naïvely, to raise his six year-old Aunty.

It’s a pretty conventional story, filled with coming-of-age/suddenly-a-parent/odd-couple plot devices and clichés, but I thought the film was a satisfying little one, thanks mostly due to the main actors, Mana Ashida and Kenichi Matsuyama. They work together very well, but it’s Mana-Chan who steals the show. Her performance, growing from quiet, shy orphan to bright and lively youngster is a strong and quite believable one, which for me, was never too sickly sweet (although I’m sure some would argue against that). The film was however, surprisingly free of conflict. It feels very “Safe” the whole time. It’s made clear that Daikichi makes sacrifices at work, but these don’t seem to affect him negatively at all. In fact, giving up his desk job to work in the shipping warehouse results in him making friends who are more fun and reliable than the suits upstairs. Rin has trouble making friends at kindergarten, but it’s almost an annoying inclusion, as we know that no-one could resist that face for long. And if that wasn’t enough, Daikichi even manages to get reasonably cosy with a young model love interest, without even trying! It’s almost like this movie comes equipped with a free safety net. Sub plots that would normally carry huge weight, including a visit from a Child Welfare worker and the tracking down of Rin’s biological mother are dealt with quickly and without mess, and surprisingly even without tears. The underdone nature of such sub-plots results in an exceedingly linear film with very few peaks and troughs. Rin and Daikichi’s relationship is one of unnaturally constant understanding, with little to no scolding, discipline or even “I’m never speaking to you again!” or “You’re not my real father!” moments, which could easily be expected in this type of film.

While this might all sound like huge criticism, I never actually found myself bored while watching the film. It’s definitely not perfect, it’s not particularly original, and it won’t change your life, but it’s just an easy, nice, heart-warming story. And it is for these reasons which I’m sure just as many people will hate it as those who love it. Maybe I’m just star struck by the pint-sized Mana-Chan, whose screen presence is undeniable, but I still enjoyed this movie and I don’t care who knows it.

JFF16 - Rurouni Kenshin

るろうに剣心 Keishi Otomo, 2012

Rurouni Kenshin is without a doubt, THE blockbuster of JFF16. The first screening in Sydney quickly sold out, with a second announced to meet demand. And wouldn’t you know it, the exact same thing happened in Melbourne. There is some serious buzz around this movie, most likely a combination of the fact that it was a huge smash hit in Japan and is also an adaptation of the Manga and Anime series. As usual, I had never read, seen or in this case even heard of the source material. So I went along to watch it just to see what all the fuss was about… And I’ve gotta say I have no problem whatsoever in dumping this one in the “Big, Boring Blockbuster” category, along with other 2012 entries The Dark Knight Rises and The Hunger Games (that’s right, come get me).

Himura Kenshin (Takeru Sato) is an assassin of legendary skill who leaves behind his violent ways upon the advent of Japan’s Meiji Era. Wandering the land as an itinerant samurai, Kenshin offers protection to Kaoru Kamiya (Emi Takei, who we last saw in Takashi Miike’s For Love’s Sake), a young girl whose Swordfighting Dojo is being threatened by a bunch of local bullies. Other characters then start turning up, including Megumi Takani (Yu Aoi) who has managed to escape evil villain Kanryu Takeda’s clutches and opium manufacturing operations. The underdeveloped and uninteresting characters come thick and fast; with Kenshin the quiet, softly spoken hero at the centre. I had to look up their names again, because they really weren’t interesting enough to remember. The main story however, is centred on Kenshin, who is haunted by the violence of his past, in the form of a big violent bad guy who is out to kill him for some reason.

Maybe if I had read the Manga or seen the Anime, I would understand the story better, or appreciate some of the inclusions of characters that otherwise felt completely unnecessary. But if this adaptation can’t stand on its own merit, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s a failure. Two or three characters in the supporting cast offered a few desperately needed laughs, and even received an uproarious applause from the sold out crowd, but I found the acting to be completely bland across the board. Takeru Sato was clearly cast for his good looks, as close ups of his handsome yet emotionless face and impossibly perfect skin are frequent. I found him completely unbelievable as a samurai, and he seemed to wander through the film dazed and confused, like he’d walked onto the wrong set. Teruyuki Kagawa as the cigar-smoking criminal mastermind is agonizingly bad, letting his lower jaw carry him through his scenes, and pretty much everyone else isn’t given enough screen time to actually do anything, thus resulting in a cast of pretty faces and not much else, in a film that takes itself way too seriously.

The fight scenes also failed to deliver for me. Some of the jumping and spinning around in was fun, particularly in the scene with Kenshin and the swaggering Street Fighter, but frenzied camerawork ensured that I tuned out almost completely until the fight ended. Although I quite enjoyed some of the dark, more modern music that underscores the action scenes, the swordplay would have been much more effective had the camera simply stayed in one place. The storming of the villainous estate in the film’s final act was the most successful part of the film, due to being one of pure spectacle. Like a classic kung-fu film or video-game, Kenshin and co’s progression through each room and villain, until they finally reach the big boss at the end, was a reasonably exciting ending to a film that is otherwise constantly flat-lining.

I don’t have much else to say. What you’ve got here is just a classic case of shiny but lifeless blockbuster. Of course the huge budget ensures that the locations, sets, costumes etc. are all perfect, but you can’t hide a shit movie behind that. I really was quite bored by this film. It didn’t make me want to read the Manga or watch the Anime, and there are plenty of “Lone Samurai” films out there with much more interesting characters, more heart and better action. Maybe if the film had spent less time trying to squeeze in all the characters I’m assuming have big fan bases thanks to the Manga, they could have created a film more accessible to causal viewers. But of course, this film’s success will no doubt ensure we see a plethora of equally dull sequels. Unless you’re a fan of the original stories, I wouldn’t bother with this one.

JFF16 - Tenchi: The Samurai Astronomer

天地明察 Yojiro Takita, 2012 

When I first looked over this year’s film festival program, one film jumped out at me before any of the others. Tenchi: The Samurai Astronomer. The reason being that it is Yojiro Takita’s latest film. Takita directed the hugely popular and successful 2008 film Departures, which ended up winning the Academy award for best Foreign Film. It’s a brilliant movie, and one that has become something of a fail-safe recommendation for me. Everyone I know who has seen it enjoyed it, thanks in part to its combination of universal themes as well as its insight into less-seen aspects of traditional Japanese culture. After such a runaway hit, I was very interested to see how Takita’s next film would fare.

The film is set in 17^th century Japan, during the country’s period of self imposed isolation from the world. This relatively peaceful time means that our hero Yasui Santetsu (The titular “Tenchi”, a name by which he is never referred…confusing) is a samurai in name only. Santetsu prefers to spend his time solving puzzles; studying mathematics and playing Go (think Japanese Chess). His mathematical prowess sees him selected by local Shoguns/retainers/other political types (I’m clearly not an expert on Japanese feudal hierarchies) to help reform the calendar, which despite being in use for over eight hundred years, has gradually revealed discrepancies in its predictions of lunar cycles.

Santetsu is not without his detractors however; as smug political bigwigs in Kyoto make it their business to stifle Santetsu’s efforts, because challenging the emperor and his decisions is just not on. As far as I can tell, the film is based on a true story, and it’s quite interesting seeing a more scientific and political side of feudal Japan. However the peaceful era results in a film that is just a little bit too cute. Smiling and sighing is an annoying mainstay throughout, and the vast majority of the characters are polite, hardworking noblemen. Very few swords are drawn here. I realised not long after the film started that I had seen main actor Junichi Okada playing a very similar not-quite-samurai role in Hana Yori Mo Naho, an almost unbearably boring film by the otherwise proficient Hirokazu Koreeda. Okada has a bit more to do here, but I fear his typecasting may have already begun.

Highlights of a large supporting cast were prolific, veteran actors Takashi Sasano and Ittoku Kishibe. Their roles as mentors to Santetsu on his first expedition to chart the stars were for me, the most memorable of the entire film, capturing a real camaraderie of old mates out on a camping trip, bantering along while ensuring their job gets done. This section of the film is shot on some of the most amazing locations I’ve ever seen in a film; an untouched, rural Japan that will take your breath away. The “boys on a mission” style of the film is maintained quite well, with developments and discoveries concerning the mysteries of the calendar often quite exciting. Takita’s use of montage for these scenes is also brilliant. Simple, classic Hollywood style montage- the kind you don’t see very often anymore, is suddenly new and exciting again when applied to an obscure chapter of history and accompanied by Joe Hisaishi’s score, which is nice, and as usual, effective, but just sounds exactly like Joe Hisaishi (someone buy this guy a synth or something).

In between these effective “business” moments, there is unfortunately quite a bit of dead time. My aforementioned favourite characters didn’t make a further appearance in the film’s two and a half our run-time, and quite a few of the supporting actors felt unnecessary. Aoi Miyazaki is fine as the token female in what certainly is a Man’s world, giving a good performance as Santetsu’s devoted partner and love interest. But I think many small subplots could have been removed in order to tighten this picture up. The political oppression from Kyoto never really feels like a threat (thanks in part to their outlandish yet historically accurate makeup), and the resolution of the film’s final scene can be seen coming a mile off. Santetsu is just too nice a character in a representation of the past just that bit too rose-coloured, for us to believe that anything truly bad will happen to him. I was glad however, that even though the film was quite long, it at least ended where it should have, rather than churning out epilogue after epilogue as is so common in historical films.

It’s an interesting story, and a Takita remains a strong director, but unlike Departures, this is the kind of movie you’ll only need to watch once. Some melodramatic moments will make you wince, and while glimpses of beautiful humanness are achieved, Tenchi: the Samurai Astronomer doesn’t reach the emotional heights or life affirming beauty of Departures. Which is fine really, as it’s a completely different style of movie, but I daresay Tenchi won’t receive a general release here due to his more limited appeal.

JFF16 - AKB48: The Show Must Go On

少女たちは傷つきながら、夢を見る Eiki Takahashi, 2012

I’ll be honest. This was the film I was looking forward to the most; the documentary of the unbelievably popular J-pop girl group AKB48. But let’s get one thing straight first; I am most definitely not a fan of this music. The idea of 48 young girls dancing around in skimpy schoolgirl outfits squeaking like Anime characters isn’t really something that appeals to me. But it’s undeniable, the group is a stroke of marketing genius, and has become a worldwide phenomenon. I was hoping this documentary would shed some light on the inner workings of the group, to see beyond the “let’s dance around in our underwear” music videos and to maybe better understand the appeal of this musical monstrosity.

(Please note, while the film does contain many talking heads and insights into individual members of the group, I will be referring to very few, if any at all, by name. Purely for the fact that there are just too many of them and I can’t keep up.)

The film opens with a recounting of the March 2011 Earthquake and Tsunami disaster. Concerts were cancelled as a result, and trips out to affected areas to perform for locals were scheduled. Various members of the group speak about their feelings at the time and how they wanted to do something to help, while footage of the girls on buses captures their shocked expressions at the destruction around them. At first I was worried that the whole film would be centred around these young idols meeting affected locals, weeping and marvelling at their unshakeable perseverance in the face of adversity, but these visits and small charity concerts are only one part of the documentary, and I was quite glad it avoided descending into what could have easily become a skewed perspective of a national tragedy. Although I did scoff at the some of the girls’ sentiments, there is no denying the faces of their fans, many of them little kids, singing along in the rain in front of the makeshift concert stages.

I found the inclusion of these charity drive scenes to be a bit problematic. Sure, such a popular group is obviously going to be a huge morale boost, but to me it just seemed a bit exploitative, like it was more for their own publicity… But anyway, let’s not get into politics. After the first charity scene, we started getting to the good stuff.

Ok. So from what I understand (which is very little), there are actually way more than 48 members. All the girls are split into different groups, and each group has its own team captain. When the time comes around to record a new single and music video, the 48 girls are decided on by the fans, who vote for their favourites. The girls attempt to increase their popularity with fans by appearing in magazines, landing roles in TV series, and appearing on talk shows, among other things. Ultimately, one girl will become the “centre girl”, achieving the ultimate popularity, while other rises and falls in rank throughout are commonplace. If this all sounds like some sick hierarchical meat market thinly veiled with musical pretence, that’s because it is. The “election” is held in a massive stadium, with a booming crowd carrying on like spectators in a Roman coliseum awaiting first blood. As the results are announced, the girls take to the stage to accept their trophies. This bizarre atmosphere quickly got even freakier when one girl, so overwhelmed at having been chosen, began hyperventilating on stage. I could only laugh in shock/disbelief. It was just all so serious that it became scary. I quickly realised that this was but the tip of the iceberg. Nearly every girl who was announced broke down and began crying their eyes out, while acceptance speeches with sentiments like “Even though I was selected I’m sure there are many people who hate me. But please don’t ever stop loving AKB” kicked the scene into another level of terrifying. Another brilliant election scene is included later in the film, again taking the form of a ridiculously overblown spectacle: A stadium game of “Rock, paper, scissors”. Sure, I mean, let’s face it, apart from maybe an Iron Chef cook off, this has got to be the fairest way to decide such important matters.

But we were just getting started. A large middle section of the documentary is devoted to the group’s sold out concerts at Saitama’s Seibu Dome. After the first concert is described as one that “Totally sucked” both by team captains and the group’s illustrious director/producer Yasushi Akimoto (a figure who is interestingly, largely absent from the film), the girls take it upon themselves to work harder and put on the best show they can for their fans.

However, they nearly kill themselves in the process.

One girl describes backstage as “war… pandemonium”. She’s not kidding. Hyperventilation is back with a vengeance, crew members console and apply ice packs, girls start dropping like flies, collapsing from exhaustion or heat, wander around backstage, delirious and speaking incoherently, clutching their oxygen cans for fear of ceasing to breathe altogether. Centre girl Atsuko Maeda is carried away on a stretcher, putting the show’s final number in jeopardy. With 20 seconds til stage time, she makes it out, but her exhaustion is obvious. It was like being unable to look away from a car crash. The hard work these girls put in is astonishing to the point of being ridiculous, and you must keep reminding yourself that the average age is only 17.

The film covers a lot of ground, probably too much even. Less engaging side stories I haven’t mentioned include the formation of a new, smaller team, and the subsequent suspension of its captain (she broke the “No dating rule” tsk tsk.) and the arrival of a new member from the earthquake stricken area. The film is driven by interviews with many individual girls, which is great, as it helps to make such a massive group seem a lot less faceless. Their thoughts on a wide range of issues including popularity and success range from hilariously naïve to surprisingly insightful. I really enjoyed seeing a certain couple of girls who admitted that they would never become the most popular, but were perfectly content to be extras in video clips, observing the higher ranked girls from afar, while hanging out together just having fun on the set.

There were many moments in this film where I thought, this can’t be real. It was both fascinating and terrifying at the same time, with many freaky “only in Japan” moments. Focusing on the girls as individuals was the best choice for director Takahashi, and I was glad there were no songs performed in their entirety (go buy a CD if you want that). In the end, the film is a fascinatingly compelling documentary, equal parts fairy-tale, musical, comedy and horror, with an almost non stop flow of tears. Everything I had hoped for and more.

Can’t wait for the hilariously titled 2013 follow up: “No Flower without Rain”

 

"Show Must Go On" Trailer. No subtitles, but you hardly need them.

JFF16 - Love Strikes!

モテキ Hitoshi Ōne, 2011

First film up, chosen purely for the reason that I wasn’t rostered on to do any volunteering this night. Love Strikes! is an adaptation of a Manga and TV drama series (surprise, surprise) about thirty year old Yukiyo Fujimoto. A typical slacker/loser/man-child who has zero skills with the ladies. The film follows the commencement of his “Moteki” a Japanese slang word that refers to a time in one’s life in which you receive a surge of interest from the opposite sex. The awkward and self loathing Fujimoto finds himself suddenly surrounded by women and does his best to navigate his way through this terrifying new chapter of his life.

Fujimoto’s pop-philosophical voice over tirade gets the film off to a strong start. His musings on famous quotes about love, as well as himself and his failings are fast, funny and intelligent, and are a welcome element through the film. It is his bouncing between rapid-fire antics and depressed moping that drives this film, and actor Mirai Moriyama has really got his pathetic self-deprecation down pat. Fujimoto is at his most interesting when he is thrown into awkward situations, whether it be with his vast array of work-mates (a great supporting cast) or awkwardly cracking onto a girl, it was great fun to see whether he would sink or swim. Scratch that, it was great fun to see him sink. Often.

Sex comedy tropes including drunken nights out, misunderstood text messages, sleazy bosses and awkward sexual encounters give this film some genuinely funny Judd Apatow style moments, while also remaining grounded in a very contemporary setting. Social media, particularly Twitter is the communication method of choice and source of many a joke (“You have 34,000 tweets but only 3 followers??”), and characters frequent music festivals and work jobs writing for blogs and websites while managing their online identities. This representation of hip young things with minimal responsibility was something I haven’t seen a lot of in Japanese movies (J-Dramas aren’t my thing) and gave this film a certain freshness for me.

Given its youthful characters and modern setting, music also plays a big role in the film, just as it does in many American rom-com equivalent films like Reality Bites or even 500 Days of Summer (Yuck). Fujimoto’s favourite tracks are waiting on his iPhone to comfort him, the character of Rumiko frequents Karaoke alone, and I was pleasantly surprised at the inclusion of a full song and dance number by Perfume, the one J-Pop band that DOESN’T make me want to go Reservoir Dogs on my own ears. In fact, idol groups are critiqued in a hilarious scene where the rejected Fujimoto regains his confidence after listening to J-Pop girl bands on YouTube. Another character derides him for his ignorance, explaining that the sugary lyrics are written for the sole purpose to fool idiots like him into confessing their love. Little moments like this strengthen the script and really deliver on the laughs, but the most successful comedic device is the use of karaoke style lyrics superimposed onto the screen. An ordinary scene is transformed into one of those terrible slow motion video clips that accompany karaoke. This is an ingenious gag that is used to great effect on more than one occasion.

Unfortunately, all the things that make this film so funny and enjoyable are almost completely absent from the second half of the film. You can almost pinpoint the exact moment when well written comedy is replaced for clichéd melodrama and laughs are replaced with tears. It was like watching a completely different film! Characters I had been enjoying became repulsive, and a film I had been regularly laughing out loud in became a dreadful chore. By the end, I really didn’t care who ended up with who or how they got there. Some might argue that it was just logical character development, but for me it was more like character regression. The karaoke gag doesn’t make a comeback, fun pop culture references are discarded, and the film meanders around in circles until it finally reaches its very unsatisfying and predictable conclusion. I was quite dumbfounded actually. Where did the tongue-in-cheek song and dance scenes go? Was the first half the funny half; the second half the serious?

It’s a shame that a film that could be so fun could so quickly become so painful. Director Hitoshi Ōne surely faced challenges cramming an extended manga/drama story into a shortened form, but by cramming all the good stuff in the first half, he just dropped the ball. I ended up having trouble sitting through it, wishing the overly long two hour run time would hurry up and wrap already. There is lots of stuff to like here, but it’s unevenness makes this quite a mixed bag, unfortunately.

16th Japanese Film Fest!

スタート！

It certainly has been a long time between posts, something that will no doubt be replaced with a fast and furious barrage of writing thanks to the 16^th Japanese Film Festival, which started its Melbourne leg last Thursday. What would ordinarily mean lots of movie watching (a record 40+ films are being screened this year) will be augmented by the fact that I am volunteering, and as such, will be watching/sitting through a whole bunch of films I wouldn’t ordinarily go out of my way to see.

A festival as big as this is obviously aiming to reach the widest possible audience, so the program is focused mainly on box office successes and crowd pleasers from the past year. Unfortunately for me this means that horror movies and bizarre cult oddities have been more or less abandoned in favour of dramas, weepies and chick flicks.

What has me incredibly excited however is the Melbourne exclusive retrospective of 50s/60s director Yasuzo Masamura. Six of his films will be screening FOR FREE at the Australian Centre for the Moving Image, Federation Square, and is going to be a great opportunity to check out some stuff that may otherwise be unavailable outside of Japan.

Opening night kicked off with a number of speeches and a pretty much sold out screening of Thermae Romae (テルマエ・ロマエ), which was actually much more enjoyable than I was expecting. Hiroshi Abe’s comedic performance had some brilliant moments in this far fetched, time travel tale of Ancient Rome/Modern Japan crossover. Throw in some hilarious use of opera, a self-aware sense of humour and the super cute Aya Ueto and you’ve got a filmic love letter to the power of the bathhouse- and a pretty spot on choice for an opening night screening.

I have my tickets booked for six or seven films, and have decided to only write about the ones I actually sit down and watch from start to finish, rather than simply sit in on as a volunteer, which will make it easier on me in that there will be less to write and will save me from voicing the many reasons why Until the Break of Dawn (ツナグ) was the biggest load of melodramatic claptrap I have seen in a long while.

So stay tuned for some thoughts and musings on a bunch of upcoming films; which at this stage are looking like they will range from comedy, drama, action, documentary and one film I’m hoping will deliver at least a little bit of some much needed horror!

And grab ticket info from http://www.japanesefilmfestival.net/

Berserk: Egg of the King

ベルセルク覇王の卵 Toshiyuki Kubooka, 2012

ReelAnime 4/4

I was saving Berserk for last. Right off the bat, I had a gut feeling it would be the one I would enjoy the least. It just looked like a mindless medieval battle movie adapted from a mindless medieval battle manga/anime. It seems to me like Berserk has never really been as popular as it is in Japan, I had never really heard of it, except through the music of Susumu Hirasawa, who provided soundtracks for the anime series (his sounds are amazing and body of work staggering, check him out), and I rarely get into anime series anyway because they usually tend to drag on a bit for me. At least this Berserk movie would be bearable because they will condense it into film length and drop all the filler right?

The film is set an unspecified kingdom/land, but a blind man could see the medieval Europe inspiration. From the get go then, we have knights in shining armour on horseback, battling with swords - all the while yelling and carrying on in Japanese like it’s nobody's business. But this is no off putting anachronism; in fact, it’s kind of fascinatingly that this works. The question of believability never really enters into the equation and we are swept up into this bizarre east-meets-west alternate history. The hero of our tale is a swaggering warrior named Guts. I thought for a while that this was a joke, but no, his name is actually GUTS. He is an arrogant brawn over brains style fighter with a sword quite literally as long as he is tall (paging Dr. Freud…?). Guts appears to be working for some kind of clan/guild, but doesn’t really seem to have any strong allegiances. After his gratuitous display of power is spotted by some skilled warriors during a siege upon an enemy castle, Guts is ambushed, bested in battle and persuaded to join their crew. The leader of this group is called Griffin, a mysterious “dude looks like a lady” warrior with an equally mysterious egg necklace. It is from this McGuffin that our film takes its name and not much else.

I didn’t really understand just what all these warriors are actually doing. They are battling each other, but the reasons why are unclear. I thought maybe Griffin and his gang were a bunch of bandits, fighting the powers that be, but this theory was quickly dashed with a scene in which Griffin meets with the king and cracks onto his incredibly clichéd “I detest violence” princess daughter. From what I gather though, Griffin ropes Guts into his team so as to remove him as an obstacle from his quest to seize the throne. Over time, Guts is played by his friend, as he begins to learn of Griffin’s true nature. The film only runs for about an hour and twenty minutes, so just when the plot started not only thickening but taking some twists and turns, and I really found myself getting interested in the story, it was over! By that stage I was quite surprised at myself to think that I would have happily sat through another hour and a half of this blood and swords bonanza. Gutted. 

I think this fast and furious duration is what detracted from the film a little. It almost felt like it wasn’t intended for the cinema. The aforementioned Susumu Hirasawa only gets a few minutes of opening credits theme song, and the cheesy “tune in next time” style trailer add to make this film more of a glorified TV episode. Of course, the battle scenes won’t have the same effect on the small screen, but 80 minutes? At least give me a double bill! Some of the animation also didn’t work for me. The film makes extensive use of CGI animation, and it really sticks out like a sore thumb. Many of the figures clunk around the screen like bobble-headed polygons from a 90s computer game cut-scene. It also feels like the CGI director and the drawn-animation director went for a “you do one scene, I’ll do the next” approach. The difference between the two is striking, giving the film a completely uneven visual feel.  

I’ll be honest; the film contains a lot of macho-bullshit. Women are relegated to supporting roles (classic dark ages, I guess), there is plenty of buckets-of-blood gore and painfully contrived attempts at human emotion. All this is layered with a thick coating of swaggering badassery, thanks mainly to Guts. I wanted more of the lone female warrior whose name escapes me, (and I’m not referring to her jarringly awkward and wholly unnecessary nude scene) she was definitely the most interesting character, maybe we‘ll be seeing her later. The film takes itself quite seriously, like it’s trying to be an animated Game of Thrones or something. But then, maybe it is more self aware than I’m giving it credit for. I mean, Japanese voice actors pronouncing names like Charlotte and Julius is pretty hilarious. I would have liked to have seen a bit more mystical junk though. Dragons, spells, that sort of thing. There was only really one battle with an evil monster, and it was a great scene. I hope that director Toshiyuki Kubooka has more in store for the sequels.

As I said, by the end of Berserk, I really was quite involved in the story. I was not expecting this at all, thinking it would be just a silly exercise in violence aimed at teenage boys. Of course, that’s exactly what it is… but the cliff-hanger that ended this movie is killing me, and I genuinely want to know what happens next! Sure, it’s mindless entertainment, and the characters and their animation have their weak spots, but it’s surprisingly well written. If the giant Warner Brothers logo that preceded the film is anything to go by, we can probably expect to see the rest of these movies in the west. And of course, as Madman was responsible for bringing us ReelAnime, they will no doubt do their damndest to bring them to Australia.

And so ends a bloody ripper ReelAnime, 4 great little movies direct from Japan. Melbournites make sure you catch WolfChildren; its stay has been extended at Cinema Nova, (where I just may see it for a third time, it’s that good) and where From up on Poppy Hill will be rejoining it later in the year.

Children Who Chase Lost Voices

星を追う子ども Makoto Shinkai, 2011
ReelAnime 3/4
 

So we have reached the second half of Madman's ReelAnime 2012. While I did know the first two directors and their work, the remaining two are pretty much completely new to me. It seems Makoto Shinkai is a director who has been making works quite regularly, I have heard of his interestingly titled film 5 Centimetres Per Second, but apart from that, I really don't know anything about him, and haven't seen any of his work available on DVD etc. in Australia as yet.

The film is about a young girl named Asuna, who lives in a picturesque little town near the mountains. Her mother works long shifts at a hospital, so Asuna pretty much looks after herself, and doesn't really have any friends. To pass the time, she sits upon the mountains listening to her makeshift radio that is powered by a crystal shard her deceased father left her. One day when walking home from school, Asuna encounters a terrifying monster, and is saved by a mysterious young boy named Shun, who disappears just as suddenly as he arrives. Determined to find her friend, Asuna learns of and seeks out the legendary world called Agartha, which lies below our earth. Even just from writing this short synopsis, it has made me realise how clumsily the story unfolds. The aforementioned monster appears out of nowhere, Shun, who we assume will be an important role in the story is quickly killed off, and Asuna sets out on an adventure with someone she hardly knows. Her substitute teacher/Agartha expert named Morisaki, the only character who possesses any true (if cliched) motivation for finding Agartha. He plays the roles of substitute teacher, academic, mourning widower and also member of an evil corporate organisation Arch Angel, who intend to find a gateway into Agartha. Asuna blindly follows him through the mysterious underworld, and we never really know why. Is it to find her dead father? Does she still believe Shun, who she knew for less than twenty-four hours, is alive? Story possibilities are introduced then discarded quickly, and much remains unexplained. The evil Arch Angel threat is conveyed as a powerful, evil force, yet is very quickly forgotten about as soon as Asuna and Morisaki enter Agartha, sealing the baddies on the outside and allowing our story to resume its aimless meandering, in an equally horizon-less underworld.

The main problem here is in the characterisation. Asuna is a completely boring cardboard cut-out of a character. She has no heroic personality traits, her voice is annoyingly cute and harmless, and she embarks on an adventure seemingly for no reason other than she has nothing better to do. The obligatory anime young-love story between the two young leads is set up, but hardly even touched upon, continuing Shinkai's trend of throwing out story arcs as he pleases. Every single character is completely dwarfed by the epic ambition of Shinkai's film. It's obvious he has spent most of his time developing and planning the world of Agartha, which could be seen as the film's true main character. Yet even this feels underdone. The characters wander continuosly through a vast and beautifully rendered land filled with... not much. It felt very much to me like a video game, where you are forced to traverse a massive overworld in order to reach places of interest like towns or dungeons. The "dual world" concept, along with certain beasts whose weaknesses are water and light also adds strongly to these video game comparisons. In fact, I'm going to go ahead and say that this film would be much more successful as a video game. I wonder if Shinkai ever played the Super Nintendo game Terranigma, a high concept role playing game dealing with similar parallel world ideas... Children Who Chase Lost Voices is an adventure story, and while it is beautiful to look at, with it's grand visuals realised wonderfully on the big screen, it's never as exciting as it could be. Links to ancient civilizations and influence from fantasy/adventure films like Indiana Jones or Journey to the Centre of the Earth seem quite clear, but Shinkai attempts a difficult balancing act with a large number of philosophical concepts and themes, and as a result, drops some and neglects others while misplacing the sense of wonder and discovery intrinsic to successful adventure stories.

Visually, the film is probably the most vibrant I've seen at ReelAnime so far. The film has a glowing, shiny, look, which lends itself perfectly to the cosmic, alternate world designs, with an eternal twilight enveloping every scene. The attention to detail is incredible. But the fact that the visuals are the film's main success just makes me think of the work as as a meal that looks really delicious, but by the end of it, you're still hungry. Shinkai's designs of the gods/guardians who watch over Agartha are also very derivative. I feel as though I've seen them all before in Miyazaki films, which I find annoying mainly for the reason that I end up mentioning Miyazaki every time I try and talk about non-Miyazaki anime. But when you're blatantly ripping stuff off/taking cues from him, its unavoidable. One scene with a young banished warrior cutting his hair and leaving his village on horseback is lifted almost shot for shot from Princess Mononoke. And the Izuko, evil undead monsters that survive only in the shadows are like something straight out of the Zelda games.

For me the film never reaches its full potential. It is an underdone and uneven affair, with some of the most uninvolving characters I've seen in a while. It really is a film of surfaces, stunning surfaces, but surfaces nonetheless. Shinkai sets up an exciting concept, the underworld of Agartha and the intrusion of the "top-siders" and delivers an average adventure, one that it is constantly trying to catch up with the visuals, which remain miles ahead of any other element of the film. In the end we are left with characters who aren't engaging, and a film too under-developed to be wholly satisfying, and an awful end credits theme-song.

Wolf Children

おおかみこどもの雨と雪 Mamoru Hosoda, 2012
Reel Anime 2/4

Mamoru Hosoda is the most exciting director currently working in animation. His two previous films were incredible, and have proven his ability to merge impeccable visuals with creative concepts while still being entertaining. His anime adaptation of The Girl Who Leapt through Time managed to breathe new life into a classic Japanese story that has been adapted countless times since the 60s, while his previous film Summer Wars, which was shown at ReelAnime 2010, is a modern masterpiece, overflowing with colourful and creative ideas. Earlier in the year I was doing some internet trawling, trying to find out if he would making a new movie anytime soon. I stumbled upon a Japanese “coming soon” style page for his next feature Wolf Children. Ever since then I have been eagerly awaiting it. And thanks to the good ol’ folks at Madman, we haven’t had to wait too long, bringing it to Australia a couple of months after its July premiere in Japan.

Hosoda’s works so far present characters and situations that are firmly grounded in reality, until extraneous circumstances see the arrival of strong fantasy elements. The Girl Who Leapt through Time deals with the use of time travel for a young girl living in contemporary Japan, while Summer Wars presents the internet as an alternate reality, the vastness of which threatens to eclipse the real world. Wolf Children is similar in that it remains very much a film set in the now, but the fantasy elements succeed in creating a world in a magic realism style. Hana is a young woman studying at university. Living alone, she works part time at a dry cleaner’s to support herself. One day she notices a mysterious man in her class who seems quite reluctant to engage in social interaction. Over time she pursues him and they fall in love. One night, the man (he is not given a name) reveals to Hana his secret, he is actually a wolf man. Not a savage, howling, human killing werewolf, just a man who happens to have the ability to transform into a wolf. This revelation does not alter Hana’s feelings, and they remain together, and soon Hana becomes pregnant. After their two children, Ame and Yuki (Japanese for rain and snow, given the weather that accompanied their birth) are born; things take a tragic turn when the wolf man is found dead in a river. Left to raise two young wolf children on her own, the devastated Hana decides they will move to the countryside for a new start.

The first small section of the film is dedicated to Hana and the wolf man, and plays out like a fairy tale love story, until their time together is cut short and the film’s focus widens to explore the children growing up. While watching, I was interested to see just how many of these children’s years Hosoda would track. Ame and Yuki as tiny little kids just may be the most adorable thing I have ever seen in a film. They run around their tiny city apartment, chewing books and table legs, transforming from child to wolf to somewhere in between at will. Hana’s frustration and confusion at these two unique children is played both for laughs and tears. Quick jokes such as Hana puzzling over whether to take a sick Yuki to a vet or a doctor are contrasted with prolonged, overarching themes of family, with Hana constantly giving of herself to protect the children she knows society will never understand or accept. When the setting changes from the city to the country, the film opens up in environment and character development, Yuki soon begins school, while Ame begins to explore the woods that surround their house, discovering his wolf side. The development of these children is beautifully realised. Their changes of heart and personality as they go though life and encounter new people, along with their secret wolf nature is not in the least bit contrived. Of course, the film follows Hana just as much as her children. Her journey from city living Uni student to rural farmer mother of two serves as the foundation from which Ame and Yuki’s stories flourish. There are a few melodramatic encounters, and even Hosoda can’t resist a few howling from mountaintop scenes, but really, all his works have an undercurrent of sentimentality. Interestingly, looking at The Girl Who Leapt through Time to Wolf Children, each of Hosoda’s works is set increasingly further from the city, seemingly favouring an agricultural lifestyle over the alienation of the urban environment.

Hosoda studied oil painting at university, which is no doubt the reason why all of his works are imbued with his own distinctive visual style. The country setting of Wolf Children, along with its surrounding forest and the changing of the seasons, allows Hosoda and his team to go for broke visually, as they ride opportunities to create moments of animated bliss. The arrival of winter is a beautiful and spectacular segment, approaching Fantasia-style levels of cinematic transcendence, while the film’s visuals as a whole is enough to make a glass eye weep. Fluid movement is animated masterfully, Ame and Yuki change from human to wolf in a matter of seconds or small physical movements, conveyed through various visual representations of human-animal hybrid, much like the Tanuki in Isao Takahata’s Pom Poko. Computer animation is also made use of in a few scenes, mostly for point of view shots of the wolf children bounding through the forest, but these are included seamlessly, adding new, dynamic visual possibilities and doesn’t create a jarring distinction with the more traditional animation style visuals at all.

The fact that Hosoda’s films, for me anyway, give an overwhelming sense of awe not present in the majority of the more mass produced style Anime, or even recent Studio Ghibli films is enough to make me hail him as “The new Miyazaki”. But that might be a bit unfair, given they do have their differences. Hosoda doesn’t get as preachy or environmental as Miyazaki sometimes can, and where Miyazaki laments the soullessness of contemporary life, escaping into more surreal or historical places, Hosoda seems much more comfortable or in harmony with it. Interestingly, Hosoda was originally attached to direct Howl’s Moving Castle, but left the project early on, leaving us to torture ourselves imagining how he may have treated that material. Maybe if Hosoda (and indeed others, as I’ve heard Makoto Shinkai’s Children Who Chase Lost Voices, also screening at ReelAnime, is a strong Ghibli de-throning contender) continues making such amazing work as Wolf Children, Ghibli will stop resting on their laurels and Miyazaki will come out of retirement.

It's hard to talk coherently about a movie that so immediately grabs you, I really feel as though I haven't said much at all in this post and have failed to accurately convey just why I loved Wolf Children so. But all I want to do is see it again. This film is like a breath of fresh air, and that makes it a hat-trick for Mamoru Hosoda: Three incredible movies in a row. Funny, moving and visually mind-blowing: I was grinning like a maniac from start to finish. The characters are just so well developed and the story so involving. Movies like this are the reason I go to the movies, and animation like this is the reason I love animation. I loved every minute of it, and while I still think Sumer Wars might be Hosoda’s best to date, Wolf Children is similarly deserving of the title “Masterpiece”. Possibly the best movie I’ve seen all year; Animation or otherwise.

From Up On Poppy Hill

コクリコ坂から Goro Miyazaki, 2011
Reel Anime 1/4
 

Madman's ReelAnime 2012 has kicked off around Australia, showcasing four new anime films direct from Japan. ReelAnime doesn't happen every year, I think the last time was 2010, so when it comes around it's pretty exciting, especially with a line up that looks as good as this year's. The two standout films are most definitely going to be the new Studio Ghibli film From Up On Poppy Hill directed by Goro Miyazaki, and Wolf Children, the new work by Mamoru Hosoda, a director whose work has succeeded in surpassing anything Ghibli has done since Howl's Moving Caslte. My guess is that From Up On Poppy Hill will remain the major audience draw-card however, simply for the fact that it is a Studio Ghibli Film. This hypothesis was proven last night when I saw it at Cinema Nova, where the theatre was almost completely full with both adults and children.

This film had a bit riding on it for me. There are two reasons for this: One, the last Ghibli movie Arriety was not amazing. It was nice, but quite underwhelming. Two, the last Goro Miyazaki film Tales From Earthsea, which was also his directorial debut, is almost universally considered to be the worst Ghibli movie yet made. I didn't think it was an absolute failure, but like Arriety, there was just a huge lack of Ghibli magic. It must be difficult for Goro being the son of one the greatest directors of all time, animation or otherwise, Hayao Miyazaki. It's an enormous shadow to live in, but the good news is that From Up On Poppy Hill is a fairly good sign that Goro is finding his way as a director, and also that Studio Ghibli is still an important force in the animation world.

The film is set in Yokohama 1963. The 60s was a period of rapid economic development for Japan, but also one of great change and confusion following war and American occupation. The film captures this quite perfectly in that there are many instances where the film doesn't feel very Japanese at all. The presence of Coca-Cola and television, along with characters breaking from traditional roles (one is a painter, one travels abroad for study) serve to create a Japan at a crossroads. A time and place that I'm sure carries a great nostalgic power for Japanese people, one only has to look at the enormous success of the sickly sweet Always films, but for me, this was a place that seemed to exist outside of time or place, and all the more so because it was animated. I think this is what makes for the most successful aspect of Poppy Hill. 

Ghibli has produced a few coming of age stories set in modern day Japan, Whisper of The Heart and Only Yesterday, and Poppy Hill sticks to this pretty familiar formula, probably a bit too closely, actually. Umi is a teenage girl who lives in a boarding house on a hill with a bunch of women from all walks of life. Despite her age and school commitments, Umi looks cooks and cleans for all the residents and just generally runs the house, which is owned by her grandmother Keiko. At school, Umi becomes friends with a boy named Shun, who, along with his friends, are protesting the destruction of their style clubhouse. And so begins a story of young love and student politics. Unfortunately, the film is never surprising. We know how it will end and how the obstacles will be overcome, which is a shame, because the film's main plot twist deals with unexpectedly mature issues that are quite interesting given the historical context, but are hastily resolved without issue by the film's end.

Like most Japanese films set in the post-war era, Poppy Hill addresses the "Out with the old, in with the new" dictum that so propelled Japan into the modern era, and It's great to see this from a teenage student point of view. Teenagers don't know who they are or what they want to be as is, but throw them into a social environment still reeling from the effects of war while simultaneously hurtling into the future, the results are quite moving and sometimes hilarious. The school clubhouse stands as a strong if somewhat clichéd metaphor for the loss of history/tradition, but it's design is classic Ghibli. A dark, dusty building full of old junk, that is inhabited by exuberant youths with dreams of changing the world. Throughout the film, the students express a reverence for tradition and integrity that belies their age, while also keeping their sights fixed firmly on the future. In one small scene, the only two remaining members of the Archaeology club are driven to go out and recruit new members rather than sit around contemplating the loss of their clubhouse, exclaiming that they owe it to those who came before them. It seems that Goro shares his father's oft-included themes of loss of culture and also his penchant for female leads. The Kokuriko boarding house is occupied solely by modern young females, while Keiko, the lady of the house, is a kimono-clad symbol of an old Japan quickly fading.

The film's soundtrack was the thing I had the most issues with. Poppy Hill boasts an incredibly jumbled array of poorly executed musical styles, many of which are mismatched to the onscreen visuals. It ranges from plaintive piano music (a mainstay of Studio Ghibli and always done infinitely better by regular collaborator Joe Hisaishi) to Go-go style organ grooves to playful horn-driven jazz which accompanies the cleaning of the clubhouse, one of the rare moments that worked. Ghibli films usually include one or two beautiful vocal pieces that are inserted effortlessly into the film, often over the opening or closing credits, but Poppy Hill's vocal pieces felt quite underdone. Much more successful is the inclusion of the students singing what I'm guessing are nationalistic/school songs acapella to raise morale, and Kyu Sakamoto's pop song 上を向いて歩こう (I Shall Walk Looking Up) which is known in the west as "Sukiyaki" thanks to what was probably an unbelievably lazy/ignorant translation. This hugely popular song was released in the year the film is set, and adds the kind of era-specific detail the soundtrack seemed to be attempting to recreate, but ultimately failed at with its soulless rehashing of 60s music styles. The scenes in which "Sukiyaki" is included are the scenes which really soar, conveying the kind of magic Ghibli has become famous for. Unfortunately, Goro is not able to sustain this magic for the whole film in the way Spirited Away or Howl's Moving Castle do, but the mere fact that there is glimpses of it is enough to make me hopeful for his future works.

I had reasonably low expectations for Poppy Hill, and was pleasantly surprised. The story isn't anything amazingly original, and you can see the ending coming a mile off, but it is quite heartfelt. It doesn't approach anything daddy Miyazaki has done, apart from the visuals, which are absolutely beautiful, but that is something for which Ghibli can always be relied on. All in all, it is a good addition to the less fantasy oriented titles in the Ghibli library, and while he still has some way to go, it is a solid new effort from Goro Miyazaki.

Kanazawa Film Festival 2012

If the world ends this year, it won't be because of the whole "2012: End of Days" thing. It will have nothing to do with the Mayan calendar, the Aztecs, Egyptians or any other ancient mystical prophecies. It will be because of the 2012 Kanazawa Film Festival.

The program was released about a month ago, and it is pretty unbelievable. Last year's festival theme was Filmageddon, and showcased a formidable line up of horror, crime and war oriented films from all over the world. This year the theme is Eros. A new website (it's pink, of course) has been launched, and the line up is absolutely overflowing with erotica, in what promises to be the most outrageous and unashamed celebration of trash ever publicly held.

The website has split the films into specific categories/genres including but certainly not limited to "Horror Queen" "Way of Love" and "Abnormal" with Paul Verhoeven's big budget sleaze-fest Showgirls set for the free outdoor opening night screening (how is this even allowed??). The centrepiece of the program is definitely the Christina Lindberg retrospective. A cult figure of 1970s sexploitation cinema, it looks as though every film she starred in from that era will be included. From the erotic films of her Swedish homeland to the incredibly nasty Thriller: A Cruel Picture and also her brief foray into Japanese sexploitation cinema with Sex & Fury. Lindberg's naked figure circa 1970 is everywhere, adorning the official program, website, tickets AND T-shirts! But if that wasn't enough, she will also be visiting the festival as a guest! Wow.

Add to this Sadao Nakajima, a director known for his Yakuza films from the 60s and 70s, who will also be visiting, and you have a festival that Tarantino would absolutely lose his lunch over. Facebook updates showing local business owners clutching the program and offering recommendations are making it clear that the town is in a buzz of anticipation for the festival, which is really quite fascinating, given the relatively small size of Kanazawa versus the explicit content of the films scheduled for screening. It runs for one week from September 14 to 21. Unfortunately I will not be attending due to uni (the workload and the not having money thing), but it looks like it's going to be an absolute riot.

check out the website at http://www.eiganokai.com/event/filmfes2012/index.html
and on facebook http://www.facebook.com/eiganokai 

MIFFburger #8 (Final): HIMIZU

 ヒミズ Sion Sono, 2011

And so my MIFF comes to a close for 2012 with the final film on my list, Himizu. As it is a Sion Sono film, a director who has been getting a bit of attention in previous posts, I really was looking forward to this one, especially since it has been a bit of a wait. The film has been available on DVD overseas for quite a while now, and info on it has been popping up in my facebook feed from UK's Third Window Films for what feels like ages. What is also interesting is that we have another Manga adaption on our hands. And even though I have never read, nor ever even heard of the original series (not a big manga fan here) the original work seems to have been reworked quite a bit, becoming very topical in its contemporary setting and themes.

The disastrous March 11 earthquake and tsunami prompted Sono to rewrite his script and change filming location to the destroyed Tohoku region, the result of which is a bleak atmosphere, in a film which is often very overwhelming. The opening scene is beautifully powerful; a female voice recites French poet François Villon's Ballade, while Mozart's familiar Requiem accompanies restrained shots surveying the devastated landscape of Ibaraki Prefecture. What struck me first of all was Sono's use of such a well known piece of classical music. Like many other famous pieces (Debussy's Clair De Lune or Grieg's Mountain King... ugh, every film trailer ever) Requiem's place in the global popular consciousness has resulted in it acquiring so much baggage, that I would have thought of it as a bit of a no go zone. How could you possibly use such a "Greatest Hits" piece that has been included in some form or another in everything from Amadeus to The Big Lebowski?? But somehow, Sono pulls it off. His tongue may be in cheek, but it is definitely less so than when Ravel's Bolero turned up in Love Exposure. Samuel Barber's Adagio For Strings is also included later on in the film, a piece that is arguably even more loaded given its cinematic history, yet Sono creates beautiful scenes that function as cinema and documentary at the same time, using repeated musical motifs that, particularly in this first scene, approach the kind of effects Spike Lee and composer Terence Blanchard achieved with When The Levees Broke, the amazing documentary about Hurricane Katrina.

But anyway, onto the story.

After his abusive and neglecting parents abandon him, fourteen year old Sumida (Shota Sumetani) finds himself having to fend for himself in this harsh and still very real environment. Filled with emotional turmoil in an environment that seems to only repress him, he assumes the role of manager of his family's lakeside boat rental shack and ends up dropping out of school. Over time, the mentally poisonous world around him has strong affects, and Sumida employs more drastic and violent methods in order to cope. Perhaps the most interesting role Sumida plays is that of caretaker. The area around Sumida's shack serves as a camping ground for some of the local inhabitants who lost everything, literally pitching tents in the backyard and looking up to him with great admiration and thanks. This also ensures that for the most part of the film, there is a supporting cast of weird and colourful characters, acting not unlike a chorus in a stage musical. The sense of community these people embody works on more than just a cinematic level too. A very large number of regular Sono collaborators make appearances, whether large or small, creating a sort of internal star system. Seeing Mitsuru Fukikoshi and Megumi Kagurazaka living together again after Cold Fish and also Denden in a variation on his terrifying gangster style is like a great big in-joke from Sono to his audience. A same-but-different or "What If?" kind of world, which I think is straight up genius.

Despite this large cast, we are always focused on the leading teenage couple. I have mentioned Sumida above, but the film really belongs to Fumi Nikaido, who plays Keiko, a young girl from Sumida's class, who has a manic and unashamed crush on him. A self confessed stalker, Keiko follows Sumida around, hanging off his every word so she can write it on her bedroom wall later. Nikaido’s smile just glows off the screen, a perfect counter to Sumida's simmering angst. All she wants to do is look after him, even if it means having to endure his mood swings and playground style beatings. These teenagers represent the kind of confusion and angst all fourteen year-olds go through, but of course, they convey it in the often-bordering-on, at-times-full-on caricature style melodrama to be expected of Sono. They are at the mercy of almost all the adults around them, parents can't be relied on and teachers don't understand. When the Yakuza turn up, things get even more complicated. Add to this the wasteland that is Tohoku, the most important element in the film in that it grounds it in reality, Sumida and Keiko are reflected perfectly in the Villon poem they recite:

I know the rosy-cheeked and the pale
I know death who devours all
I know everything but myself

As I said, the film is based on a manga. Knowing nothing about the original story, I'm wondering where the manga ends and where Sono begins. Is the change of setting the only difference? In any case, we just have to accept the film as a work in its own right, and this tale of disconnected youth battling with reality and their sicknesses fits the tsunami aftermath in an eerily perfect way. As I am discovering is typical of Sion Sono's films, Himizu is also very long and a bit repetitive. But its length is partly justified with some great subplots which allow for changes in scenery and exploration of other characters, creating a film that has moments of colourful escapism in contrast to its grim reality. A run in with a Neo-Nazi is bizarre, scary and exhilirating all at once.

Sono doesn’t shy away from the politics of the disaster either, including footage of TV interviews and directly referencing Japan’s post tsunami rebuilding campaign slogan “Ganbare Nihon!” throughout the whole film. I found it hard to decipher just what this was saying about Sono’s feelings though… Is he angry and bitter? Depressed? Hopeful? I think the answer may be all of the above, at times simultaneously. Hope seems to win out in the end however, with the film’s emotional climax arriving in its final scene, an astonishingly powerful cinematic moment that weighed down on me long after I left the cinema.

Tohoku doesn’t make the evening news anymore; too much time has passed for it to warrant international concern. And it is partly for that reason that I think this film is something that should be seen by many. It has definitely stayed with me, and I believe that its reputation and acclaim will grow in time, until one day it be considered quite an important work.

And so ended MIFF 2012!