Another woman

This time she still has short hair, but it’s blonde, reminiscent rather rather of Monica Vitti than Anna Karina. It seems women in are either exactly like Anna Karina or the exact opposite. This one is exact opposite even though her acting style is strangely similar; at the end of the day, these Nouvelle Vague girls didn’t really have to do anything else but look pretty and dance around a little.

“Cléo de 5 à 7” is a little more sophisticated than that though. The character talks a lot and with the backdrop of Godard’s Paris, this film looks like just one of the other Nouvelle Vagues, with the difference that Agnès Varda’s story is way more realistic. Even though she leads a life that is almost completely detached from ours, she behaves exactly like a shallow pop singer would, and through this experience of her life, slowly develops more mature feelings and thoughts. This evolution in just 2 hours is quite impressive, especially since it seems to come very naturally.

When the “Beaches of Agnès” came out, I decided that I wanted to see one of her films and know about her more before seeing it, and among all her movies, “Cleo” was the one that fascinated me the most. I like to see first movies of directors I like – whereas some are absolutely brilliant, such as “Les 400 Coups”, others are good beginning, like “Following”. Considering how amazingly great “À Bout de souffle” is, it is perhaps customary for Nouvelle Vague directors to start off very strong – Cleo follows a simple premise, but the execution surpasses anything I have expected. It is a lot like a “Vivre sa Vie” in how it portrays one single character, but does not show any of Godard’s symbolism; the most piquant similarity, both main characters watch a film at some point in the film, shows the difference very strongly: Whereas Godard’s version is a very symbol-laden, meaningful scene with many layers, Varda’s is an homage to comedic silent films, showing the love of life of Cleo’s comparably happy friends. Finally, the best part in the film is most definitely her encounter with the soldier (beautifully set in the Parc Montsouris) when she found in a stranger all these things she could not find within her friends.

Speaking of that soldier, Antoine Bourseriller looks like Joe E. Brown (Osgood) and the last shot of “Cleo” is strangely reminiscent of the last scene of “Some Like it Hot” – what irony. Ahaha.

I enjoyed the film, mostly because it incorporates almost every Nouvelle Vague element that I love so much. Before this film, I have never actually touched anything else besides Godard and Truffaut, and now I understand what I have missed out. After months of lack of French films, it is time to resume these efforts.

Women cook too much

Departures

I think I have been dreaming about this film, but now I am speechless. (Okay, technically this is not true. What I actually dreamed was that my whole family was taken hostage on a ship and the dream ended with how we sabotaged the crew on the ship and got away. I woke up in the moment when we all jumped into water.)

I noticed recently how Japan has not won the Oscar for Best Foreign Film for quite a long time, despite many interesting entries over the years. While there were Japanese films nominated all the time, there is a huge jump from the 50s until the year of 2008, when “Departures” finally made it. Is this film really the best Japanese film in the last 50 years? Hardly. Neither is “Nowhere in Africa” compared to other German films, which I have not seen but imagine to be dreadful. In terms of Oscar, “Departures” can perhaps be compared to “The Live of Others” – I liked both!

This is the type of movie that has something new for you in storage even when you know what the premise is (failed cellist becomes encoffiner). A story like this has not been told before, and certainly not this way – yet at the same time it feels realistic and close to our own lives. Everybody dies and everybody has some kind of job (even your lack of job can be a job description, in some sense at least), and this film brings these two important aspects of life together.

With a lovely portrayal of Japanese countryside, I thought that it was the perfect environment for the main character to find his true roots. The end came off a little bit cheesy, but so did “The Live of Others”, I suppose. Aside from the fact that the wife’s character annoyed me heavily during most of the film (she is just too cheerful!), the film was a lovely display of humanity, especially in those short scenes at the end, when Daigo has finally become comfortable with his job. Personally I think being an encoffiner is a wonderfully dignified line of work, but I believe it is hard to put a topic like death onto screen, and by that I mean in a serious way, without going the tearjerking Hollywood route.

On an emotional level, I don’t think “Departures” hit me as hard as some other films I have seen recently, but in general, I found it to be a wonderful film, which strangely prompted this urge of wanting to peacefully live in Japan’s countryside. I have this imagination that these old-style wooden houses, simple bath houses and hilly roads would be a lovely existence.

Why am I so fascinated with Korean films?

drrt When I stumbled upon the Korean Blogathon, my first reaction touched upon the existential “to be or not to be” question of this whole blog: What am I supposed to write about at all? While I was able to bring out a list with rankings such as in the preparatory posting a few days ago in just a few minutes, I am having a hard time both at writing reviews or blog postings in general. If I blog about a film I like, how can I do justice to it with the little time I spend on blogging about it, including research on the film, its director, actors and historical background? If I wouldn’t like films, why would I even bother with blogging them at all?

All these considerations make me afraid of tackling a topic such as this one, but sometimes I just really, really want to. The question why I particularly like Korean films is relatively important, because it does not go well with my general regard on film: I typically tend to watch films that are critically acclaimed. Those which are not critically acclaimed tend to be either very random choices, or generally popular in wherever country I am at currently, or I have a certain bond and knowledge of what is surrounding these films: I was born in China, have lived in France, I grew up in Germany with Hollywood films and I know extensively about these countries’ history as well as a few other European countries. With these countries, adding in the UK (Kubrick!), Italy (Antonioni!) and Spain (Almodovar!!), I know very well why I would have a particular interest for films from these countries. For Japan, the only country among all these I have never been to, a lot of my interest is derived from anime and manga culture which, carefully observed, can give you a connection to a particular culture and thus make you appreciate films like Departures even without having been there.

What to say about Korean cinema? Since I noticed how I really am not doing a good job at giving an overview on actual films and names, I think that gaguri has done an amazing introduction to Korean films, though I am a little less of a fan of Kim Ki-duk and mourn the omission of JSA and Take Care of My Cat. But he knocks down the most important categories: Fluffy love stories, black comedies, artsy yet recognized films, dramatic thrillers and ware epos.


Bin-Jip’s (3-Iron’s) masterpiece shot, beautifully honored at the Centre Pompidou Paris

Korean films are entirely different and there is no apparent reason why I would find them great. Unlike anime, I wholeheartedly dislike Korean dramas and find most of them utterly cheesy, stupid and pointless. While there certainly are similarities to Japan and China, my impression is that Korea differs from them just as much as the two rivaling countries are different from each other. I find this to be most apparent in film history. Just by browsing the Wikipedia articles on Chinese and Japanese cinema in comparison to relatively poorly written one on Korean cinema, we can see the biggest difference: Whereas China is beyond its so-called 6th generation of film-makers and Japan’s golden era was merely 20 years behind Hollywood’s, Korea’s cinema was virtually non-existing until the new millennium. (I am not counting in the 50’s during which Korea seems to have tried to become a second Japan. Those movies are unknown and not particularly influential.)

On a side note, I am personally quite attracted to this aspect. Just like it is comparably easy to understand the field of systems biology very, very well because it is a new, emerging field, it is relatively easy to get a good picture of what we would call Korean cinema. Unlike critics who can spend a large portion of their life actually watching films, I will not be able to see more than perhaps 100 films per year, attempting to cover over 100 years of film history over the whole world. Catching up with 10 years of films is much less hard, especially if it’s the 10 years paralleling my own youth.


Take Care of My Cat, so overlooked!

What makes the fact that pre-2000 Korean cinema did not produce many masterpieces besides exceptional titles such as The Housemaid even more intriguing is the extent to which the number of interesting Korean films have exploded ever since. Last year, when I looked into the library shelf (there was only one!) with Korean films, I did not only find a whole ton of crappy love comedies, but virtually every good Korean film I have seen along with secondary literature. Starting the 2000’s, the government of South Korea seems to have promoted the cultural export of their films, and it was during that time that South Korean films became the new fad, after Iranian films and leaving their place to Romanian films, now that the international audience has become more used to the likes of Park Chan-wook and Bong Joon-ho. As for myself, I find it impressive that this fad existed at all, considering that it sprouted out of nowhere.

That brings me to two most interesting aspects of Korean cinema: First of all, Korean films are really popular in Korea. Sure, they love their Hollywood blockbusters just as much as we do and try to mirror their concepts with lower quality (with Tidal Wave or D-War for example), but this only shows that this country likes their own films. There is a strong interplay between what the Korean film industry and the audience. Not everybody in Korean films is a crazy murderer as in Oldboy; typically these are films which please a mass audience and where humor is almost always an well-inserted element. In that respect, these films are not just stories well-told but reflect the country’s state, customs and problems in a similar way as German silent films during the Weimar Republic. They are a country’s dreams projected onto celluloid – or an iPhone, for that matter.


JSA, just seeing this picture makes me want to cry.

Because older Korean films have such little influence, this effect seem to become even stronger. In Korea, what a film mostly has to do is to speak to its audience, not to reflect upon itself, which happens all too often especially with Japanese films. It seems to me that Japanese films feel compelled to be a response to its old masters. Just by looking at Satoshi Kon’s 100 films list strengthens this impression. Japanese cinema can never turn their eyes away from Kurosawa, Mizoguchi and Ozu; they are strongly influenced by the omnipresence of mass media, which includes their animation culture which gave rise to Miyazaki’s universal acclaim and influenced not only Quentin Tarantino, but mostly their own film makers. Aside from the Big 3 of the 50’s, throughout of Japan’s film history, there have been impressive film makers of the likes of Imamura, Teshigahara, Oshima, Kitano. On a less artistic level, Japanese cinema has also been very rich in films that are “just good”, Itami’s Tampopo being its prime example in my opinion. All these aspects are not relevant for Korean cinema, whose directors have the refreshing freedom to practically do whatever they want – as long as the audience and/or the critics likes it, and perhaps ignoring even that. In Korea, the freshness of a democratic yet rather weak political system with relative wealth (making it possible for you to deal with more complex topics than the question why we have less food than others) coupled with young, energetic and sheer creative genius are perhaps the strongest reason why.

Apart from that, maybe I was just immensely impressed by JSA, the first one I have ever seen. Maybe. And I know this is very personal and almost irrational, because Shii does not particularly like it.

John Galliano is into the 20’s style lately

drrt

Pandora’s Box

And now he lost his job. Well, Pabst was a German, albeit actually “one of the good ones”. I thought it’s a shame that he didn’t make it to Hollywood or at least France, because he might have been able to further his talent with something fresher than nazi propaganda films. This is now the third film of his that I am watching, and while I do not find him quite as impressive as Stroheim, and his stories by far not as good as Lubitsch, I think he has a great feeling for drama – and Louise Brook’s face.

Unlike the somewhat pointless story of “Diary of a Lost Girl”, I knew that this film could establish my definite opinion on Pabst which would go beyond esthetic considerations. (I mean, that hairstyle is just so brilliant. Even Jean Seberg is no match for that.) No, Lulu’s story is special. I started reading Wedekind’s play back then when I used to read a lot, and have taken an especial liking on these prostitutes à la Marguerite Gautier, Nana, Horváth’s characters or, well, Lulu. Women in general were portrayed in quite an interesting way at the time, always as some sort of lonely but not necessarily evil femme fatale. These books analyze our fascination with them and in every one of them, these women are ultimately drawn into their fall. Just like Lulu. However, among these ladies from the demi-monde, I thought that Lulu was a rather unlikable one; one who never loves (in this matter I differ with the critics) and ultimately one who just does not seem very colorful to me. On top of that, I probably was let down after reading “Frühlings Erwachen”, which might just as well be my favorite play of all times. That book was overflowing with taboo and the eroticism that came with it, Melchior is perhaps my biggest fictional crush of all times. In comparison to that impression, “Erdgeist”, the first part of the Lulu story, failed to impress me.

When it comes to the film though, I feel differently now. It is the interplay between Louise Brooks’ acting and Pabst’s mise en scène that shows all of Lulu’s blatant emotional misery. The actress probably saw very clearly that this was the role of her life; the short-haired, flat-chested woman whose sex appeal comes from her natural beauty and an irresistible smile. In this film, I was actually able to immerse yourself into my fascination with this character who gets whatever she wants, but ultimately gets nothing.

Of course, the great quality of the DVD helps. I mean… four audio tracks, really? I couldn’t decide what I liked the best (probably the modern orchestra), but I was impressed with all of those accompanimnents. On top of that, there is a lovely audio commentary with insights to the film’s backstory and a whole second DVD with extras, albeit those a little less interesting (a stills gallery, really?). Amazing, really. I guess this is what you pay for when you buy a Criterion DVD.

If I hadn’t decided to let my hair grow long for good, I would bob my hair immediately. Lulu is like one of those supermodels you definitely don’t want to be like – but you want to be closer to them. Even though this is most definitely not Pabst’s intention, by achieving that he created quite a masterpiece in which almost every aspect of the Weimar Republic appears: society’s dictation of morals, wasteful luxuries before the economic crisis, the failure of relationship between men and women, serial killers and the societal repression of something. I definitely want to see Pabst’s Threepenny Opera and, as an Inglorious Basterds fan, his Piz-Palü.

Hitchcock wannabe

drrt

The Chaser

Oh my goodness, this movie pissed me off. It was gruesome for no reason, built up a lot of suspense and cheesy mother-daughter-scenes and for the most part, the movie seemed to want to do nothing but frustrate the audience, in this case me. I didn’t like how the story unfolded, I can’t see Korean men being brutally impolite at each other and I feel like everything that happened was in vain after all.

On the other hand, it was quite a great ride. I loved the depiction of the incompetent police (ultimately the reason why the woman had to die after all!) and the main character grew on me like few do. He’s a lot like Great Teacher Onizuka who is being misunderstood as a ‘worthless pimp’ but ultimately is the only person who truly ended up caring about somebody after all – even without a hint of a romantic interest. Besides the victim, he was the only likable person in the whole story and this mix of rough exterior and behavior with his earnest emotional character.

There is another redeeming aspect about the film – its subtle, somewhat black and always very Korean humour. I had to chuckle every single time they mentioned the shit-thrower, and besides the fact that he delivered the much needed comedic relief for the film, he actually plays an important role of the police’s reaction to the whole ordeal. In a strange way, the well-placed insertion of the police*s incapability and corruption was perhaps my favorite element in the film.

So, the bottom line is I thought “The Chaser” was alright. The action scenes were great, the actors were right up my alley and some elements of the story indicate a great potential for… something greater? I am surprised at how much acclaim the story garnered with the critics, because I still believe they could have done better. It was a directional debut after all.

On the Korean Blogathon

drrt

Here’s the banner with a link which should explain everything. It’s one of those group blog things and has been successfully done with Japanese films (the list of postings is inspiring! This post about the DVD label that released “Ai no Mukidashi” is especially lovely).

Since I love these kinds of projects, what should I blog about? Well, doing my favorite thing, which is making lists, would probably be too easy. Plus, I have not seen all that many Korean films, even though it’s possibly my favorite – how ridiculous is a top 10 out of ~20 films?

Speaking of which, the easily-made ranking is exactly as follows, and includes almost every Korean film I have seen. Since I kept adding things to the list during the day, it might not be complete – but almost. Incidentally, numbers 1 to 5 are most likely part of my all time favorite movies, which is something that definitely cannot be said about the tally of Japanese or Chinese movies I have seen. Thus it is not exaggerated to say that I have a strong weakness (lol) for Korean films, and that was even before I started liking movies at all. But what can I really contribute which I would think is meaningful at all? I don’t want to do a review (I do that all the time) nor a list (for aforementinoned reasons), but I don’t think I have the capability of doing a film analysis post which would live up to my own expectations. Most likely I will come up with some meta-essay or so. Look forward to it(?)

1. JSA
2. Welcome to Dongmakgol
3. Take care of my cat
4. Old Boy
5. Silmido
6. The Host
7. I’m a Cyborg but that’s OK
8. My Dear Enemy
9. Lady Vengeance
10. The Housemaid (the old one)
11. Thirst
12. Bin-Jip
13. Barking dogs never bite
14. A tale of two sisters
15. Members of the Funeral
13. Aachi & Ssipak
16. Treeless Mountain
17. The King and the Clown
18. Wonderful Days
18. South of the Border
19. Arumdabda
20. My Sassy Girl
21. Shiri
22. The Good Lawyer’s Wife
23. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance

Continue reading “On the Korean Blogathon”

This does sound like a Faulkner screenplay

drrt

The Big Sleep

I have absolutely no idea why I have been watching this film. Perhaps it’s the film-noir-ness. I must have gotten this title from somewhere and I guess the combination of Lauren Bacall of Humphrey Bogart in a Howard Hawks film was just too tempting. I love Howard Hawks’ films and I have actually never seen anything with Lauren Bacall before!

Every single Film noir in this world relies upon its main actress, and what I find most fascinating about them is the fact that these main actresses are never ever traditionally beautiful. It’s not like there is any imperfection with them – in fact, almost all of them have impeccable faces and figures, but more that you just would never say they have a face like Kate Moss. But while Kate Moss looks like intelligence has never touched her, these Film noir actresses are this amazing combination of sex appeal and intelligence that attracts me even as a woman. There is the more natural Rosalind Russell or Shirley MacLaine type, and then there is the glamorous Film noir type… and while we are dealing with a relatively tame example, Lauren Bacall pulled off the mysterious, sort of dangerous yet irresistible woman wonderfully.

Apart from her presence and the odd chemistry between her and Bogart (the real world couple feeling didn’t reach me at all?) the film’s storyline was nothing all that special. I didn’t find the story as confusing as most critics seem to, and thought that directing and cinematography were spectacular, as expected from Hawks. In the end, I didn’t really mind that it was never revealed who killed that poor chauffeur, and what happened to the the main characters was strangely all I cared about.

The best thing about the film is its dialogue – witty, poignant and very, very dark. For some reason, I enjoyed the way everybody treats each other with a cold, smart-ass attitude, leading to almost screwball-comedy-like lines. Maybe William Faulkner actually was good at writing a screenplay after all? I don’t know, but somehow I liked the result.

PS. My favorite genre of all times are screwball comedies. Other favorite genres of note are the Nouvelle Vague, Weimarer Republik/German expressionism and animationed films. But I don’t know if I should include film noirs into my favorite genres, although I am highly intrigued by them, similar to western.

Why have I never seen this before?

drrt

Seven Samurai

I have this very bad tendency of complaining about best 10 films lists, because I personally find them less good. They are certainly all good films – just not that great. For those that I have seen, this statement can easily be extended to the best 20 films in the 1000 Greatest Films, though I was highly impressed by “8 1/2” and absolutely love “Sunrise”. But now, there is “Seven Samurai”.

Oh my, it’s that good! 3 1/2 hours of goodness! Considering what a dramatic story this is, Kurosawa managed to insert some slow, but incredibly suspenseful scenes. Ahhh. I spent most of the film speculating about what is going to happen, and expected a manly tearfest at the end of the film, similar to “Silmido”. But I didn’t realize that Kurosawa is a storyteller, not one who builds up on cheap sentiments. “Seven Samurai” is a fascinating mélange of a very realistic story but with clichéd, staple characters – except in this case, “Seven Samurai” is the one that set the cliché, it is everybody else who followed the pattern.

I am a little sad that some of the samurai didn’t get as much screentime as I thought they deserved. Kikuchiyo (lovingly referred to by yours truly as Chiyo-chan) was clearly the main character, as he was given a tragic past and perhaps contributed the most to the success of the whole thing. Head-scratching Kambei and amazingly capable, avid runner Kyuzo also got a lot of screen time, which made me happy. But they could have made more out of Heihachi who ended up being nothing but this worthless villager’s friend, or the other good-natured fellow who immediately agreed to help.

Well, the villagers. Perhaps the best portrait of the whole story, with the fathers scared that their daughters might get raped, the village elder who doesn’t want to leave his house (but annoyingly also drags his family in) and many, many crying people. Oh God they cried too much. It’s a very sad asian custom to do that, ugh. At the same time, I have a strong sympathy and dislike for those villagers, and was deeply impressed by Chiyo-chan’s outburst of anger when speaking about them. I thought those few lines were the creation of genius. It reminded me a little bit of the end of M, or some of the lines of Hindemith’s Cardillac. And of course all this “Society made these people evil” kind of talk sounds very communistic, in the Marxian sense, but hey, don’t we secretly all agree?

I think this movie is a masterpiece, much more so than “Rashomon”. I am still reluctant to believe that Kurosawa really is the best Japanese director of his time (especially since I think I like “Ukigusa” even more, I have a much deeper adoration for Teshigahara’s style and have never seen a Mizoguchi). Nevertheless, “Seven Samurai” is an absolute must-see; you can’t call yourself japanophile without having seen this.

Portuguese is the odd one out

drrt

Singularidades de uma Raparinga Loura

I am planning on seeing all the Berlinale movies that I am interested in but have not seen. So here’s the first one – a 60 minute pearl by 100-year old Oliveira. I think his age actually shows very heavily. The film feels like it’s from a different era, a color film that feels more black and white and old-fashioned than actual black and white movies are (think “À bout de souffle”!)

But really, the old-fashioned style of the film is absolutely lovely. It takes 30 minutes (i.e. half of the film) for the exposition of the story, until the moment happens that will actually set the plot in motion, like some event at the beginning of the second act of a play. A few turbulent things happen, until 2 minutes before the end of the film, the story gets wrapped up in a poignant, super short conclusion. The style and composition of the film made me vividly remember Oliveira’s “I’m Going Home” and realize that this director has the unusual gift of making films that incredibly slow, but not excruciatingly so. I am so immersed in the mood he is setting up that I never mind the slowness, or the fact that the plot is incredibly short.

On a side note, there aren’t that many Porguese movies out there. This is a rarity, and oh my God, the language also sounds so, so, so Polish?!

My first priority is seeing the one from the Berlinale I attended (of which I also saw “The International” and “John Rabe”.) So far, I was happy with all the films I have seen, including this one.