About Chocolate Parfaits

Untold Scandal

Writing a blogpost about “Dasepo Naughty Girls” left me totally exhausted. I guess I really wanted to explain why I liked it so much, and explain it well. In comparison to that, writing about “Untold Scandal” is significantly easier. There really are only three reasons why I am watching the film: 1. it’s the director of “Dasepo Naughty Girls”, 2. it’s on Netflix and 3. it has Jeon Doyeon in it.

Originally, only reason no.2 was relevant and the film caught my eye because I love ‘scandalous’ stories like this. Having finished the film though, I realized that the biggest merit of the film is its source material. “Les liaisons dangereuses” is one of the famous stories I like. Here are some others, in descending order of how obsessed I am with them: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Eugene Onegin, Letter from an Unknown Woman, Alice in Wonderland, Orpheus, and Iphigenie. (I am sure I forgot a few here, and tomorrow I’ll add them thinking “How could I ever forget about it?”) I also enjoy seeing the same story in another version, like “The Front Page” or “The Women”. It is all related to how it’s more interesting to see how a certain story is being told, not what exactly happens. I think that most bad adaptations of good books make this big mistake – just because “Anna Karenina” is brilliant will not make your movie great.

For “Les liaisons dangereuses”, I find it especially remarkable that I have read the majority of the book (OK I actually stopped right after the wonderfully proto-feminist monologue of the Marquise de Merteuil) and saw several adaptations of it. I still think that “Cruel Intentions” is a worthy adaptation, having garnered its cult following for a reason. Perhaps this is just my teenage nostalgia speaking, but I personally am amazed how much the adaptation makes sense. My first introduction into the story was with this film, and its end made me (correctly) guess that Valmont dies in a duel in the book.

The Korean adaptation also makes sense, but I found it to be much less elegant. “Les liaisons dangereuses” is a purely Western story, and an Asian playboy would rather behave like Genji than Don Juan. These are cultural subtleties in how men and women interact that I can’t really describe (I should probably think about it a little), but there were several points in the film where I wanted to exclaim “They would never do this in an Asian drama!” Instead, they turned this raunchy sex drama into a tragic love story, and the third time they made Jeon Doyeon’s character faint I laughed out loud. She would faint a fourth time again. This story, well, it just doesn’t work as a tragic love story, and I fail to take it seriously.

Just like in “Dasepo Naughty Girls”, the visuals of this film are stunningly beautiful at times. But make no mistake, this is a rather tedious, slow-paced adaptation which feels like it never ends. Thanks to a great story and a good director, it’s probably more watchable than your average Korean period drama, but I am not sure I would recommend it.

Now for the hail for bullets:

• The slight changes in the settings are quite insightful. Here, I find Madame de Tourvel’s character most interesting. In the original novel, she is someone’s wife, in “Cruel Intentions”, she is some girl who wants to remain virgin before getting married, and in “Untold Scandal” she is a widow whose marriage never even got consummated. Basically she reflects how chastity is perceived in these different societies – and the way it practically never exists. In other words, in aristocratic France everybody cheats, in today’s New York everybody has sex before marriage and in 18th century Korea everybody remarries after your previous spouse has died.

• I absolutely love Jeon Doyeon’s hanbok in a light pink/brown combination. While I find most hanboks terribly cheesy-looking, they are surprisingly nice in this film. Especially when the chosen colors reflect So-ok’s youthfulness, Lady Jung’s chastity, Madam Jo’s bitchiness, and the loudness of the whores.

• There even is a Chinese version! It stars our all-beloved Zhang Ziyi, so I want to see it.

• I am amused to see how the sex paintings look strangely Chinese, much like the historical Chinese porn exhibition they used to have in the Dahlem Museum in Berlin. They actually are quite erotic.

Dasepo Naughty Girls

Since this film is all about style (okay, not only but its style is remarkable), I would like to point out that I started a Pinterest board for furniture I like.¹ Some of them are either impossible to get (like those floor chairs) or way too expensive in the first place (like famous designer stuff). It’s more like an inspiration board for what our future interior should look like. Right now we are planning a modern-style living room and a vintage-style bedroom. (And no, we won’t really have a nursery.) So feel free to recommend things to us!

Speaking of style, having grown in dress size these days, I have begun to enjoy less form-fitting clothing styles. To be honest, there aren’t very many options for pear-shaped women out there (as opposed to the hourglass-shaped Christina Hendricks type), but today I stumbled yet again upon Cotton Friend² and its simple, flowing Japanese clothes. I think they are a good compromise – easy to sew, comfortable and stylish in its own way. Maybe another trip to Muji is in order. Incidentally, I am wearing a dress from Muji right now!

“Dasepo Naughty Girls” is almost the exact opposite of that mid-30s-Japanese-housewife-minimalist style. The film is very youthful and unexpectedly artistic. I think that all the silly visuals in the movie are very well thought-out. The silly cosplay-ish style is absolutely deliberate. Instead of making the students look cheap as most cosplay costumes do, the clothing design is amusing and artistic, highlighting its characteristic of a high school parody. To be more precise, a cosplay costume has a tendency to be overly sexual, whereas all costumes in “Dasepo Naughty Girls” are surprisingly tame. Just google the film and you’ll see that the screenshots almost all feature long dresses and practically an inexistent dekolleté. Curiously, the promotional photos often feature more skimpy outfits and (by Jove!) even some tops revealing both the chest and the belly button.
Who knows, maybe I just love the uniforms in the film because I am a sucker for orange. However, there aren’t many orange uniforms in real life, making this choice of color both cute and refreshing in my eyes.

Most importantly – I have hinted at it already – the film is a lovely satire of the whole high school genre. If you have ever seen Asian high school romances before, no matter whether in anime or live drama form, and especially if you’ve grown tired of it, you will enjoy how “Dasepo Naughty Girls” plays on all these clichés. Just recently I have complained about how “Brüno” had no red thread and felt like a collage of pointless tidbits of story while “The Dictator” was coherent, but in “Dasepo Naughty Girls” I didn’t mind the anecdotal nature of the film at all. So I should probably take back what I said. While I enjoy a consistent story with an overall goal and some sort of showdown at the end, for a comedy it is perfectly alright if there is nothing tying those little episodes together. As long as each episode is enjoyable by itself, they don’t have to lead up anywhere (unless you count the graduation at the end, which can only be described as an “everybody gets together at the end to have a big party” scene).

One of the advantages of aforementioned little episodes is my impression that everything in this film is very optimistic and playful. While it portrays a rather depraved society in which everybody is sex-crazed and perverse, it’s actually taking it all with a grain of salt. All characters are ultimately lovable, especially that cross-dressing CEO. He’s the perfect example of a perverse-looking guy who actually just wants some harmless fun in life. In the end, he was a friend to the protagonist and being the most bland and boring character in the entire film, I think she could use a friend like that.

“Dasepo Naughty Girls” is the kind of film that I would want to revisit over and over again. In fact, I did that for this blog posting. Oh and it has musical elements too!

Now for the infamous hail of bullets:

• Even though I perfectly enjoyed the little episodes, the most memorable scene will still be the protagonist girl’s high-school-outfit shirt. I love how the bow of the school uniform is printed on the shirt.

• In my book, the film even got its hairstyles right. Everybody is totally overstyled (except for the protagonist of course), but a part of me secretly wants to wear my hair like that.

• Speaking of furniture, the rich Swiss transfer student (yes, every high school drama or its parody needs a transfer student) lives in an awesome place. I want to live in an apartment that looks like a Mac computer.

• I also have a little crush on that Swiss boy, hahaha.

This time we also have some footnotes:

1. I don’t actually like Pinterest, but for these purposes it’s brilliant.
2. If you know any other resources for this type of clothing, be all means let me know.

The Dictator

To most people, I suppose “The Dictator” is famous as the newest movie of the Ali G guy, after his big successes “Borat” and “Brüno”. For me, it’s the other way around. I have seen Sacha Baron Cohen as Ali G at the MTV Europe Music Awards many many years ago (Wikipedia says it’s 2001), but to me, seeing this film is like seeing him for the first time. I attempted to watch “Brüno” afterwards and thought it was unwatchable. In fact, I thought the latter was so horrendous that it gave me headaches.

“The Dictator” is wonderful in comparison! The jokes are offensive, but much less… vapid? “Brüno” is full of “Look it’s the ultrasound of [name of D celebrity]’s baby. Should we abort it?”-kind of jokes whereas “The Dictator” is actually able to make comments about society and politics which are totally spot on. This is a good example. The jokes may not necessarily be super innovative in what they are criticizing, but it’s been done in an enjoyable way. I am most amused by how the Chinese guy in the story is the biggest capitalist of all of them – that is also very to the point if you think about it. To me, “The Dictator” is everything a ‘shocking’ comedy should be, whereas “Brüno” is everything it is not. Sure, there was one totally inappropriate scene (the cellphone inside that woman’s body) but most of it was offensive in a good way.
The jokes are not the only thing. Whereas “Brüno” feels like a string of small stories and supposedly funny scenes put together, “The Dictator” actually has a story which, luckily, unfolds very fast. I think the storytelling is much better here.

I think reviewing the film too much would actually spoil it. It’s not really a film about humanity, rather about society; it has no actual people in it, but satirical characters. As a result, I think this is kind of film you just have to see and enjoy yourself. Instead, I present my first hail of bullets:

• My favorite scene? The one where Aladeen takes over Zoey’s shop and uses his dictator skills to turn it into a blooming business. Maybe bosses really have to be dictators.

• Speaking of Aladeen, “HIV-Aladeen” has become a running joke. I plan to replace words that do not come to mind immediately with “Aladeen” in the future.

• I love how Sacha Baron Cohen is married to Isla Fisher, who plays Ron Howard’s daughter in the new Arrested Development season. (I promise, I will be able reference AD in every posting somehow. That is how much I am into the series, even if the new season is mildly disappointing.)

• Netflix does not seem to have the unrated version. I am not surprised and perhaps I want to see that one too. I have a feeling that the best jokes are in the version we saw anyways.

Mar adentro

Nowadays, TV shows don’t only keep me up from watching movies, they also keep me from blogging. I am itching to blog about TV shows as well, but I just don’t have the heart to do that. There is something enjoyable about not blogging about things, but especially with Game of Thrones (and now also Arrested Development), it would be desirable to just jot down some thoughts sometimes. I think that Arrested Development is very sophisticated and its writing just as interesting as before, if not even more so. But it’s necessary to spend some time thinking about all the details, and blogging would have helped. I am so going to rewatch the entire show one day.

I have another reason not to blog TV shows. Recently, I have been reading Poniewozik’s column religiously (though I still ignore the TV shows he watches but I don’t watch), catching up with his Game of Thrones, Mad Men and Breaking Bad postings. I even forgive him for stopping to blog Mad Men because of Game of Thrones. Poniewozik is my idol. I wish I could write like him. When there is someone like Dostoevsky it makes me not want to write a novel because I couldn’t stand the shame of comparing myself to it. The same goes for Poniewozik and TV shows. Nevertheless, there is one thing I would like to do: Adopt his “hail of bullets”. I realize that a lot of things I write about are just random tidbits which are not relevant enough to be in the actual review, and I have a feeling that this re-organization of my postings will help the review. I will probably only do this for shows I thought were particularly remarkable, but unfortunately “Mar adentro” is not one of them.

Pip said awhile ago that he wants to see all the Foreign Movie Oscars, especially since “Departures” and “The Lives of Others” were so great. Well, now we saw another one and in comparison to those two it was definitely disappointing. In fact, I found the movie almost so disappointing that I don’t want to blog about it. Strangely enough, the disappointment only came in about 20-30 minutes into the film. Before seeing the film, I only knew that Shii saw the film many, many years ago and I wanted to see it because of Javier Bardem. So the topic of the film was a surprise, and at first it was a pleasant surprise. I thought the premise of the film was very intriguing, and the visuals were poetic. Little did I know that the intriguing story does not make a great plot (in fact, the film pretty much lacks plot) and the poetic visuals turned into terrible kitsch. I disliked the flying scenes, and not even my favorite aria of all times, Nessun dorma, was able to make me enjoy or even feel touched by them. The meaningfulness of the movie was mostly lost when I realized that it’s another one of those “disabled men with two women in love with him based on real life” stories. I am aware that “Le scaphandre et le papillon” came out later, but having seen it first made me realize how much I dislike this setting. Just like how the “white men save far away colonies with non-white (or blue) people” is racist, we are dealing with a not-all-that-subtle version of misogyny here. Needless to say that the main character has a blossoming love relationship with the pretty female, whereas the “lesser” woman both in appearance and career success is in love with him – one-sided of course.

Luckily, Javier Bardem saves it all. I loved his acting here and was thoroughly and appropriately creeped out by his smile. Thinking about it, we don’t see him smile very much in his other films, in which he is either depressed (Biutiful, Los lunes al sol) or evil (No country for old men, Skyfall). Maybe Vicky Cristina Barcelona is an exception, but I just don’t remember it too well. This is a great addition to his long list of unusual roles; to see how this smile is not a “real” smile but actually masking deep sadness is wonderfully devastating. I think that alone made the film worthwhile to see.

It’s been a long time since I have seen a Spanish film, and I realized that I actually love the sound of Spanish-Spanish (which, incidentally, reminds me of Pete’s “Spanish from Spain” from this week’s Mad Men episode). It reminds me of my childhood. Unfortunately no beautiful memories of lost youthfulness can make a boring film interesting, and it is unfortunate that I felt about it this way despite its awesome premise. I cannot recommend the film unless you are a Javier Bardem fangirl like me.

PS. I have begun to use Evernote more extensively, mostly to “transfer” links of articles I am interested in to my phone, so I can read them there later. Now I have also added a to-do list. It’s just very convenient this way.

PPS. In other completely unrelated news, I am looking forward to After School’s new song, but I fear that it will absolutely terrible.

Bernie

I am back! It is lucky that the first film I am seeing since Oskar’s birth is such a fun one. Had it been a lesser film, or at least a less enjoyable film, it may take another two months until I see another film. Truth to be told, I am so much more into TV shows right now. (Mad Men, Breaking Bad and Game of Thrones – who is not watching them?) TV shows are less burdensome, almost always more enjoyable and at least as interesting for its own reasons. If you are reading this blog, I probably know your opinion on this matter and you most likely agree already. Nevertheless, my passion for films is back and I am already wondering what I should see next.

It is just like Shii said, Bernie is surprisingly enjoyable. Sure, I watched the movie because of Shirley MacLaine and because I want to see everything Linklater did, but it’s actually worthwhile by itself. Especially the first half had so many beautiful, funny lines, and it is surprising because I had no idea Linklater even had an inkling of humor in him. The second half was less funny, perhaps because Shirley MacLaine’s character disappeared from the story, but just like “Préparez vos mouchoirs” one could just watch the beginning and forgive the rest.

Alright, doing that would not really do the film justice, where justice is the key word. Behind the cloak of a (successful!) black comedy actually lies a real story. Hell, the story is so absurd (as black comedies almost always are) that I was surprised this is actually a true story. Nevertheless, the concept of a murderer who is otherwise a great person yet has – by law – deserved every bit of his sentence is at least interesting. It questions everything we expect of law, what law is and should be. Is law there to punish? In that case Tiede deserved his sentence. (By the way, I hated how in the film, even in the courtroom people called him “Bernie”. The film is awfully one-sided and that aspect just took the cake.) Is it there to serve as determent for others? I don’t think anyone could possibly be motivated to commit Bernie’s crime. Is doing good deeds for the community a reason to lower Tiede’s sentence? If yes, then I should get imprisoned for life because I probably never did anything good for any community. Is prison for life there to keep criminals up from repeating their crimes? By that logic Tiede didn’t need prison whatsoever, it’s not like he’ll ever do that again. Even without this film, just by looking at the facts, one could come to the conclusion that Tiede did not deserve what he got, and that his service to the city outweighs his crime, at least a little bit. After all, if you compare him to some other murderous rapists out there, you can’t help but feel that there is something unfair there. Tiede is definitely suspicious (which innocent young man hides the dead body for months and then proceeds to spend her money?) but does that make him a cold-blooded killer?
Back in high school, my favorite topic in philosophy class was law. I actually didn’t understand the concepts of those texts until about 1-2 years later when I revisited them for fun, or rather I should say it was only then that I understood a little more. If law is there for society to function and to protect humans from themselves, then society probably has an interest in reintroducing Tiede into the city he loved so much. Now I am an individual being and my individual feelings tell me that I don’t necessarily have an interest in the good of society (especially not at my own expense), but in this case, my feelings for Tiede’s case and society agree: I want to see this man thrive in the “normal world”.
Back in university, I have come to appreciate the beauty of definitions in law. A lot of it is ambiguous but we revel when something is not, and from a legal standpoint, Tiede’s case seems very clear to me. So that other part of me thinks that a murder is a murder, and nothing – money, popularity, personality – should be a criterion as to how long you should be punished for it.

So, after having ranted for so long, I should remind myself that “Bernie” is ultimately a comedy. That it is based on a real story and so openly advocates sympathy for Tiede (who is still in prison) leaves a slightly bitter aftertaste, but don’t let that spoil the fun. And boy the film is a lot of fun. I tend to dislike small-town mentality (hello Dogville), but when it is shown in such a lovely fashion (hello Groundhog Day) I can’t help but love the film.

I bought the book today, and have begun trying to solve the puzzles. Here are the ones I have been able to do:

1. Casablanca
9. Kill Bill Vol.1
19. The Graduate
28. Groundhog Day
30. Citizen Kane (too easy: Rosebud huh?)
33. Amélie
34. 12 Angry Men
35. The Big Sleep
38. Inglorious Basterds
42. Psycho (lol the shower – I have never even seen the movie)
44. Dr. Strangelove
59. Breathless (New York Herald Tribune!)
71. Fargo (wow I barely remember the movie… except for Paul Bunyan)
75. The Birds
77. Some like it hot
81. Annie Hall (the lobsters gave it away)
85. Rear Window (I am devastated that it took me a long time to get this one)
86. Network (I didn’t even like the movie, but the respective puzzle is awesome)
95. The 39 Steps
96. The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
100. The Wizard of Oz

Actually I saw 46 of the movies in the book… I will go through another round someday.

Scenes from a Marriage (TV version)

The next days (or weeks) are rather clear. I rewatched “Ukigusa” yesterday (everything I said about how it’s superior to the silent version does hold true!) and will spending my time on the DVDs we recently purchased. We also saw Teshigahara’s short films which came in the box – they were so lovely. Having learned that he ended up taking over his father’s ikebana school, it really makes me want to get into it too. Having already written about “Ukigusa monogatari”, the TV version of “Scenes from a Marriage” is the only film amongst the purchases I have not yet seen.

To be honest, it was three episodes in that I finally realized I have not seen the TV version before. This is especially ironic because each episode has these amusing credits with a landscape shot of the Faroe Islands, and I thought I just forgot about them. The truth was that I have obviously never seen them before. That it took me so long to realize I was watching a different (and, in fact, longer) version of the same film essentially means that the condensed version indeed contained practically everything the movie needed. The character of Eva is rather unnecessary, the confrontation with the mother is as well; being largely restricted to the interaction between Johan and Marianne, the theatrical version seemed to contain everything I found memorable about the film.

Nevertheless, there is something nice about seeing the TV version. If you think of every part of the film as an episode and allow yourself a little time between them (i.e. watch one or two parts a day), it feels more like you are watching a slice of life, with plain everyday problems slowly unfolding, almost alongside your real life. Luckily the pacing is not any slower, but we get much more of these little everyday details. The structure of the film also seems much clearer as each episode does make rather big jumps in time.

The biggest difference between watching the movie the first and the second time is the emotional impact the film made on me, which goes hand in hand with my changed impression of the relationship dynamic. Concerning the first aspect, emotional impact, it’s not actually the impact was any less strong than last time. It is just different. Watching the film the first time left me utterly devastated and made me begin to doubt whether any relationship can possibly be happy. The way marriages, or relationships in general, are portrayed in this film suggests that they must be inherently unhappy, that it is impossible to be together in the traditional sense by construction. Maybe this is actually true, but personally I don’t believe it (anymore). Having been taken off the burden of the main struggle in the film allowed me to see this couple from a different perspective and perceive them as characters instead of a Schnitzler-like template for relationships in general. I probably am also seeing more details now. Unlike the first time, I think that the end of the film is strangely comforting, that it is beautiful how this couple maintained their strong feelings for each other over all those years. When Johan claimed that they loved each other in their own way, I used to think “Oh really? How can you say that after getting a divorce and marrying someone else?” Perhaps it is due to seeing the longer version that I now believe whatever they share must be some sort of love, and that they share an unbreakable bond despite having boring sex and being a bad match by any logical criterion.

Furthermore, I am also less partial to Marianne now. Back then, it was easy to blame Johan for everything – he was the one who made no attempts at improving their relationship, he was the one who left for someone else and then came back begging in the most pathetic way possible. But there always are two in a relationship, and I find “Scenes of a Marriage” more balanced nowadays. Of course Liv Ullmann is one heck of a woman and is largely the victim in the story, but she too ignored her husband’s unhappiness quite actively, and thank God she ended up coming out on top, with a better life than this husband has ever been able to give ot her. The only weakness of the film remains the same – Johan’s extreme misogyny and Marianne’s meekness are just so cliché, but maybe a healthy dose of cliché is necessary to make characters human.

Pip says the film feels extremely realistic, yet the heightened drama would never be like that in real life. While I used to think that the film was painfully true, I now mostly subscribe to Pip’s statement. Life is indeed a little more boring than that, though I still think that most of what the film says is indeed true – it’s just that in real life nobody has the balls say it.

Cesare deve morire

I don’t know what to say about this. It’s like Teshigahara, where I am pretty sure nobody will really like it, but I do. “Cesare deve morire” is the kind of film that somehow manages to capture my wavelength. Even though it’s practically a documentary. at least two scenes, the depiction of Brutus’ stabbing of Caesar and Brutus’ own death, evoked an emotional response.

Apart from that, of course the film is describing humanity in a subtle way. On the most simplistic level, the film makes us see these criminals as worthy humans capable of creativity and reflection. That may aptly describe the depth of the film (luckily, it’s really not that pretentious of a film) but the enjoyment you gather through it is harder to describe. Like I have said, in essence it is a documentary. But there is something about the way this is filmed that makes it so very interesting. In essence, the film goes more or less chronologically throughout the play. It starts with the casting, then shows how the actors learn their lines throughout the first 2 acts of the play, then how they rehearse the third act within the prison grounds; finally, acts 4 and 5 are shown as the actual performance in the theater. We only get excerpts of the film, but I had a lot of fun seeing them. Maybe it’s because I just read the play and I like the idea of seeing it spoken out. I especially liked Brutus’ and Mark Anthony’s speeches from act 3, which they performed in the courtyard of the prison with the “crowd” looking out from their prison windows and responding to them.

With that said, it was a really good idea to read the play first. I was surprised how many lines I recognized almost to the point of being able to quote them. Maybe Shakespeare is just awesome like that, the stuff he writes is just so memorable, and that is despite the fact that I had trouble understanding what was going on in act 1. Being able to put their utterances into context helped me appreciate the scenes even more. I am tempted to interpret the film as just another way of adapting the play itself. Certainly the content of the play has nothing to do with the situation of the prisoners per se, but the film easily convinces you that the connection is a productive one.

So “Cesare deve morire” may be one of those films people will have forgotten about in 2 years. That’s fine, but I thought it was very memorable. I have never seen anything like that, so to me, it stands in the same line as “My Winnipeg” as a documentary done right.

Ukigusa Monogatari (A story of floating weeds)

In retrospect, I am still surprised at how much “Tokyo Monogatari” ruined my enjoyment of Ozu films. At that time, I had only seen the 1959 version “Ukigusa” and actually liked it. In retrospect, I enjoyed “Ohayo” more, but I have always kept “Ukigusa” in high esteem. It has human melodrama, wonderful actors, a luscious style and most importantly it was an engaging, humorous story. Unfortunately I had heard that your typical Ozu film is more like “Tokyo Monogatari” rather than “Ukigusa”, and got the wrong assumption that I hated Ozu’s style. I could not have been more wrong.

Incidentally, however, “Ukigusa” really is very different from his other films. While most Ozu films deal with “normal” people whose lives are quite integrated with society, the very fact that the main character is a kabuki actor makes the film stand out. Just like the children in “Ohayo” are outsiders, the struggles of the traveling actor is unusual in the world of Ozu. Personally I think it leads to more interesting stories than the more simplistic “Sanma no Aji”, for example. I believe it is the inherent loveliness of the story that made Ozu want to remake the film, since the storyline is probably the only thing that is kept constant with both films.

Everything else seems to have improved in “Ukigusa”. Sound allows funnier dialogue and color allows prettier visuals. Ironically most Ozu films I have seen were color films, and I think he uses it marvelously. Most of all, I felt like the sparse dialogue in the 1934 did not allow the characters to bloom as much. Kihachi looks like a wimp and a woman-beater, his former lover looks like a meek woman who has nothing to say for herself and the mistress simply seems to be mean. When I saw the 1959 version, I took a strong liking to her, making the ending scene much more powerful. Oh yeah there also is the son. Well, if the film was supposed to show that he matured throughout the film, but he managed to throw a pointless tantrum in the end after all.

Having said nothing but bad things about this film, I actually do see some merit in the film. I have always remembered “Ukigusa” to be a rather pleasant, light-hearted film (certainly thanks to the other kabuki actors’ amusing antics), whereas “Ukigusa monogatari” shows the heartbreaking melodrama more strongly. As much as they are portrayed in a somewhat bad light, they are still human and likable (much unlike “Tokyo monogatari” where I pretty much disliked everybody), such that it is easy to feel empathy with them. I believe that is the reason the film (and its story) were a success, and deservedly so.

Overall though, I simply prefer the upgraded version “Ukigusa”. Maybe late Ozu is just greater than early Ozu?

Kes

When I was a little child, my parents bought these Chinese readers which contained short stories and were supposed to help with my reading comprehension. They were a few and I made several attempt at reading them, little by little, every day. The only story I actually finished was one about a little child who was bullied and whose only pleasure in life was his pet bird. It ended with the other bullying kids killing his pet bird for no apparent reason. I was furious. I spent so many days painfully going through the language challenges of the story, only to discover that the story was immensely cruel and saddening, leaving me extremely upset. I refused to read any more stories, but that was interpreted as reluctance to study Chinese. It wasn’t really Chinese that I hated, it was the content of those (arguably terrible) stories I was supposed to read – every single one of them was either sad or just generally negative about the world. It is one of the darkest memories of my childhood, and I still resent that I had to read that story, and that I was made to feel guilty about refusing to read more.

“Kes” reminded me a lot of it, and I am perfectly aware that my strong emotions for the bird may blurry whatever merit the film has. I do know one thing though – I would never want to show this movie to a child. The social and cultural implications would be completely lost, and the story itself is utterly heartbreaking, especially when you are a child. What does a child get from the movie then? Some people believe that a highly acclaimed movie with a child protagonist must be for children, but actually it’s just adult wanking with complete disregard to what children enjoy. You may disagree with my opinion on education there, but I believe complete hopelessness and despair is not for children.

That is not all I personally disliked about the film. The saddening aspect of the story really only lasts 3 minutes after all. I also disliked both the main character and the world the whole thing was set in. Of course I understand the intellectual appeal to create a young main character who is not perfect. A boy who is mischievous is generally very interesting, especially when considering that movies usually love to romanticize the innocence of children. But did the boy really have to be so damn annoying? Why does he have to steal when he doesn’t really seem to need it? Why does he have to make snarky comments, only to be all like “yes, sir – no, sir” afterwards whenever confronting an adult? It is never shown nor explained why he refuses to show any ambition “the normal way” and talk reasonably with the interviewer, and from the other things he does it doesn’t seem like he understands any of it.
This brings me to my second point. Maybe I am overreacting, and I just don’t understand those working class people. It’s always possible to get out and if you can take up falconry, you can also learn how to become an electrician. The whole film was about how bleak their world is, but “Kes” equally shows us how it practically seems to their own fault. I just couldn’t care less for their problems. Maybe that sort of working class realism is just not for me. It is telling that even in the film, the only person who gets behind the beauty of falconry is some sort of academic – the English teacher.

Between my incredible love for the bird and almost total disinterest for any of the characters in the film, I think “Kes” just went wrong on so many levels. If it had been a beautiful film I may have changed my opinion, but to me it looked just as dirty as its storyline.