Monthly Archives: August 2013

Stephen reviews: Talking Head (1992)

talkinghead_1 Talking Head [トーキング・ヘッド] (1992)

Starring Shigeru Chiba, Fumihiko Tachiki, Masaya Kato, Mayumi Tanaka, Natsumi Sasaki, Shinichi Ishihara, Takashi Matsuyama, Yoshikatsu Fujiki

Directed by Mamoru Oshii

A place where one can speak accurately about a movie, if such a place exists, is probably only inside the theater when the movie is actually in progress.

And I thought last week’s review was hard to classify. The above quote buried in the second half of Talking Head sums up the entire premise of the film. If I were going to follow that advice, I would end this review right here. But that wouldn’t make for much of a review, now would it? That takes me to the hard part. Just how do I describe this movie?

It’s not a documentary. It’s not a drama. It’s not action or romance. It’s subtly sprinkled with Mamoru Oshii’s inexplicable humor, but it’s not a comedy either. It pretends to be a murder mystery, but it’s really not. There is no killer really, unless it is Oshii himself who kills the characters for the purpose of advancing the conversation, not the plot. A conversation. That, perhaps, is the best description of Talking Head. A conversation about film, done in the only place one can speak accurately on the subject: during the movie itself.

Thieves After Dark (1984)

Thieves After Dark [Les voleurs de la nuit] (1984)

Starring Véronique Jannot, Bobby Di Cicco, Victor Lanoux, Stéphane Audran, Camille de Casabianca, Micheline Presle, Rachel Salik, Claude Chabrol, Marthe Villalonga, Andréas Voutsinas

Directed by Samuel Fuller

Expectations: Very low.

Thieves After Dark is arguably the rarest of Sam Fuller’s feature films, but unfortunately it’s also the worst one I’ve seen. This one barely even resembles a Sam Fuller film outside of the scenes that bookend it; if it weren’t for his incredible cameo, I’d still be wondering if the people doing the titles had gotten confused. It’s watchable, but at times it’s almost painfully so. Thieves After Dark is supposedly a tribute to the French New Wave, but instead of exuding the detached, youthful spirit of the French New Wave films I’ve seen, it just comes off as a watered-down ’80s film without much in the way of anything, whether that’s entertainment, thought-provoking themes or nice visuals.

Based on the evidence at hand, Sam Fuller himself doesn’t seem too proud of this one either. In his autobiography it barely rates more than a couple of passing mentions, and every time it does come up it’s in a negative light. It can’t be a coincidence that the chapter where Sam Fuller discusses the film is also the one where he explains the book’s title, A Third Face. The third face is the face of a person on the inside, the one that no one sees and is only known to the person themselves. He tells us that you can’t lie to the third face, and then goes on to cautiously dance around talking about Thieves After Dark. I’m convinced that on the inside Fuller knew this wasn’t much of a movie, but he didn’t have the heart to plainly come out and say it. Just based on how much he passionately describes his other films, it’s clear that he knew defeat when he saw it.

The Frighteners (1996)

Starring Michael J. Fox, Trini Alvarado, Peter Dobson, John Astin, Jeffrey Combs, Dee Wallace, Jake Busey, Chi McBride, Jim Fyfe, Troy Evans, Julianna McCarthy, R. Lee Ermey, Elizabeth Hawthorne

Directed by Peter Jackson

Expectations: High. I love this.

The Frighteners is Peter Jackson’s transitional film, bridging the gap between his small, imaginative indie movies, and his blockbusters to come. The Frighteners isn’t a perfect amalgamation of these things, but it does represent the closest that Jackson could probably come to replicating the manic energy of his early work while under the watchful eye of Hollywood producers. Thankfully, Jackson’s executive producer here was Robert Zemeckis, who let Jackson be himself while trusting him to deliver a fun film. Jackson definitely delivers the goods, but it is also such a tonally varied film that it completely alienated most of the American audience, causing the film to undeservedly flop.

In addition to the wildly flip-flopping tone that goes from absurd comedy to grisly horror without a moment’s notice, the plot itself is nowhere close to being a traditional “Point A to Point B” Hollywood plot. Instead, the film opens with a thrilling scene that we have no context on, and then moves into introducing us to the many characters around town. This gives The Frighteners something of a small-town, Stephen King novel vibe, as Jackson sets up the world that his characters will play in before really going for the jugular. And like a good Stephen King novel, The Frighteners might take a little while to get going, but it is still engaging its audience with exciting and whimsical things around every corner.

The Champion of Champions (1972)

The Champion of Champions [大地龍蛇] (1972)
AKA The Dragon and the Snake, The Dragon Snake, Hero of the Earth

Starring Chin Han, Lily Li Li-Li, Suen Liu, Suen Yuet, Lau Lai-Lai, Chui Fook-Sang, Hon Siu, Sek Fung, Miao Tian, Lee Yan-Wa

Directed by Lee Ga

Expectations: Low.

Shaw Brothers productions usually come with a base level of quality that is able to make even the most mundane of stories into an OK movie. The Champion of Champions is the exception to the rule and easily the worst film I’ve seen from them, proving that the Shaw studios did indeed produce at least one horrible movie during their long run in the business. And I’m a big fan, I can only imagine what a non-fan would think of this movie. I do have to give the movie the benefit of the doubt, as the print isn’t ideal and the subtitles were cut-off and especially hard to follow. But no amount of remastering and removable subtitles can fix all the problems with The Champion of Champions.

Due to that subtitle issue I mentioned, I’m not exactly 100% on the plot of the film. The opening credits play out over a couple of guys killing an entire government mansion full of people, everyone from the guards to the guys working the printing presses. But then no one mentions this ever again, and the two guys doing this weren’t even main characters. It’s possible that it’s related to another flashback we see about another character’s past and motive for revenge, but I honestly don’t know.

Forgotten Silver (1995)

Starring Peter Jackson, Jeffrey Thomas, Costa Botes, Marguerite Hurst, Leonard Maltin, Johnny Morris, Sam Neill, John O’Shea, Lindsay Shelton, Harvey Weinstein, Thomas Robins, Beatrice Ashton, Peter Corrigan, Sarah McLeod

Directed by Peter Jackson & Costa Botes

Expectations: High. I love this.

First Peter Jackson crafts the goriest film of all time, and then he follows it up with an Oscar-nominated indie drama. So what does he follow that up with? An incredibly enlightening documentary about a largely unknown figure in the history of film, that’s what. Forgotten Silver chronicles the quest of Peter Jackson and Costa Botes to uncover the legend of late New Zealand filmmaker Colin McKenzie, probably the most important figure in early film history.

Psych!

Ideally, it’d be best to see Forgotten Silver with no knowledge that it isn’t real, because directors Peter Jackson and Costa Botes have pulled off one hell of a sustained illusion. I did notice one overt clue for knowledgeable film fans (a Russian interviewee named “Alexandra Nevsky”), but even if you miss that one it’d be hard not to miss just how over-the-top and wild the life of Colin McKenzie is made out to be. For instance, after some stories of how Colin built his first camera onto his bicycle (and therefore created the first tracking shot), we’re told that he also made his own film stock, with an emulsion layer made of egg whites. CUT TO: a newspaper clipping that reads: “2000 Eggs Stolen.”

Stephen reviews: Tekkonkinkreet (2006)

tekkonkinkreet_1 Tekkonkinkreet [鉄コン筋クリート] (2006)

Starring Kazunari Ninomiya, Yu Aoi, Yusuke Iseya, Kankuro Kudo, Min Tanaka, Rokuro Naya, Tomomichi Nishimura, Mugihito, Masahiro Motoki

Directed by Michael Arias & Hiroaki Ando

There’s so much going on in this film that I scarcely know where to start. I guess I can start with the director. Michael Arias is obviously not Japanese, and his most notable credits are for producing The Animatrix, and helping design the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios. As you might expect from having such a seemingly out-of-place director, Tekkonkinkreet is odd. It’s difficult to even classify. At times it feels like an over-the-top action film. At times like a drama. And it always feels like a mindfuck.

Its style is very floaty, and it haphazardly ignores the laws of physics. Half the time the characters are leaping up or down buildings, often nearly flying. The character designs are kooky and not at all what you would expect of an anime. They look flat-out insane. Their contrast with the background art furthers the confusion. The characters are simple and cartoonish, while the backgrounds are detailed, vivid, and absolutely gorgeous. In retrospect, it should have been no surprise to find out that Studio Ghibli had a hand in the background design.

White Dog (1982)

Starring Kristy McNichol, Paul Winfield, Burl Ives, Jameson Parker, Parley Baer

Directed by Samuel Fuller

Expectations: Very high.

Racism is a learned behavior, but the interesting thing about the racism presented in White Dog is that dogs don’t see color lines. Late one night on a dark road, Julie (Kristy McNichol) hits a white dog with her car and takes it in. She falls in love with it, but soon she learns that the seemingly sweet dog is actually a “white dog,” trained specifically to attack black people. Fuller explored different aspects of racism throughout his career, and in White Dog, Fuller distills racism down to its core, vicious elements. There is no thought or human element involved in the dog’s decisions, he represents racism itself manifested as man’s best friend. But dogs are known for their capacity to learn, so the main drive of White Dog is whether or not this dog can be re-trained to accept black people as non-threatening.

If the core idea of White Dog seems somewhat outlandish and exaggerated, it is. Fuller uses melodrama and symbolism to skillfully tell his story, eliciting deep moments of thought and visceral response amidst what could also be described as a slasher film with a racist dog as the slasher. This bouillabaisse will definitely turn some people off, but for those willing to brave its depths, White Dog proves itself to be highly cinematic and deeply affecting. Fuller was always interested in pushing boundaries and confronting the audience with the harsh realities of the world that surrounded them, and the extreme moments of melodrama work perfectly to convey the stark themes of White Dog.