The MondoCurry Top 5 Favorites of the 2012 New York Asian Film Festival plus Rogue's Gallery

Having withdrawn from New York City’s sweltering humidity to take respite in a Pacific island hideaway, I’ve had time for my New York Asian Film Festival reflections to bake, cool off, and gel into my Top 5 favorites list. It's a highly subjective list of favorites from among the new movies shown (the amazing retro film selection assembled for this year’s fest, centered around guests Choi Min-Sik and Donnie Yen, plus the most WTF mind melters the NYAFF programmers could unearth, deserves a look all its own) .  Bear in mind there are films I did not get a chance to see and there is also the factor of my tastes leading me to be inclined to prefer certain types of films over others. At the same time, this is a year that I’ve seen more of the films than any previous, in part because of a greater willingness to partake in advance screenings and screeners -- perks of being affiliated with a legitimate online outlet, which has also allowed for a few replays of movies that demanded a repeat viewing to truly absorb.  And there was also the great camaraderie among other writers and moviegoers making it a pleasure to stick out long stints in the theater.  Anyway, here we go...

1. NAMELESS GANGSTER (South Korea)

This is a big, sprawling epic and totally based in reality gangster related drama. Making use of a historical backdrop of South Korea over the course of the ‘80s and early 90’s, during which the government decided to commit to a massive purge of organized crime, it tells a messy tale of traditional ancestral hierarchy butting heads with the code of gangsters. There are many confrontations that explore the fragile yet explosive male ego as shaped by Korean society.  Music is cleverly used to show the timeframe of the story with the ‘90s crackdown marked by a suspenseful score (think the moody beat driven sounds of movies like The Yellow Sea and The Unjust), contrasting a cover (by Chang Kiha and the Faces) of a swirling psychedelic pop tune, I Heard a Rumor signifying the ‘80s. The main attraction is of course Choi Min-Sik’s nuanced performance as a middle aged customs officer one notch above being a grunt, unwittingly brought into the folds of organized crime. At once terrified, and yet too prideful and aware of the potential rewards to walk away from the game, it’s an attention commanding performance. And when the movie does reach its conclusion, set in a distant present day, it does feel like coming to the well earned end of a hard travelled journey.

2. MONSTERS CLUB (Japan)

This film crept up from nowhere and haunted me at an advanced screening. Followed by weeks of various other features, I wondered if it would in fact hold up to my early impressions. But sure enough, all it took was the discovery of a clip of quietly brooding music from the movie to bring those strange, enchanting feelings right back.  It is a unique blend of striking images, controversial political messages, and internal struggle. Though abstract in its telling, there is a powerful story about finding one’s way amid powerful and difficult to understand influences bursting at its seams.    


3. KING OF PIGS (South Korea) 


Having watched this film quite a few times to familiarize myself with its proceedings (to prepare for an interview with its director that I am still sorting through), it almost eluded the list having become something of an academic text.  Entertaining, it is not. At least not without some serious psychic damage along with it.  A fluid animation with a muted color palette that still manages to pop, it’s a bleak tale of two down on their luck men looking back on junior high school days filled with systematic oppression and resulting tragedy. The choice of animating this tale allows for some tripped out elaborations on its dark themes: humans transform into dogs and swines to represent their status, cats and corpses taunt the living and their powerlessness in the face of more well-off bullies, and Chul, a boy for whom violence is inseparable from his everyday existence, warps into monstrous forms to show his increasingly hate-filled state of mind. This film truly challenges a way of life in a way that is both beautiful and painful to look at.

4. BLOODY FIGHT IN IRON ROCK VALLEY (South Korea)  

With a slight now you see it now you don’t presence on the festival’s schedule, I can’t help but try to draw some attention to it. That and I am a mark for some straightforward, yet very well done pulpy action.  This film manages to do a whole lot with just a little, and that sense of economy is one of the things about it that won me over. Adorning characters with little more than regular apparel and making great use of a sleepy backwoods town and seemingly abandoned spaces, it tells a tale of revenge against convincingly portrayed heartless men who do very bad things, wrought by a steely eyed loner whose blackened heart allows him to do equally bad things in turn. Along the way, the pursuit of vengeance runs across a corrupt conspiracy and a truly dazzling damsel in distress. It’s minimally packaged into a neat little nail biter of a thriller from a director I am definitely eager to see more from.

5. SCABBARD SAMURAI (Japan) 


Picking the final slot was a challenge because at least two other films vied for a position on this list. But alas, no ties allowed, a 5th place film must be named. I chose Scabbard Samurai because it is such an amazingly pure and heartfelt gesture. Watched again, the trials of its reluctant samurai, Kanjuro, work on another level, saying something about entertaining the masses while still carrying the burden of an unfulfilled soul. It speaks of the paralyzing effects of loss, as both Kanjuro and the prince who he has been charged with entertaining both mourn the deaths of those they held dearest to a plague brought into the story through mention only. Kanjuro’s grand gesture to his daughter, passed along in an impassioned performance by a half speaking half singing monk, has the sort of deep significance that could only come through sacrifice. Considering the director’s more trifling early ventures makes this film an even stronger statement.

As the 5th spot was difficult to determine, here are some honors for two other truly remarkable films:

HONEY PUPU (Taiwan) - a densely coded, brilliantly colored blast of alien logic on the impermanence of all things (including us), told about and perhaps for a generation longing for nostalgia but totally fluent in virtual technologies. Abstracted beyond any followable logic, if that bothers you, you’re not likely to enjoy it. If you can let go and enjoy the ride, then strap yourself in and prepare for take off.

VULGARIA (Hong Kong) - a whip smart, low brow assault on good taste, with both inside cultural and universal humor a plenty, that takes shots at the film industry, yet at the same time works as a sincere tribute to those that put everything on the line to make movie magic.

Thank you to everyone on the New York Asian Film Festival team for making this magic happen!

And thanks to friends, new and old, who made the festival an especially good time to be had!!

Me on twitter = @mondocurry

MC Squared: MondoCurry Joins the Monsters Club (NYAFF, Japan Cuts 2012)

Truth be told, Monsters Club, directed by Toshiaki Toyoda and starring Japanese rising star Eita, has been a very difficult movie for me to write about. Since watching it at a preview of New York Asian Film Festival and Japan Cuts co-presentations, this piece has gone through many a false start only to halt and wait for me to come back around to it later. I’ve thought over what to include and what would best be left out, saved for when there’s occasion for a deeper discussion. Perhaps the one thing I am certain of is how hard I’ve fallen for the movie...For the strong feelings it evoked in me, and for the questions it has left me considering well after seeing it. The best approach may just be to lay out the details that comprise this unique little film and see where it takes us...

First there is the film’s potentially inflammatory premise: A story influenced by the life of infamous real life political terrorist, Ted Kaczynski (The Unabomber), about a lone individual, told with surreal elements and a sympathetic tone.

The alternate reality Unabomber depicted here is a young man inhabiting a cabin in the seclusion of Japan’s snow covered, mountainous woodlands. One thing that may give people the impression of a sense of empathy for the controversial figure is that this fictional one is far from the scraggly menace many associate with his real life counterpart of the American midwest. Rather, Ryoichi is debonair in his appearance. The details of his hermetic existence suggests a connoisseur’s appreciation of outdated relics: he listens to selections of Appalachian music and 19th century opera on a gramophone, his dwelling is carefully adorned with time worn scales, mortar and pestles, tinned powders and other antiquities. newspapers documenting corporate targets whom his homemade explosives have made their way to are not roughly strewn about, but framed, imbued with amber tones. The carefully preserved arrangement betrays the destruction these items give testimony to.

Another aspect of the film that suggests an almost appreciative look at the subject is the excerpts of Kaczynski’s manifesto (which sound as if genuine) chosen to be included and how much more poignant they perhaps are a decade or so after first being exposed to the world. Instead of emphasizing the more fanatical, violent elements, there are references to individual freedoms and basic urges, and how they are at odds with modern cityscapes, a dehumanized labor force, and the push of technology. One has to wonder if this takes on a more charged meaning, not only to a society in which the next lifestyle shaping mobile device is being marketed only moments after the current one was purchased, but in particular a young, frustrated Japanese workforce. The same that, a few years ago, were profoundly moved by the resurgence of an anti-capitalist leaning novel, Kaniko-sen (later adapted into a film by Sabu).

A simple expression of sympathy for a figure so widely regarded as a monster may seem sufficiently in character for the controversial director, who was blacklisted from Japan’s film industry after drug possession charges (only to return with the noisy, tripped out film Blood of Rebirth).  However, there is much more to it than that. Behind the controversial premise of Monsters Club is a surprisingly delicate portrait of loss and madness.

After spending a bit of time in Ryoichi’s snow frosted physical environ, the story turns inward to explore the protagonist’s fragile and fragmented mental state, as he is visited by several entities. Some are ghosts of the past; others are monsters, one made up of a dripped, hardened candle wax consistency while another bears the likeness of a smeared and overly painted clown (neither would seem out of place in one of Matthew Barney’s surreal Cremaster films). The more humanlike visitors are members of Ryoichi’s family.  Their living or dead status can be determined through their dialogue with Ryoichi, yet whose presence is real or imagined is a question that is trickier to answer with certainty. Flashbacks of uneasy family gatherings, tinted by a sense of over-formality and malaise, slide in and out of Ryoichi’s consciousness. This creates a clearer picture of Ryoichi’s relationship with the rest of his family, in particular, an older brother who met a tragic end.  In Yuki, we find someone Ryoichi held in the highest regard, whose path seemed irreproachably pure. Yet, because of its grizzly end, Ryoichi cannot shake a sense of doubt over his devotion to it.

At its core, the film is less about manifestoes and more about the deep personal conflict that comes when one is forced to question the wisdom of that who he once revered above all others. Political agendas take a backseat to this more personal struggle to find one’s way. In this regard Monsters Club joins other contemporary Japanese films that look at directionless individuals in need of guidance. Among them, find Odagiri Jo’s twenty-something troubled soul drifting through life in Kurosawa Kiyoshi’s Bright Future. Yet, while Bright Future’s stunted wanderer finds a father figure, Ryoichi has been left behind by his mentor. His salvation can only come from within.

Consider too, for a moment, the so-called ‘club’ of the movie's title.  At best it is a lonely one, boasting only one living, breathing member. It may speak of a bigger societal concern in Japan. One where loneliness drives many of its youth to seek out something to share, to identify with others, even if it is an ugly, negative instinct. Look at another of this year’s Japan Cuts features that is shockingly based on true events, Let’s Make the Teacher Have a Miscarriage Club (being shown in a triptych of shorter films) to see how this desperate need for a sense of belonging can manifest itself in the most brutal of ways.
Rather than include the trailer, which in an effort to sell tickets gets the mood all wrong, here is a clip previewing a special live event, featuring director Toshiaki Toyoda and the composer of Monster Club’s score Teruyuki Terui, performing together in a live unit. While it contains few if any moments from the actual film, it features its soundtrack prominently and captures the haunting and serene melancholy that flows throughout.

Were this a dull lifeless palette, or in any way amateurish in its production, Monster Club’s mysteries might be better off left alone. It is not at all difficult to watch. In fact it is quite beautifully shot, alternating between a sleepy snow covered wilderness and the immaculately pieced together interior of Ryoichi’s cabin awash in hushed golden tones, nothing short of a minor steampunk fantasy. Then there is the soothingly mesmerizing score penned, surprisingly, by Toshiyuki Terui, member of a former J-rock band Blanky Jet City. It is made up of slow building compositions that would blend in perfectly with the likes of Bill Callahan, The Dirty Three, or the more brooding recordings of Godspeed You! Black Emperor and A Silver Mt. Zion. As the end approaches, Ryoichi’s voiceover narrative takes on a truly lyrical quality. Political contexts become intertwined with more personal ones. It is a flowing text that is not overwrought and gives the sense that it could be...even should be remembered and recited.

You need not look too hard to find ambiguities. A consideration of character’s names for instance, could give reasonable cause to call into question how much of Ryoichi’s exploits are real and how much are part of his mental perception -- the same goes for physical spaces -- are they real or a mental construct? Regardless of the interpretation one cannot negate the significance of his journey. When Ryoichi sets out into what does seem to be the world, shouldering a ticking ultimatum that demands, not the surrender of corporations, but the reading of an obscure poem, we are forced to truly reconsider his identity: Is he nihilistic radical or confused romantic?

Monsters Club is a triumph of subtle filmmaking. It poses questions whose elusive nature provokes thought rather than frustrates, and hides inner struggles inside more obvious political ones: In the end Ryoichi will succumb to pressures to carry on a malignant cycle or break free from it? This is a small, obscured marvel worth dusting off and taking a closer look at.

Monsters Club will be co-presented by The New York Asian Film Festival and Japan Cuts on Sunday, July 15 at the Japan Society.

Visit Subway Cinema and Japan Society’s guide to Japan Cuts for more information.

Me on twitter = @mondocurry

Bloody...Attorney...Zone: New York Asian Film Festival day 7

Today was my last day of seeing movies at this year’s New York Asian Film Festival.  In a way it makes me sad, when  I consider the many great screenings in the coming week that I won’t be able to be at.  There is a less gloomy side, too.  If it’s true that it’s good to end things on a positive note, today’s slate would most definitely fit that description.  I talked to some great people and saw three eye popping movies, in the theater -- the way they are meant to be seen, back to back with no long breaks in between.  In fact, today’s proceedings were almost like a perfect microcosm of the festival on a whole: It started with something new (Bloody Fight In Iron-Rock Valley), low key enough to probably go largely overlooked but accomplished enough to really excite me.  I’d venture to put forth it marks the beginning of a new director’s very promising path.  Then, there was a cross cultural anomaly in the form of Miike Takashi’s video game adaptation Ace Attorney.  It’s the kind of mainstream treat that would probably never be made here, yet rabid fans of Japanese culture exports and video games alike gave it a frenzied reception that it would probably not see the likes of in its country of origin.  And then there was an underappreciated classic Killzone (Shao Po Lan), an ultraviolent ode to rage that had not been known to me before, and therefore knocked me flat on the ground.  And this of course was followed by one of the festival’s stellar guests, action expert Donnie Yen, talking about the film and meeting fans.  The only thing missing was perhaps a midnight movie, but after the previous night’s screening of Miami Connection, it’s hard to imagine anything that could go any higher...or should I say, lower....in the holy crap that’s crazy department.

Bloody Fight in Iron-Rock Valley (Korea, 2011) is an exciting entry into the action revenge genre giving exposure to several future talents (especially director Ji Ha-Jean.  It is noteworthy for capturing numerous beautifully composed scenes in a barren wasteland of a remote town, and with a minimum of attention to wardrobe.  The story is set in a vacuum, not making any references to a particular time or place, although the clothing and setting suggest something contemporary.  The movie also scores points for very efficiently establishing a background, in fact spending very little time on it.  Rather there is much attention devoted to building up a mood of suspense.  Expect a more detailed follow up look at the film over at the Violent Eye (because damn, this movie is violent!), and in the meantime DB’s most recent report from the festival looks more closely at the Bloody Fight’s Western genre roots.

Ace Attorney struck me as a fascinating cultural phenomenon.  As an adaptation, I’ve heard it’s spot on. As I was unaware of the particulars of the video game, the movie has got me coming around to appreciating the gaming world as having far more potential for producing exciting and innovative narratives.  The world of Ace Attorney is set in a dystopian future that suggests plenty of criticism of our current society.  It poses the possibilities of accelerated crime rates leading to a backlog of court cases -- the solution being speed up the trial process.  And at the same time, the cases become a spectator sport with the the prosecution and defense shouting out cries of objection with martial arts gusto, and projecting giant digital displays to introduce evidence.  You are dead on you are guessing these cases are presented as spectacles for the masses, complete with confetti and flashing lights adorning the party with the winning verdict.  It bears a striking similarity to the notion of people’s real life fates becoming the entertainment of the day that is explored so prominently in The Hunger Games.

And to make things further interesting, instead of just presenting a few isolated juicy cases, all of them build together into a story about influential figures and corruption.  It is long and has many convoluted details, many of which left me more confused than anything else.  But the bells and whistles that Miike adds into the courtroom scenes along with his knack for making every character the perfect living embodiment of cartoonish exaggerated expression make it a visual wonder.  I found the wardrobes, effects, and performances outshined even his joyful tribute to Yatterman from a few years back.  Possibly best viewed when accompanied with crib notes, or at least the game’s instruction manual, but definitely worth the visual treat you would be giving your eyes.

SPL: Shao Po Lan was a 90’s shot at bringing back Hong Kong grit and no nonsense action from the decade prior.  It did so along with an injection of rocket fueled action choreography brought on by an on the verge of becoming huge Donnie Yen.  Interestingly, just the night before, fellow Unseen contributor Mr. C and I were talking about the big guests that NYAFF has been landing after moving to Lincoln Center; among them, pillars of Hong Kong cinema Sammo Hung and Simon Yam.  And in SPL, the two of them along with Donnie created a tour de force of raw anger and physical aggression.  There is a frantic alleyway fight scene between Donnie Yen and Wu Jing that involves an unbelievable intensity of steel crashing against steel.  Donnie also has an extremely physical fight with a very King Pin-esque Sammo Hung involving wrestling and MMA moves that do not seem humanly possible, and that is before bodies are dropped onto tables or a towering glass wet bar.  

For the second night in a row, Donnie Yen would greet fans enthusiastically and with a relaxed sense of humor.  He discussed the budget constraints he had to contend with to bring about the unforgettable fight scene with Wu Jing.  He spoke highly of his working relationship with Ip Man director Wilson Yip, comparing Yip’s calm with his own boisterousness, and their interest in developing a third installment of the Ip Man movies.  He also gave an endorsement to Cung Le when asked which MMA fighter he would be most excited about working with and expressed general and genuine interest in working with the many talented individuals in the realm of action cinema today.


All in all it's been another great year, full of surprises, and far more than I have yet been able to digest. After a temporary resituating, I will return with a look back at some of the highlights and some extras from the q & a's and interviews that happened. But don't let my forlorn note of farewell distract you. You have much to go out and see: Wu Xia screened before Donnie Yen is awarded the Star Asia Award, the South Korean science fiction 3-ring circus that is The Doomsday Book, the onslaught of Japanese films when things move over to the Japan Society for co-presentations with the Japan Cuts festival and more, more, more!

LINKS


Subway Cinema New York Asian Film Festival Page


Japan Cuts

Me on Twitter = @mondocurry

Impoverished Pigs, Spinning Spears, and New Wave Ninjas: New York Asian Film Festival day 6

New York Asian Film Festival, you push my sanity to the outer limits.  And I do mean ‘limits’ plural.  Starting the day, I had an interesting conversation with Yeun Sang-Ho, director of animated feature and heated conversation starter of this year’s fest, The King of Pigs, before watching the emotionally exhausting film’s NY theater premiere.  The day ended with Grandmaster Y K Kim kicking apples into the audience before watching the insanely out of tune 80s hit The Miami Connection with a raucous audience.  Somewhere in between I felt the radiant star power of Donnie Yen as he pleased a packed crowd of enthusiastic fans waiting for their first chance to see the action star in person as he presented new film The Lost Bladesman. Suffice it to say, my frame of mind is suffering serious whiplash.

The King of Pigs takes a very hard look at an incident prone span of time in a jr. high school, seen through the memories of two individuals in the midst very difficult times that meet up in their adult lives.  Through this deliberately constructed account, we see layer upon layer of a system in which the poor and downtrodden are beaten down by the more well off and powerful.  While much of it takes place within the school, the dire situations beheld here extend into the home, and have just as much to do with economic disparity as it does adolescent cruelty.  

It may seem like a strange move to tell a realistic story like this through animation, but it works incredibly well.  First, there is Yeun’s drawing style which renders the characters in far from ideal, tired and worn looking fashion, with features that transform into creature-like rage they face violence.  There is also the myth-like structure of the story, that relates the strong and in control to dogs while the weak and powerless are related to pigs.  The animation makes for a smooth transition from human to animal. Then there are the surreal situations in which monstrous visions of cats and deceased relatives taunt the suffering kids, and one very intense sequence where the troubled boy, Chul, under the influence of a drug subsitute, transforms into a shaking, growling pitch black semi-human form.  These fantastical images heighten the intensity of an already challenging story filled with harsh realities like planned suicides, out of work parents, and other hardships that depict a hopelessness that surrounds the young protagonists.  More details on the interview I did with Yeun, plus the q & a he did after the film screening will follow soon.

Donnie Yen appeared to delight a sold out audience in what would be his first visit to the Walter Reade Stage.  He welcomed and joked with the audience before setting up the film being shown, The Lost Bladesman, also getting its New York premiere.  Everyone got a folder with Donnie’s images emblazoned on the front and back.  Everyone got an item autographed, making him another extremely gracious guest of this year’s festival.  The movie was an elaborate historic tale, based around Jiang Weng’s shifty lord and Yen’s begrudging yet fierce warrior role.  There are startling action sequences involving the wielding of a giant spear and a chase down a narrow alley with chipped tiles raining down on those in pursuit.

After the film Donnie was once again very engaging in his interaction with the crowd.  He spoke of his preference for modern action roles and named his favorite onscreen sparring partner to be Jet Li.  He spoke of the fateful way in which he landed the Ip Man role, after a strange alternate universe possibility had presented itself years earlier that would have him play the part opposite Stephen Chow portraying Bruce Lee.  I’m very much looking forward to Db’s report on interviewing Donnie earlier in the day.

The night ended in B-movie glory with The Miami Connection.  The insanely bad dialogue and strange flow, coupled with new wave band that sings about tae-kwon do and fighting ninjas, plus a lot of street fighting and a message of intense earnestness about using tae-kwon do to bring about peace and understanding.  The movie is being released on high definition blu ray dvd by Alamo Drafthouse’s imprint.  It is a spectacle that needs to be experienced if you like uncompromising visions that spit in the face of good sense or quality.  Before the movie, star and co-writer Grandmaster Y K Kim himself came out, did a quick demonstration involving a cartoonish beatdown of some of his students, and some kicks that launched apples into the crowd. The author/director/motivational speaker hung around the theater afterwards to meet and greet fans.

With excitement mixed with a bit of sadness, I await my last day of watching movies live at the festival.  On the docket: Korean genre workout Bloody Fight in Iron Rock Valley, Miike’s Ace Attorney, and Donnie Yen classic Killzone aka SPL.

Starting To Get Weird - Zero Man Vs The Half Virgin, Dead Bite: New York Asian Film Festival day 5

It is starting to get weird around here.  The most unexpected word there probably being ‘starting,’ as we are already one week into the New York Asian Film Festival.  But, the beginning being, for me, mostly about the masterful film work featuring actor Choi Min-Sik, it is now getting around to that time when the crazy genre head trips are being rolled out.  Today it was afternoon delight ZERO MAN VS. THE HALF VIRGIN (Japan) and then back for the late night screening of DEAD BITE (Thailand).

When is a comedic sex romp not a comedic sex romp?  Or rather, is it possible for it to be five tenths of one? nine tenths of one?  Zero Man Vs. The Half Virgin poses the same question about the status of one’s virginity, when amnesiatic, superpower besieged, and generally awkward beat cop Kenichiro Sakuragi perceives the slowly increasing decimal on a constantly reappearing young lady’s forehead as the number of sex partners she has had.  This confounding detail coincides with a memory of a grand purpose that hits the main character like a bolt from the sky:  to put every effort into having sex with a virgin (an act which would also rid himself of his own nagging virginity).  Lest you wonder how Sakuragi can know for certain that he is still a virgin with all the gaps in his memory, he is basing things on the less problematic whole number zero that appears on his own forehead.  And oh yeah, these numbers appear to him only when he is, um, doing something rather impolite...with his hand...down there.  Yup.  

With its fair share of exposed skin, this Japanese film oddity most often gets into headier raunchy territory via dialogue, much like this year’s festival opener VULGARIA, and also like that film there is a great deal of humor.  Even its big late bloomer coming of age moment is more focused on facial expressions than other parts of the body.  

While the taboo subject matter is the source of many laughs, it wouldn’t be the case without some surprisingly sharp dialogue.  Besides deadpan exchanges between Sakuragi and a fellow officer, there is a fantastic comedic turn by gaijin actor Don Brown. I am often dubious of foreigners popping up in awkward and seemingly random moments of international films, but here a horribly affected nonnative Japanese accent is used to pull off some very clever and ludicrous dialogue jokes.

For such an outlandish concept, the story rolls along at a slow, loping pace that some may lose patience with.  Still, consistent with some of the director’s more renowned writing work, for instance the even stranger Miike directed film GOZU, the story becomes more twisted and even weirder as it settles into its final act.  

There is also a strange uncomfortableness (that I can’t help finding a little fascinating) in the film’s teetering back and forth between whacked out fantasy and bizarre but entirely possible morbid situations.  Molestation, underage call girls, and incest are all realities that come up in some form or other, and are not played up for laughs.  Yet, before you can get too focused on those unsettling details, the Zero Man myth is explored and defined even deeper, with moves that reference and parody the culture of 70s and 80s rubber suit monster fighting super heroes.

There are enough vulgar laughs and mildly intriguing plot twists to make this something to see, before it is sure to vanish from the Western World that this film is definitely not long for.

Thailand’s DEAD BITE breaks the rules.  It is a film that technically should not have happened.  It is an out and out zombie cannibal b-movie made on a gigantic budget, one that should never be spent on such a movie, lest you come upon something like this -- so gorgeous to look at and 1,000 % insane.  But owing to a major Thai pop star’s larger than life imagination and his acquaintance with Will.I.Am, which allowed for some significant financial backing, you have the making of the impossible.

It begins with Joey Boy, the real life celebrity/leader of Thai hiphop unit Gangcore, playing Joey Boy, the real life celebrity/leader of Thai hiphop unit Gangcore.  He is in a pitch black space, surrounded by other bodies and pools of blood, answering someone else’s cell phone in the hopes of getting help.  But before you can think about that too long it is time to watch Gancore in action, with a blend of hiphop meets bubblegum techno pop, blasting their way through an outdoor concert.  Their bubbly, energetic show is cut short by an audience that has turned into toothy, bloodthirsty creatures, but this is not enough to turn them off from a suddenly scheduled video shoot with beautiful girls at an island get away spot.  

What comes next is an annoying sequence of the band playing around with girls and mugging for the camera, while shooting a cool promo.  It’s pretty ingenious because it is a movie about a band playing around with girls and mugging for the camera while shooting a cool promo, before the island’s various nasty inhabitants emerge and turn things into a living hell.  This might all sound like a typical fun cross promotional vehicle, perhaps less out of place in the ‘70s or ‘80s, putting a popular music artist in an adventure movie setting.  But I ask you...would you expect that kind of vehicle to kill off band members in a giant rush of aquatic zombies? Have one of those band members turn into one of those zombies?  Have another one’s leg amputated in crude fashion? Take the biggest star’s love interest and have her head bashed in by giant-stone wielding natives?  And yet, all of these things happen.  Fear not, I would not give those details away if they were among the film’s most deranged moments.  No, there is far more in store.

Somewhere between the sudden and violent attack of the island’s elements on the band plus their crew and the violent battle that occurs again as the band tries to escape the island (all taking place with an impressively CGI rendered rainstorm in the background) other weirdness happens.  Japanese tourists with their own agenda enter the picture.  An alliance forms between the members of Gancore. A sea monster laments the mistreatment of its son.  And there is plenty of bloody violence.

The island’s onslaught is straight out of retro midnight movie KUNG FU CANNIBALS, a combination of undead hordes and magic ritual conducting inhabitants.  Like that movie and this year’s NYAFF midnight feature BOXER’S OMEN, DEAD BITE offers a fever dream of black magic and mythology that you won’t find coming out of the less superstitious West.

The big question you’re probably still left with is, does the band do a fun, loud live performance before the credits roll?  You’ll have to watch it to find out.



ZERO MAN VS. THE HALF VIRGIN plays again Saturday, July 7 1:30 PM.


DEAD BITE plays again Wednesday, JULY 11 3:50 PM.

For more information, check the Subway Cinema website.

Me on twitter = @mondocurry.

Honey Pupu, a film experience that won't easily fade: New York Asian Film Festival day 4

It was a short day for me at the New York Asian Film Festival. After a rather emotional morning, I headed over to Manhattan for another of this year’s Taiwanese movies, HONEY PUPU, for one of those escapes from reality that a trip to the movies often brings. I had no idea of of just how much of a trip I was in far.

HONEY PUPU is a densely swirling mass of ideas, frustratingly hard to follow at times, but way too beautifully constructed, way too dedicated to a particular vision to be considered a mess. One of my earliest thoughts while watching was that this film was that this movie is not aimed at me, but rather a newer generation, one that is young, angsty, and informed by constant connection to social media.  At least that partially describes the cast of characters that move restlessly about the film.

A quote from a text by Conrad Aiken, “In the beginning nothing, in the end nothing,” sets the stage for the movie, much of which follows members of a generation that are preoccupied with the impermanence of the world around them. In person and virtual chat rooms, they question whether there is any place, object or concept -- love included -- that does not disappear. Captions appear in scenes to let us know structures that used to be there, but no longer stands (it’s rather affecting when a vanished Tower Records is referred to, as myself and surely some others can recall a branch of the record store existing a few blocks away from Lincoln Center, while others will never know of its having been there). Black and white recordings of demolitions sometimes flash on the screen, while at other times one of the characters, Vicky, broadcasts from a DJ booth about everything changing. While questioning the future -- one seemingly important narrative arc finds them pursuing bees whose extinction would eventually spell out disaster for humankind, they also suffer a nostalgia for what is lost that seems to wear away at their souls.

Within all this movement is a soap opera of sorts, albeit one that charges forward and bounces around at warp speed. Characters pine after one another, form awkward love triangles, and find themselves off into different subplots: One character seeks out a maternal figure from her past, another, constructing herself as a femme fatale, plays dangerous games of seduction with strangers, bringing along a heartbroken boy as both fill an emptiness within themselves. Then there is Vicky who tries desperately to find and then reunite with a former lover, though both seem unable to communicate or connect emotionally.

These intricately crisscrossing paths become even more difficult to follow because of the rhythms the characters move and speak in, that are either alien or of a future generation, or one that has already emerged -- perhaps in urban Taiwan or maybe it’s in the writer and director's mind. Whether in person or a virtual meeting spot, characters refer to each other by internet handles, sometimes as arbitrary as ‘Dog’ and ‘Cat, and sometimes changing them before we have matched the original handle to the corresponding face. A character’s younger cousin speaks with others in seemingly random strings of letters and numbers, and characters play strange, more complex offshoots of ‘paper, scissor, rock,’ all with a naturalness that suggests it is common practice. And everyone wears large circular headphones.

If all this seems as though it would be frustrating to keep up with, it might be preferable to let the images move by while soaking in a marvelous score attributed to Chang Wu-wu, extremely modern in its use of buzzing yet sentimental electronics, plus ambient techno and spazzy pop leaning tracks by groups, Telephone and Barbie. This transporting soundtrack, accompanied by amazing images of a light filled urban sprawl are enough of a joy to behold, without even worrying about the story’s many strands.

In fact the further HONEY PUPU pulls away from any tangible logic, the more I found myself enjoying it. This occurs towards the final third of the movie, where scenes jump even more sporadically from one character to the next in the middle of more abstract images, and before you know it, some of them move through a crisply rendered anime-inspired cityscape, with more references to nostalgia.

While it may seem like an arbitrary barrage, there are big ideas with serious thoughts of meaning behind them. Watching the end credits reveals a careful selection of classical music pieces to include in the background. The remainder of Conrad Aiken’s poem, whose beginning and end alone were referenced in the early parts of the movie, suggests the ways individuals make meaning and purpose of their existence. There is plenty of information to seek out after the theater lights go on.

All this crammed into 102 minutes -- it’s a lot to absorb. Outside of this year’s designated to destroy your mind midnight movies, HONEY PUPU might be the festival’s best bet for a WTF mindblowing freak out, which makes its relatively late 10:30 PM screening on Sunday, July 8 seem appropriate.

More information available at the Subway Cinema website.

Me on Twitter = @Mondocurry

Choi Min-Sik Talks: New York Asian Film Festival 2012 Day 3, Part 2

After the initial explosion of exuberance at the chance to finally see actor Choi Min-Sik in person on Saturday (something that I had not considered a possibility before Subway Cinema’s announcement that he would be one of the major guests being brought to this year’s New York Asian Film Festival), Monday was a chance to take in his appearance feeling a bit more calm and composed, but no less mesmerized.  As he introduced each film being shown, he proved himself to be highly spirited and thoughtful.  He spoke about these films made several years ago and his characters in them with the kind of insight one might only expect from a director.  Had he been officially tasked with speaking before us as an ambassador of good will from South Korea’s arts community, I am not sure he could have represented himself any better.      

Min-Sik introduced FAILAN as a film where he is not playing up dark aspects of his character’s personality.  After the film, recent NYAFF mc Bastard Keith spoke to the actor, beginning by discussing his personal experience discovering his films.  Regarding FAILAN, Min-Sik discussed the extreme cold of the setting, something that he was transported back to while rewatching the film (that’s right, far from a detached celebrity, Min-Sik watched the film right along with the audience), and the challenges it posed to costar Cecilia Cheung.  He also described how he lived the life of the character, Kang-jae, to prepare for the heart wrenching role.  In fact, before and during work on a movie, he forces himself to embody the character he is portraying, something he likened to putting himself in a trance. He described the problems this has caused in his life, like when unsavory aspects of some of these personalities, particularly the serial killer in I SAW THE DEVIL, have caused him to lash out against unsuspecting bystanders.  Min-Sik spoke more about that more recent role’s damaging effects.  So strong was its hold on him that he said he sensed the smell of actual blood, leading to extreme bouts of nausea, as buckets of the fake stuff were splattered around him.


Choi was also asked about his inactivity from around 2005 - 2010, during which time he actively spoke out against pressures to abandon a national screen quota system.  The quota system would limit screenings of movies from the United States. while in turn Allows domestic films to be shown in theaters for a minimum amount of time. He explained the importance of this issue to himself, as the quota system would make sure artists such as Kim Ki-Duk and Sang-soo Hong had a chance to have their work shown in theaters that would otherwise be running their operations like a profit-seeking business.  As the government would reject his views and end up caving in to pressures to reduce its quota system, Min-Sik eventually returned to the dearly missed craft of acting.

Hours later Min-Sik would return to greet a warm audience and introduce the final film in the series on his work, CRYING FIST.  He spoke about the film being based on the struggles of real life individuals, adapted to the screen with some fictional elements added.  His character was based on a former Japanese boxer, Hareruya Akira, whose story earning money in central Shinjuku to pay off a large debt fascinated Min-Sik.  During both the introduction and Q & A, Min-Sik described putting himself through a few weeks of rigorous training with an actual high school boxing team in Seoul, and how taxing this exercise was on him physically and mentally.  When asked about methods employed to play such intensely emotional and often physically violent characters, Min-Sik discounted the embrace of any one particular method, as long as he inhabited his characters’ lives in order to prepare for a film.


The evening’s mc, Samuel Jamier (programmer of Japan Cuts and this year’s New York Asian Film Festival) also asked Choi Min-Sik about his time spent away from acting in protest of pressure to stop the Korean film quota system.  He answered from a different perspective than before giving a totally different and equally enlightening insight into the situation.  This time, he explained that while he was not technically working during the time of protesting against the Korean government, he was expressing his point of view and feeling without holding back.  He described his feelings, views, and experiences as his most important instrument in being an actor, and his decision to embrace all of these feelings and experiences -- happy or negative -- help him to focus his craft.  He expressed no regrets in using his status to fight against what he considered an unjust policy, and feels the experience gave him a chance to reflect on himself and come back to acting with an even stronger passion than before.  (This period of protest came before his roles in I SAW THE DEVIL and NAMELESS GANGSTER, so indeed he has returned with as much intensity as ever.)
    
There is little doubt that those unfamiliar with Choi Min-Sik before the screenings became fans, and those who already knew his films left with an even stronger appreciation of his work.  With so much to discuss about his existing body of work, there was little attention directed at his future activity.  It is a future to keep our eyes locked on the path of this very special figure in the world of film.











Me on twitter = @mondocurry

Missed Connections, Landed Punches: New York Asian Film Festival day 3 part 1

Monday was my third day at the 2012 New York Asian Film Festival (the 4th actual day of the festival) and it is shaping up to be a different experience than in past years.  Usually the festival takes the form of an intense stew of new films that push various genres to their most unexpected extremes.  Those new films will hit me in a deluge when the next weekend rolls around.  For now, though, it`s been a smattering of retrospective b-horror and action movies a and couple of new releases, orbiting around a primarily Choi Min-Sik-centric experience.  Had someone asked me which actor I would most like to see brought to the New York Asian Film Festival, I would have named him hands down, so it is no wonder I am putting priority on all of his activity at the festival these past few days.  That does not mean that my moviegoing experiences have only been old and familiar, not by a longshot.  Aside from OLDBOY, I had not yet seen any of his other movies screened at the fest -- the recently released NAMELESS GANGSTER and the two earlier dramas shown Monday, FAILAN and CRYING FIST.  Below is an account of seeing those movies, along with something from the NYAFF sidebar on new Taiwanese films, MAKE UP.  

MAKE UP is an interesting movie, one that combines disparate modes in a way that other films try to blend together, but often make a mess of.  Here the results work out surprisingly well.  It is part slow and picturesque look at an unconventional romance, and part murder mystery along with chases and a building suspense.  The romance involves a high school music teacher and a female student.  While this might set off a powder keg of charged reactions in some audiences, the facts of their large age gap shared gender is brought up subtly and not used to the end of adding any kind of shock value.  When the now grown student, who works as a make up artist for the recently deceased before their funerals, comes across her one time teacher and companion as the subject of her work, it sets off a series of memories documenting their relationship and, simultaneously, a pursuit to find the truth behind what was at first deemed a suicide.  The quietly emotional scenes of the teacher and student forming an intense, secretive bond are beautifully shot and set to a portion of classical music that repeats throughout like a coda.  Contrasting this serenity is an uneasy present day exchange between the deceased teacher`s former student and her psychologist husband.  Both of them offer support and hospitality to one another`s face while, never laying all their cards on the table, while they search for the true nature of their relationship with the former loved one they both shared.  A cop who is portrayed as the stereotypical hotshot, at odds with his department is interested in the case.  His character, while at first coming across as out of place, serves to bridge the two modes of the story, and also make some social commentary emerge in the story.  Through his activity, we are taken for a momentary walk through the world of clubbing, depicting a young generation of Taiwanese as lonely and seeking escape through loud droning electronic music and numbing drugs.  All in all, it is a compelling drama and mystery with characters that have questionable motivations and share connections that seem harmless at first, but have rancorous substances flowing under the surface.          

Next I watched FAILAN, followed by a much needed break and a stroll to recover from the raw emotion of that movie, to return later for another powerful dramatic performance by Choi Min-Sik in CRYING FIST.  The films share some interesting common ground.  In Both, Choi Min-Sik’s character shares an intense exchange with another lead character whom he rarely (and in the case of FAILAN, it could be argued, never) actually interacts with.  In FAILAN, Min-Sik gives voice to those that at the clinging to the bottom rung of society. While not aggrandizing or glorifying the low level gangster he portrays, who suffers from lack of ambition, poor decision making, and an inability to command respect from his younger peers, he makes us keenly aware of his humanity.  After watching him fumble through the first third of the film, we learn of Failan (Cecilia Cheung) and her slight, graceful, and tragic life as a Chinese immigrant drawn to South Korea in search of family.  A routine illegal profit-making action on the part of Min-Sik of giving his identity as her husband (arranged by others in the criminal organization) allows her to stay in the country.  However, illness, loneliness, and isolation are obstacles to her survival.  This is a film about the magic of small acts that, unbeknownst even to those that carry them out, can lift a downtrodden spirit or save a soul.  Yet, this takes place in a very tragic reality, one where fate can be so cruel as to bring people to the edge of togetherness before ripping them apart before their eyes.  

CRYING FIST, directed by the pretty much always on target Ryoo Seung Wan (CITY OF VIOLENCE, THE UNJUST) casts Min-Sik alongside the director’s real life brother Ryoo Seung Bum, as boxers who leading parallel struggle-filled lives that eventually lead them to face off against each other in an amateur boxing competition.  The story, apparently based on the real life stories from Japan, starts with a scene that plants itself firmly in the brain.  Choi Min-sik, wearing boxing gear while bearing a crudely designed cardboard sign, stands in the middle of a crowded city square, barking into a megaphone that he will let all comers hit him to exorcise their demons.  This is how the one time olympic silver medalist is trying to make ends meet as he looks back on a distant athletic career.  Meanwhile, Ryoo Seung Bum appears as never before, cloaked in dreadlocks, knocking around local kids and committing violent crimes.  The usually garrulous actor is here a brooding storm of directionless young adult angst with little hope of a bright future.  After landing in prison, family tragedy and some persistently positive guiding forces help him turn his aggression toward boxing.  After long, harrowing looks at the very real to life situations of both individuals, we get to watch the most difficult kind of movie boxing showdown there is: one where both sides desperately need and very much deserve a victory.  

These two performances find Choi Min-Sik at his most utterly human and empathetic.  These are minor classics that deserve to be revered right alongside his better known work.  And on this night, at least, they received the enthusiastic reception they deserved.  

Another post will soon follow with details on the Q & A’s that Choi Min-Sik engaged in for both movies, hopefully with some audio visual enhancements to help capture our time in the presence of this one of a kind actor.


Me on twitter = @mondocurry

Channeling Mad Sentiment toward Choi Min-Sik: New York Asian Film Festival 2012 day 2

My 2nd day of moviegoing at the 12th New York Asian Film Festival began and ended with hypnosis.

The first film I would attend was OLDBOY, something not at all new to me, but one of my most anticipated screenings of the festival because it would be the first time to see it on a very larger screen with a very capable sound system and it would be the first time to see Choi Min Sik, in person, as participated in a Q & A for afterwards, this being the first of 4 films he is scheduled to do that for.

Previously, I’d seen the film in it’s first theater run at the Angelika Film Center, meaning a much smaller screen and their infamous background subway car rumbles, that at least back then, would roar right over the delicate sounds of many a film. And of course there have been many at-home viewings with the obvious shortcomings - the film maintains its grit when shown in 35 mm. This, I believe, is the movie’s 1st retrospective screening and it was wonderful seeing the film in this setting. The score, a combination of mournful trumpet solos and sweeping symphonic pieces, soared. Shots that, when frozen as a single frame, are filled with a palpable tension -- the three figures standing in the elevator, Oh Dae-su’s emergence from the building of his confinement, Min-woo awkwardly flexing the toy wings -- were all given justice here.

Aside from the intricately woven plot, other aspects of the film stood out. The always interesting way that director Chan-Wook Park chooses to express a certain feeling or idea, for instance. Min Woo’s passing of an early adulthood filled with loneliness is captured as she discusses visions of ants with Oh Dae-su and we see a vision of her riding an empty car of a subway with a human-sized insect shuffling towards an empty seat further down the car. Already familiar with the story’s plot and its vicious twists, My attention was held more towards the film’s offering of the possibility that one might be able to wipe a slate clean, to experience horrible things and bury them with the help of something like hypnotic suggestion, or even the passing of time. The final scene where a hypnotist, yielding to Dae-su’s written appeal, uses hypnotic suggestion to wipe away his knowledge of antagonist Woo-jin’s trap, takes place in a snow filled expanse. It is a beautiful blanket of calm to behold after the nerve wracking tale that comes before.

After the movie, Choi Min-Sik spoke freely to some of the more pressing questions around the film. He explained that the open-ended nature of the script, with the possibility that Oh Dae-su’s mind may or may not have been truly wiped clean, is what attracted him to the role. He also spoke on the infamous live octopus-eating scene. It required three takes, one of the problems being that the first octopus used was too close to death and needed to be manipulated with chopsticks to create the illusion of a struggle. Another enlightening topic of discussion was the level of improvisation that comes into his films. In OLDBOY, the scene where Oh Dae-su pleads with Woo-jin to spare Min Woo the knowledge of their true relationship, the chanting of their high school’s alma matter and barking like a dog were ideas that Min-sik conceived of during a take.

After a much needed break, I returned to the theater for a historic screening of FIVE FINGERS OF DEATH (THE KING BOXER) directed in 1972 by Chung Chang-Wha, a Korean director working for the Shaw Brothers Hong Kong studio. The appreciative director was presented with an achievement award and painting in his honor. The film gives a look at classic action, filled with nervy characters, all jaws jutting out and smirks worn proudly on faces. Action scenes have fast grounded movements and some exciting early innovations: characters crashing through walls and leaping from up high to strike down on opponents led to enthusiastic responses. This is set to a blistering score, assembled from other 70’s movies of the time, and referenced widely throughout Tarantino’s Kill Bill franchise. During the Q & A, the director spoke politely and succinctly about the film’s place in action cinema’s history and the challenges of being an outsider working in a Chinese studio system (Db elaborates more fully here and pictures galore, provided by Mr. C and Chocko are right here).

Another very brief break followed before it was time to get in place for the festival’s first screening of NAMELESS GANGSTER. This would be Choi Min-sik’s second appearance of the day, but it being for a new movie and in the evening, attracted a much larger crowd. It is a highly accomplished film that I need a second viewing of, as it has its fair share of culture-specific complexities. It calls to mind strong crime-related movies that put plot within the frame of political and societal goings ons of a particular time of place. At its center is a family man who, rather than being the archetype of reluctant gangster, is overanxious to play the part. Enter another groundbreaking and powerful performance by Choi Min-Sik. His character's ascent (or descent) into the lifestyle occurs as a result of a relationship that is particular to Korean culture, called daebu, which he has with an established crook of the same ancestral clan. As Choi (the character was purposely given the same name as the highly regarded actor who he is portrayed by) is the younger gangster’s father's “brother” in terms of age and family name, he is owed respect by the more formidable criminal. An intriguing and tense back and forth ensues between the two. The final encounter between them is electric. The younger gangster is played by Jung-woo Ha, an actor whose performances only get better, perhaps known most in these parts for his roles as reluctant assassin and inscrutable serial killer in Ha Hong-jin’s THE YELLOW SEA and THE CHASER respectively. It becomes another instance of Min-sik bringing the best out of his fellow actor and creating a dynamic performance together.

It’s been documented in earlier posts, by Db in writing and Mr. C with several photos, how generous Choi Min-Sik has been with his time and attention to greeting and signing things for fans. This extended into the late hours of the night (The NAMELESS GANGSTER screening and Q & A kept on until within a few minutes of the midnight movie’s start time. During the Q & A too, he presented himself with graciousness and good will, expressing gratitude for being at the festival and his feeling that acting gives him a chance to make friends and connections with others around the world. A finer example of humbleness and positivity in a celebrity would be hard to identify.

I stayed for the midnight movie from Japan, GOKE, BODY SNATCHER FROM HELL. It was less mind melting than BOXER’S OMEN shown the night before, but few things can match that. With a Twilight Zone-ish premise and atmosphere, it served as a near precursor to LOST, hurling the passengers and crew of a flight into stranded territory to survive, argue, and form hesitant alliances as they are bombarded by suicidal crows, rock slides, and a parasitic entity that oozes forth from one’s skull in a slick silver metallic color. The passengers consist of a deliciously loaded deck of volatile characters: a politician along with his righthand man, a psychologist (important because at some point he will try to hypnotize a traumatized stewardess into finding out the whereabouts of a violent, possessed crew member), an American widow of a deceased soldier, and a guy who may or may not be carrying a bomb because life is boring. Then there is a creepy evil guy whose intentions are unclear, but definitely pulls off a sinister look, before he becomes the first to be possessed by evil forces. The ruptured, bleeding forehead that marks his transformation is like a very early Cronenberg exercise in body horror. Meanwhile some tripped out light effects again score a point for old school ingenuity in our age of overwrought but soulless special effects.

Today was a day of rest. Tomorrow’s agenda reads like Choi Min Sik plus one. First up is a drama from Taiwan, MAKE UP, followed by FAILAN with Choi Min-Sik on hand to discuss it. Then, after a break, I will be back in the theater to see Choi Min-Sik’s boxing film CRYING FIST, where he will again be on hand for a Q & A.

Me on Twitter = @mondocurry

Mule vs. Crocodile: New York Asian Film Festival 2012 day 1

Last night was the opening night of the 12th, New York Asian Film Festival, digging its foothold even deeper into Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade Theater, with no signs of going anywhere.  I arrived for the 2nd movie on the slate, VULGARIA, and it affirmed that the guys running this thing know exactly how to pick a kick off movie.  It’s all about celebration, cheers, and rallying a crowd into something somewhere beyond passive spectator mode.

Last night’s was a different feel than the year before and perhaps some others as well, in that it was less a gala affair, with extremely talented but decidedly on the fringe director Pang Ho-Cheung (who was largely responsible for VULGARIA) in the guest spot. No throngs of photographers or seat filling entourages were on hand (this is perhaps something reserved for the Star New Asia award presentation, which this year, will take place on) but it only served to make the event more about the people in the audience.  

What exactly made VULGARIA such a prime opening night feature was its combination of outlandishness, flouting of the rules (whichever ones there still are, this definitely flies in the face of them), and very clever humor.  There is the appeal, first of all, of the movie within a movie idea, as we follow an account of a b-level producer’s harrowing experiences as he tries to make a movie from hell.  Different elements conspire together to make it one of the most shockingly offensive productions imaginable, even more so (though not necessarily by all that much) than the film it is set within.  Also a great deal of fun is the framing device of the producer lecturing a group of university students, whose vantage point easily coincides with us in the audience.  The cynical students often interrupt the account of things to ask question and express disbelief that would channel our own states of mind.  One fantastic instance of this is a  terse request for him to get off the subject of his personal life and confirm the far more provocative details of a sexual encounter with a mule, which may or may not have happened.

There is similar gross-out humor, calling out local cuisines and creative sexual acts.  More humorous to me was the abundance of wordplay and dialogue based humor.  There is a hilarious exchange between the producer and workers rights representative called in to take him to task when his words are taken vastly out of context.  There is also great societal humor, some of it that would probably benefit from the insight of a native speaker, and many references alluding to and poking fun at the film industry.  Whether it was intended to be or not, I found it a riot to hear ‘Lord of the Rings’ (i think it was that) and ‘Infernal Affairs’ (playing NYAFF a few days later!) referred to in the same breath as examples of major cinematic works.  The film is also gives testament to the power of social media.  Yet, along with all these ideas and the baudy humor, it is at its heart a sympathetic look at the so called ‘losers’ at the margins of society and their struggles to do what they do and still be connected to those they love.  It is a winning combination of ideas and sentiment presented in a frenetic in your face style.

The movie was followed by a q & a with the audience, hosted by the welcome presence of festival figurehead Grady Hendrix.  Cheung spoke largely about the even more incredible fact that most of the situations depicted in the film mirror real life instances.  We also learned that this was produced entirely by Cheung.  He showed a wit in his exchanges with the audience, making me regret taking a break from screenings today when they’ll be showing a series of his earliest home movies (packaged under the title Pang-Ho Cheung’s First Attempt) while he does live commentary in the theater.  I look forward to Db’s report on that.  The last thing they spoke of, as if in answer to Db’s late night appeal, is that VULGARIA has earned a US release by China Lion in the not too distant future!

Moving forward about an hour, after a few beers and chats in the lobby area, and we come to the monstrosity of WTF that was Shaw Brothers classic BOXER’S OMEN.  As opposed to the constant guffaws that come from hyperactively charged wackiness and bad acting, this was a slow slog through mind melting insanity.  What happened is not entirely clear to me.  It involved two fighters in a boxing ring, one being from Thailand, who competed until the Thai fighter claimed victory through some questionable means.  Enter Thailand, a quest for revenge, a transformation into a monk, and a back and forth battle taking place in one black (possibly on another plane of existence) room involving sorcery, demonically possessed wildlife, disembodied heads and appendages, and LOTS of regurgitation of food.  Meanwhile, scenes of more boxing back in China.  This film serves as a reminder that you can not spend enough money or develop effects technologically advanced enough to come anywhere near to touching the disgust and fascination evoked by these low budget, twisted, and supremely imaginative effects and disregard for good taste.  Highlights include a head that turns green, hovers above a levitating monk, and shoots down organ-like strands of flesh to wrap around his head and upper body.  Later, a crocodile is turned over, cut open, disemboweled, before a zombified woman is lowered inside of it, sealed, and taken out covered with all manner of crawling beasties. This is all interspersed with shamanistic chanting. I’m not sure that, if shown in the proper fashion, the film will in fact incure the wrath of some malevolent spirit.

Thank you New York Asian Film Festival, for a memorable opening night!

On today’s docket: Welcome Choi Min-Sik with screenings of OLDBOY and latest NAMELESS GANGSTER, both of which he will attend, martial arts classic Five Fingers of Death which director Chung Chang-Wha will attend, and tonight’s late night contender, GOKE, BODY SNATCHER FROM HELL!

Far More Than Just an Empty Shell: Scabbard Samurai @ New York Asian Film Festival 2012 Japan Cuts 2012

Some years back I watched Matsumoto Hitoshi’s Dainipponjin to some degree of disappointment.  A mockumentary about a washed up and hopelessly failing kaiju (giant monster) hero, I found it to be a very clever idea.  But it banged out the same note rather repetitively, making me feel trapped by an overbearing cynicism.


Two films later, Hitoshi‘s latest work has caught me off guard with an amazingly disarming sincerity.  I watched in delight as a slight yet amusing version of a fairy tale transformed into something far more profound and emotionally rich right before my eyes.  

The movie’s premise is a simple one.  During the Edo period, a disgraced samurai, wanted for deserting his post, is captured by a feudal lord with a rather unconventional condition for his prisoners:  get his sorrowful son to crack a smile within 30 days, or commit ritual suicide upon failure to do so.  It is up to the ‘scabbard samurai,’ named so for his cowardly reputation as a harmless shell of a warrior, to find a way to thaw the prince’s iced over heart and also earn back the respect of his hard nosed daughter and travelling companion, Tae.

As Matsumoto chronicles one attempt at evoking laughter after the next after the next, we can see his penchant for oversized fantastical set pieces at work.  Between out and out ridiculous slapstick efforts are giant cannons firing out the samurai himself off an expansive beach coast, a wood-and-iron mechanical contraption that launches human fireworks skyward, and a massive pinwheel.  

As the woeful samurai’s number of remaining attempts dwindles down to zero, expectations of the usual variety are probably occurring in the audience’s mind.  And then, with but a small fraction of its running time remaining, Matsumoto pulls out a halting cinematic trick by bringing about a total shift in tone that is both jarring and wonderful. It is a messy, seemingly counterintuitive move that finds the movie with its heart splayed out all over its sleeve.  All cynicism is melted away and I will admit to feeling no less than stunned in its wake.    

After fully absorbing the impact of its sheer sincerity, one can appreciate Scabbard Samurai on some more subtle levels. Recalling my own reaction to this director’s first feature as ‘one note,’ I found myself looking again at the 30 day trial.  The same concept is shown repeatedly, with slight variations, followed each time by a bellowing insistence for the failed entertainer to commit ritual suicide. Could Matsumoto be cleverly referencing his own artistic path with the final act of Scabbard Samurai representing a new, soul baring, and all the more riskier for it, direction he is embarking on...starting within this very movie?  

It is interesting, as well, to see a common theme appear throughout Matsumoto’s slowly growing body of work.  Like in Dainipponjin, this film’s central character is visibly aging and weary of the pace of the world that whirl past him.  Takaaki Nomi’s lead performance is a subtle bit of magic as he wordlessly imparts inspiration, determination, and feeling resigned to failure through body language and facial expressions.  Look him up on IMDB and you will find one of the shortest profiles of a lead actor around.  Apparently, Matsumoto discovered him in the audience of a tv show taping and found a way to get him into this film with him knowing he was the lead until after shooting was finished.  It calls to mind the tendency of stateside comedy outcasts Tim and Eric to cast nonprofessional actors with refreshingly unpolished looks and mannerisms, like Richard Dunn, in their productions.    

Scabbard Samurai, with its coiled up surprise, is a perfect film festival movie.  It will have audiences turning to each other and sharing a moment; not the knowing, winking sort but one of having experienced something that boldly lays sentiment on the line. 

SCABBARD SAMURAI IS BEING SCREENED ON FRIDAY, JULY 6 AT THE WALTER READE THEATER OF LINCOLN CENTER AND SATURDAY, JULY 14 AT THE JAPAN SOCIETY


VISIT THE SUBWAY CINEMA AND JAPAN CUTS WEBSITES FOR DETAILS.


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