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Berlinale 2014, Day 9 (Yukinojo Henge)

The Queen was out of order after the first movie on Saturday so I have the honour of presenting to you Saturday’s evening movies!

drrt

Yukinojo Henge (An Actor’s Revenge, ?????)
Japan 1935-36/1952, Teinosuke Kinugasa, 97?

Yukinojo’s parents were driven to suicide by the local magistrates when he was a child. It’s 1863 when he arrives with his troupe in Edo (now Tokyo) as a successful onnagata (woman actor in Kabuki theatre, they did the Shakespeare thing and did not allow women) finding his mortal enemies in the audience and finally exacting his carefully planned vengeance. After an opulent sword fight with one of his enemy’s henchmen and after burning down the house of another, finally all of them die in the Kabuki theatre in a quite literal dramatic catharsis.

An explanation about the production years is warranted: Originally produced as a 5-hour-long three-parter, the movie was premiered between June ’35 and January ’36. As it was Kinugasa’s most popular historical movie (jidaigeki) Shochiku smelled the money, slaughtered it down to 97 minutes and re released it in 1952. Unfortunately this is the only version in existence, so this is what was shown in Berlin.

I sorely lament the cut version. The movie is suspenseful, Kazuo Hasegawa as Yukinojo is a marvelous actor when he switches effeminate onnagata and vengeful onnagata, the lighting and cinematography overall is splendid. What remains of the plot is highly satisfying but feels highly rushed at all times. So much has been omitted that several times a voice from the off narrates what has been left out while they show a few shots from those cut scenes. However even cut down to 97 minutes it is a wonderful movie. While you lament how much better the original must have been, you still get caught up in the story and the portrayal of Yukinojo is highly captivating.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 9 (Chiisai Ouchi)

I knew that blogging the Berlinale would become a chore one day. I was not able to blog a single film while the festival was still running, and I suspected it would take me the entire rest of the month of February at least to blog it. It also means that it’s been over two weeks since I saw the films I am blogging, and my memories and perceptions change. Oh well, it is an eternal blogging dilemma.

Today marks my earliest movie, 9am at the Friedrichstadtpalast. I was only able to secure a moderately good seat because I fell asleep in the subway and exited at Yorckstraße. Big mistake, there was a bus instead of the S-Bahn and I ended up running into the movie theater at 9.02am. Luckily they almost always start about 5 minutes after the scheduled time. I was perfectly fine and saw the entire film. After that stress, I ended up not seeing anything at all anymore, which is unfortunate because Pixelmatsch seems to have had fun.

drrt

Chiisai Ouchi (The Little House)
Japan 2014, Yoji Yamada, 136’

At the beginning of the 1930’s, Taki is a young woman from the northern parts of Japan who found employment as a maid. The Hirai family she works for consists of a nice couple with a little boy, who Taki becomes close to. They live in a cute little Western-style house with a bright red roof in the suburbs of Tokyo. While the husband is mostly interested in his business affairs and war politics, both the wife and young Taki fall in love with a co-worker of her husband’s, the young artist Itakura. Even as Mrs. Hirai begins to have an affair with the young man, Taki continues to stay loyal and care for the family. However, as the war drags, Itakura faces the risk of being drafted.
Death count: 3.

To be honest, when I heard that someone in Chiisai Ouchi got the award for best female actress, I honestly thought it would be Takako Matsu. I thought she was quite good in “Confessions” (though the film did not stand out for me, it was just solid all around), and Haru Kuroki is a complete youngster. She was lovely and very cute, but I am not sure how much acting is involved with that role. From what I can see, she essentially played herself. Even so, I really like her! Her somewhat plain face is so awesome, especially when compared to Takako Matsu’s astonishing beauty.

“Chiisai Ouchi” was a rather emotional film for me. With its psychological subtlety, the film hit my feelings perfectly except for the end. Just like other reviews suggested, I too thought the end was a little overly spelled out. I think it would have been nice to let it end with the shot where Taki says “I have lived for too long” and cries, and then cut to Takeshi finding the letter and saying something along the lines of “That little sin of yours, Aunt Taki, has been long forgiven.” That’s it. For me, that would have nailed the effect. Apart from that, Taki’s feelings were beautifully portrayed and of a bittersweet subtlety. But the not-really-love-triangle is not even the main draw of the film, it is those many historical details surrounding the film. Even though the film never really goes outside the little house which gave the film its title, the film shows with many details how much the war affects people’s lives even at the little house. We see children say “banzai” to each other in front of the house, characters running out of supplies and getting food from black markets, and finally the rumor that it is immoral to indulge in such things as love when there is a war effort going on. You can easily sense how the film focuses its sympathies with female characters who want absolutely nothing to do with the war, and in the end, the war effectively destroyed their lives even though they haven’t seen a single battlefield.

Similar with “Akibiyori”, I suppose I was also totally mesmerized with the style of the film. Even Taki always looks super clean and proper, and the little bit you see of her kimono underneath the housekeeper apron looks absolutely stylish. The film is a feast for the eyes, and it made me wish I could live in that little house and wear their clothes. I also was quite fond of the three time layers of story-telling – there is the time line where Taki is dead, the time line where old Taki is writing her memoir and discussing it with Takeshi and finally the time line of the happenings of the memoir. All three of them are actually necessary for the crucial ending, but even if you put that aside I liked it as a story-telling device.

One of my favorite scenes in the film is actually the one with Taki and her mother at the very beginning – it’s one in the film I remember which has humor in it. They speak a Northern dialect and talk about her dialect, and all the while the German subtitles are in Bavarian and the English subtitles say “y’all” and such. Many people laughed out loud. In situations like these, I am glad that movie theaters exist.

In the direct comparison with “Bai Ri Yan Huo”, I actually think that “Chiisai Ouchi” is the better film. It’s clever and has generally grander ambitions which it completely fulfills. If only it wasn’t for those extra 20 minutes with that dragged out ending, the film would have made an even bigger impact on me.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 8 (Jujiro)

When Shii came to the Berlinale, he was especially interested in the Teinosuke Kinugasa films. Even though I am not particularly fond of samurai films, I thought I wanted to give it a try, and what better occasion is there than a day in which I can catch three films in a row in the same theater? The convenience was overwhelming.

drrt

Jujiro (Crossways)
Japan 1928, Teinosuke Kinugasa, 87’

Young Rikiya is into the beautiful prostitute O-Ume and gives her a kimono to woe her. But her followers beat him up and blind him. After Rikiya tries to stab someone, he thinks he murdered and runs back home to his sister. As she tries to help him, her landlord uses the situation to blackmail her into sleeping with him. Cornered, the sister kills the landlord, and both siblings must flee again.
Death count: 2, I assume.

Style-wise, I think that “Jujiro” is an expressionist masterpiece, and it really made me want to watch Kinugasa films again. There is something inherently beautiful in the depiction of despair in this film, and if the series is called “Aesthetics of Shadows”, then “Jujiro” is probably its best example. Kinugasa shows the poor, ragged and evil with mesmerizing beauty. Other than that, I typically have a hard time to love films which are really just despair and, in this case, essentially lacking anything human apart from the sister’s love (the brother himself did not seem to have done anything for his sister from what I can see, and generally seems to fail to understand what love is). To me, the story was nothing but a dragged out piece of pain, and my failure to feel for the characters here is similar to what I felt when I watched “Ninjo kamifusen” because I just couldn’t get behind what they did. I probably should have watched “Yukinojo Henge” instead – at least I can get behind that story for sure.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 8 (The Typhoon)

Actually, “The Cheat” and “The Typhoon” were a double package, both featuring Sessue Hayakawa as main character. I thought it was remarkable that a sizable amount of people left after “The Cheat”, and after shortly speaking to some people passing us by, I realized that they did so completely on purpose. Those people probably have more important films to see at this important 7pm time slot, and perhaps they are right. As for me, Stephen Horne’s accompaniment was even more fun in “The Typhoon”.

drrt

The Typhoon
USA 1914, Reginald Barker, 63’

The Japanese spy Tokorama lives in Paris and uses his function as a diplomat to gather secret data on France. At the same time, he is dating a French actress who is a little too interested in his private life. When things go awry with her ex-boyfriend, she is being killed in Tokorama’s house. The Japanese delegation chooses a young student to confess to the murder so Tokorama can continue his work. But Tokorama cannot get over the deed he’s done.
Death count: 2.

There is a reason why so many left before “The Typhoon”. Ultimately the film is just as racist as “The Cheat”, and it’s hard to tell what is worse – are the Japanese a group of idiots with an overly heightened sense of sacrifice and patriotism, or are they dangerous psychopaths and rapists? There is one thing they both agree on: Japanese men are clearly into white women. Griffith-like racism aside, the more important reason not to watch the film is probably its terrible quality. Since Cecil B. DeMille absolutely deserves his spot in the list of great directors, it’s absolutely painful to see Reginald Barker’s work in direct comparison. The use of light and shadows is clumsy, the composition of shots is absolutely horrendous (I remember several examples of the main character being almost out of the frame for no good reason) and the storytelling is amateurish. There is nothing redeeming about this film really, absolutely nothing.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 8 (The Cheat)

I was looking forward to the convenience of this day. After seeing one film starting 2pm, we would spend a whopping three more movies in the same movie theater. Yay! A nice person even went through the ranks to see our tickets so that we didn’t even have to get off our seats while we waited about half an hour for “Jujiro” to start, the last film of the day. (Much unlike the Friedrichstadtpalast who throws everybody out despite having a huge staff. Next to the Haus der Berliner Festspiele, I vow to avoid the Friedrichstadtpalast in the future as much as I can.) Finally, we’d be done for the day at around 9pm. It was the perfect schedule, but sadly not the perfect day.

drrt

The Cheat
USA 1915, Cecil B. DeMille, 59’

Edith Hardy, a bored, socialite housewife spends too much time with Tori, a rich Japanese dude with nothing to do, while spending all of her husband’s hard-earned money. At some point, she speculates with 10,000 dollars she collected from her group of friends for charity and loses the money. Tori offers to give the money to her, but only if she gives herself to him. Mrs. Hardy is horrified.
Death count: 1.

I knew about Cecil B. DeMille Award at the Golden Globes. It’s a fun thing, especially this year where it stirred a new controversy about Woody Allen’s family troubles. Apart from that, I have never felt very compelled to watch one of his films, fully knowing that he’s one of the major players who pioneered film-making. After seeing “The Cheat”, it is not only fascinating that he was one of the first, but that – just like George Méliès – he was so incredibly good at it. From the standpoint of an artist, “The Cheat” is absolutely beautiful. The scenes at Tori’s house are wonderfully moody and creepy, the film’s story is suspenseful and every single shot in the film seems to have the perfect length and looks perfectly right. It’s a very classic film, but it seems like for these beginnings, DeMille has figured it all out, effectively setting a standard of how films are shot for the time. Yes, there is a “good” way and a “bad” way to make films in the classical sense, and you can make errors in film-making just like you can in music composition (Mozart famously loved to point out his father’s mistakes at early age). Of course you can throw away all these rules at some point, but to do that the rules must exist. As for DeMille, I’d say his work is setting the rules and he’s a master at it.

Other than that, the storyline doesn’t really make sense. At first, Edith and Tori are shown as having this very friendly relationship where he is this extremely trusted family friend who essentially acts like a gay man around all these women. Then all of a sudden he requests sex for money and threatens her even though theoretically all he needed to do at that point was to give her the money and then charm her into sleeping with him. She would have done that in a heartbeat, no doubt about that. But no, they had to portray him as this brutal rapist who uses violence when he could have gotten what he wanted by asking nicely. Well, that’s the Western world in the 1910’s for you. I won’t really complain but to today’s eyes, it’s really disturbing to see. In the end I was torn between “Wow, this film is really well-made” and “The racism in this story is creeps me out”.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 8 (Wa ga ya wa tanoshii)

It is ironic that this eighth day of the Berlinale coincides so well with my blogging fatigue. After this day, I totally did not feel like any more Berlinale days anymore. I had tickets for five more films (one on Saturday, four on Sunday), and I ended up watching those and not a single one more. Incidentally, I was very happy with my choices both for Saturday and Sunday, but overall I also thought enough was enough.

In that respect, Day 8 was probably the worst day of the Berlinale. While every other day had at least one title I was unabashedly fascinated with or at least loved very much, this day had one fine film and a few more films which I enjoyed rather little.

drrt

Wa ga ya wa tanoshii (Home Sweet Home)
Japan 1951, Noboru Nakamura, 91’

The Uemura family is held by a loving bond, with an earnest, hard-working father and a mother who is willing sacrifice her all to help her children achieve their dreams. The older daughter, Tomoko, studies painting and tries to have her works accepted at a gallery; the younger daughter, Nobuko, sings in a choir and is about to go on a school trip; finally there also are two younger children who are happily tumbling around. As the family is struggling with money even though the mother is working on the side, lucky and unlucky things happen to the family as time goes on. But the bond remains strong.
Death count: 0.

In reference to the introduction above, this film is the “fine” one. I really liked “Doshaburi” which resonated with me deeply, but I had doubts about the descriptions of the director’s other two films which are shown at the Berlinale. We thought that “Wa ga ya wa tanoshii” sounded like the better one of the two, promising to be at least a sweet story with the wonderful Chishu Ryu. Well, I’d say the film starts really well, with a loving family and many sweet scenes in which everybody gathers, but then it digs rather deeply into the sappy relationship between the mother and Tomoko and that, coupled with a convenient deus ex machina ending, made me feel a little cheated out of a perfectly cute film.

I really think that what I like the most about Noboru Nakamura’s films is the way he depicts families which love each other (at least in “Doshaburi” and “Wa ga ya wa tanoshii”). The opposite of that is the very reason I dislike Hirokazu Koreeda, where I thought that both “Nobody knows” and “Still Walking” are both based on neglect and hatred. Maybe “Soshite chichi ni naru” is better than that (and honestly I am very curious about the film). Coming back to Nakamura, his depictions may seem a little too idealized and melodramatic, but to me they absolutely feel realistic. As long as it touched me, I believe there is some positive connection between what Nakamura shows and what I feel about family relationships. I have just dismissed the deus ex machina ending in the story but the truth is that I found it emotionally satisfying, completing the little fairy tale Nakamura crafted.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 7 (The Midnight After)

We were considering watching “Ieji” today which, incidentally, I ended up not seeing at all and Pixelmatsch will blog about it. Instead, “The Midnight After” was going to be shown in Berlin’s best movie theater, the Zoo Palast, where we also saw “Calvary”. This time, it’s not a premiere but oh we couldn’t pass up another opportunity to go into the Zoo Palast. Hence, the evening of Day 7 only comprised on single film, and it was good that way because another movie after “The Midnight After” would mean a sensory overload detrimental to both films.

drrt

The Midnight After
Hongkong/China 2014, Fruit Chan, 124’

Around midnight, in the middle of bustling Hongkong, a group of passengers boards a mini-bus going to Tai Po. The group’s 17 people is as diverse as can be – a few students of the University of Hong Kong, a druggie, a young man talking on the phone with his girlfriend and a young woman talking on the phone with her boyfriend, an arguing couple, a hipster who codes apps, two delinquent youngsters with nothing to do, a mafia member and finally the driver. When the bus reaches the highway exit to Tai Po, they suddenly realize that everybody else is gone – no people, no cars. In Tai Po, they quickly see that the city is empty while strange things are happening and people are dying in random ways. Why did everybody else disappear? What will the group do, and will they even stay together?
Death count: 6. (I think.)

When I went into the film, I had no idea that “The Midnight After” was going to be an utterly strange parody. I was an idiot for thinking that at some point there would be a big revelation of all these strange happenings, something that miraculously explains everything. There were people turning into zombie-like creatures and then into ashes, people completely disappearing, a guy having hallucinations about how a girl has an evil side, people in gas masks speaking Japanese trying to “save” the group, mysteries in the main characters’s past, phone calls suggesting it’s been 6 years since the film started, a containment field suggesting that some nuclear catastrophe has happened etc. etc. The film contained aspects of zombie, horror, viruses But then, pouf, the film was over when I felt like it could have gone on for another 2 hours. As a result, I think this expectation of getting an answer deterred me a little bit for taking the film as it is and enjoying it that way. Luckily I was too obsessed with it, and actually enjoyed myself lots. There is just so much to love in this film.

To be precise, there are two layers of what there is to love about the film. One is what the film is inherently great about, which only really makes up about 30% of it. The other are the homages and references the film pays to, and that may not be understandable for everyone. Just like genre films (of which we saw many at the Berlinale) can only really be enjoyed when you are into the genre, the enjoyment of “The Midnight After” heavily depends on your knowledge and enjoyment of Hongkong and horror films (and those films who are both). In my case, maybe I am just into parodies in general. I barely never watch any Hongkong or openly dislike horror films, but I loved this film. Similarly, I haven’t seen all that many James Bond films or spy films of the type, yet I love “Branded to Kill”. This case is similar, the way this film parodies the genre makes you love the genre and, even more amazingly, makes you love Hongkong. I have never been to the city, but the strong sense of local patriotism flowing through the film is so adorable that I really got into it. My feelings about Berlin are similar – somewhat dirty, somewhat chaotic, very diverse and so bustling with culture – I wish someone made a film about Berlin just like this.

I told Shii and 6451 that this is the no.1 Berlinale film they missed. I still think so, but I realize that my love for the film may be amplified by my love for parodies, for Hongkong trashiness and for confessions of love to a city. Even so, the film still has aforementioned 30% of layer one to offer. It’s a feast for the eyes, amazingly funny and just so incredibly well-written, turning a piece which absolutely makes no sense into a story where happenings at the beginning actually relate to what happen later. All characters are likable losers but each of them is in a different way, and their interactions are genuine and so much fun. My favorite scene is probably the one where Yuki is being asked to get a knife, and she can’t jerk out the knife she wanted of the wood. Instead she has the choice between a tiny knife and a cleaver, and each time she goes to get one, she ends up with the knife totally inappropriate for the task. The second best is the random Tohoku earthquake nuclear catastrophe insertion. (We joked about how we got to see Fukushima after all, having skipped on “Ieji” for the sake of this film.)
At the same time, the movie also never fails to show humanity. The ending where the insurance lady reflects upon her life and how she never really appreciated her mother’s help touched me to the point I almost wanted to cry. This little film showed more humanity and truth than many non-parodies, and that automatically made it become one of the most memorable films I have seen in recent years.

Originally, I had no idea what this film would be – I didn’t know about the web-novel it is based on, all I knew is that I have had Fruit Chan on my radar after seeing “Dumplings”, and I find him to be an extraordinarily good director. I can’t wait to see what he does next.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 7 (Bai Ri Yan Huo)

I got tickets for the film on the first day tickets were released, but after the fact I was annoyed at myself for having gotten tickets for the morning at 9.30. It was going to be a tough day with me having to go back home in the afternoon, and I was not looking forward to it. In the end, we saw this film and “The Midnight After” in the evening, and it almost became the best day of this year’s Berlinale, with both titles better than almost every film from 2009 (though I only saw 8 films during the festival at the time, so that may not mean that much).

Even though we only got there shortly before it started, we managed to get reasonable seats – a little far in front but very centered. We learn that not many people want to go to the movie theaters early in the morning on a weekday, and certainly not for a Chinese film.

drrt

Bai Ri Yan Huo (Black Coal, Thin Ice)
China 2014, Diao Yinan, 106′

In 1999, pieces of a corpse are found in various coal mines. The protagonist, Zhang Zili, is a police officer investigating the murder case and can’t put it to rest even after some of his colleagues died and the case was closed. More mysterious deaths happen and they are all related to the same woman. As he tries to find out the truth, Zhang slowly falls in love with her.
Death count: 7. (I think.)

Usually my excitement for a film is somewhat proportional to the length of the posting I dedicate to it. In the case of “Bai Ri Yan Huo”, the length does not mean much. I think this movie a must-see, and considering that it won the Golden Bear at the Berlinale, it won’t take long until it appears at least on the internet. However, I am not into analyzing a film whose main characteristic is suspense. I could compare it to classic film noirs (especially “The Maltese Falcon” which I incidentally never saw, only read) or Hitchcock movies, but I think it’s pretty moot. Perhaps it’s worthwhile to mention that I really love film noirs, and it’s important to like the genre to like this film. “Bai Ri Yan Huo” is a very classic example of the genre, though I guess we have to call it neo-noir. The film works because the female main character is somewhat special (an somewhat phlegmatic ice queen, much unlike the typical passionate femme fatale) and very attractive, the male character does the slightly screwed up, rugged policeman very believably, and the setting is suitably dark and atmospheric. Add a few absurdly comic scenes (the chase scene on ice! Hahaha!) and you got “Bai Ri Yan Huo”, the film every film noir should be like.

Personally, I suppose I have a thing for domestic love stories like “Chiisai Ouchi” and preferred it on a personal level, but from what I saw in the competition, I think that “Bai Ri Yan Huo” totally deserved its Golden Bear and wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who does not have an intense dislike against film noirs or crime stories. “Bai Ri Yan Huo”‘s win is proof that sometimes the simple wins over the pretentious, the moody over the beautiful, the underrated over the critically loved and finally, the story-telling wins over the (typically overtly political) meaning. The Berlinale jury finally gave the Golden Bear to something that is just a good film, no more and no less. That is awesome and that is why you all need to see this film to remind ourselves what movies are all about.

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Berlinale 2014, Day 6 (Velvet Terrorists)

We are back at the Delphi, and successfully purchased tickets like 20 minutes before the show started. We just couldn’t get there any earlier after “Nasake no hikari” was over. The movie theater was actually reasonable well filled, considering that the Delphi holds 1000 people. Ah, the Delphi… with “Ai no Mukidashi” we saw the best Berlinale film of all times here. Even though I always felt their organisation is pretty terrible, I generally like the theater. It’s beautiful and evokes memories of a wonderful movie, and the only Q&A where I have ever posed a question.

drrt

Zamatoví teroristi (Velvet Terrorists)
Slovak Republic/Czech Republic/Croatia 2013, Peter Kerekes/Pavol Pekarcík/Ivan Ostrochovsky, 87’

In this three-part film made by three directors, each director is following the lives of a former terrorist in the 80s while they talk about what happened at the time and reflect upon their terrorist acts. Stano tried to blow up a Communist party viewing platform out of a whim, and has been doing odd jobs after coming out of prison. In his free time, he likes to blow up things. He tries to date, and after a few humorous failed attempts finally meets a woman who seems to share no interest with him, but they find bonding moments anyways. Fero tried to kill the president of Czechoslovakia within a small, organized group. Having lost contact with his girlfriend at the time, he has since married and teaches his two sons how to make bombs and drive cars dangerously. When he tries to contact the past girlfriend again, she refuses to speak to him. Vladimir’s battle is still very much alive. He believes that the system today is just as rotten as it was back in the day, and takes a young female apprentice whom he gives military-style training, teaching her how to fire weapons and defending herself.
Death count: 0.

Personally, I thought the best part of the film is its humor. Of course I was interested in the stories and the characters and especially the past of these people, but what made the film so brilliant was definitely its humor. The most iconic element of the film is probably the cute little “pling” you hear every time there is an explosion (instead of the actual sound of the explosion). Apart from that, many comical scenes are interspersed throughout the film, showing the absurdity of both the characters and the socialist regime they were fighting against. What they do doesn’t always make sense, and the tale of their failed terrorist attempts mirrors their failures in life. With this combination of humor and political seriousness, the characters are portrayed as lovely losers, and as such they have a lot to show us.

The directors were at the screening, and there was a Q&A afterwards. Unfortunately the questions were pretty bad, and the answers seemed very awkward. The worst part was that the directors did not have an easy time answering the question “what is documentary and what is fiction in your film?” Honestly, I think it’s pretty easy to tell what is real and what is not. Everything that looks like scriptwriting, everything that is overtly funny, everything that is a “story” in the film is obviously scripted. Everything the people say, like what they think about their acts of terrorism etc. are obviously real life occurrences and real reactions. This combination actually makes the film really precious, because it’s executed so well. I don’t know why the directors couldn’t just say that, why they really wanted to stress how everything in the film was “true” – how all the dialogue was having people talk and run the camera, how their funny sound effect is related to something in real life. I didn’t want to hear that. I love a good mix between fiction and documentary, and this film executed such a concept wonderfully. Perhaps I should ignore what they say about their own film, and just enjoy the film itself.

Overall, “Velvet Terrorists” was a great surprise. It totally doesn’t take itself seriously, and I laughed multiple times during the screening. When I read about what the film would be about political terrorists talking about their past, I was afraid it might be one of those extremely boring political documentaries, but didn’t anticipate that it would be so funny. This was another great success in the Delphi!

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Berlinale 2014, Day 6 (Nasake no hikari)

Back at the Zeughauskino, we chose this film because Stephen Horne would accompany it. In the end, there weren’t actually that many interesting Japanese films in the Retrospective section, but I didn’t know that at the time and I jump at every occasion to see one of my favorites silent film pianists. Stephen Horne is definitely one of them, and it made it worthwhile to see these somewhat cumbersome movies. He also has this really cute way acknowledging the film when people start clapping after the performance, by making a presenting move at the end (like what the conductor does with the orchestra when people clap for him).

Right when “Arrete ou je continue” was over, we had to march towards the Zeughauskino and got there like 2 minutes before the film started.

drrt

Nasake no hikari (Light of Compassion)
Japan 1926, Henry Kotani, 62’

Junichi is a poor boy who has to work in the morning and afternoon to help buying medicine for his sick mother. When he helps a girl in his class, some boys start to bully him. When the girl observes the bullying and his family’s dire financial situation, she tells her father who decides to help the family.
Death count: 0.

Not many people came to see the film. It’s a somewhat strange choice, being one of those almost propagandistic films commissioned by the government. In this case, at least the film promotes moral courage and compassion for the poor, so at least I can get behind the message of the film. (And I do so very strongly.)

Apart from that, the film was really clumsy. The script was extremely one-dimensional, the characters were all tropes (the poor boy, the sick mother, the nice rich girl, the loving rich father etc.) and there was nothing special about the direction or cinematography either. I’d rather say they were pretty bad. In the first part the film spends a lot of time depicting how poor the main character is, and what a good boy he is. In the second part he helps out a girl and subsequently gets bullied. In the last part, some time passes, the boy has grown older and when his mother sees she does not have the means to send him to secondary school, the girl’s father decides to help them out financially. The entire story has no real conflict – the poverty is just there and everything else that happens leads to the final act of compassion by the girl’s father in a straight-forward manner without a single retardation, no-one who actively tries to sabotage the attempt to help, or anything like that. As a result, the movies spends an hour showing no more than “A needs help, B notices A due to his kindness, B decides to help A”.

There are tiny details I actually liked about the film. The girl’s kimono and hair-do were so cute for example! Honestly, I want to imitate that doll-like look. Other than that, the film was not really worth seeing by itself, even though I thought it was of the “bland but cute” fare.