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I_Ailurophile
Reviews
Taiyô no ôji: Horusu no daibôken (1968)
Overall just swell, with a fine finish - if also regrettably uneven, with a weak start
It's interesting to read of the history of this production, not just discovering who was involved in making it - most notably Miyazaki Hayao, some time before he would rise to international acclaim - but of whence screenwriter Fukazawa Kazuo drew inspiration. Strictly speaking the animation may not be as sharp and impressive as in anime to come in all the subsequent years, but the same could be said of almost any realm in which techniques and technology continue to develop over time. And even at that there's much to love in these eighty-two minutes, and capture the imagination. I'm certainly not saying that 'The great adventure of Horus, prince of the sun,' also known as 'The little Norse prince,' is something that completely demands viewership, but when you get down to it it's well made and enjoyable on its own merits - warts and all - and that's all it needs to be.
If not so outwardly striking more than fifty years on, the animation is nevertheless given to some nice detail throughout, and some aspects are especially brilliant. Backgrounds and environments are gorgeous, fleshed out with attention to lighting, shading, color, and texture, and are a real treat to anchor our viewership. Active elements are perhaps a tad more variable, as human (or humanoid) figures in particular tend to be realized with less detail. Yet other minutiae, including tools and weapons, various set pieces, environmental disturbances (e.g., shifting sand, rock slides, or roiling water), and above all animals and creatures, commonly benefit from the same level of care as the settings, and likewise discrete effects that present. It's still true that the animation doesn't routinely leap out at us all these years later, but all the same there's much to appreciate, and at its worst it's still suitable overall.
The writing is a matter requiring more thorough discussion. At first blush the pacing is kind of stilted and brusque, and plot development curt and forced. For whatever detail we can say there is in the animation, the narrative and scene writing do not always benefit from the same considerations; the storytelling is sometimes simplified and straightforward, lacking nuance beyond the basic notions. Similarly, the dialogue is often reduced to its most basic ideas, and with all this in mind, the picture possibly even suffers from some tonal issues. In fairness, though, I'm inclined to believe that all this isn't a reflection on Fukuzawa himself, but on the limitations he faced in trying to pen a cohesive tale. Given time, resources, and the opportunity to do more, I trust that the man would serve up a more roundly satisfying screenplay. Emphasizing the point, we do ultimately get the saga of fantasy and adventure we came for - uneven as the presentation may be, the story is duly absorbing and compelling, with some excellent ideas. Furthermore, the troubles we first discern noticeably diminish as the length draws on, and we do see improvement. In both the writing and the animation, the film very much builds strength over time.
I wish only that the entirety were as uniformly strong as the extant work is in bits and pieces, and mostly in the latter half. The movie makes a surprisingly solid final impression, and it's so unfortunate that the first impression it makes is significantly weaker. However, flawed as it may be, the sum total is still entertaining and engaging. This extends as well to Mamiya Michio's score; though itself not wholly remarkable, it is nice complement at large, and both the lighter and the more dramatic themes somewhat recall those of other adventure fare, such as what Basil Poledouris composed for Dino De Laurentiis' 'Conan' flicks of the 80s. The feature has distinct problems, but the visuals are generally quite fine, the plot is generally swell, and more than not it's ably made. Again, just as some facets are more concretely deserving of criticism, others are unexpectedly superb. All told the viewing experience has regrettable ups and downs, but I had a good time watching, and for something light and passingly fun, there are far worse ways to spend one's time. I wouldn't mind seeing an updated, more full-fledged and mindful rendition, yet when all is said and done 'The great adventure of Horus, prince of the sun' remains worthy of its own accord. One hardly needs to go out of their way for it, but if you come across it and you don't mind the imperfections then it holds up reasonably well and is worth checking out.
Neko atsume no ie (2017)
A charming, sweet little nothing of, by, and for cat lovers
On the one hand, as an ailurophile, I was positively delighted when I discovered this movie existed. On the other hand, as a cinephile, I had mixed expectations, for I couldn't imagine that the concept could be fleshed out into a particularly hearty movie. Then again, I utterly adored the 2014 film 'Neko samurai' - an atypical, lighthearted, but nevertheless meaningful jidaigeki - and as writer Nagamori Yuji was also behind that gem, 'Neko atsume house,' or 'Cat collection's house,' had a concrete point in its favor beyond its felines. To sit and watch this 2017 flick based on a popular mobile videogame, I don't think anyone could have any illusions about its nature as a frivolous bit of whimsy. In fairness, however, isn't this one of the reasons that audiences flock to the medium in the first place? Not every motion picture needs to be a revelation of artistry and storytelling to entice, and this one knows exactly what it is. If you're looking for something light, silly, and fun, and especially if you love cats like I do, it's hard to go wrong with this!
The admiration of the superior species readily shines through in these ninety-two minutes not just in the sheer number of their representatives to appear herein, but in how the writing speaks to all that there is to appreciate about them. Cats' behaviors, their personalities, what attracts them, how people relate to them and interact with them, and so on are all the core focus here. As protagonist Sakumoto becomes obsessed with the strays popping around his rental and learns about Felis catus, and starts taking endless photos of them, those viewers who also cherish cats will feel a blast of memories and fall in love all over again. Yes, there is also a specific narrative here about a writer experiencing writer's block, his professional relationship with his editor, and a budding friendship with a local woman who works at a pet shop. But 'Neko atsume house' is nothing if not a love letter to the simple pleasure of living with cats, and observing them, and it has no specific need to be anything more. The fact that there is a modicum of substance otherwise is just a bonus.
The actors give earnest performances befitting the softly heartfelt emotional tenor of the proceedings, with supporting cast members Kutsuna Shioli and even Kimura Tae lighting up the screen alongside the bewitched charm Ito Atsushi carries with him as Sakumoto. The original music of Paisley 8, gentle and soothing, is the perfect complement for such a relaxing, refreshing fluff piece, and Yasuda Kei's cinematography is rich and vivid in capturing every moment, whether the antics of the cats and the many details in their personages, or the goings-on of the people in the feature. All this is surely a credit as well to director Kurakata Masatoshi - to say nothing of the absolute patience it must have taken to wrangle the cats for the camera. From top to bottom it's plainly evident how much care and passion went into the title, and that feeling is fully passed on to the audience. Granted, there's not so much going on here that it is likely to majorly appeal to all comers, but for anyone seeking something by which to unwind and decompress, I can hardly think of anything better.
And all loftier considerations and scrutiny are kind of beside the point, anyway: treasuring felines as much as I do, I could scarcely contain myself all throughout the film. I was buzzing with enthusiasm, the smile would not vanish from my face, and I have rarely felt so healthy as I did while watching. This, above all else, is the core of 'Neko atsume house.' It's a movie of, by, and for ailurophiles, and arguably niche though the target audience may be, the result is a joy precisely as it is. With touches of humor and romance filling out the edges, and gratifyingly declining the heavy drama that some kindred works may favor, I couldn't be happier with just how warm and enjoyable this is from beginning to end. "Stop and play with cats" is a nice fauna-centric alternative to "stop and smell the roses," and sometimes a sweet little nothing is just what is called for. With all this well in mind I'm pleased to give 'Neko atsume house' my glad recommendation, for this is the perfect picture with which to end one's day.
Karami-ai (1962)
Marvelously shrewd and deliciously fun, a greatly underappreciated gem
I don't envy Kobayashi Masaki. Having made some utterly stellar films in his career, his other works will necessarily be judged against them, at least in part. Thankfully, though, 1962's 'The inheritance' plainly demonstrates what a strong filmmaker the man was even outside of his most celebrated pictures. The premise isn't so outwardly striking, yet the drama is increasingly fierce, taking on significant airs of film-noir; as dying wealthy businessman Kawara Senzo prepares his will and seeks his illegitimate children, schemes upon schemes take root and all involved parties reveal their true selves. In no time the viewing experience becomes deeply absorbing and outright fascinating, and even if it's not an outright revelation in the same manner as 'Harakiri' or 'Samurai rebellion,' ultimately I'd have no qualms in naming this as one of Kobayashi's resounding successes.
Working from Nanjo Norio's novel, screenwriter Inagaki Koichi penned an outstanding screenplay that's rich and downright intoxicating from top to bottom. However characters might first present they show themselves to be not just complex and vibrant as written but roundly, willfully scurrilous in their own ways, usually while adopting a thin facade of innocence or propriety. Each in and of themselves is so interesting that this rather becomes worth watching just for them, and that's to say nothing of the rest of the writing, equally flush with ingenious subtlety as events progress. The dialogue is stark and biting, driving to the core of the characterizations and the plot, and each scene in turn bears a wondrous vitality with deliciously thick, underhanded tension and cutting intelligence. The narrative itself is so brilliant and spellbinding that this became another relatively rare instance of a movie I could not tear my eyes away from - and though it's mostly just on account of how raptly compelling the saga is in its own right, the precise fashion in which information comes out and events unfold is a masterstroke that left me giddily smiling again and again.
All this is very much a credit as well to the cast. Splendid nuance in the acting belies the cold shrewdness and less sure-footed emotions at play, a tactfulness expressiveness that feeds directly into the deceit and trickery on hand in the plot. It hardly even seems fair to highlight some stars over others, though Kishi Keiko is terrific in the lead role of Yasuko (I couldn't help but cheer her at a small moment in the last minutes), and even as Yamamura So's part as Kawara is more restrictive he commands imposing presence and temperament. This is to say nothing of Watanabe Misako, Nakadai Tatsuya, Yoshimura Mari, Miyaguchia Seiji, Chiaki Minoru, or the many others on hand. As Kobayasha guides his actors and shapes the whole as director, he sustains a ferocious energy that builds alongside the story, a sort of intensity that draws us in all the more. His jidaigeki of the 60s in particular thoroughly accentuated the patient mindfulness that Kobayashi bore as a filmmaker, letting pressure grow until the ideal psychological moment for the feature to explode - and though 'The inheritance' isn't so grandiose, the outcome is pretty much just as invigorating.
Composer extraordinaire Takemitsu Toru lends a marvelously flavorful score that meshes neatly with the seedy goings-on of the story, and I can scarcely imagine this without that music. Everything else here is really just as fantastic, from the costume design, hair, and makeup, to the sets, to Kawamata Takashi's smart cinematography and Uraoka Keiichi's keen editing. It's Inagaki's script that really shines here, however, hand in hand with the acting and Kobayashi's direction, and one way or another the end result is a title that's as darkly entertaining as it is tremendously engrossing. As I go through Kobayashi's oeuvre it's safe to say that I have high expectations, and though not all his productions are equal, I'm firmly of the mind that this is altogether excellent and easily counts among his best. Whether one has a specific reason to watch or is just looking for something good to watch, I can hardly recommend 'The inheritance' any more highly. As an avid cinephile this was simply a joy, and this is one picture that's well worth seeking out!
Daimajin gyakushû (1966)
Overall enjoyable, though maybe not as strong as it could have been
The first film, released in April 1966, was a fun blend of fantasy and horror, even though it was hampered a bit by soft pacing. The second film, following four months later, was just as sharply crafted but did not suffer from the same pacing issues, and moreover told such a compelling story that the titular entity was almost altogether unnecessary. With new director Mori Kazuo now taking over to helm the same returning crew for the last of Daiei Film's trilogy, I've very much been looking forward to 'Wrath of Daimajin' - though the question still stands of how it would compare.
The good news is that in general, though we may debate the finer points, all three pictures having effectively been made contemporaneously means that we are assured of the same broad quality and common traits. If you enjoyed 'Daimajin' and 'The return of Daimajin,' you'll likely also enjoy this conclusion to one degree or another, and much that is true for the predecessors is also true for this feature. Beautiful filming locations are one thing, but outstanding detail was poured into most every facet of the production. The sets are utterly gorgeous, and even the costume design, hair, and makeup received substantial care. The proliferate practical effects and stunts are all terrific and exciting, and the action to come. Composer Ifukube Akira provides a swell dramatic score that lends to the somber airs of the proceedings; the cinematography is vivid, and the sound design impeccable.
On the other hand, this title bears the distinction of largely centering children as its protagonists. While it's not universally the case, the simple fact of the matter is that elevating children in a movie very commonly diminishes its seriousness: kids must almost always be cute, their acting skills are quite plainly variable, and if they appear to be in too much danger then a stark new level of violence is inherently breached. Even as the same overall plot structure holds of Daimajin defeating the cruel villains who harm innocents, significant airs manifest in part of an adventure piece more or less suitable for younger audiences. As returning writer Yoshida Tetsuro splits his narrative and scenes with emphasis on those youths, the urgency of the scenario takes a hit. In turn, and in its own way, 'Wrath of Daimajin' again comes across as somewhat struggling with weak pacing - in all earnestness the viewing experience is less actively engaging; the effects-laden climax, which should be and surely is the top highlight, feels overlong.
Please understand, this flick remains enjoyable and worthwhile on its own merits. It's solidly crafted, there are nice little touches throughout, and the root story ideas offer firm foundation. At large the acting is commendable, and the direction, and it's also worth observing that in no small part this installment carries the vibe of tragedy - an interesting distinguishing factor. Nevertheless, an uneven tone, slow plot development, and decidedly less focused storytelling result in a fantasy drama that has a harder time holding our attention than the progenitor, let alone the vibrant first sequel. We get what we came for; the anticipated saga just isn't as strong as it could have been. Even so I had a good time watching, and so long as you don't mind the imperfections too much, 'Wrath of Daimajin' is still a fine slice of entertainment for a lazy day, and a decent finale for Daiei's trilogy.
Daimajin ikaru (1966)
Sharply crafted, this blend of action-drama and fantasy holds up astonishingly well
Released in April 1966, soft pacing was the only particular issue holding back the blend of fantasy and horror that was 'Daimajin.' I quite enjoyed it, and I've been looking forward to finishing Daiei's trilogy. While notably bearing a similar broad plot structure - a forlorn people appeal to Daimajin to save them from the cruel warlords who run roughshod over their land - this is no inherent mark against this sequel of a few months later. Thankfully, moreover, I think 'The return of Daimajin' does not struggle with the same pacing that hampered its predecessor, and the plot moves steadily within the diminutive runtime of seventy-nine minutes. With all this in mind we get more of that fantasy we want in a rich period setting, over top of an unexpectedly engrossing story, and the result is a really great time!
Alongside some beautiful filming locations, every element of the picture is filled with outstanding detail: gorgeous sets, terrific costume design, and lovely hair and makeup; smart and enticing lighting, vivid cinematography, and impeccable sound design; superb stunts, practical effects, and action sequences. Special effects are very judiciously and mindfully employed, and therefore look better than they have any right to. Writer Yoshida Tetsuro gives us a screenplay of a splendidly compelling plot and earnestly gripping, flavorful scenes; Misumi Kenji's direction sustains undeniable vibrant energy and tension as the minutes tick by. The cast give strong performances of able nuance and emotional depth befitting the substantial drama that underlies the jidaigeki roots and the fantasy overtones. Composer Ifukube Akira provides a robust, stirring score, in some measure recalling the thunderous chords of his most famous work in the Godzilla franchise, that deftly complements the proceedings at any time.
From top to bottom, the movie is far more skillfully made than one might suppose of something that lacks the same visibility as some other contemporary fare - and really, maybe altogether more skillfully made than some such fare. And with all this well in mind, it doesn't even matter that the titular being has a fairly small presence in his own film. While very sparingly playing a part in the saga throughout, we don't specifically see Daimajin until we're within the last twenty minutes. Be that as it may, the action is so exciting, and the drama so raptly absorbing - and decidedly dark - that it was almost unnecessary for the entity to be involved at all. If that doesn't speak to how marvelously solid 'The return of Daimajin' is, then I don't know what does, and in all honesty I think this sequel actually happens to be superior to its forebear. Free of the same single shortcoming, and just as carefully crafted in every regard if not more so, this is genuinely fantastic!
The practical effects of yesteryear will always be preferable and almost always look better than the most state-of-the-art computer generated imagery, and so this flick holds up astonishingly well. I assumed I'd enjoy it, but I'm positively thrilled with just how good it turned out to be, with nice little touches all throughout even to the end. As a matter of personal preferences it won't appeal to all, but I very much like 'The return of Daimajin' and I'm pleased to give it my very high recommendation!
Kagi-dorobô no mesoddo (2012)
Tremendous wit & potential. None of the vitality to make it count.
There are some aspects of films that we tend not to notice unless they're specifically strong or specifically weak. Pacing goes unnoticed unless it's too swift or too slow; tone goes unnoticed unless it's too charged or too soft; and so on. Though I recognize that it is regarded well, I regret to say that I find 'Key of life' to be a title that struggles with both pacing and tone, as they are notably dull. It's a bit of a wry dark comedy, yes, so such sensibilities may theoretically work in its favor, yet even at that the situational humor requires timing and energy, and this picture has neither. I see the wit in Uchida Kenji's screenplay and the vitality that's waiting to be drawn out from the performances. With rare exception that vitality is kept endlessly waiting, however, without a chance to flourish, and all the brimming potential of the screenplay is like air being blown into a balloon that will not inflate without the right technique - or in this case, the precise necessary spark in the direction.
So for all the skill I recognize in stars Sakai Masato, Kagawa Teruyuki, and Hirosue Ryoko, neither they nor their co-stars especially get a chance to demonstrate it. The clever plot and scene writing, and keen dialogue and characterizations, are not given the wings that they need to be able to fly. Those operating behind the scenes turned in fine work, and Uchida's direction is capable in the most fundamental terms of orchestrating shots and scenes. But even with some livelier or smarter moments scattered throughout, and certainly more so in the back end as events come to a head, as it presents the feature has been robbed of far, far too much of its strength. Did I laugh once throughout these two hours? Did this ever earn more than a warm smile? Well, yes - once, more than 80 minutes in.
I don't dislike 'Key of life.' Yet if I say that I like it, that feels a step too far. Under these circumstances it feels overlong well before it's over. How could a movie so neatly primed for success, with some sequences that are particularly ingenious, fail so hard to make a mark? It all comes down to pacing and tone. Bereft of the zest that would allow the narrative or its comedy to land, the viewing experience is flat, unimpressive, and almost altogether tedious. I see what it could have been, and it's not bad. Such verbiage, however, is not what recommendations are made of.
Donzoko (1957)
It's a fine film. I just don't think it succeeds on the level it wanted to.
Even the greatest of directors have their off days, yet as Kurosawa Akira amply proved again and again throughout his career, one should well commonly expect only the best from him. 'The lower depths' isn't one of his most well-known works, so how might it hold up decades later? Truthfully, I think it's a fine film - but surely not one of the man's best. I detect the same issue here that we would see several years later with 'Dodes'ka-den': for all the skill and intelligence that Kurosawa bore as a filmmaker and storyteller, his strength was in titles where characters and threads pointedly converged in a singular, focused, distinct narrative. Just as his 1970 picture was a broad portraiture of a time and place and the people who lived in it, this 1957 picture gives us multiple characters and ideas in a time and place, and though there is a discrete plot it's at least as true if not more so that we're seeing a tableau rendered before us, a moment captured for posterity with emphatic intent behind it. It's duly worthy on its own merits, but it's not specifically striking, and I don't think there's as much for viewers to grasp onto here as there is elsewhere in Kurosawa's oeuvre.
It feels a little strange even thinking that last sentence; after all, one need not be at all familiar with Maxim Gorky's play to discern the origins of 'The lower depths' on the stage. All takes place within or around a limited setting, a cast of interesting characters all represent bigger ideas, and the core of the feature is in ruminations, comparisons, and otherwise considerations (spoken or unspoken) of philosophies, beliefs, ideals, and lifestyles. On paper there is a great deal to grasp onto. In execution there is much to admire generally. In execution it's also more difficult in cinema for material that's heavily reliant on dialogue alone to make an especial impression, and likewise for material without major, concrete sagas that progress in a particular direction. This is definitely not to say that the title isn't well made, because it is; even in just considering the writing, Kurosawa and regular collaborator Oguni Hideo did a swell job of changing the setting, laying out meaningful dialogue, and building intriguing characters and scene writing. This is to say nothing of fantastic costume design, hair, or makeup, marvelously detailed sets, or Yamasaki Kazuo's mindful, vivid cinematography. The cast also give strong performances of gratifying range, personality, and emotional depth, with iconic Mifune Toshiro, esteemed Yamada Isuzu, and prominent Kagawa Kyoko all standing out, among others.
And still, the simple fact of the matter is that the type of flick we see here just isn't Kurosawa's forte. He excelled in weaving impactful, thought-provoking themes and bigger ideas into gripping, compelling narratives and viewing experiences; it's another matter to spin a gripping, compelling narrative and viewing experience from ponderous deep thoughts that are as foremost as they are abstract. Each element in and of itself is outstanding, from the component parts of the screenplay, to the acting, to Kurosawa's direction and the fundamental orchestration of some shots and scenes. Nonetheless, I'm of the mind that the whole is lesser than the sum of its parts, for the connective tissue is lacking, the dialogue on its own is taxing to tease apart to get at the underlying notions, and all the artistry of how 'The lower depths' is shot and all the vibrancy of the actors' portrayals aren't enough in and of themselves to lend a vitality that the material itself does not summon. I see what it tried to be. I just don't believe it succeeded.
Sometimes a blast of genre spectacle carries significance and gravity far exceeding the norms of its kin; sometimes a movie built from the ground up for more monumental and intellectual things struggles to achieve that profundity. The matter is only accentuated in these two hours as some of the most grabbing, engaging scenes are those that are less about the philosophizing and more about the dynamics and interactions between the figures in the squalor of the tenements, and the rancor that results. At the same time, with imbalanced sound design (subsequently grating on the ears) and difficulty in managing storytelling tone, the overall feel here is both flat and overcharged - an ear-splitting peak in pitch that is pretty well sustained on a plateau from start to finish. The value of individual facets - the acting, the craftsmanship, fragments of the writing, and so on - is enough that 'The lower depths' remains worth watching on its own merits, and the entirety is better than not. All the same, this isn't a film I'm going to spend any time thinking on even a mere few hours from now, and as it is I wonder if I'm not being too kind in my assessment. I don't dislike this; I do think the end product just isn't substantive enough to say, do, and be what it wants. It's a fine picture - but it's not one of Kurosawa's utmost successes, and unless you have a special impetus to watch, there's no need to go out of your way for it.
Kimi no na wa. (2016)
Tremendously smart, thoughtful, and well-rounded, a treasure even better than I could have hoped
Many movies have been made about two people swapping bodies, or communicating in fantastical ways, but to be perfectly honest I doubt that there has ever been another that was as fun and truly vibrant as this one is, nor as beautiful and impactful. The broad concept is so tried and true that even as I sat to watch I wasn't specifically looking forward to it, yet as the minutes tick by 'Your name' swiftly proves itself to be full of tremendous life that vast swaths of all of cinema can only dream of. There's plenty of humor and pure entertainment, but the picture is also lovely, earnest, and heartfelt in a fashion that isn't commonly true of the niche genre, nor of many other pictures at large. It's incredibly rich, meaningful, and refreshing, and whether you're a fan of anime or just looking for a good movie, it would be a terrible mistake to pass up the opportunity to watch. If this isn't a must-see, I don't know what is.
More of this can be credited to J-rock band Radwimps than I would have imagined as they provide the music for the feature. From the most ebullient songs and themes that employ electric guitars, piano, and/or percussion, to dreamily atmospheric and ambient phrases, to the occasional more conventional chords of stirring strings, the group demonstrates not just great versatility in their skill set, but a stupendously keen sense for storytelling and emotional heft. Indeed, the music is such an essential complement to the narrative that, like Howard Shore's score for Peter Jackson's 'Lord of the rings' trilogy, or John Williams' accompaniment for 'Star Wars' or 'Indiana Jones,' it's impossible to imagine 'Your name' without Radwimps' stellar, flavorful contribution.
That music lends so much to Shinkai Makoto's film as it is in turn funny, heartwarming, heavily dramatic and rousing, low-key thrilling, heartbreaking, thought-provoking, or even just outright silly. One can see the inspiration Shinkai has drawn from various other works of science fiction and fantasy as teens Mitsuha and Taki find themselves occupying each others' bodies when they sleep, and communicating in surprising ways; time, space, consciousness, and local traditions and folk beliefs all weave into the tale very purposefully. The plot is wonderfully absorbing, satisfying, and rewarding, with unusually smart scene writing, dialogue, and characters that are flush with personality. It's a lot that Shinkai attempts to draw together, but even as some moments feel a smidgen lesser than, or the whole occasionally a smidgen overlong, all told his writing and direction are so adept that I can't fathom describing 'Your name' as anything other than "exemplary."
Careful consideration to color and art style provide some variation in the animation among the fabulous detail, dynamic sensibilities, and smooth fluidity that characterize the visuals. From country landscapes to busy cityscapes, interiors, characters, effects, shifts in perspective, and more, the artists operating under Shinkai's guidance provide a terrific look and feel for the title. We viewers are accustomed to greatness from Japanese animation, and this is no exception; intermittently bringing three-dimensional thoughts to its two-dimensional world, the film is nevertheless more vivid and enchanting in 2D than most 3D offerings can even pretend. But isn't that always the case? As 'Your name' further benefits from excellent, expressive voice performances of real feeling and nuance I can only congratulate Kamishiraishi Mone and Kamiki Ryunosuke in particular for infusing Mitsuha and Taki with such vitality, and much the same can be said of their co-stars.
Even as the premise didn't immediately leap out at me I assumed I'd enjoy this, but in all sincerity it's far better than I could have hoped. In every capacity the feature is marked with superb intelligence, and one can easily discern how much hard work went into it from every angle. With outstanding writing, music, and animation taking the lead in these 107 minutes the result is marvelously engrossing. I've said it before elsewhere, in relation to other flicks, and I'll say it again here - major U. S. studios like Disney or Pixar can generally merely aspire to achieving the same level of resplendent animated storytelling as their Japanese counterparts routinely do. I could hardly be happier with just how great 'Your name' is, and I can only give it my very highest and heartiest recommendation. This is one anime that's well worth going out of your way to see!
Yôkai daisensô (2005)
Decent, enjoyable, but also troubled by readily identifiable issues
I very much enjoyed the 'Yokai monsters' trilogy that Daiei produced in the 60s, delightful pictures of dark fantasy in which gratifying practical effects and tangible creations reigned supreme. I readily admit to a fair amount of trepidation with the very idea of Miike Takashi tackling much the same material, for some of his works are really great, and others are sheer self-indulgence. Just as much to the point, we must necessarily question how much the sum total will make use of practical effects, and how much it will employ computer-generated imagery: I'm a firm believer that fabricated creatures, props, and sets that we could theoretically touch for ourselves are always preferable to CGI, which almost always looks worse the more we see of it, and which frequently ages poorly. How might 'The great yokai war' stand up on its own accord, or as a successor to the trilogy of almost four decades before, and how might it hold up almost two decades later?
One bit of good news is that this is thankfully an example in which Miike has largely reined in his immoderate impulses, allowing for more earnest storytelling as he adapts Aramata Hiroshi's novel alongside co-writers Sawamura Mitsuhiko and Itakura Takehiko. With a young boy centered as our protagonist it's safe to say that the feature falls broadly into a category of being family friendly, as its predecessors were - though with the dark fantasy ramped up to intermittently reflect outright horror and suggest heavy violence, it's "family-friendly" in the same way as, say, 1985's 'Return to Oz' was. We still get entire scenes or small moments that indubitably bear the mark of the director's mind for style and intemperance, but I think Miike is at his best when his creativity is grounded with a robust narrative, and that is the case here. It's hardly that the film is specifically remarkable, for it plays in a familiar space of a young kid embarking on a journey that will ultimately mean saving the world from evil, and in turn rising to the challenge of going from a zero to a hero. Nevertheless, the story is duly compelling with meaningful and admirable themes, the scene writing is flavorful, and the foundation is ably laid for an entertaining genre romp in which all other contributors can joyfully let loose and exercise their craft.
Those other contributors absolutely include all those who worked on the visuals of 'The great yokai war,' arguably the most important element of the entire production. Working from mythology and folklore, and a plot that pits traditional values and the natural world against industry and modernization, I don't think it's unreasonable to suppose that a preponderance of all resources here were put towards the look and feel of the title. Costume designers, hair and makeup artists, carpenters and set decorators, the prop department, stunt people, and all those who whipped up both the practical effects and creatures and the digital wizardry fashioned some terrific, eye-catching, often gnarly designs and all worked hard devise the most tantalizing, satisfying viewing experience they could. I mean no particular disrespect to any of them when I say that the results are variable. As expected, the CGI is fantastic in concept, and fantastic when seen in passing - though grows troubled the more it's relied upon; this absolutely includes green screens. Some props, puppets, and costumes received more attention than others, with varying levels of detail, and it shows. I think the visuals are a mixed bag as they blend the real and the digital, but they're better than not; I wish only that all had been approached with equal care, for the irregular disparity is noticeable.
Much the same verbiage can be extended to other facets. The cast are to be commended as they embrace the spirit of the proceedings, and give spirited performances in turn, though individual actors may not stand out so much, or if they do, it's just on account of their prominence. As the predominant face of the antagonist forces Kuriyama Chiaki is clearly reveling in her part (admittedly, I'm a fan anyway); Takahashi Mai, appearing as one of the most prevalent yokai, has more of an opportunity to demonstrate her acting skills, and capably does so; young Kamiki Ryunosuke, only 12 years old when this was released, ably meets the demands that his role and the CGI make of him. Endo Koji's original music is suitable complement for the saga, though sometimes feels halfhearted and middling. Some tidbits of humor are surprisingly clever, and others don't much of a mark; the excitement of action sequences and otherwise would-be spectacle, and even the impact of the underlying drama, are surely diminished by the dependence on post-production falsehood (the same problem that has hounded many flicks, notably including even 'Star Wars' Episodes I-III). The editing, cinematography, sound design, and so on, all serve their purpose, but don't especially leave an impression. And likewise, perhaps, for Miike's direction.
I'm of the opinion that the picture is mostly fine overall. I also think it would have very emphatically benefited from tangible creations over digital ones; from an even measure of thought and time applied to all aspects; from more sprightly pacing, and a reduced runtime, not least within the last act; and from still more focus on the narrative and its themes over the cavalcade of dark fantasy, action, and showy pageantry. I enjoyed watching, and as a cinephile I'm glad I took the time to do so, and in general I congratulate everyone who worked on the movie. I think it also remains true that Daiei's trilogy of the 1960s were overall stronger, and remain more vibrant and deserving. Incidentally, I think Miike's penchant for extravagant excess tends to take over in the last act, and as it does, I wonder if I'm not being too generous in my assessment; there comes a point where the final stretch seems to drag on interminably, and with all sincerity, fair swaths of the length could have been majorly trimmed without losing anything. We know what the man is capable of when he's at his best, and with more restraint and mindful consideration, 'The great yokai war' might have joined that company. To one degree or another it's worth checking out on its own merits, but save it for a lazy day, and there's no need to go out of your way for it.
Samâ wôzu (2009)
Wonderfully smart and imaginative, equally entertaining and meaningful
It's not lost on me that filmmaker Hosoda Mamoru and writer Okudera Satoko are the same collaborative team who gave us 2012's 'Wolf children.' As that was, in my opinion, truly one of the greatest films I've ever seen, it's safe to say that I had high expectations when sitting to watch this. I am delighted more than I can rightfully express that, if not in the same ways, I find 'Summer wars' to be all but completely on par with its successor of three years later. I was entirely spellbound for nearly two hours, unable to tear my eyes away, for Hosoda and Okudera have given us a picture that quite genuinely tosses together a little of everything into a saga that is both funny and thrilling, dark and lighthearted, and silly and heartfelt, and deeply meaningful all the while. Dark fantasy, science fiction, and even horror adjoin romance, drama, and comedy; the global connections of the modern Internet sit beside the personal connections from one living person to another living person; baseball, card games, videogames, computer science, civil engineering, military intelligence, artificial intelligence, and more are all shrewdly wrapped together in one perfectly cogent, cohesive narrative with crucial, earnest themes that resonate like the rumble of distant thunder. It sounds like a lot, and it is - it's not wrong to reflect that 'Summer wars' is both more and less fanciful than 'Wolf children,' a film about werewolves - but there is never one iota that is superfluous or out of place. Truthfully, I think it's altogether brilliant.
In the tale Hosoda and Okudera give us, young math prodigy Kenji is a low-level administrator of the global network OZ, a one-stop digital world where people can effectively do and be everything that they do and are in real life. From shopping, sports, television, and games to home management, personal and digital security, work, and information systems, hundreds of millions of people all over the world from high school students to government officials are connected in OZ. When classmate Natsuki requests Kenji to pretend to be her fiancé on the occasion of her grandmother's ninetieth birthday, chaos ensues when the unparalleled tight security of OZ is breached. It feels important to rehash the movie's premise, because as would also be true in 'Wolf children,' all the themes and bigger underlying ideas are rather upfront and flow directly from the initial premise. Yet the sheer ingenuity of 'Summer wars' lies in how they are all woven together, and in the precise details of how the story and its themes are represented. Family, friendship, cooperation and coordinated efforts, responsibility, and resilience and determination in the face of difficult circumstances bleed into the thin ice that technologists skate in trying to develop artificial intelligence; the extreme vulnerability that comes to linking everything in life and all our lives to a realm that could theoretically be attacked from the other side of the world; the importance and necessity of maintaining real-life connections in a world that rushes to the latest online technology; and more. Just as significant in all regards, even with a very large cast of characters, every figure herein has importance in the saga, and they all have a moment to shine - a stark contrast with the vast majority of works where we're lucky to have one character, a protagonist, who is fully fleshed out and substantive. And still we're only chipping away at the feature.
In weaving the plot through both digital and physical spaces - sometimes independently, and sometimes in tandem - Hosoda and Okudera allow their imaginations to take flight. The storytelling flows smoothly and swiftly in and through far-flung vibes, and in turn the animators churned out a dazzling array of imagery and sequences to entrance us. Family drama, crime drama, thriller airs, hearty action, fantasy, science fiction, horror, sports, romance, madcap humor, family comedy, defeat and triumph, heartbreak and warmth, hard feelings and changing hearts, the unknowing destructiveness of a child who doesn't know what they wield, the simmering maliciousness of a amoral person who learns what power is at their disposal, the capabilities of unassuming persons that let them rise to meet an occasion: from the bleak and harrowing to the joyful and rousing, the narrative carries the audience through a lot, and the artists are there at every turn to bring it all to vivid, resplendent life. Inasmuch as 3D animation is employed it is always in a manner that complements the 2D animation rather than to supplant it, and one way or another we're greeted with stupendous color, rich detail and texture, and designs for every visual element that are immensely gratifying and rewarding. Between the writing, direction, and the animation, one simply cannot walk away unimpressed. Just as much to the point, while the feelings may not run as deep as they do with a more grounded comedy-drama like 'Wolf children,' the title inspires real, honest feelings that run the gamut every much as the story and its visuals. Once again, I'm just stunned.
Terrific, expressive voice acting further helps to sustain the momentous vitality of the proceedings, not to mention Matsumoto Akihiko's splendid original score, so deftly lending to the viewing experience that one often doesn't even specifically notice the music, but it's also impossible to fathom 'Summer wars' without it. Impeccable sound design and sharp editing ensure that the picture presents to us as fast, fluid, and flawless as it could. From the most simple and sincere beats to the most wild and whimsical moments, the feature takes us on an incredible ride that manages to be both far-fetched and more plausible than we may want to think, and both highly entertaining and wholeheartedly real and affecting. The result, at length, is stupendously absorbing and satisfying, a marvelously well-rounded production that wows again and again in one capacity or another, and above all in its storytelling. Hosoda and Okudera have given us an anime that far outpaces most other animated films, and I can't overstate how magnificently creative and thoughtful it is. I assumed I'd enjoy it, and still I'm fully swept away by how good it is. I can understand that as a matter of personal preference it won't appeal to all comers, yet if you're open to whatever a movie might throw at you, I cannot recommend 'Summer wars' highly enough. As far as I'm concerned this is a greatly underappreciated gem that deserves far more recognition, and if you have the opportunity to watch then it would be a terrible mistake not to take advantage!
Dopperugengâ (2003)
Wonderfully weird, creative, and smart, a vibrant and striking dark comedy
I shouldn't be surprised; this is hardly the first of the filmmaker's works that I've seen. Yet just as one is somehow astonished again and again with how in large part the oeuvre of Kurosawa Akira is one perfect film after another, I am struck again and again by how Kurosawa Kiyoshi's works mostly share the same traits of a very flat, low-key tone, often wry sensibilities, and a storytelling approach that is oddball and amorphous is not outright vague, or oblique. With this well in mind, what could possibly be more atypical of the man than to switch things up and be decidedly more overt with 'Doppelganger?' It's hardly that his other productions were carbon copies, or conversely that this does not in some fair measure share the same qualities, but the 2003 picture boasts far more liveliness, and occasionally a certain flair in how it is presented, that is uncommon for much of Kurosawa's body of work. Then again, maybe this was exactly the point given the nature of the material herein. And however we wish to judge it next to its brethren, the simple fact of the matter is that 'Doppelganger' is delightful, a smart black comedy that keeps us invested as much to see where things are going to end up as for how entertaining it is.
Increasingly dark as the length advances, the feature is also just unabashedly playful. The intermittent use of split-screen presentation accentuates the disparity between Michio and his double while simultaneously allowing more story to unfold, and even Kurosawa and Onaga Masahiro's editing is merrily sprightly. Hayashi Yusuke's sparing but tasteful and dynamic score deftly complements the mood at any time, varying between light and frivolous, moody and mysterious, and extra dramatic at points - a slightly less overcooked variation on the winking attitude that, say, pairs grandiose classical music with advertisements for cheese crackers. And while the whole cast gives unexpectedly vibrant performances, including Nagasaku Hiromi and Santamaria Yusuke, the title is also nothing if not a chance for Yakusho Koji to let loose. A frequent collaborator with Kurosawa, the dual role here allows Yakusho to show more of his range as Michio and his doppelganger carry themselves very differently, with markedly different personalities. And as the plot carries us from science fiction to offbeat humor to distinctly more grim and violent ideations, from start to finish we're taken on a peculiar, wild ride that's reliably engaging and entrancing.
Incredibly, for as fiercely intelligent and unremittingly abstruse as Kurosawa's movies have often been in their muted plot development, I'm inclined to think that of any of his projects that I've seen to date, 'Doppelganger' might be his most striking and outwardly impressive. He and co-writer Furusawa Takeshi penned a stunningly creative screenplay that shows itself more and more to be much more than first meets the eye as mercurial inventor Michio, married to his work in the worst of ways, finds himself confronted with his living mirror image. Dry, morbid, dashingly black comedy melds with touches of absurdism in building out a tale with a piercing psychological edge and earnest thriller airs as Michio and those around him are wholly transformed by their experiences. The plot takes hard turns I should have (based on the likes of 'Charisma' or 'Serpent's path') yet never would have anticipated (based on the premise, and the likes of 'Barren illusions,' 'Pulse,' or even 'Cure') and is curiously spellbinding in its imaginative, offbeat trajectory. More care went into the characterizations and dialogue than I think is too often true in cinema as they become part and parcel of communicating the narrative which is ultimately all about the character arcs, and the scene writing is nothing if not rich and vivid. With Kurosawa's expert direction achieving the perfect blend of all the many energies on hand, the result is kind of altogether dazzling.
Mizuguchi Noriyuki's warm cinematography offers its own sort of contrast to the tenor of the proceedings while ably visualizing every detail that there is to take in. From production design and art direction to stunts and effects one can readily see all the skill and hard work that went into this flick, and in the writing, direction, and acting alike we're greeted with a quietly thrumming vitality that's invigorating. Where Kurosawa's other pictures tend to be the type that sneak up on us as viewers, it's noteworthy that this one is more plainly upfront, and still it takes the full length for us to see the totality of its brilliance. I assumed from the outset that I'd enjoy 'Doppelganger,' but I'm all so pleased with just how good it actually is - absorbing, funny, thought-provoking, and honestly tantalizing for the story that it gives us, not to mention satisfying and, after its own fashion, rewarding. It's a feature that definitely occupies the stranger side of the medium, but if one is open to all the wide possibilities that cinema has to offer, it would be a sore mistake to pass this up. I, for one, adore Kurosawa's 'Doppelganger,' and I'm happy to give it my very high recommendation.
Karakkaze yarô (1960)
It's fine, and duly worthwhile, but doesn't make a big impression.
I've observed before, elsewhere, that if one is tired and starts watching an especially great film, it can have the effect of perking one up. Alternatively, one can be wide awake, and start watching an especially bad or unremarkable film, and it can have the effect of putting one to sleep. I'm not saying that it is specifically the fault of 'Afraid to die' that I fell asleep in the middle of watching, not any more than I'm saying that it is specifically an example of a bad movie. What I am saying is that for however broadly well made or enjoyable 'Afraid to die ' it, it doesn't specifically make much of an impression. And that's okay! Not every flick needs to be a revelation, or outwardly striking, and sometimes it's enough to look at something and say "yeah, it's fine" or "yeah, it's pretty good." Of course, without being actively engaging or inspiring an especial reaction, we'll also have no cause to rewatch, nor to give a particular recommendation for anyone else to check it out. And there's the rub, I suppose.
I enjoyed this. It's a worthwhile story, and one that has been told by other filmmakers from other countries with the necessary details adjusted to fit their culture: released from prison, a gangster faces pressure to give up the life, but change is hard and his seedy, violent past won't release him so easily. All involved made commendable, capable contributions to bring the saga to bear, from the writing, direction, and acting, to sets and costume design; from music and sound, to stunts and effects; from cinematography, to editing, to all other bits and bobs along the way. Some odds and ends are extra well done; others are a little less sure-footed; the sum total is just swell, even as protagonist Takeo is especially coarse, dubious, and unlikable. This is all that the feature needs to be, and it doesn't need to be more - although, if it were, then I might be inclined to speak of it more enthusiastically. I'm glad enough that I watched, but I'm also unlikely to ever think about this again.
I'm glad for those who get more out of 'Afraid to die' than I do; I've no quarrel with those who take a harsher view toward it, either. I wish there were more about this title to concretely earn my favor, but I suppose every now and again "good enough" is just that.
Gojira · Ebira · Mosura Nankai no daikettô (1966)
Decent and enjoyable, so long as you're watching the right version
It feels important to immediately mention that if the only version of this film that you've seen is the 1968 English dub released as 'Godzilla vs. The sea monster,' then you have not seen this film. With a terrible and sometimes almost senseless dubbing script, awful and crude editing, recycled footage, and outright omission of some scenes or dialogue, that edition so badly mangles the picture as it should be that the viewing experience is laborious and actively vexing. I was immediately put in a mood so foul that I was put off the idea of watching another movie, any other movie - a reaction I've had only one other time that I can recall - and I was confounded to subsequently read a plot synopsis of the picture as it should have been and discover what I had completely missed out on in the first place. 'Godzilla vs. The sea monster' exemplifies why one should always, always seek out the original version of an international release, with subtitles where applicable. It is, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different film, and at that a definitively inferior one, nevermind a ghastly VHS transfer.
That should come as a bit of good news, in a way, and this too: that in stark contrast, as soon as we start watching 'Ebirah, horror of the deep,' we see a feature that is genuinely cogent and cohesive, with some odds and ends that are actually quite excellent. As this was initially released in Japan the dialogue is sensible and meaningful, the editing is at least suitable if not also kind of sharp, and it's readily evident that all scenes and lines are in their rightful place. 'Godzilla vs. The sea monster' is quite all over the place in the worst of ways, and if 'Ebirah' seems to be slow in its pacing, it's only because the writing is baseline smart enough to communicate an actual story with a purposeful, coherent sequence of events - you know, like any competent storytelling should. Why, bless me bagpipes, as the monsters fight in Toho's true rendition, we viewers can actually see what's happening! Imagine that! I feel so bad for the Japanese cast and crew who worked so hard on their production only to have it so thoroughly butchered on the other side of the ocean.
With this in mind, it's not as if the title is perfect. I'm given to understand that the screenplay trod a rocky road to get to the finished product, and I do think that's reflected somewhat in the film that we see. It's not strictly a "square peg, round hole" situation, but there are still facets of the story that strain suspension of disbelief, including not least early exposition before the characters' South Seas adventure begins. As we've seen in some other Godzilla flicks there are absolutely scattered moments that are downright goofy; this iteration of Nakajima Haruo's costume as the titanic lizard has some curious shortcomings about it, and Mothra isn't looking to be in tip-top shape. Some composite shots are achingly obvious, an eyesore next to other aspects throughout. There are rough edges in these 87 minutes.
Still, Sekizawa Shinichi gives us a duly engaging story, and some nice scene writing. Fukuda Jun's direction is capable, and the acting commendable. The filming locations are beautiful and the sets lovely in their detail. Above all else the practical effects are terrific, and even the post-production visuals are pretty solid. The movie has weaknesses but it's better than not, and it meets the one goal it has: to entertain. For an even better experience, watch the 1966 picture immediately after suffering through its U. S. re-edit. Even if you're a huge kaiju fan the sum total isn't something that demands viewership, yet in a series that has had considerable ups and downs, 'Ebirah, horror of the deep' is reasonably worthwhile on its own merits if you have the opportunity to check it out. Only, please, do make sure that you're watching 'Ebirah' and not 'Godzilla vs. The sea monster.'
Sutorîto faitâ II gekijô-ban (1994)
Overall very enjoyable and well made, with excellent animation and action sequences
I've never been more than a very casual gamer, and I couldn't tell you anything about Capcom's flagship series 'Street Fighter' beyond the names of some of its characters. Yet not least in light of the contemporary "live-action" piece starring Jean-Claude Van Damme and Raul Julia, one can't help but be curious about this anime rendition of the second game in the series. Being thusly unaware, if nothing else that puts me in a prime position to assess this adaptation purely on its own merits as a film. On that note, even with only rudimentary knowledge of the games one can readily discern the cues that this takes from the source material - not just character designs, abilities, and fighting styles but also inspiration for many backgrounds and environments, and even some of the commendable voice work. In no time it becomes very evident how much care went into both recreating as much as possible the look and feel of Capcom's franchise for its fans, but also developing a picture that could be appreciated independent of of those roots. I'm very pleased to say that 'Street Fighter II: The animated movie' is a lot of fun!
Make no mistake, this is built for entertainment first and foremost, particularly given the stylized action sequences and many flourishes ripped straight from the games. Among both other animated works and the action genre at large there are plenty of titles that are distinctly more earnest and substantive, and given the wide variety of characters from across the world that this must necessarily find a way to incorporate into a single globe-trotting narrative, our suspension of disbelief may well be tested. Even before taking into account far-out technology, various characters' abilities, and the cartoonishly exaggerated appearance of many figures, this is definitely a work of fantasy and science fiction as much as action. Nonetheless, a suitable and engaging story is pieced together as powerful fighters from around the world must unite against a shadowy criminal organization. I have to commend filmmaker Sugii Gisaburo and producer Imai Kenichi for shaping the framework of Capcom's game into a cogent, cohesive plot - even with generous helping of Movie Magic on hand - and fleshing out flavorful scene writing and characterizations along the way.
Of course, all that is kind of beside the point. We're here to have a good time watching wildly imaginative characters fight with their varied martial arts styles and fanciful superhuman capabilities, and that's just what we get. The action sequences are as sharp, fluid, and exciting as hope for from any anime, and there are definitely a bunch of them. The characters we know, even if only from afar, are given big personalities and, for the most part, meaningful individual threads to at least some extent. That the story is pretty decent is just a bonus, and that the animation at large is outstanding - nothing less than we would generally expect out of Japan, especially in the post-'Akira' age - is gratifying and rewarding on its own level. The artists of Group TAC turned in terrific work across the board as every element is rich with splendid detail and textures, and vibrant colors: landscapes and cityscapes, interiors, characters, weapons and vehicles, and most certainly any action or effects, including the fast-moving fights. Moreover, all this is definitely a credit as well not only to producer Imai and director Sugii, but editor Furukawa Masashi, who surely had his work cut out for him.
'Street Fighter II: The animated movie' is definitely not the type of animation that's made for kids, for the violence is decidedly brutal at times and results in no small amount of blood. On a different note, it's not that I specifically object to the accentuation of beautiful women - far from it - but on the other hand, the use of Male Gaze in animation feels extra tiresome; the few female characters have been ultra-feminized by having their muscles reduced in a move shamelessly pandering to male viewers; and lengthy emphasis of an already gratuitous shower scene is just altogether juvenile and sexist. Overall solid as the feature may be, some choices made here were rather dubious, to say nothing of the tropes that this unabashedly draws from martial arts and action flicks. And while we're dispensing criticism, it's worth observing that for all the work that Imai and Sugii put into their screenplay, the dialogue is often kind of clunky, and likewise the plot development. I suppose to some degree this comes with the described territory of far-flung characters and locales (even Eon Productions' famed James Bond franchise has had this issue), but that doesn't help matters.
All the same, pick apart the presentation as we may, broadly speaking the film is well made and enjoyable. Outlandish muscles upon outlandish muscles and all, one gets pretty much exactly what one expects - and for both better and worse, then a little more. From one to the next all involved did a great job, with special kudos for animators Group TAC and choreographers Ishii Kazuyoshi and Andy Hug. One would also be remiss not to mention the superb original music of Komuro Tetsuya and Toriyama Yuji; from hard rock and 80s rock sensibilities to more moody themes, the soundtrack lends tremendously to the surprisingly dark tone this tends to carry, and absolutely to the viewing experience as a whole. A dash of J-pop, judiciously woven in at the climax, is a nice bit of flair. Just as there are more questionable facets, there are little bright spots all throughout, too, even in the writing. When all is said and done the result may not completely demand viewership, but whether one is a fan of the games or anime or just looking for something good to watch, there's a lot to admire throughout these 101 minutes, and I can't say I didn't have fun. Don't go out of your way for 'Street Fighter II: The animated movie,' but if you have the chance to watch, it's duly worthwhile all on its own.
Otoko no monshô: Ryûko mujô (1966)
Solid and enjoyable, if not necessarily specifically noteworthy
Released from prison, yakuza leader Oshima Ryuji finds his home and his territory diminished as the rivals of the Shibahama have taken over, now running roughshod over the streets and even troubling his beloved Haruko. Conflict swiftly ensues as Oshima moves to rebuild and reclaim what was and will again be his. It's a simple premise, yet with Oshima feeling pressure from both his desire to help the townspeople and the honest cop who wants the boss to go straight, turn his life around, and leave the Shibahama to the police, compelling drama adjoins bursts of violence. Things only get more interesting as the pot develops, to say nothing of the excellent stunts, fight choreography, and effects that bring the action to bear. This is not an especially well-known film, and that's kind of a shame, because 'The dragon and the tiger' is unexpectedly solid and enjoyable all the way through.
Kia Hisataka's strong writing is shaped by Matsuo Akinori's firm direction with a mind to keep the drama and tension simmering at a low but increasingly intense boil. Spirited acting of vibrant range, poise, and physicality bolsters the softly thrumming vitality of the picture, nevermind Hagiwara Kenji's sharp, vivid cinematography, and Kaburagi Hajime's original music is splendid, somber complement to those same ends. All that's to say nothing of the superb filming locations, sets, costume design, and hair and makeup, bringing the vision of 1920s Japan life in a manner that's very easy on the eyes. As events escalate the feature grows decidedly darker, and ever more exciting and engrossing, with the violence invariably expanding in scope all the while. At no point is the sum total so striking or spellbinding as to demand viewership, but I find this to be roundly terrific, with no faults in sight save perhaps for a measure of brusqueness in the Matsuo's direction.
For all the movies that have ever been made about yakuza, most are set in the chaos of the post-war period or later. For all the many works of Japanese cinema that have ever been made available for international viewers, this is one with few if any names or faces that I specifically, readily recognize. What I take this to mean, however, is just that this flick is even more of an unlikely minor treasure as I have come across it. From the low-key opening and the gradual build in the narrative, to the fantastic contributions of all involved a gratifyingly gripping climax and ending, there's a lot to love in these 87 minutes, including some particular shots that are extra well done. It's nothing one needs to go out of their way to see, but if you do have the opportunity to watch this then stands steadily on its own merits as a relatively obscure but well made and highly enjoyable classic. 'The dragon and the tiger' may not have the same visibility as many contemporaries, but I'm very glad I took the time to watch and I'm pleased to give it my warm recommendation.
Shûbun (1950)
A fine drama excels in all ways, with nice enriching touches all throughout
Kurosawa Akira and frequent collaborator Kikushima Ryuzo make no effort here to hide their contempt for paparazzi, celebrity magazines, or anyone who violates personal privacy for their own gain. The staff of rag "Amour" is depicted as purely loathsome, arrogant sleaze with no respect for other people, or the truth, and artist Ichiro and singer Miyako find their lives impacted well beyond the falsehood printed in a disreputable publication when they happen to be spotted together. It's a blessing Kurosawa didn't live to see the modern Internet, for I can scarcely imagine the apoplectic reaction he would have had to social media alone. Emphasizing the point, when in a scene halfway through Shimura Takeshi delivers a speech as attorney Hiruta, every word is an excoriation of the type of people that "Amour" employs as they prey on those who are vulnerable to their conniving ways. 'Scandal' is nothing if not a piece that Kurosawa made with intent to make our blood boil as much as his does in the face of the cruelty and corruption in society, and I can't fathom anyone stepping away from this not feeling the same.
Thankfully there is also a human face to the film in addition to the one of filth that immediately and predominantly presents, for it is also a story of virtue, honesty, and kindness, and good people standing up against malicious gossip and those with the means and indecency to press their advantage of wealth or power. The rottenness of "Amour" is sharply contrasted with the earnestness and innocence of Ichiro and Miyako, and Masako's wholehearted belief in that goodness - and in the goodness of her father, attorney Hiruta. There stands Hiruta in the middle, meaning well but frail in character, and between these three elements of the good, the bad, and the dubious lies all the fuel and buzzing electricity necessary for this drama to take wing and keep us invested. And that it does, most assuredly, for Kurosawa and Kikushima give us strong characters and dialogue, robust and pointed scene writing, and a firmly compelling narrative from start to finish. Between Ubukata Toshio's keen, dynamic vision as cinematographer and Kurosawa's reliably smart, vibrant direction, this relatively mundane human drama nevertheless claims a vitality that recalls the celebrated jidaigeki for which the filmmaker is best known.
Kurosawa hardly stands alone in that excellence, however. Shimura kind of steals the show with his portrayal of beleaguered, weak-willed Hiruta - partly the benefit of being cast in a pivotal role as a figure with a critical part to play in the tableau, and partly just because esteemed Shimura was that great of an actor. His co-stars are just as terrific, from screen legend Mifune Toshiro and international star Yamaguchi Yoshiko, to Katsuragi Yoko, to even those in smaller supporting parts like Kodo Kokuten. From one to the next the acting decidedly enriches the storytelling with its soft emotional depth and sincerity, and this only becomes more the case as the length advances and the third act focuses on Ichiro and Miyako's lawsuit. That quite goes for everything here; though the feature may not sound outwardly striking with its premise of modern day human drama and courtroom proceedings, the cast, director (and editor) Kurosawa, photographer Ubukata, and all others find small ways to add a little measure of fervor and excitement to the presentation with tiny contributions that are distinctly eye-catching. To that same end, the writing boasts some especially shrewd, almost poetic flourishes, in every regard, that stand out as the minutes tick by. There is, gratifyingly, a bit more to this flick than one might anticipate.
Save for the more dramatic tone in everything including Hayasaka Fumio's nicely complementary music, when all is said and done I dare say 'Scandal' even carries sensibilities akin to the works of Frank Capra given the characterizations, the trajectory of the plot, and even some of the scenes and dialogue. While it's not something that comes across as an outright revelation, and may even feel a smidgen melodramatic at points, the end result is a movie that's far more engaging and absorbing than it sounds as we see it from the outside. Having treasured so many of Kurosawa's other productions I assumed I would enjoy this one, but I'm very pleased to say that in my estimation it easily counts among his finer successes. It may not demand viewership in the same way as 'Ikiru,' 'Red Beard,' or 'Rashomon,' but whether one is a fan of someone who participated or just looking for something good to watch, I'm very happy with just how good 'Scandal' is, and I'm glad to give it my very high recommendation!
Deddo sushi (2012)
Duly enjoyable, even though the clever and fun is troubled by the cheap and tiresome
For as joyfully overdone as this is even in its first few minutes in every way - writing, direction, acting, music, and even the editing and effects - it's hard not to get our hopes up for a wild good time. The flick quite establishes its comedic stylings before its horror, predominantly with boisterousness that tends toward boorishness if not outright juvenility: grandiose accentuation of the culinary art of making sushi; wholly overcooked dialogue, scene writing, and characterizations; unabashedly ham-fisted, exaggerated direction and acting; physical comedy, and cheap jokes and gags surrounding sex and anatomy; and so on. For good measure cinematographer Nagano Yasutaka gets in on the ridiculousness with overzealous camerawork alongside Iguchi Noboru's cheeky orchestration of shots and scenes, and this is to say nothing of the infusion of martial arts and fight scenes that are sometimes equally cartoonish. Then, at last, there is the horror element, replete with purposefully bare-faced artificiality in the effects whether practical or digital, plentiful blood and gore, and of course, zombie sushi.
All this is just a reflection of what to expect from 'Dead sushi' and does not necessarily pertain to its quality. The blend of horror and comedy sometimes rides a fine line, and it can take little to push the amalgamation over the edge into either clever and fun if gnarly frivolity, or sheer puerile and/or overcharged raucousness. So how is the end result? For better and for worse, this picture rides that indicated line very consistently in that it has one foot on either side as it advances through these ninety-odd minutes. In its use of practical effects, in its most unapologetic and lighthearted cheesiness, and in the coy wit that says "you know what, sure, let's just go for it," this is actually very funny at times and kind of charming in its silliness, and these feelings extend to the cast and all others involved. In its use of very obvious computer-generated imagery, in its most tiresomely inane and childish bits of humor (e.g., fart jokes), and in its unbridled immoderation that lacks the discerning sense to ground it, this becomes dull and exhausting if not outright aggravating, and I wonder how those involved subsequently feel about their participation.
It's a very mixed bag. From one moment to the next the movie might be enjoyable, or it might try our patience, or maybe it will perfectly split the difference. To be a little of both, however, is not the sort of balance that a horror-comedy needs to be able to work. Moreover, if we're being honest, then insofar as the final product is a function of the good, the bad, and the questionable, the bad and the questionable work in concert to staunchly counterbalance the good, and threaten to overtake it entirely. The detractions aren't so severe as to completely drag down the viewing experience, and just as some aspects are especially bad, some are especially great. There was a lot of potential in the concept, and there really is a lot to like here, including the practical effects and special makeup, the spirited commitment of the cast in their performances, Fukuda Yasuhiko's music, the stunts and choreography, and other minutiae like the production design, art direction, and costume design, hair, and makeup. I'll even say that I appreciate Iguchi's screenplay, for aside from the utmost intemperance, there a lot of delightfully impertinent sparks of ingenuity all throughout - yes, in the dialogue, characterizations, scene writing, and the narrative at large.
So it's just unfortunate that the low-key brilliance we see when the film is at its best is not more fully represented throughout the length. The sprightly irreverence of embracing the goofiness succeeds only when the gleeful creativity of absurdity supersedes bombast of any sort. When all is said and done I think 'Dead sushi' can claim a fairly strong finish with its third act, and though we can endlessly debate the precise extent, I'm inclined to believe the sum total is slightly better than not. Why, as outtakes greet us over the end credits, it's evident that cast and crew alike had a blast making this, not least star Takeda Rina, and I'm glad that I can share that joy in some measure. I wish I could share it more wholeheartedly. In fairness, maybe all this is nitpicking anyway - there was a very low probability that this title was ever going to be a must-see riot, and having nevertheless served its purpose in providing entertainment on any level, is that not enough? Maybe so, or maybe not, since I can recognize how it might have been better. Ultimately I do like 'Dead sushi,' and I think it's worth checking out for something light and uncomplicated on a lazy day; perhaps that's all it ever needed to be in the first place.
Iria: Zeiram the Animation (1994)
Fun, engaging sci-fi action that fits neatly beside its live-action brethren
I highly enjoyed Amemiya Keita's live-action 'Zeiram' films, two terrific blasts of genre fare that also boasted outstanding practical effects and otherwise visuals. The second maybe wasn't as strong as the first, but more than anything else that speaks to how excellent the progenitor was. It's only fair to wonder how an OVA might compare to Amemiya's works, not least when it notably does not have the same cast and crew that both live-action flicks did. However, in no time after we start watching it becomes evident that such questions of comparison are beside the point: in any medium the franchise is nothing if not an opportunity to blend together science fiction and action with a little humor and horror on the side, and 'Iria: Zeiram the animation' easily holds its own. As far as I'm concerned this is fantastic!
The anime occupies an interesting point of both serving as a prequel for the movies - providing a backstory for bounty hunter Iria - and to some small degree reimagining the story of the movies, especially since Iria is shown here as encountering Zeiram earlier in her career. With that in mind, one is maybe best served by thinking of this not strictly as an addition to narrative canon, but as another interpretation of these characters and their universe. There are perhaps additional minutiae one might nitpick, but I think the one other most salient point to raise is that the visuals are surely more visceral in their live-action format, particularly when it comes to any creatures. That is in no way a reflection on the quality here, but I think it's simply a matter of the vibrancy of something we could theoretically touch for ourselves versus the vibrancy of a purely two-dimensional representation. And still, all this is just rumination on where these six episodes fit in alongside their full-length kin; one way or another, the OVA is really fun, and well worth checking out on its own merits regardless of our relationship with the features.
Him and haw as we may about the particulars - as we usually and rightly anticipate of Japanese animation, the artists turned in phenomenal work in shaping the look and feel of the series. Every facet of the visuals are rich with superb detail and imagination, from backgrounds and settings including landscapes and outer space, building interiors and even more so the exterior of structures, and hardly any less so the active animated elements. Iria and Zeiram mostly retain the same appearance as in the live-action pictures but are also tweaked here; from weapons and sundry items, to vehicles and other characters, and not least the gnarly creature designs, everything looks superb and it's clear how much effort went into making this worthy of the medium at large, and the composite genres, and its longer brethren. Action sequences and effects are exciting and invigorating, and there are plenty of nice little touches everywhere in the animation to grab our eyes even beyond the foremost spectacle.
To my pleasure, that latter phrase quite extends to the writing as well, a credit to director Amino Tetsuro, and colleagues Arakawa Naruhisa and Matsumoto Hajime - with Matsumoto, as Amemiya's co-writer, being the one link on the production side of things between the live-action flicks and the anime. Tiny odds and ends populate each episode that are gratifying for how they demonstrate the intelligence and care of all involved; whether providing fuel for the animators, enriching some aspect of the writing, or both, there's much to get our attention all throughout. The plot in each film was relatively simple and straightforward, mostly just serving as a platform for the romp to follow, but in this rendition considerable welcome thought was poured into a bigger overarching narrative that's solidly engaging and compelling in its own right, with admirable themes and ideas, and a definitive progression as the saga unfolds and expands from one half-hour to the next. In tracing Iria's early days as a bounty hunter we've also given a tale of corruption, malfeasance, conspiracy, and shortsightedness, and even on paper this has us locked in for the ride as the saga eventually comes full circle. The characters are fleshed out more, with Iria certainly being given more complexity (and broadly made genuinely more interesting in the process), and fine dialogue adds to both the flavor and the plot development across sharp scenes that are themselves ably engrossing.
Even with the action violence and darker genre facets the overall vibe is surely lighter than what we got in the movies. I say this not least as a couple supporting characters, including a kid, are written if not for outright comic relief, then to further humanize a protagonist that we previously have known chiefly as a skilled warrior. Animation also allows for otherworldly settings that innately offer more of a sense of whimsy, contrasting with the predominantly urban, industrial, or otherwise realistic settings in the films that automatically lend themselves to a measure of grit. Then again, those settings and even those youths fit into a story that gets decidedly more grim and violent in the back half, most notably in the fourth and fifth episodes which Matsumoto had written where horror very emphatically and dramatically rears its head. To that same end, while the opening and closing themes are very catchy, easy on the ears, and upbeat - I could easily listen to Goto Yayoi's "At the end of the melting dream" and SAEKO's "Although the dream is far" on repeat - Yoshikawa Yoichiro's score, itself a swell complement, also grows more somber and pensive in the last three episodes. There is a real, meaningful progression from start to finish, and I really appreciate that.
Capped off with top-notch direction, great and expressive voice acting, and marvelous sound effects, this really is very well done all around. I assumed I'd enjoy it, but particularly between the strong writing and visuals, I'm so very pleased with just how good the OVA turned out to be. Whether one is a fan of Amemiya's 'Zeiram' and 'Zeiram 2,' a fan of anime generally, or just looking for a good time with sci-fi action, I think most anyone could sit to watch this three hours and step away entertained and satisfied. I wouldn't go so far as to say it fully demands viewership, but if you have the chance to see it then I'm happy to give 'Iria: Zeiram the animation' my high recommendation!
Shitoyakana kedamono (1962)
Darkly funny, utterly brilliant, completely phenomenal - a direly underappreciated gem
Subtle, and brilliant, with an incredibly wry, dry, satirical sense of humor - I really didn't know what to expect when I sat to watch this, but I am positively over the moon. In every regard this film is remarkably shrewd, twisting ordinary notions into something a little off-kilter, and despite its simple outward appearance there's so much to take in that one may well need to pause just to collect their thoughts. Shindo Kaneto's script is exceptional, centering events entirely around conversations and interactions in and around a single apartment so that the proceedings could just as well be adapted to the stage. The Maeda family puts on airs and takes advantage of everyone around them in every way and to every degree that they can, pushing buttons as far as they dare, and even somewhat working against each other even as they work in concert. The activities of other figures only add to the delicious miasma, and every character is written with marvelous, cunning intelligence and an undeniably fierce spirit. That's to say nothing of the sharp, cutting dialogue that flies between all who come and go across each scene, low-key dazzling and flavorful as each is. Strictly speaking the plot bears a certain flatness as it relies so heavily on these characters and their dialogue to develop, and it would require astonishing acumen to shape that approach into an engaging, enjoyable satisfying viewing experience - but, by Jove, Shindo alone does just that. As events do culminate to a particular end in the last stretch, the result is utterly exquisite. "Jaw-dropping" is often used as hyperbole, but with 'Elegant beast,' also known as 'The graceful brute,' it's quite literal, and reflective of only the utmost praise.
There's the vibrant performances of the cast, buzzing with high energy that's just waiting to explode as scenes and interactions provide its one outlet, and even with that focus the actors give portrayals that are larger than life. In all earnestness I would love to see what a playwright might make of this in a live setting, for Ito Yunosuke, Hamada Yuko, Kawabata Manamitsu, Wakao Ayako, Takamatsu Hideo, Sazanka Kyu, and even Yamaoka Hisano shine with the strident vitality and simmering craftiness they infuse into their roles. True, this credit extends just as well to filmmaker Kawashima Yuzo with his bright direction, guiding the picture toward that bristling undercurrent of ferocity. But each player in and of themselves is so electric in their acting that, like Shindo's screenplay, they pretty much make this a stunning feature all by themselves. To my amazement, as much as devious thoughts and harsh words fly between all the characters who fill the preponderance of the runtime, and for as superb as all the rest of the cast is, the brief appearance of Funakoshi Eiji as Kamiya is more striking yet: when at last we viewers are presented with a character who is genuine and earnest we can immediately discern it, and Kamiya's part in the tableau echoes like a thunderclap for the achingly dark portent it suddenly lends to the whole affair. With only a couple minutes on-screen Funakoshi delivers a performance of emotional depth that shatters the status quo we had been spectating, bringing all to bear even more - right before the last minutes continue with business as usual.
Beyond minding his cast Kawashima has his hands full with other resplendent ingenuity in his capacity as director, for working in concert with cinematographer Munekawa Nobuo and his crew, the fundamental presentation is stupendously keen and absorbing as even framing and blocking are impeccably, smartly calculated. Just as the movie at large carries cheeky sensibilities about it, Kawashima and Munekawa are rather playful in how most every moment is shot, and it's all very purposeful and meaningful. Discrete high angles, low angles, and wide shots may show what every character in a scene is doing; characters in the background will be the focus while someone is in the foreground, or maybe they're talking at the foreground figure; people and set pieces serve as obstacles in the foreground to split our perspective of a scene as it transpires, often connoting discrete divisions and trajectories. Very particular use of lighting, carefully constructed set pieces and shots, voiceovers, and movements of actors add a certain unexpected artistic fancifulness while bolstering the underhanded wit coursing throughout these ninety-five minutes, and there's scarcely one footfall without a sly intent behind it. Where a very mundane, unsophisticated shot is employed, the use almost feels like a small joke in and of itself given how meticulously the title was otherwise constructed.
Raised voices aside, those scant few moments of extra vigor or extra softness throughout the length are piercing for how they complement and bolster everything else herein. Much the same can be said of Ikeno Sei's music, for though it rears its head very sparingly, where it does the use is excellent in what it lends to the storytelling - including the last moments, a stark coda. And really, what a way to end this title that so pointedly critiques modern living: the dog-eat-dog, "every man for himself" selfishness and treachery encouraged by capitalism and the profound inequalities in society, and the shiftiness that allows the amoral or cruel to get ahead while those of any scruples suffer. A little more than fifteen years after World War II, and a hair under ten years since the Allied occupation ended, Shindo and Kawashima set their sights on Japan specifically, but the notions herein are easily, despairingly applied to any locale around the world where one might live. Rounded out with fine contributions from all others behind the scenes, at large the film boasts so many strengths that it stands out head, shoulders, knees, and toes above most others I could name. In all honesty, this is one of the most brilliant features I've ever seen; even for the places the story goes, and the overall tone, "phenomenal" seems too tiny a word to describe it. Given the way this is put together it won't necessarily appeal to all comers, but I cannot overstate how terrific it is, and downright spellbinding. Even having just finished I'm ready to watch it again, and I'm so very pleased to give 'Elegant beast' my very high and enthusiastic recommendation!
Zeiram 2 (1994)
A slightly different feel, but basically just as much fun; an excellent blast of sci-fi action
I found the first film of 1991 to be an unexpected delight. Well made all around, a fun blast of sci-fi action, I was stunned by the imagination and hard work that went into the outstanding creature designs and practical effects. One success is no guarantee of another, however, and I think it's fair to enter this sequel with some trepidation. The opening scene is not enough to truly start forming an opinion, nor the credits sequence that employs the rudimentary computer-generated imagery of the early 90s, though they do reinforce that trepidation. I might add that with exposition needing to start laying the foundations of the scenario and also find a reason to reunite returning characters, it perhaps takes a bit for the plot to really begin picking up. Thankfully, however, as the minutes tick by, 'Zeiram 2' proves to be gratifyingly engaging and enjoyable on its own merits, and a swell follow-up to its progenitor. Though it carries a bit of a different feel, it boasts plenty of its own ingenuity, and is overall fantastic. It may not entirely stand shoulder to shoulder with 'Zeiram,' but for as great as both are, that distinction doesn't mean all that much
Some little touches are a bit much, like the Male Gaze that occasionally lingers on star Moriyama Yuko, and at times the feature seems primed to be more over the top. While those more basic computer graphics turn out to be a reflection of Iria's AI assistant Bob, one may argue they're slightly overused. A little more reliance on post-production additions to the filmed footage inherently means that it is sometimes inferior to the more judiciously utilized instances of three years before. Then again, all this is part of the cheeky joy of the viewing experience - including that opening sequence that rather makes me think of a Charles Band production - or slivers of humor like a splendid use of split-screen editing, or the continued antics of Teppei and Kamiya. What I think does discretely trouble the picture is a relatively soft tone, and softer pacing, that take some of the energy out of the ride. With that in mind, too, some bursts of action and certain emphatic shots appear more overcooked than they are, reinforcing the sense of a B-movie. Yet no matter how much one may nitpick, the simple fact of the matter is that 'Zeiram 2' is once again well made and highly entertaining.
There's a tad more digital wizardry, and not all of it is as excellent as what we got before, but mostly it's just fine, and it's not altogether overused. There may be a tad fewer practical effects, creature designs, or otherwise tangible creations, but those that we do get are consistently terrific and creative, and we even still get a smidgen of beloved stop-motion animation. Inasmuch as the predecessor was a sci-fi action title with aspects of comedy and healthy doses of monster-filled horror, this notably reduces the latter facet while generally bearing a lighter tone. Nevertheless, the filming locations, sets, props, and weapons are marvelous, the stunts and effects exciting, and the costume design, hair, and makeup are wonderfully rich. Moriyama's look as Iria has notably been changed ever so slightly, and I appreciate that look and the thought that went into it. Moriyama's isn't the only familiar face, however, for most everyone involved has returned from the previous title. As they do it seems evident how much they all loved making these, and I kind of wish that more had been made over time.
So we get the solid, well-rounded performances from Moriyama, Hotaru Yukijiro, and Ida Kunihiro, and the capable and unexpectedly tight direction of Amemiya Keita. Ohta Koichi's score adds nice flavor, and the cinematography and editing are quite keen. The fight choreography is sharp. And even as this film differs from the last, Amemiya and collaborator Matsumoto Hajime again deliver an admirable, well-considered screenplay. Varied scene writing rounds out a compelling narrative that pulls together all the same elements in an interesting and meaningful way, and both again yield some smart detail and quietly buzzing electricity. Here those details are less about laying the groundwork for an action and effects extravaganza and more about fleshing out the storytelling, and even so I commend Amemiya and Matsumoto for the skill and intelligence they bring to the tableau. And so it goes for everything here. At points I can't always decide 'Zeiram 2' is more or less focused than 'Zeiram,' or more or less balanced. One way or another I do think that all told it's a small step down. Him and haw as we may about the particulars, however, all I know is that I had a fabulous time watching, and I'm glad I found both these flicks to check out. I wouldn't say this demands viewership in the same way as the progenitor, yet as another superb slice of sci-fi action, this 1994 sequel holds its own and deserves a look if you have the chance.
Zeiramu (1991)
Outstanding effects cement a solid, fun blast of sci-fi action
The most state-of-the-art computer generated imagery will always look worse the more we see of it and the more it's relied upon, and will always appear outdated within a matter of years. Employed far more sparingly as embellishing additions, as in sci-fi films of the 70s, 80s, and early 90s, the usage remains fetching and delightful even if they're not up to subsequent modern standards. In contrast, practical effects, physical stunts and choreography, fabricated props and creatures, and tangible creations of all sorts will always, always be preferred, and always look better and hold up better, than any CGI. The stop-motion animation of 1933's 'King Kong' is a big part of why it remains, over ninety years later, the superior iteration of the ape's screen appearances; the grit, dirt, and real moving parts of sets and creatures in the first three 'Star Wars' pictures is a big part of why they remain the most highly celebrated installments of an enormous franchise. In a like manner, it is all these considerations which went into the sci-fi action of 'Zeiram' that makes it marvelously entertaining more than thirty years later. Just based on the premise I assumed I'd enjoy it, and boy, do I! In fact, I think it's an absolute blast!
That visual presentation is simply a joy in every capacity, filled with splendid detail, texture, and imagination. Gnarly creatures, fanciful weapons and props, colorful costume design, nice filming locations, rich or even otherworldly sets, terrific painted backdrops, smart use of lighting and environmental effects, and so on are all the order of the day in these ninety-seven minutes. I dare say the judicious use of post-production digital wizardry actually looks pretty darn great for 1991, and to my utter pleasure we even get stop-motion animation! The action sequences really are a lot of exciting fun, and the touches of comedy that round out the feature are lightly peppered in such that they never supersede the darker sci-fi action vibes - or the slivers of horror that come with creepy creature designs - and remain well in balance with them. To that point, I'm so very pleased with the story that filmmaker Amemiya Keita and co-writer Matsumoto Hajime have given us. The tale kind of recalls John Carpenter's 'Big trouble in Little China,' or the 1993 'Super Mario Bros.' movie, as two ordinary electricians accidentally get involved in an extraterrestrial, extradimensional fight between a bounty hunter and her deadly target. At its core that narrative may be fairly simple, but clever, bountiful, often genuinely horrifying minutiae were conceived to fill that narrative and the scene writing all the way through, in turn giving us a feast for the eyes as those behind the scenes worked overtime to bring it all to fantastic, vibrant life.
Ida Kunihiro and Hotaru Yukijiro are excellent in their roles as regular tradesmen Teppei and Kamiya, deftly navigating the space between initial wide-eyed shock, intermittent goofy antics, and serious effort at rising to the challenge and combating a dangerous foe. Even though bounty hunter Iria isn't always front and center, one way or another Moriyama Yuko ably meets the demands of physicality and poise that come with the sobriety of a fearsome professional. Between bits of humor, cold hard action, and a few quieter moments to round out the edges, the cast give unexpectedly sharp, spirited performances that mesh neatly with the superb spectacle and blend of genres to which we're otherwise treated. All this is very much a credit as well to director Amemiya, capably mixing all the odds and ends together and forming the amalgamation into a fabulously absorbing, highly enjoyable, and surprisingly thrilling and intoxicating title. This is to say nothing of Ohta Koichi's flavorful music, crisp sound, keen cinematography and editing, or even the swell hair and makeup. And still, for all that, it bears repeating that the writing and direction are more shrewd that we may commonly anticipate of such fare as they lay the groundwork for the visions to greet us. And once more for emphasis: the creature designs are truly outstanding. Carpenter, David Cronenberg, Stan Winston, Rick Baker, Phil Tippett, and all others who operate in the realm of fantasy, sci-fi, and horror would be very proud of what the effects artists created here. I know I am, and even if nothing else about this would be deserving, I think it necessitates viewership for the effects alone.
I sat to watch with expectations of a good time, but one more likely to be a low-grade B-movie. I'm rather taken aback by just how much undeniable skill, intelligence, and care went into this film. If ever there's a moment where it seems the presentation goes a hair too far, or not far enough, it's frankly negligible, and the end result is far, far more worthy than I'd have ever supposed. As far as I'm concerned 'Zeiram' is tremendous, and whether you're a fan of the genres or similar effects-laden bonanzas, or just looking for something to pass the time, I'm happy to give this my high and enthusiastic recommendation!
Izumi (1956)
Even the greatest of filmmakers have their off days.
No one could ever accuse Kobayashi Masaki of insincerity. Even his medium-length 'Youth of the son,' which felt like a 1950s TV sitcom, bore some nice storytelling and themes amidst its cheerfulness. Yet even as Kobayashi joins the fine company of contemporary Kurosawa Akira in having directed some of the greatest films ever made, he also shares the distinction of not necessarily having a flawless record. It's certainly not that this 1956 movie is outright bad, for it's duly well made and acted, with interesting story threads, themes, and ideas. However, both on paper and in realization the plot has been rendered far more than not as a gaudy melodrama that would fit right in with the modern soap operas of daytime television. The strength of the viewing experience is sapped away as judicious, meaningful storytelling is overtaken by grandiose flourishes, and by shaky scene writing, characterizations, and plot development of gauchely heightened dramatic inclinations that will satisfy the bored housewife more than the avid cinephile or ardent consumer of fiction. No, 'Fountainhead' isn't bad, but nor is it really convincing.
Two halves of the feature more or less dovetail into each other as the greed and amoral indifference of the wealthy, powerful, and corporate, controlling and recklessly exploiting precious water resources, are intertwined with dollops of romance and interpersonal drama. We have the wealthy businessman who has unhealthy relationships with women, and his extra smarmy business partners who are even worse regarding any considerations for other people and their concerns. There's the young scientist who demonstrates earnest interest in exploring new sources of water, who is also kind of boorish, sexist, and quick to anger in his naive attitudes toward women. There's the young lady who hopelessly pines for that scientist, and another for whom the scientist yearns but is caught in the midst of all these other individuals and her own ambitions. These and others are all notions worth teasing out in a picture. All of them put together with the noted sensibilities becomes tiring rather quickly, not least with an overall flat tone, discrete moments of amplified emotional emphasis, and a score that swells sensationally at all those same discrete moments. The narrative is genuinely compelling in and of itself, and some odds and ends are particularly brilliant even in the dialogue - yet the details that round that narrative, and the manner in which it was realized, make the feature uneven and imbalanced, like a disc or cylinder spinning when its weight is not evenly distributed.
Kinoshita Chuji's music is nice in and of itself, but the fashion in which it is employed is overbearing. The sets are fantastic and rich with detail, and the filing locations are lovely; the costume design, hair, and makeup are sharp. I appreciate the cinematography. Of everything in these two hours, I believe it's the acting that is strongest of all as the cast give performances of personality, range, nuance, and emotional depth. And to be sure, Kobayashi's direction is technically competent. Yet his skills here seem unskilled if not altogether unpracticed as 'Fountainhead' struggles with tone, and with the fundamental dispensation of plot. Just as some bits and bobs are especially well done, between the writing, Kobayashi's oversight and guidance as director, the sequencing and editing, and the music, other bits and bobs almost inspire laughter for how poorly they are executed. There is value in this title, but it's a regrettable hodgepodge that sometimes comes close to achieving something great, but never actually does. Rather accentuating the point, as events of all stripes come to a head in the last twenty to thirty minutes, not only does the sum total not improve, but I quite wonder if the storytelling doesn't falter even more. That formative plot idea of water rights just silently slips away into a tertiary matter until it suddenly roars back in the last stretch, and in so doing comes across not as a shift in focus but as outright neglect as a storyteller. Through to the end other narrative ideas suffer a similar fate, unnaturally coming and going, and the final scenes seem downright flimsy to me. Admirable themes are at last struck upon, perhaps - but at that point, so what?
I don't fully dislike this film. Whether true or not, however, it comes across as the product of a difficult time in Kobayashi's life, when the utmost mastery he demonstrated at his best was peculiarly diminished owing to unknown factors. Suitable ideas and generally fine craftsmanship flounder as they present, and I'm left unimpressed. I'm not saying that 'Fountainhead' isn't deserving in some measure; I am saying that it's a pale shade of what the filmmaker was capable of, and unless you have some special impetus to watch, this isn't something that specifically demands viewership.
Shizukanaru kettô (1949)
Finely written and acted; worthy, if not essential
Leave it to Kurosawa Akira to make something as dour and dreary as this, in which a well-meaning and honorable man meets with an unlucky incident, and doing the honorable thing requires him to all but give up on his life. I wouldn't count 'The quiet duel' among the most depressing movies I've ever see, but at times it's close enough, and at its most glum it is most assuredly just as dispiriting as a tale of integrity compounding misfortune. Between Kyoji's unfortunate circumstances and Susumu's willful ignorance, this is far from a cheerful film. That makes it a little awkward, then, that there are occasional breaks in tone of varying severity, sometimes simply connoting warmth and love and at points being distinctly more upbeat. Compelling as the story is it's not entirely even-keeled, and that the sullenness is borne out primarily through scenes of quiet conversations reduce the impact that such a somber saga should carry. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I think this is a rare instance in which Kurosawa's legendary, otherwise rightly esteemed skills as a director stumbled, and the success of the picture isn't necessarily his to claim.
It feels like a lack of focus, as if there were something else just on the periphery that drew away some consideration from the production, and affected other elements in turn. With that in mind, even if robbed of their utmost potency, I think the real strengths of the feature lie in the writing and acting. Lessened in realization, even just on paper the plot is absorbing and satisfying in its emotional destitution, with vivid scene writing, dialogue, and characterizations lending some vitality to the eventual theme of carrying on despite hardship. Just as much to the point, the actors fight through the malaise of the material and Kurosawa's seeming distraction to deliver performances of powerful emotional depth. Mifune Toshiro is as reliable as ever, and for that matter iconic Shimura Takashi, yet other cast members of less renown are just as outstanding, or arguably even make more of an impression here. That includes Sengoku Noriko as Nurse Minegishi, a young nurse facing her own trials; Uemura Kenjiro as stricken Susumu; and Nakakita Chieko and Sanjo Miki, who in other supporting parts nevertheless have their time to softly shine. What the writing cannot do alone, and Kurosawa apparently struggled to do in this instance, the cast go a long way toward achieving.
Granted, this is also well made in other regards, including the sets, hair and makeup, and certainly Aisaka Soichi's cinematography. Actually, as the course of events pointedly intensifies at the climax Aisaka's contribution stands out as a chief highlight of the title as it does much to build the tension of the sequence. Moreover, for that space of perhaps ten minutes I discern the keen intelligence and mindfulness that has been lacking in the direction. At the climax, Kurosawa, his cast and crew, and 'The quiet duel' at large are firing on all cylinders, and it's almost enough in and of itself to earn back some of the favor that's been missing. Still, I'm a bit taken aback that for as fine a viewing experience as this may be overall, it doesn't feel like we're seeing the filmmaker at his best, and the sum total is a smidgen Lesser Than. By all means, this is still quite good and worth watching; it's just that for someone of Kurosawa's caliber, "fine" and "still quite good" are a strange step down. Do check it out if you have the opportunity, for the film is deserving, but be aware of the downbeat nature of the narrative, and don't enter expecting the full glory of the man at his best. With those caveats heeded, perhaps you'll find 'The quiet duel' to be even richer than I have.
Tasogare Seibei (2002)
Truly outstanding, a modern samurai classic joining the fine company of past exemplars
Let's speak frankly: this was received with many accolades after its release, and it doesn't take long as we begin watching before we find out why. It is an exquisite film, unquestionably recalling the resplendence of jidaigeki classics from the likes of Kurosawa Akira, Kobayashi Masaki, Inagaki Hiroshi, and their contemporaries. We see In Yamada Yoji's masterpiece the same patient, deliberate mind for captivating, impactful storytelling, grand and impressive craftsmanship, and even a keen sense of artistry. Protagonist Iguchi Seibei is a beautiful soul in an ugly world, content with a simple life of caring for his family and his land and standing in stark contrast to the staunchly rigid structures and demands of the society around him, or the violence that fills the corners of the Edo period. Unconcerned with social and feudal norms, he nevertheless is slowly forced into circumstances that require him to set aside the peace he has known. Action is truly minimal here as drama dominates, soft but ponderous, yet it's that exact approach that allows 'The twilight samurai' to resonate with the same vitality and indeed profundity of the celebrated company of 'Seven samurai,' 'Samurai rebellion,' or 'Duel at Ichijoji Temple.'
Where stunts, fight choreography, and bloodshed do take precedence, most significantly at the climax, it is with a measured, finessed mastery that stands shoulder to shoulder with the very best of kindred fare. Importantly, however, the broad declination of such violence quite accentuates the real core of the picture, which is in its own way a refutation of the romanticization of samurai and feudal Japan specifically, but also more generally a world in which deeply ingrained traditions, codes, principles, and expectations feebly prop up a global system of unnecessary inequality, hardship, and death. This is in fact a tragedy, one subtly but strongly condemning the politics that would require a person to sacrifice their ideal life in service to something that they don't believe in. With that focus firmly in mind, Yamada and co-writer Asama Yoshitaka developed a screenplay that in and of itself is spellbinding. Every character, every line of dialogue, and every scene bears enormous weight and meaning as the narrative advances, a saga as utterly compelling as some off the very best movies I've ever seen. To my absolute pleasure that gravity extends to all other facets in turn, if not in how the story is told then in how the production is shaped to support that story, and the result is a piece so entrancing that I found myself incapable of tearing my eyes away.
As viewers came to anticipate from the genre decades before, the filming locations are beautiful, and the sets no less so in their fantastic detail. Even the lighting receives welcome, gratifying consideration, nevermind the costume design, hair, or makeup. Tomita Isao's music largely stays in the background, yet as it increasingly comes to the fore it is a tremendous complement that lends superbly to the tense undercurrents throughout these two hours. The cast is exceptional, demonstrating marvelous nuanced range and emotional depth, and while this applies to all it goes primarily for Miyazawa Rie and above all Sanada Hiroyuki. The comparatively muted tenor of the proceedings remains intact, but Sanada delicately pierces that tone with reserved expressiveness that betrays the difficult feelings underlying his character and his journey, and I am altogether stunned. This is to say nothing of sharp sound design, cinematography, or editing, all realizing the feature with utmost skill, but as much as anything I'm quite taken with Yamada's direction. Even as a layperson I can appreciate the difficulty of guiding actors, commanding all the moving parts of a production, and molding a tale with thoughts of fostering a particular tone, theme, or solemnity. Yamada does all this with magnificent grace and polish, facilitating the same excellence from his cast and crew, and I can't help but think of Kurosawa with his infamous perfectionism, for 'The twilight samurai' is marked with that same shrewd refinement.
I anticipated enjoying this title, but very plainly it's far better than I ever could have hoped. Having achieved a bounty of awards and major praise one supposes good things of it, and nevertheless it's always a small surprise to see another samurai flick that is as wholly stupendous as esteemed paragons of the 50s, 60s, and 70s, with round quality matching what we were treated to from some of the most legendary filmmakers. I couldn't be happier with how terrific 'The twilight samurai' is, and very simply this demands viewership. This is something that's worth going out of your way to see, and I can only give it my very highest, heartiest, and most enthusiastic recommendation!
Kappa (1994)
Quite formulaic, but still duly enjoyable, earnest, and satisfying
We've seen this movie before - a figure in the present day tells a story in a flashback of events that transpired in their youth: strange goings-on around town, a wise elder, know-nothing adults, bullying peers, and a put-upon kid who has an encounter with some creature. There are no major surprises here as every beat and idea is familiar, and all that's left is for the details that will round out the narrative. This is no inherent mark against 'Kappa,' only an indication of what to expect, though with that said, exactly how much one is open to such works will inform how much you enjoy this one. For my part I think it's a swell film that stands well on its own merits, though there's nothing about it to make a huge impression or demand viewership.
The picture gets a tad heavy-handed at points in one way or another, whether that be in regards to kitsch, sentimentality, some acting that leans a little too hard into a given vibe, the direction, or treatment of themes or specific beats. Suetani Masumi's screenplay really is nearly a carbon copy of other titles that have operated in the same space, so form your expectations accordingly as that reliance on formula can sometimes be a bit overbearing. Still, even all these together are not substantial detractions, and say what one will about 'Kappa' otherwise, it's pretty well made by the standards of the early to mid 90s. The filming locations are lovely, and the sets gorgeous; the production design and art direction are solid. Practical effects, including the creatures, and even the special effects look great. Kaneko Takahiro's music is fine complement, including the nice closing song, and the cinematography and editing are fairly sharp. While some odds and ends of the writing, acting, and direction are better than others, more than not all involved made capable contributions, and Ishii Tatsuya created an enjoyable, earnest, satisfying feature.
Maybe 'Kappa' would leave more of a mark if it weren't so recognizable, and maybe I'd be more enthusiastic; by this measure it's possible I'm not giving it all its due. Nevertheless, just because my response is muted doesn't mean I don't like the end result. Even as this walks exclusively in tried and true territory it's duly compelling, meaningful, and even rewarding; it's well made, and if the worst I can say about a flick is "we've seen it before" or "it lays it on a little thick," then it's done rather well for itself. All told 'Kappa' isn't something one needs to go out of their way to see, but I'm glad I took the time to watch, and I'd give it a soft recommendation for anyone who is seeking a relatively light drama. Not every movie needs to be a revelation, and as this one plays to the same strengths that many others have, it's all it needs to be to provide a good time.