"If you want to be a professional boxer, you need to learn to control your own life."
I think I'm going to start these things with a line from the film that neatly sums up the entire picture, what do you think? For example, Kids Return's overall theme can probably be summed up neatly right there, though professional boxer can be subbed out for any other profession. The people who succeed control their own life, the people who don't allow others to control them.
It's an interesting theme, considering the history of the production. See, somewhere between the last entry and this one, Takeshi Kitano had a major motorcycle accident. Actually, according to the writer/director/actor/editor/genius himself, it was more a suicide attempt. While he survived and went on to make some of my favorite movies, at the time there was a lot of doubt about whether or not he would ever work again. However, he decided that instead of never working again, he would pour all of his energies into making a new movie, which we see here. Not surprisingly, he's not in the movie itself, but he has clearly evolved as a person and a filmmaker, and it was probably his best movie up until that point.
So what's it all about then? There are two friends, Shinji (Masanobu Ando) and Masaru (Ken Kaneko). They are the school bullies and troublemakers, making strange anatomically correct stickmen dolls and beating up kids for their lunch money. One day, Masaru starts boxing, and cajoles Shinji into joining him. I suppose explaining the dynamics of their relationship is relevant. Masaru is very much the dominant personality, and Shinji is remarkably prone to suggestion. Due to their general misbehavior, teachers give up on the two students, and their paths diverge as Shinji proves adept at boxing, and Masaru wanders off to the Yakuza. It catalogs their rise and fall, which really isn't a spoiler since the film is cyclical and starts at the end, after everything has gone down.
Between the two, along with a series of other subplots, pressure from outside sources ultimately proves to be the downfall, especially when it comes to Shinji. Even if they know what they're doing is wrong, a charismatic person will get the best of their better judgment and lead to their ultimate failure. It's heartbreaking to watch as people who should have plenty of opportunity screwing up their lives because they are listening to an obviously bad influence.
It's a strange picture to watch at times, since there's a feeling that Kitano is trying to explain to himself why he crashed the bike. There's a scene very late in the picture showing the aftermath of an accident, and knowing the history of the production, one wonders how much of his own story Kitano put in. While one should separate the art from the artist, even subconsciously a lot of your own story can seep in, and considering this film's dramatic birth, one wonders just how much Kitano was influenced by himself.
Yet, even then, it ends on a hopeful note, as things start over again, perhaps with people learning from their mistakes and no longer letting themselves be dominated by a stronger personality. It certainly started over again for Kitano himself, as he went on to make some of the best films of his career, and also Brother.
Also, I would do unspeakable things for a big shiny Kitano Blu Ray set. Just saying.
Showing posts with label takeshi kitano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label takeshi kitano. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Johnny Mnemonic
Here's a question, do people realize what the cheesy parts of the present are? Will there be something about 2009 that people will look back and say "my god, what were we collectively thinking?" Johnny Mnemonic - a film which a guy I knew could never, ever pronounce the name of - has me curious, because this is a very cheesy movie, in an early '90s kind of way.
The story requires an opening text scroll - with lasers! - so you know it's good. In short, it's the future, as indicated by a title card that says INTERNET 2021, and there's a disease called NAS that's making the rounds. The popular rapper apparently gives people spasms, and this is in some way related to Keanu Reeves, who is a courier. Not just a regular courier, he stores sensitive data in his brain, 160GB of it! Unfortunately, he decides to ignore the low disc warnings and shove 320GB in there, and this particular data is of interest to all manner of interests.
One has to mention the cast, since it has possibly the greatest variety of famous people who cannot act I have ever seen. We've got the aforementioned Keanu Reeves, who is quite effective at playing a man who has had people poke around in his brain more than is probably advisable. Direct to video superstars Dolph Lundgren and Udo Keir show up, not especially popular rapper and scowling guy from Law and Order Ice-T plays a scowling guy with bad makeup. Musician and talk show host Henry Rollins proves that being either a musician or talk show host does not prepare you in any way for playing an angry doctor. There's also Dina Meyer as the obligatory love interest, but I have never heard of her.
In fact, there's precisely one actor in the lot who turns in the decent performance, and I believe I've mentioned him before (and will again very soon, if the DVD sitting on my desk is any indication). I'm talking about Takeshi Kitano, acclaimed film director and fascinating film presence, in a movie that's probably beneath him, but what can you do. The lucky Japanese got a version were his role was significantly expanded, but even here he's got the most character, the best delivery, and some great silly moments that I can't help but think he created all on his lonesome. Using his hand in a quacking duck pose is classic Kitano, for example.
Apart from everyone's favorite Japanese superstar, this is pretty much early 90s b-movie. Everything is lit with the most neon possible, the world's supply of smoke machines has been commandeered in order to make the futuristic city of Newark, New Jersey seem as futuristic as possible. Apparently in the future everything's on fire, and fire itself has turned hot pink and neon green. The general aesthetic of crap glued to other crap that was prevalent in the early 90s has been deployed in full force, and everyone looks like a drag queen except for Keanu Reeves, who has one of those really thin ties, and Kitano, who remains the only person who doesn't embarrass himself during the proceedings. The internet is accessed through the power of mime and looks like the worst CG in the world. The climactic sequence in particular looks like it belongs on the 3D0, not at the end of a major motion picture.
Inexplicably, however, it predicts the general function of the Nintendo Wii (albeit used for a phone). Huh.
I enjoyed this because I grew up in the 90s, but I'm not going to call it a great movie. The story is decent enough, but the performances are so bad and everything else so cheesy it gets in the way. The director - Robert Longo, who proceeded to never direct anything else again - is of the 'tilting the camera makes everything more exciting!' school of film making, and the 90s-ness of it oozes from every frame. If you're feeling a tinge of nostalgia for the early 90s, you could do worse, and it might prevent you from pulling out your favorite skinny tie, 3D0 and Ice-T records. Anything that keeps those Ice-T records stashed away counts as a good thing.
The story requires an opening text scroll - with lasers! - so you know it's good. In short, it's the future, as indicated by a title card that says INTERNET 2021, and there's a disease called NAS that's making the rounds. The popular rapper apparently gives people spasms, and this is in some way related to Keanu Reeves, who is a courier. Not just a regular courier, he stores sensitive data in his brain, 160GB of it! Unfortunately, he decides to ignore the low disc warnings and shove 320GB in there, and this particular data is of interest to all manner of interests.
One has to mention the cast, since it has possibly the greatest variety of famous people who cannot act I have ever seen. We've got the aforementioned Keanu Reeves, who is quite effective at playing a man who has had people poke around in his brain more than is probably advisable. Direct to video superstars Dolph Lundgren and Udo Keir show up, not especially popular rapper and scowling guy from Law and Order Ice-T plays a scowling guy with bad makeup. Musician and talk show host Henry Rollins proves that being either a musician or talk show host does not prepare you in any way for playing an angry doctor. There's also Dina Meyer as the obligatory love interest, but I have never heard of her.
In fact, there's precisely one actor in the lot who turns in the decent performance, and I believe I've mentioned him before (and will again very soon, if the DVD sitting on my desk is any indication). I'm talking about Takeshi Kitano, acclaimed film director and fascinating film presence, in a movie that's probably beneath him, but what can you do. The lucky Japanese got a version were his role was significantly expanded, but even here he's got the most character, the best delivery, and some great silly moments that I can't help but think he created all on his lonesome. Using his hand in a quacking duck pose is classic Kitano, for example.
Apart from everyone's favorite Japanese superstar, this is pretty much early 90s b-movie. Everything is lit with the most neon possible, the world's supply of smoke machines has been commandeered in order to make the futuristic city of Newark, New Jersey seem as futuristic as possible. Apparently in the future everything's on fire, and fire itself has turned hot pink and neon green. The general aesthetic of crap glued to other crap that was prevalent in the early 90s has been deployed in full force, and everyone looks like a drag queen except for Keanu Reeves, who has one of those really thin ties, and Kitano, who remains the only person who doesn't embarrass himself during the proceedings. The internet is accessed through the power of mime and looks like the worst CG in the world. The climactic sequence in particular looks like it belongs on the 3D0, not at the end of a major motion picture.
Inexplicably, however, it predicts the general function of the Nintendo Wii (albeit used for a phone). Huh.
I enjoyed this because I grew up in the 90s, but I'm not going to call it a great movie. The story is decent enough, but the performances are so bad and everything else so cheesy it gets in the way. The director - Robert Longo, who proceeded to never direct anything else again - is of the 'tilting the camera makes everything more exciting!' school of film making, and the 90s-ness of it oozes from every frame. If you're feeling a tinge of nostalgia for the early 90s, you could do worse, and it might prevent you from pulling out your favorite skinny tie, 3D0 and Ice-T records. Anything that keeps those Ice-T records stashed away counts as a good thing.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Glory to the Filmmaker!
Today, we return to Takeshi Kitano, and visit a movie I had lying on my hard drive because I can't find a DVD release in this country.
For a comedian, Takeshi Kitano doesn't direct very many comedies. This is only the second overt comedy from him I've seen, the other being Takeshis'. He also did a movie called Getting Any? that I've never seen that is also a comedy. Takeshis' was brilliant, in its way, even if the story seemed impenetrable on first viewing. It was visually inventive, often amusing, and a joy to watch no matter how out there it managed to be. It's easily one of my favorite movies, though not something anyone else could possibly enjoy unless they knew his other movies and had a high tolerance for free associative weirdness. I fit into both categories, so it's the film for me.
Glory to the Filmmaker is a bit less weird. It functions almost at a sketch comedy, with scenes mostly derived around the gag rather than how they relate to any sort of plot. It's about Kitano and his fiberglass doppelganger, as he tries to figure out how to make a movie that doesn't involve gangsters in any way. As a result, we get to watch a number of parodies of Japanese films, and learn why Kitano is bad at making them. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, like all sketch comedy. Eventually, it turns into something else entirely, but it maintains the whole sketch comedy atmosphere.
It also doesn't work as well as perhaps it might. Part of the problem is how it's enthusiastically half-assed. Wires are always visible, there's some obvious green screen, and the sets are clearly cheap. Some of this was clearly done for effect, and some stuff does work. The dummy wranglers that can be seen whenever the dummy needs to be moved on its own never fail to be amusing. However, Kitano films usually have a sense of flair and style. This doesn't have nearly as much, and that's disappointing.
Still it's clearly a Kitano film. He's still completely obsessed with suicide (there must be 50 ways to kill your fiberglass copy), he still uses the anti-reaction shot to great effect, and the shots are often quite clever and interesting. It's just a bit sillier than usual. When you reach a late scene when a gigantic red penis getting played like a guitar (it makes less sense in context), you have a sudden desire to forgive all of the movie's faults because you know that this is clearly the work of a mad genius, and for all it's flaws, it's at least very unique.
Between Takeshis' and this, I get a feeling that Kitano is reflecting on his life's work. Some people would write an autobiography, he's decided to make films that reflect on what's important in life and what his legacy is. As he is a suicidal clown, I wonder if he isn't giving himself enough credit, by constantly mocking the work that made him famous. But I will continue to indulge him, because he continues to make movies like nobody else.
Don't forget to win me a car, okay guys?
For a comedian, Takeshi Kitano doesn't direct very many comedies. This is only the second overt comedy from him I've seen, the other being Takeshis'. He also did a movie called Getting Any? that I've never seen that is also a comedy. Takeshis' was brilliant, in its way, even if the story seemed impenetrable on first viewing. It was visually inventive, often amusing, and a joy to watch no matter how out there it managed to be. It's easily one of my favorite movies, though not something anyone else could possibly enjoy unless they knew his other movies and had a high tolerance for free associative weirdness. I fit into both categories, so it's the film for me.
Glory to the Filmmaker is a bit less weird. It functions almost at a sketch comedy, with scenes mostly derived around the gag rather than how they relate to any sort of plot. It's about Kitano and his fiberglass doppelganger, as he tries to figure out how to make a movie that doesn't involve gangsters in any way. As a result, we get to watch a number of parodies of Japanese films, and learn why Kitano is bad at making them. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't, like all sketch comedy. Eventually, it turns into something else entirely, but it maintains the whole sketch comedy atmosphere.
It also doesn't work as well as perhaps it might. Part of the problem is how it's enthusiastically half-assed. Wires are always visible, there's some obvious green screen, and the sets are clearly cheap. Some of this was clearly done for effect, and some stuff does work. The dummy wranglers that can be seen whenever the dummy needs to be moved on its own never fail to be amusing. However, Kitano films usually have a sense of flair and style. This doesn't have nearly as much, and that's disappointing.
Still it's clearly a Kitano film. He's still completely obsessed with suicide (there must be 50 ways to kill your fiberglass copy), he still uses the anti-reaction shot to great effect, and the shots are often quite clever and interesting. It's just a bit sillier than usual. When you reach a late scene when a gigantic red penis getting played like a guitar (it makes less sense in context), you have a sudden desire to forgive all of the movie's faults because you know that this is clearly the work of a mad genius, and for all it's flaws, it's at least very unique.
Between Takeshis' and this, I get a feeling that Kitano is reflecting on his life's work. Some people would write an autobiography, he's decided to make films that reflect on what's important in life and what his legacy is. As he is a suicidal clown, I wonder if he isn't giving himself enough credit, by constantly mocking the work that made him famous. But I will continue to indulge him, because he continues to make movies like nobody else.
Don't forget to win me a car, okay guys?
Friday, April 10, 2009
Violent Cop
In this series on movies that are important to me and how I view film, I start with, of all things, a highly obscure Japanese police film. Not only that, I don't even remember the story for the most part, and what little I do remember is quite generic. It's a movie about a violent cop, and some people who mess with said violent cop, and some other stuff happens. So, why do I even bring it up? Clearly I'm no expert on it.
The reason why lies in a bunch of French film critics from the 50s and 60s. Apart from eating copious amounts of cheese and doing other stereotypically french things, they had this theory called the "auteur theory". It stated that the director of a film was the ultimate author (or auteur if you're French) of the final product. It's a good theory, even if auteur is probably not the right word to use. It's more like the arranger of a musical piece. The notes and words are all laid out beforehand, but the arranger makes them into the final product. A great arranger - and I'm going to be mentioning stuff that has appeared on Album du Jour because that's what got me thinking about this - will take someone else's song and through their talent and style, make it into something their own. See, every Johnny Cash cover ever. A bad arranger will take a great song - let's say Warren Zevon's Poor Poor Pitiful Me - and turn it into an awful country song with a strange glimmer of good beneath the rubble (Terri Clark is the culprit in this case). That's the same thing that separates a great director from a bad one.
The point I'm circling around like a procrastinating shark is that there was one movie that finally made me believe in the auteur theory, if my own variation on it. It's a movie with a fairly typical script which a Japanese actor and television personality, most recognizable from that MXC show of all things, decided to direct after the original director fell ill. He's become one of my favorite directors, though he does all of his own scripts now, scripts which are becoming progressively stranger and don't seem to attempt to make sense anymore. This is the first film directed by Takeshi Kitano, and it's probably the most atypical typical movie I've ever seen.
It's all in how it's shot, a style apparently born out of inexperience but that is striking and fascinating. Reportedly the heavy emphasis on static shots was derived from a fear of getting equipment in frame, but it's striking and bold. The sequence I remember most involves a chase scene which has all of the energy and excitement drained out of it. It makes a point about chase scenes, and the futility of the escape. Yet, it does this by being the opposite of how most people would have shot the scene. It's better in spite of being, from a purely objective and film school-y standpoint, wrong.
The film is made of sequences shot in a way that nobody in their right might would have done, and stronger for it. It takes a typical script, and treats it in a way that acts almost as a commentary on the story it's trying to tell. Objectively, it's wrong, bearing no relation to how a film is expected to look. But subjectively, it's genius. It sold me on auteur theory simply by being a film nobody else would make. That's why a film I barely remember is one of the most important to how I view film.
The reason why lies in a bunch of French film critics from the 50s and 60s. Apart from eating copious amounts of cheese and doing other stereotypically french things, they had this theory called the "auteur theory". It stated that the director of a film was the ultimate author (or auteur if you're French) of the final product. It's a good theory, even if auteur is probably not the right word to use. It's more like the arranger of a musical piece. The notes and words are all laid out beforehand, but the arranger makes them into the final product. A great arranger - and I'm going to be mentioning stuff that has appeared on Album du Jour because that's what got me thinking about this - will take someone else's song and through their talent and style, make it into something their own. See, every Johnny Cash cover ever. A bad arranger will take a great song - let's say Warren Zevon's Poor Poor Pitiful Me - and turn it into an awful country song with a strange glimmer of good beneath the rubble (Terri Clark is the culprit in this case). That's the same thing that separates a great director from a bad one.
The point I'm circling around like a procrastinating shark is that there was one movie that finally made me believe in the auteur theory, if my own variation on it. It's a movie with a fairly typical script which a Japanese actor and television personality, most recognizable from that MXC show of all things, decided to direct after the original director fell ill. He's become one of my favorite directors, though he does all of his own scripts now, scripts which are becoming progressively stranger and don't seem to attempt to make sense anymore. This is the first film directed by Takeshi Kitano, and it's probably the most atypical typical movie I've ever seen.
It's all in how it's shot, a style apparently born out of inexperience but that is striking and fascinating. Reportedly the heavy emphasis on static shots was derived from a fear of getting equipment in frame, but it's striking and bold. The sequence I remember most involves a chase scene which has all of the energy and excitement drained out of it. It makes a point about chase scenes, and the futility of the escape. Yet, it does this by being the opposite of how most people would have shot the scene. It's better in spite of being, from a purely objective and film school-y standpoint, wrong.
The film is made of sequences shot in a way that nobody in their right might would have done, and stronger for it. It takes a typical script, and treats it in a way that acts almost as a commentary on the story it's trying to tell. Objectively, it's wrong, bearing no relation to how a film is expected to look. But subjectively, it's genius. It sold me on auteur theory simply by being a film nobody else would make. That's why a film I barely remember is one of the most important to how I view film.
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