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.

MIFFburger #3: HARA KIRI - Death of a Samurai

一命Takashi Miike, 2011

Two Miike's down, one to go.

Hara Kiri: Death of a Samurai is a remake of Masaki Kobayashi's 1963 film, which I was unable to get my hands for viewing before seeing this new version, which I was pretty bummed about, as it is often talked about with the same awe and respect masterpieces from Kurosawa or Mizoguchi receive. But anyway, that will be high on the post MIFF to-do list.

At MIFF 2011 Miike well and truly proved that he could create a modern day Samurai film with an immense respect for the history of the genre as well as being wildly entertaining for contemporary audiences with 13 Assasins. It was one of my highlights of the entire festival and another feather in the cap of one of the most productive directors working today. Hara Kiri can definitely be seen as a sort of companion piece to 13 Assassins, both are remakes, both share a beautiful visual style, and both are period dramas. Yet their stories are quite different. Before I get into that, a very quick history lesson may be in order. The film is set in 1600s Japan, The Edo Period, a time when the houses of many feudal lords were being abolished by Tokugawa Ieyasu who had come into almost absolute power within Japan. Basically, if you were a Samurai and your master was killed, or his house fell, you became a Ronin; a masterless wanderer who would either commit Hara Kiri to save face/avoid shame or you wandered around looking for other work.

Hara Kiri is the story of Hanshiro Tsugumo, a disheveled ronin who has arrived at estate of the House if Ii. He has but one request: allow me to commit hara kiri within your courtyard in order to regain some measure of honour. But the master of the house, Kageyu Saito, is not convinced. The advent of the Edo Period has brought with it countless fallen Samurai, with many requesting the same thing at various estates across the land, either with genuine intent to commit suicide, or in an attempt to appeal to Lords' good nature, use their supposed death wish to veil their hope for employment, or at least some money to tide them over. Kageyu then goes on to warn Hanshiro by way of the tale of a young man named Motome, who arrived not long ago with the same request, only to meet his grisly end due to their clan's refusal to tolerate suicide bluffs. With their strict adherence to codes of Samurai honour, Kageyu sees to it that anyone who requests suicide, bluffing or not, will be accommodated.

The cautionary tale of Motome forms the first of the film’s two long flashback sequences, which alternate between this backstory and the present. Through these flashbacks, the mysterious Hanshiro character is developed and explored, with his true reasons for calling upon Kageyu slowly revealed. And I do mean slowly. I was quite surprised at how slow this slow burn is. Miike is in full-on classical mode here. The camera work is amazingly beautiful, the composition and framing feels like a stage production, and actors sit talking while glaring into each other's eyes with burning intensity. Visually, the film is flawless. Traditional Japanese estates and courtyards are recreated with a deep, rich colour palette, as are the countryside villages and costumes, which Miike uses to draw distinct differences between the different levels of the feudal hierarchy. On top of all this, the film is in 3D. Now, I usually make a point to not see 3D films, one, because I don't want to spend the extra few dollars and two, because it's pretty much always a headache inducing gimmick. Unfortunately, Hara Kiri falls into that ever growing category of "unnecessarily 3D movie that would be just as enjoyable in 2D". It does add an interesting, although slightly disorienting, layer of depth to the interiors of the film's beautiful sets, but ultimately it just reminded me of the kind of 3D virtual tours that you can find in Japanese castles or temples that recreate the former glory and beauty of the since destroyed/deteriorated site for tourists.

The film's restraint is not solely technical though. Fans of the exhilarating swordplay in 13 Assassins may be disappointed at Hara Kiri's contemplative nature. Miike opts to critique and question the notion of honour in a changing political landscape rather than no holds barred violence and spectacle, which really, is quite an unexpected move for him. Instead, we have a bleak, drawn out, emotional story of family and revenge that approaches Shakespeare or Greek Tragedy territory. If I had one problem, it was that this family story, told pretty much entirely through flashbacks, didn't fully engage me. I realise that it was absolutely essential to the presently unfolding events of the film, but it felt a bit out of balance for me. I also felt quite sorry for Hikari Mitsushima, who plays the film's token female Miho, who was not given much to do at all. She was quite underused, and must have felt a bit ripped off, especially since she has the impressive Love Exposure on her resume. Kabuki stage performer Ebizo Ichikawa carries the entire film as the unbelievably cool Hanshiro. His performance is a mesmerising quiet storm, sitting on the floor for the majority of the film, until duty calls and he dons his best pair of crazy eyez, gets his yojimbo swagger on and takes care of business in the film's sole fight scene.

The film's focus on dialogue and story serves to imbue the rare instances of bloodshed with a palpable intensity, the aforementioned fight scene served as something of an exhale of a breath I had been holding for the entire film without realising. The scenes of ritual suicide are particularly powerful. Miike's handling and orchestration of the disembowelling from which the film takes its name are masterful. The audience's horror is heightened and teased out through what is seen, unseen and what is heard. While the violence does allow Miike's penchant for blood to shine through, it does not bear his trademark excess. It is shockingly realistic and had many squirming, gasping and even laughing out of disbelief in Melbourne Central's XTREME screen.

While the film did feel a bit out of balance for me, it really is quite an achievement, a logical next step and new challenge for Miike after 13 Assassins. It was just the reliance on flashbacks that I had a bit of love/hate for. I would be interested to see how Kobayashi handled this in the original. I just think this just goes to show that Miike may be at his weakest while directing the more domestic/family oriented side of the film. Thank goodness for Ebizo Ichikawa, his performance is incredible and made the film's weaker moments much more bearable for me. One more shout-out is due for heavyweight composer Ryuichi Sakamoto, easily one of Japan's greatest composers, or even musicians full stop. Sakamoto also takes Miike's classical approach, contributing a brooding, elegiac score that perfectly matches the film.

I think that if you accept that this film isn't 13 Assassins (and doesn’t try to be) you will enjoy it more. Yes, it is very slow and the violence is in short supply, but by the time you reach the end you will have been treated to a few brilliant plot twists and badass moments. It continues to grow on me since I saw it, and really is quite thought provoking, with its concepts of honour and justice, as well as presenting a wealth of interesting Japanese history and culture.

MIFF Countdown

The Melbourne International Film Festival kicks off next week and there are a grand total of nine Japanese films (although some of which are co-productions). I will be endeavouring to see every single one, so stay tuned. Among the nine films showing are not one, not two, but THREE Takashi Miike films (seriously, that man is a one man film making factory) including his adaptation of the popular Nintendo DS game Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney which looks like a lot of fun.

The film I’ve been hearing about for months now, largely due to the fact that it is already available on DVD in the UK, Sion Sono’s Himizu will also be coming to town, which will no doubt continue his string of dark and disturbing films, while Hirokazu Koreeda can be relied upon to provide the kind of heartfelt drama he is famous for with I Wish. Unfortunately, anime fans will have to make do with a lone animated entry A Letter to Momo, but there is always the ReelAnime Festival to look forward to later in the year. 

Good old fashioned swords and Samurai dramas will be supplied both by Miike’s remake of Hara-Kiri (In 3D, no less!) and veteran director Koji Wakamatsu’s 11/25: The Day Mishima Chose His Own Fate, coming direct from Cannes.

 

Check out the MIFF website for info and tickets (or get the incredibly handy app) and keep checking Japachickyburgers for new posts as I bring you the Japanese side of MIFF 2012.

The Twilight Samurai

たそがれ清兵衛 Yoji Yamada, (2002)

A few years ago, a Japanese friend of mine recommended a film to me. It was Yoji Yamada’s The Hidden Blade (2004). It was a while ago, but I remember it being very slow moving and it didn’t really leave a very strong impression on me, either negatively or positively. However, I recently watched Yamada’s previous film The Twilight Samurai from 2002, which has sparked a desire to revisit The Hidden Blade, for the sole reason that The Twilight Samurai was the most amazing, most beautiful movie I have seen in a long time.

Based on a novel by Shohei Fujisawa, the story is very much a revisionist Samurai film. Set only a few years before the Meiji Restoration, Japan’s era of rapid modernisation, the glory days of the Samurai are nothing but a fading memory, with many of the characters referred to as samurai in name only, basically working desk jobs as their skills with the sword, unneeded, are gradually forgotten. Among them is Iguchi Seibei (Hiroyuki Sanada), a recently bereaved widower who must look after his two young daughters and his senile mother on a pitifully low wage. His devotion to his family results in his nickname “Tasogare” (Twilight) as he returns home to his family immediately after work, never joining his co-workers for socialising or drinks.

The era of the late 1700s conveys just as much twilight as Seibei. The atmosphere is rich and dimly lit, like a fine oil painting come to life, small indoor fires seem to serve as the sole light source in a number of scenes. The colours of the countryside; the winter snow, the green grass, is enough to make your eyes water. Yet Yamada creates an environment that is not solely visual, a feeling of peace and utmost calm pervades the film, while we are gently reminded of the film’s historical context through the arrival of guns as the new weapon of choice, the impending change of government and more chillingly, widespread sickness culminating in the dead bodies of children casually discovered in rivers. Seibei continues to earn his living and care for his family throughout this era’s final days, displaying a remarkable foresight as he guides his daughters into a new uncertain era as best he can. It is with a heavy heart that his life as a warrior catches up with him when his skills as a swordsman are required by his clan, and duty compels him to act. 

The question of Seibei’s remarriage also forms a major part of the story, as a childhood friend re-enters his life. Interwoven perfectly into the film, some of the its most moving scenes revolve around Tomoe, played by the beautiful Rie Miyazawa, who takes it upon herself to help look after Seibei’s family, following a divorce from an abusive husband. These domestic scenes of food preparation, calligraphy and cleaning could easily slip into dreadfully mundane territory, but the actors bring a palpable sense of reality to the film’s many quiet scenes and moreover, the entirety of its exceedingly simple story. While this film is centred on a central Samurai character, one should not expect bloody, sword fighting action. The film contains a grand total of three swordfights- actually its more like two and a half. The bouts are tightly choreographed, the first of which only lasts a few minutes, but their rarity and balletic beauty makes them truly exciting. Yet this revisionist look at the samurai genre, focusing more on the domestic life of a dying warrior class is never boring. Yamada has created a moving drama so beautiful it could challenge anything Yasujiro Ozu ever did. Coupled with this masterful direction and gorgeous visuals, Isao Tomita’s score also deserves mention, the soundtrack uses a strange mix of synthesisers and traditional Japanese instruments, with powerful percussion and haunting melodies enough to make your ears weep.

The film does an amazing job at never slipping into melodrama, I only had a few problems with some aspects of the ending, particularly the closing theme song which I think should have been left out. Also, Seibei’s youngest daughter narrates the story as a much older woman, I found myself wondering how necessary this was. All in all, this is an amazing film. I can’t remember the last time I saw a drama film that enveloped me so, and it is so refreshing to see one handled so masterfully and never goes for cheap drama clichés. It won a huge number of Japan Academy Awards including best film, director, actor, actress AND screenplay! Wow. It was also nominated for the Academy Award for best foreign picture (or as I like to call it; the “Rest of world” section) but did not win, which is a shame because The Twilight Samurai is an absolute work of art.