The Lady and the Beard (1931)

*** (Worth seeing)

Directed by Yasujirô Ozu

Written by Komatsu Kitamura (book) and Ozu

With Tokihiko Okada, Hiroko Kawasaki, Chôko Iida

In this lightweight entry to Ozu’s filmography Kiichi Okajima (Tokihiko Okada) plays a skilled kendo champion who struggles to find his place in a rapidly modernised (as in westernised) Japan. For being shot in such a short time, this is still pretty well made and entertaining. During the last third Ozu packs a bit too many plot points, disrupting an otherwise quite simple plot line. Worthwhile, but should not be a priority watch.

Baduk (1992)

*** (Worth seeing)

Directed by Majid Majidi

Written by Majid Majidi, Seyed Mehdi Shojai

With Norahmad Barahoi, Hossein Hajian, Mohammad Kasebi

Baduk starts out somewhere in the countryside in the Sistan and Baluchestan Province in Southeast Iran. The choice of location is an interesting one, considering Balochistan is a somewhat controversial and politically infected topic, due to separatist movements both in Iran and Pakistan. This is the poorest region in the country, which certainly won’t come as a surprise to anyone who has just seen this specific film.

After the father of Jafar and Jamal is killed in an accident, the siblings are kidnapped and sold into slavery. Jafar becomes a “baduk”, a Persian term for children who are forced to perform smuggling tasks for their owners. Jamal, being a young girl in beautiful clothes, is sold to a rich Saudi man. The young boy sees it as his God given mission to reunite with his sister and save here from an appalling destiny.

This was the writing and directorial debut of renowned Iranian director Majid Majidi, which one might not have guessed after watching it. More known for his religious visuals and humanistic storytelling, Baduk is neither beautiful nor humanistic. On the opposite; it is crude, gritty, highly political and deeply pessimistic. It was also quite controversial at its release, not only because of the touchy Balochistan topic, but also for its quite graphic portrayal of the strangling of an adolescent boy.

I can’t help but wonder if this is the kind of themes Majidi really planned to make films about, but changed his path after the film was faced with so much criticism, or if he just experienced a change of heart. After all, his latter, more religious films feel as, if not more, personal than this one. No matter what, he clearly knows what he wants to say and do here. However, Baduk is not entirely successful, and oftentimes one wouldn’t have guessed what quality was to come from this filmmaker.

Not only suffering from specific technical problems, like mediocre sound production and choppy editing, there are also a lot of problems in the script itself. Though this film has a clearly defined protagonist, whose experiences we are witnessing, Majidi time to time throws in scenes with other characters; scenes which he probably deems important to keep the story moving forward. It can be adults making phone calls or Jafar’s friends discussing important topics with their owner. This can obviously be seen regularly in more mainstream cinema, but has no place in a film of this kind.

The choice of Arabic speaking Saudis could perhaps also be considered somewhat problematic, keeping in mind the long heated conflict between the nations of Iran and Saudi Arabia. The only Saudis to appear in this film are the ones who are interesting in buying young girls to engage with as playmates. We also hear a man stating that “Saudis really like young girls”. I feel this is a way of presenting the issue of trafficking of young girls as an external, i.e. Saudi threat, rather than an internal, i.e. national one.

One of the more prominent characters is a young Pakistani boy, Noredin, also a baduk. He assists Jafar in trying to rescue his sister and is very sympathetically portrayed. There are also some scenes that unmistakably show the Iranian authorities in a not-so graceful manner, which always makes me wonder how exactly the Iranian censorship laws are phrased.

All in all, Baduk is worth seeing, but if you decide to skip it, you wouldn’t miss anything important. It is well shot, be it unpolished at times, but suffers from mainstream conventions and sub-par production values.

 

The Zoo (1967)

**** (A must-see)

Directed by Satyajit Ray

Written by Saradindu Bandopadhyay, Saradindu Bandopadhyay, and Ray

With Uttam Kumar, Kalipada Chakraborty, Nripati Chatterjee

Byomkesh Bakshi, a detective, is hired by a rich man to investigate the name of an actress appeared in a movie decades ago, who has eloped ever since. The case became complicated when the rich man is murdered by someone for that.

I went through quite an effort to be able to see this in acceptable condition (whatever you do, don’t buy the Angel DVD) and let me say this; it was so worth it. The Zoo, also known by its Bengali title Chiriyakhana and based on the popular Byomkesh Bakshi franchise, is not the bomb it’s sometimes referenced to be. I actually found it really, really good. What can you say? Never doubt the master.

This is an old school detective story without flashy car chases, fist fights and all other cliches you might have grown tired of over the years. Think Poiroit, but masterfully crafted (the mise en scène is stellar). Uttam Kumar, whom you might have seen in another Ray film, Nayak: The Hero, is wonderful as our protagonist Byomkeh Bakshi.

There is an overly silly episode where Bakshi disguises himself as a Japanese gentleman to infiltrate the garden where our film takes place. It’s not necessarily distasteful in any apparent way, just plain silly, so I’m letting that pass.

If you in some way get your hands on this underseen Ray piece, see it.

 

Deep River (1995)

**** (A must-see)

Directed by Kei Kumai

Written by Shusaku Endo and Kumai

With Kumiko Akiyoshi, Eiji Okuda, Hisashi Igawa, Toshiro Mifune and Kyoko Kagawa

In Deep River (Fukai kawa), the story follows three Japanese citizens on a pilgrimage to India. They all have their ve ry own special reasons for making the long journey to Varanasi, the holiest of Hinduism’s seven holy cities, sitting on the banks of the river Ganges.

The establishing shots are of rural India, with the second one perhaps providing us with most information. In the foreground are herders performing their daily work. In the background is nature, with its forest and mountains. In the middleground is a bus, the only sign of modern life.

After four such shots, the director cuts into the bus to introduce the passengers it is transporting, but only in visual terms. Three similar exterior shots are once again used before dialogue enters this picture, consisting of an older man merely stating that what he sees is beautiful and reminds him of a Japan of old and what he probably recalls as a simpler way of life. An evening shot tells us the bus journey has been a long and tiring one.

Director Kei Kumai introduces the past of our three main characters simply by using flashbacks, all of them distinctly structured in a linear fashion.

1. Isobe’s flashback (Hisashi Igawa)

The camera closes in on a man, probably in his sixties. We hear the voice of woman. “Look for me. Promise me. Promise me”. We are then shown a hospital, then a number of CT scans. We learn that Isobe’s wife is terminally ill and only has a few months two live. He hasn’t got the heart to tell his wife (Kyoko Kagawa), but she clearly understands what is going on. Things move quite rapidly and the wife passes away. The moment before death, she tells Isobe she is certain she will be born again, and that she wants him to come look for her. The final shot of this flashback is at her funeral, where Isobe finds his wife’s notebook, telling him how to handle the laundry, leading Isobe to cry out at her portrait, reprimanding her for fleeing her house duties.

2. Mitsuko’s flashback (Kumiko Akiyoshi)

There is a lot going on in this one. Mitsuko recalls her college life, where she was a bit of a charmer and also a heart-breaker. To her, love is a game, and things go very wrong during a romance with what is referred to as a “true believer”, meaning a Christian. He is apparently nervous and lacks experience, but after getting him drunk they have sex at her place. After a short-time flirt and physical relationship, she confesses he was just one of many men to her, which breaks his heart. A few years later she has entered marriage as a housewife, and she learns that the boy, Otsu, has become a priest in France, and the former couple meet up in Lyon, where he resides in a monastery. Otsu (Eiji Okuda) denies that he decided to become a priest due to the trauma caused by her. He also tells her of his problems at church, stating that the Europeans are narrow-minded, thinking god and evil are opposites, and that voicing his opinion has caused him some problems with the church.

3. Yagusi’s flashback (Yôichi Numata)

Now this is visually notable. We are witnessing what is clearly World War Two, and it wouldn’t be unlikely that the geographic setting is in fact India. It is notable since it’s filmed in black and white and in a docudrama-like way, a clear contrast to the rest of the film. I’m actually nore sure if this is actual film footage from an early war film starring this same actor (I was thinking it might be Listen to the Voices of the Sea from 1950), but I have no idea. He has come to India to pray for his old comrade (Toshirô Mifune), who saves his life during the war, and has since passed away. This was legendary actor Mifune’s last role.

Deep River is a true delight and a must-see for all whose heart beats for Japanese cinema. This story is splendidly adapted and directed by then 66 year old director Kei Kumai. As mentioned, it boasts not only legendary actor Toshirô Mifune but also Kyoko Kagawa, who worked with both Ozu and Kurosawa. The ensemble is stellar overall, with renowned actors getting time and space to do what they do best.

There is one particularly striking scene, where Hisashi Igawa’s character comes to small village to find his reincarnated wife. Where most movies would have taken a wrong turn, Kumai tells it like it is. Isobe more and more realizes the village’s inhabitants do not understand him (since they do not speak English) and he quickly becomes an attraction for the villagers, leaving without any results. It’s very dark, but also so very gently handled.

The people of India as treated with immense respect, and so are their religious beliefs. The same goes for Europe and Europeans, and considering the journey Otsu follows during these two hours, his comments about Europeans or Christians clearly have little to with Kumai’s own thoughts about them.

I could finish this review off by stating one is either a Scream of the Ants kind of guy, or a Deep River kind of guy, but I could just as quickly kill that same thesis by stating that I enjoyed them both. However, the connections are obvious, with both films contemplating different religious systems and their affect on its followers, both follow wounded souls, foreigners on a pilgrimage to Ganges, the holy river. And both films ends up with a dip in that same river. Their attitudes to what they portray and thoughts on spirituality differs immensely, however, and Mohsen Mahmalbahf and Kei Kumai couldn’t have handled these topics more differently.

As Tears Go By (1988)

**** (A must-see)

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai

Written by Jeffrey Lau and Wong

With Andy Lau, Maggie Cheung, Jacky Cheung

After writing a bunch of films, Wong Kar-Wai got to direct his own script for the first time in 1988. The main pair in this crime flick, Andy Lau and Maggie Cheung, would later become regulars in the directors filmography. The story starts out with Wah (Lau), still half a sleep, receiving a phone call from his aunt, who informs him of a cousin unknown to him. The cousin, Ngor (Cheung) is ill and has left her home on Lantau Island to get treatment in the city. The two are having a hard time bonding, and harder it gets, when Wah comes home drunk and hostile after breaking up with his girlfriend after an argument about an abortion.

Things change when Wah, a gangster as he is, one night comes home injured after a restaurant fight, and sexual tension occurs. A third character has already been introduced when this is all happening, and that is one of Wah’s two younger brothers, Fly (Jackie Cheung). This daredevil of a brother is in debt over his head and in a not so thought-through scheme to win it all back he loses even more in a game of snooker and has to flee the area with his friend, Site (Ronald Wong). The failed escape attempt visually echoes a very similar scene from one of Wong’s later works, Chungking Express, and is truly elegant. The story basically builds into a conflict of interest for Wah, who cares a lot for Ngor, but knows he has a responsibility to take care of his younger brother, who is brutally assaulted, leading Ngor to move out of the apartment.

What follows is a downward spiral in the criminal underworld, all craftily built up by the Hong Kong master filmmaker.

One could not miss that this is a work of the to-be superstar director, since his fingerprint is all over it, be it color tones, time-lapse photography, beautiful shots of neon lights, the cast etc. That said, this is still very different from all his later works, and the jump he made from this one to his next feature, Days of Being Wild, is certainly a huge one. While the latter mentioned is stylistically completely comparable to his later works, like Chungking Express, In the Mood for Love and Happy Together, As Tears Go By feels nothing like them. It is all still very good, well shot and entertaining. It’s just… different. Or perhaps one should say: more mainstream (storytelling-wise, that is). Linear. Wong basically builds on the Hong Kong action genre and adds his own flavour to it.

The entire film is unquestionably striking in visual terms, and Wong shows his talent through many visual details. One illustrative example is the use of the narrow entrance to the triad’s nest. Not only used to frame the figure of a wounded Fly slowly limping away from danger, in the next cut he uses that same opening to show quite a large number of thugs having to exit one by one, slowing down their hunt considerably. And finally, out come the mafiosos themselves, arguing between each other.

Few directors know how to utilise music as well as Wong, and As Tears Go By is no exception. There are several examples, but the most memorable and notable is the way in which he uses a Cantonese cover of Take My Breath Away, originally by Italian DJ Giorgio Moroder. I know some consider it a bit too much, perhaps even cheesy, but I really like it. I like filmmakers who believe in what they do and do it all the way and in the right hands, cheesiness can also be brilliance.

One weakness I should probably mention is how the brother, Fly, is portrayed. Sometimes I can’t help feeling he’s a bit over the top and a few attempts at comedy feel more like a Jackie Chan movie than anything else. On the other hand I can see and appreciate what Wong was going for, contrasting these scenes to what comes later. Still though, Fly could have been handled in a different way.

Having now seen all films directed by Wong, I do not agree this is to be considered a lesser film by him and certainly not the weakest in his repertoire (that would likely his 2013 Yip Man biopic The Grandmaster). It is for sure not on par with his masterpieces, but still a lot better than most of what you’ll come across and a given to add to your watchlist, if you haven’t already done so.

The Postman Fights Back (1982)

*** (Worth seeing)

Directed by Ronny Yu

Written by Kiu-Ying Chan, Kang Chien Chiu and Siu Fung Koo

With Ka-Yan Leung, Cherie Chung and Yun-Fat Chow

In this early Chow Yun-Fat feature, four very different men are on a mission to transport some top secret goods to rebels in the Laoma pass. The backdrop is the years following the 1911 revolution and the ongoing conflict between the nationalist rebels led by Sun Yat-Sen (here only referred to as Dr. Sun), and warlords in cahoots with Yuan Shikai, the first president of the republic. One warlord not yet on the side of Yuan is Zhao Long. This is where our gang of four come into play. They are hired by Hu (Eddy Ko Hung) to deliver some undefined goods to the mountain pass and for this they are compensated in gold, on the premise that they never open the containers in question and burn them if they risk falling into wrong hands.

As said, the group consists of four men:

• Ma (Leung Kar-Yan), the postman the film title alludes to. He is perhaps not the best at his work, but is portrayed as an honest man who doesn’t get the appreciation he feels he deserves. We learn that his pay is low and his job is at risk, considering the wide expansion of the railway network.
• Yao Jie (Yuen Yat-Choh), small-time pickpocket and long friend of Ma.
• Fu (Chow Yun-Fat), conman, gambler and somewhat of a martial arts expert.
• Bu (Fan Mui-sang), explosives expert.

 

Along come two women:

• Guihwa (Cherie Chung Cho-hung), a young girl whose sister has been sold into slavery.
• Miss Li (Guk Ching-suk), whom the band saves from bandits, and later turns out to be part of Sun Yat-Sen’s outfit.

This may be an early entry in Chow’s filmography, but the charisma of this guy is apparent as soon as he enters the frame. Overall, this is a decent Hong Kong flick with all that comes with it, but one perhaps fitting phrase would be “too many cooks spoil the broth”. The Postman Fights Back has at least four different writers (one of them being director Ronnie Yu) and it shows. There are a number of plot devices that end up unused or unclear. I can only guess the reason for this but I wouldn’t be shocked if the explanation is something along the lines of “that’s enough of that, let’s move onto some action”. For it is quite obvious the action is why this film was even made and that is where the true focus lies in this tongue in cheek action drama, shot in South Korea. The action scenes I would call above average, but not necessarily good. They are innovative, but technically unimpressive. The inventiveness is apparent both in idea and in idea (fighters standing on the back of their mate, next-level ninja tricks and so on) and execution (a handheld jump comes to mind). However, I feel both talent and skill is somewhat lacking. The fighting sequences are choppily edited and therefore not very stimulating for the audience. They are, on the other hand, at least somewhat entertaining from time to time, much thanks to earlier mentioned creativity.

The film shifts a bit in tone after more than an hour, when the group reach the pass. There are some quite graphical scenes of rebels being tied to a huge wooden fence and executed by a Gatling gun. What the awesome weapon turns its attention to after that is even more shocking. This is well handled by the director though, and even if this is certainly a somewhat comical flick these scenes are handled with absolute care and empathy. When all hell breaks lose between some of our protagonists and the inhabitants of the pass said care is thrown out the window though, and the world is quickly transformed into a world where there are goodies and there are baddies, and the baddies deserve the death that is coming to them. Death is never in this film portrayed as entertaining however, apart from a scene where explosives are tied to the tails of mice — and not even that scene is played out as simple joke. The final battle sequence, the face-off between our title character and our main antagonist,  Hu (Eddy Ko Hung), is genuinely entertaining and innovative. This might be one of the most bad-ass ninjas cinema has seen, as he pulls all tricks one could possibly imagine (and more). And… who knew one could win a duel to death simply by utilizing a compass? The Postman Fights Back is far from entirely successful, has a somewhat naive take on violence and conflict, but is pretty memorable and at least moderately entertaining.

Horus: Prince of the Sun (1968)

**** (A must-see)

Directed by Isao Takahata

Written by Kazuo Fukazawa

With Mikijiro Hira, Etsuko Ichihara, Eijiro Tono

In 1968 the then 33-year old director Isao Takahata got to release his first animated feature film. It was a huge flop and got Takahata demoted by his pro

duction company Toei Animation. This fact tells us more about the studio climate at the time, rather than anything about the quality of the film, which is a true gem.

In the opening sequence, wonderfully directed, the young Horus faces off a large amount of wolves, swinging his axe towards them. While fending off said wolves, Horus wakes a stone giant, from whose shoulder he pulls out an ancient sword. This sword, the giant Mogue explains, is an ancient sword; sword of the sun. If this sword is reforged, Horus will be Prince of the Sun. After the opening credits, accompanied by a beautiful song, Horus is told by his dying father to join the people in the village they once fled.

On the journey to his old village, Horus and his friend, a bear cub, get separated and our protagonist meets Grunwald for the first time. Grunwald is the demon that once destroyed Horus’ village and the one who caused his father to flee long ago. The story evolves into a quite timeless tale of the path to adulthood and the fight for what is right.

There is much in Prince of the Sun is brilliant and innovate. A lot that came after, like Studio Ghibli, Akira and so on has a lot to thank this film for. One has to remember, that before this, anime as we know it did not exist. Before this, animated films were, both in Japan and in the US, directly targeted toward children. This film is clearly aimed at a more mature audience. It is also a true auteur anime, in a way we now see as a given when it comes to anime (Miyazaki, Shinkai, Rintaro, Kon etc). For even if Takahata is known is Japan as the director who doesn’t draw (he was not a trained animator), his fingerprint is in every frame. The drawings are made to look like camera lenses, which adds much more life to the image than anything Disney ever made. The “camera” pans, people walk directly in front of it, run in and out of the frame and so on. You won’t see anything similar in Disney films, not even today, but in anime you see it regularly after this premiered.

Like in many later anime films, including the works of Studio Ghibli, silence is used to add a certain calmness and maturity. A lot of skilled animators were involved in making this, including a young Hayao Miyazaki, who forced his way into the project. Some characters are designed by him, and it shows.

Prince of the Sun was originally intended by Takahata to be about the Ainu people of Hokkaido, and is based on an Ainu tale. Toei wouldn’t let this happen however, since it was a touchy topic at the time and they felt it would hurt the film’s success. Takahata accepted this, but kept as much as he could without getting it forcefully removed, like the clothing and the general story. The story was moved to Europe, somewhere in Scandinavia or Russia (we don’t know).

Takahata was also forced to include a few cute animals to the story, a Western touch to increase the possibility for Toei to sell it to a Western audience, which would mean great profit. These animals were a bear, a squirrel and an owl.

The film took longer to make than originally intended, and also cost more money than its budget originally allowed. As a result a few important battle scenes were never drawn. As a solution, Takahata asked animator Miyazaki to draw stills of these scenes, which were added to the film and used in a, for its time, quite innovative way. This is a trick that is now frequently seen in low budget anime films or TV series.

This film would no doubt have been even better if they had gone with the originally intended Ainu setting and without the problematic studio interference. Still, this is a true gem and the source of what was later to become the hugely successful anime movement. This is also still today one of the frame-tightest animes ever made. A true must-see.

Jamaica Inn (1939)

*** (Worth seeing)

Directed by Alfred Hitchcock

Written by Sidney Gilliat and Joan Harrison

With Charles Laughton, Horace Hodges and Maureen O’Hara

Perhaps not one of the more famous works by Hitchcock, this period piece, set in Cornwall in the early eighteen hundreds, is well on par with such films. The by far most memorable performance is achieved by Charles Laughton, who plays a corrupt official engineering shipwrecks and making it rich on the goods from the ships.

All pretty conventionally told but well shot, this is well worth seeing, but not essential viewing in any way.

A Star Athlete (1937)

*** (Worth seeing)

Directed by Hiroshi Shimizu

Written by Masao Arata and Tobei Kujiraya

With Shûji Sano, Shin’ichi Himori and Toshiaki Konoe

Hiroshi Shimizu said himself that some of the movies he made he had to make, so that the studio would allow him to make movies that were truly his own. Forced to make a film to boost the war effort, with his human touch, Shimizu more or less makes the army a side topic in this lighthearted “comedy” flick.

The plot is generally not the focus of the works of Shimizu. The same goes for The Star Athlete, which is basically structured around a four or five scenes. As goes for all films seen by this director, the direction is a true delight, with excellent tracking shots and use of real location.

Legendary actor Chishu Ryu, who appeared in almost every work by Ozu, also collaborated many times with Shimizu. Here he stars as one of the leads. Going through the works of this director, it’s impossible not to consider him on par with the some of the best of his generation.

The Munekata Sisters (1950)

**** (A must-see)

Directed by Yasujiro Ozu

Written by Kogo Noda, Jiro Osaragi, and Ozu

With Kinuyo Tanaka, Hideko Takamine, Ken Uehara and Chishu Ryu

Traditionalism versus modernity, true feelings versus obligations, family and marriage. For those familiar with Ozu, no surprises there. Even if he obviously changed over the years, the core never really did. But why would it? Ozu made wonderful movies and kept doing so until his death. This is yet another of such wonderful movies.

Ozu made this after Late Spring, and before Early Summer. Perhaps that is the reason so many seem to have forgotten this excellent work of art. While not as perfect as some of his true masterpieces, this is still better than most famous director’s best works. And some moments are just as memorable as those from earlier mentioned masterpieces.