I've probably mentioned it before, but I'm extremely fond of Takashi Miike, mostly because of his unpredictability. Perhaps this is due to his being insanely prolific, but his films aren't afraid to go off in bizarre directions and take unexpected turns. Nothing he does is surprising, even if he's making a vehicle for Japanese girl band Speed and their boy band buddies Da Pump. Andromedia isn't merely a star vehicle though, it's an experiment in fusing genres that nobody has ever thought to fuse.
On one hand it's a heartfelt drama about adolescence and getting a second chance with someone you love. Kenji Harada is Yu, and Hiroko Shimabukuro is Mai. They're young lovers and old friends, coming to terms with their blossoming sexuality and young bliss. Takako Uehara is Mai's friend Rika, who secretly loves Yu and is jealous. Tragically, Mai is run over by a bus, in a scene that I hate to admit I laughed extremely loudly at, and everyone is sad, until she is reincarnated as a magical computer program by her dad.
That leads neatly to the other hand, which is a wacky computer-based espionage comedy in the vein of Hackers and Masterminds, with the same mix of "OMG computers!", hilariously juvenile evil CEOs (Christoper Doyle, also known as a very good cinematographer. Cinematography and acting do not require the same skill set, as soon becomes obvious by his overblown performance), and instantly dated and ridiculous CGI. Mai inhabits a world of Tetris blocks, sheets of quickly scrolling binary and all the "Holy crap, computers!" you can think of post-accident, and is being chased by the evil CEO and Satoshi (Ryo Kataro), her half brother who has a brain tumor and an unclear role in the proceedings.
Also, there's a boy band music video in the middle, because there's a boy band there, that's what they do, why not?
It might seem like touching drama and action/comedy are two genres you would never expect to see in a hybrid. There is a good reason for this, the tonal shifts are utterly bizarre, and you often feel as though there are two movies going on simultaneously. Not helping is the overwhelming late-80sness of the proceedings - the movie was released in 1998, but it feels really 80s in style and substance. I never realized that the one thing Masterminds needed was more high school drama.
I wish it could have just been about the kids coming to terms with their friends' death, but there has to be that pesky explanation for that ghost. On the other hand, I sort of enjoyed the cheesy hackerspoitation aspects, in the same way I enjoy Hackers and Masterminds in spite of their terrible execution. I love movies about computers by people who have only heard of computers from second-hand sources, and this is no exception, the joyously bizarre attempts to visualize what happens in your machine is a joy to behold each and every time.
One element that doesn't work is Hiroko Shimabukuro. Like in most vehicles for people who made their name singing, Shimabukuro is utterly unconvincing as a human being. Now, I actually thought this was an intentional choice on the part of the performer, since she's not a human and supposed to be learning her way around being in a computer, but she seems to be reading off of cue cards. This would be fine if she could read out loud, but it honestly sounds like a fifth grader reading a report to class. As I said, it sort of works in the computer, but there are scenes where she's playing a real person, and she still does it.
Andromedia could have easily been unwatchable, and it is nevertheless very stupid, but I have to say I can't hate it. It's too out there, trying to meld genres that really don't go together very well. It has some good elements, some good imagery, and it's by my favorite hyper-prolific Japanese director. I enjoy watching it, but I hate to say, it's a very stupid movie. But, considering what it was designed for - a vehicle for bands - it's certainly better than Spice World.
Showing posts with label takashi miike. Show all posts
Showing posts with label takashi miike. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Big Bang Love, Juvenile A
While it might seem like an odd thing to bring up when discussing the film of a completely different director, it seems like the appropriate moment to say I don't like Lars Von Trier. Perhaps it's simply because Big Bang Love, Juvenile A has managed to make me realize why exactly it is I don't like Von Trier. Simply put, I hate his almost fetishistic need for self-denial. From denying himself proper lighting and equipment with the Dogme 95 movement to denying himself full sets with Dogville, his entire aesthetic is punishing himself for some ill defined reason. This film puts that in sharp relief, because while it does use similar chalk outline sets on occasion, it's not because of a self denial, but because it can, and because it is not denying itself anything. Instead of a film of punishment, it's a chance to actively explore different methods of doing things.
The story goes that two convicted murderers, Ariyoshi (Ryuhei Matsuda) and Kazushi (Masonobu Ando) go into prison (which is between a space shuttle and an ancient ruin, oddly) and enter into an unlikely but intense relationship. However, Ariyoshi is seen strangling Kazushi, and the film explores why, or if Ariyoshi killed Kazushi. While that description may imply a typical crime narrative, that's not what you get here. Instead, the relationship and the characters are explored in a highly abstract environment, with the design being an outward expression of their emotional state rather than conforming to traditional prison rules.
One could easily accuse this film of being pretentious, and it is trying very hard to be an art film. Of course, being by insanely prolific Takashi Miike, one might also assume he just wanted to approach the material in a new way, and try something he never had before. Whatever one thinks, you can tell that the design of the picture is rooted in a sense of inventiveness and exploration. From a pure story perspective it's interesting, but it becomes rewatchable just because of the subtle clues hidden within the sets and design.
It's also beautifully shot, using light in ways to help define scenes and areas in a way that defines them and gives a striking image at the same time. The greens and purples of the interrogation room contrast with the yellows in the primary prison area, and in rare excursions to the real world there is a completely different shooting style to emphasize the disconnect of the prison world.
It's up to the average viewer if these visual flourishes and some of the odder elements actually add to the picture. It could come off as extremely pretentious, and if you're not prepared for it, a little alienating. That's fine, but if nothing else, it's an experiment, and denies itself nothing. It is a film which denies itself nothing to try to get its point across. That's why I love Takashi Miike, when one watches his films you get the sense of a director who recognizes that film can be whatever you want it to be. If Von Trier would realize that instead of using it as a means of self (and audience) punishment, maybe I'd like him too.
The story goes that two convicted murderers, Ariyoshi (Ryuhei Matsuda) and Kazushi (Masonobu Ando) go into prison (which is between a space shuttle and an ancient ruin, oddly) and enter into an unlikely but intense relationship. However, Ariyoshi is seen strangling Kazushi, and the film explores why, or if Ariyoshi killed Kazushi. While that description may imply a typical crime narrative, that's not what you get here. Instead, the relationship and the characters are explored in a highly abstract environment, with the design being an outward expression of their emotional state rather than conforming to traditional prison rules.
One could easily accuse this film of being pretentious, and it is trying very hard to be an art film. Of course, being by insanely prolific Takashi Miike, one might also assume he just wanted to approach the material in a new way, and try something he never had before. Whatever one thinks, you can tell that the design of the picture is rooted in a sense of inventiveness and exploration. From a pure story perspective it's interesting, but it becomes rewatchable just because of the subtle clues hidden within the sets and design.
It's also beautifully shot, using light in ways to help define scenes and areas in a way that defines them and gives a striking image at the same time. The greens and purples of the interrogation room contrast with the yellows in the primary prison area, and in rare excursions to the real world there is a completely different shooting style to emphasize the disconnect of the prison world.
It's up to the average viewer if these visual flourishes and some of the odder elements actually add to the picture. It could come off as extremely pretentious, and if you're not prepared for it, a little alienating. That's fine, but if nothing else, it's an experiment, and denies itself nothing. It is a film which denies itself nothing to try to get its point across. That's why I love Takashi Miike, when one watches his films you get the sense of a director who recognizes that film can be whatever you want it to be. If Von Trier would realize that instead of using it as a means of self (and audience) punishment, maybe I'd like him too.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Sukiyaki Western Django
I think the first film by Takashi Miike - director of today's entry, Sukiyaki Western Django I saw was one Dead or Alive, which ended with an absolutely insane final battle, where the two characters grabbed increasingly gigantic weapons, culminating in a bazooka. It was bizarre, and I got the sense that Miike ended the film that way because he could. That impression translates to the entire movie with Django. Miike is doing things because he can, though we do get some indication of why.
While I once said that Yojimbo was what would have been a western had Japan colonized the Americas, Django takes that idea and runs with it. Yojimbo, along with other westerns, and about a billion different pictures, are all referenced and played with here. We've got the story of two warring factions, one in red, one in white. Into town rides a lone gunman, Hideaki Ito. He enters the elaborate conflict between the two sides with both barrels, in sequences that feel quite heavily inspired by Yojimbo. On the way, we get references to the Tales of the Heike - a Japanese story I don't know much about - and Shakespeare's Henry VI.
Really though, this film references 100 years of film history, connecting it all together with one simple truth - in film, you can do anything you want. This seems to be the guiding principal behind Miike's entire cinematic oeuvre, and here we see him dabbling in pretty much everything he can think of. There's slapstick, silly jokes, romance, inventive, allusive, allegorical, and sometimes just plain beautiful imagery, tragedy and pure action. Anything that has been, and can be done with film is done here, and one can't help but get taken away with it.
Not that it's perfect, in fact there's one glaring fault. See, we have a movie that was made in Japan, with a Japanese cast (and Quentin Tarantino, being less annoying than usual, but still pretty annoying). So, what's the language used? English. It's the ESL happy hour, and the actors are clearly very uncomfortable actually acting in the language. It's a bit awkward, and isn't really fair to the cast.
It says a lot then that the rest of the film continues to be quite entertaining in spite of the obvious language hurdles. The best thing about the whole experience is that we're taken for a ride by a director that knows, deep within his heart, that cinema can mean anything you want it to. In each frame, you can see how decades of watching and learning about film has informed his style and taught him the power of a good movie. Cinema can make you laugh, make you cry, shock, stun and awe. As any fan of film knows, cinema can be anything. Here, it is absolutely everything.
While I once said that Yojimbo was what would have been a western had Japan colonized the Americas, Django takes that idea and runs with it. Yojimbo, along with other westerns, and about a billion different pictures, are all referenced and played with here. We've got the story of two warring factions, one in red, one in white. Into town rides a lone gunman, Hideaki Ito. He enters the elaborate conflict between the two sides with both barrels, in sequences that feel quite heavily inspired by Yojimbo. On the way, we get references to the Tales of the Heike - a Japanese story I don't know much about - and Shakespeare's Henry VI.
Really though, this film references 100 years of film history, connecting it all together with one simple truth - in film, you can do anything you want. This seems to be the guiding principal behind Miike's entire cinematic oeuvre, and here we see him dabbling in pretty much everything he can think of. There's slapstick, silly jokes, romance, inventive, allusive, allegorical, and sometimes just plain beautiful imagery, tragedy and pure action. Anything that has been, and can be done with film is done here, and one can't help but get taken away with it.
Not that it's perfect, in fact there's one glaring fault. See, we have a movie that was made in Japan, with a Japanese cast (and Quentin Tarantino, being less annoying than usual, but still pretty annoying). So, what's the language used? English. It's the ESL happy hour, and the actors are clearly very uncomfortable actually acting in the language. It's a bit awkward, and isn't really fair to the cast.
It says a lot then that the rest of the film continues to be quite entertaining in spite of the obvious language hurdles. The best thing about the whole experience is that we're taken for a ride by a director that knows, deep within his heart, that cinema can mean anything you want it to. In each frame, you can see how decades of watching and learning about film has informed his style and taught him the power of a good movie. Cinema can make you laugh, make you cry, shock, stun and awe. As any fan of film knows, cinema can be anything. Here, it is absolutely everything.
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