Audition (1999) | Sympathy for the Devil

Audition reads much like an anime, as in such brilliantly-contructed, dreamlike sequences beginning with protagonist Shigeharu's (Ishibashi Ryo) waking up in the hotel room the morning of his marriage proposal and continuing when after drinking from the bewitched liquor bottle, he collapses backwards in a soft, slow-motion on and into the carpet.

In this movie-within-a-movie-within-a-movie structure, these actions serve as bookends, post signs around which the dreams, fantasies, and dark fears that manifest in whirlwind fashion gain incremental meaning and depth when such convolution could easily have devolved into a confused, labyrinthine mess. Miike's genius is evident, in that adapting Murakami Ryu's short story, he succeeds wildly in transposing the literary form to the screen with deft pacing and the clever tying together of images that drives the story forward towards the clarity of denouement.

The ride there is dark, obviously so in light of the barbarous culminating scene of torturous cruelty which serves to underscore the horrors of child abuse underlying the main character-cum-aggressor Asami's (Shiina Eihi) back story. It's a classic case of the abusee becoming the abuser. For all its extreme nature --the scene is iconic in the genre of J-horror-- strangely, somehow there is sympathy built in here for her somewhere.

Of note: Murakami's book was rereleased in January of this year.

dir Miike Takashi

Audition trailer:

Tokyo! (2008) | The Triptych for Japanophiles Short of Attention

A triptych by design, Tokyo! has much to offer lovers of the short film format. Michel Gondry supplies his typical, imaginative flair in Interior Design, though not before fleshing out a multilayered, humanistic story enlivened by interesting characters in intimate if not strained relationships. Not least of these is lead Hiroko (Fujitani Ayako), who's inner dialogue plays out-loud as narration, and who becomes the locus of the to-be-expected Gondry quirkiness, an element which works suitably well in the J-pop genre, known for working this type of mind-expanded premise.

In Leos Carax' installment Merde, Denis Lavant turns in an committed performance as a grenade wielding, leprechaun-like creature inhabiting the Tokyo sewer system and striking fear into the hearts of the citizenry. In that Carax interjects reality-style, man-on-the-street reporting and innovative 3 and 4 split screens, he keeps the movie appealing, almost making up for times such as the prolonged, droll, trilingual translation. Past its shortcomings, the film poses acerbic commentary on ideas surrounding immigrants in Japanese society as well as the relationship between tv news media to city dwellers and how the former influences the way reality is perceived and experienced by the latter.

Shaking Tokyo concerns itself with what happens when hikikomori --extremly self-isolating hermit types-- fall in love. Director Bong Joon Ho's vision plays out quite like a Murakami short story, what with the symbolic timing of the earthquakes that occur, the first one fittingly when the man, (Kagawa Teruyuki), first locks eyes with a garter-wearing pizza-delivery girl (Aoi Yu), whose body is imprinted with mysterious, tattoo-like buttons. The story steadily builds to a crescendo of increasing metaphoric imagery and symbolic action, from the man venturing out for the first time in 11 years, to the strange collective behavior of the Tokyo populace, to of course the raison d'aitre of the girl's tattoo buttons. The appearance of Takenaka Naoto as the 2nd pizza delivery guy is an added treat.

Ho exhibits skillful use of soundtrack to underscore and accentuate his visual portion, whereas Gondry sometimes veers towards the purely visual, to beautiful if slightly gimmicky effect. Whereas the first and last films share unusual views of the Tokyo streets --Shaking Tokyo's robot pizza delivery man in one such shot an unexpected highlight-- the middle piece deals decisively more with the slimy underbelly of the city in terms of physical space. Though Merde buries its human elements with layers of cynical caricature and parody, Interior Design and Shaking Tokyo confront the human soul more directly, if not any less fantastically. Though one might want more movie from the other two, only Merde leaves room for a sequel.

Tokyo! official site.

Tokyo! trailer:

El Espinazo del Diablo (2001) | Like Casper, but Not So Friendly

It is refreshing to find Marisa Paredes playing Carmen, the stern-but-caring amputee headmistress of an all-boys orphanage living in civil-war torn Spain. This is, after all, an El Deseo production, made immediately apparent with the stylized credits, the accompanying images starting out blurry, deferring definition until slowly are revealed fetuses floating preserved in apothecary jars, one of these poor souls sporting the spine-shaped vertebrae of the film's title.

Soon after the arrival of child Carlos (Fernando Tielve), whose father has been killed unbeknownst to him on the front, the plot begins to thicken. He starts off bumping heads with bully Jaime (Íñigo Garcés), whom he eventually befriends, as they face the question of mystery-boy Santi's (Junio Valverde) disappearance and the presence of a ghost named "the one who sighs." The prepubescent odd couple endearingly resolve the all the film's quandaries, which doesn't go without tons of tragic explosions and the total breakdown of the established social structures, all making for a very satisfying view.

A pretty good movie throughout, El Espinazo is almost prerequisite viewing for the slightly under-whelming del Toro production El Orfanato (2007, directed by Juan Antonio Bayona). Both movies prominently feature children players as hero-protagonists. Both films also deal with the character in absentia of a boy-child ghost (Santi in Espinazo vs. Tomás in El Orfanato). Like spooky, Casper-the-friendly-ghost presences, they are source for much of both films' suspense and drama.

Tangentially noteworthy is the shared setting of war between El Espinazo del Diablo and Oscar-fetching El Laberinto del Fauno (2006, directed by del Toro). It's in the latter film that the fantastic elements of the story encroach more strongly onto the grim depiction of reality and in both serve as a counterpoint to the desperate acts these settings of war cause their players to take.

Mostly, El Espinazo sheds light on del Toro's past cinematic technical genius, showing his deft craftsmanship and an ability to create entire dreamscape realities seemingly effortlessly. It's no wonder his is one of those hot, buzzword names. A gore-fest, no, but still, El Espinazo del Diablo weaves together nuanced, thoughtful elements of suspense into a compelling, engrossing work.

dir Guillermo del Toro
aka The Devil's Backbone

El Espinazo del Diablo official site

Nice trailer (Spanish with English subtitles):

La Mala Educación (2004) | From Catholic School To Casting Couch

In La Mala Educación, Almodóvar portrays the lives of a handful of characters linked by a tangled past revisited intermittently through the dreamlike world of the protagonists as children. These scenes, infused with Catholicism drawn from the director's own background and set in a parochial all-boy boarding school, paint a soft-focus, romantic story of gay-first-love between Ignacio (Nacho Perez) and Enrique (Raúl García Forneiro) . This idyllic landscape of memory becomes marred by headmaster priest Padre Manolo (Daniel Giménez Cacho), who takes a strong liking to Ignacio, who's cherubic voice makes him a favorite of the cleric staff. The romance that develops between the two tikes and the ensuing jealous retaliation of the headmaster are both treated dramatically, save the latter comes across much more disturbingly.

Upon opening, the film's credits marry the titles and score in a collage that recalls the great Alfred Hitchcock. The resonance is fitting as the element of suspense becomes a finely wielded component managed deftly, which is a good thing, Pedro having claimed the film to be his tribute to Billy Wilder's Double Indemnity (1944), the all-time classic Noir in which the con man gets conned by the beautiful femme fatale.

In Almódovar's take we see the role originally enshrined by Barbara Stanwyck finding its parallel in the character Zahara, a tranvestí played by Gabriel García Bernal. Released concurrently to Bernal's other star-vehicle The Motorcycle Diaries (2004), La Mala Educación showcases him in his most risqué role since Y Tu Mamá También (2001), a challenge he tackles whole heartedly.




Unavoidable comparisons to Almodóvar's La Ley del Deseo (1987) are warranted. In that film, Carmen Maura plays Tina Quintero, a transsexual who also confronts past abuse at the hands of Church clergy when she was a young boy. As stated by Pedro on Educación's official web site "Carmen['s character] is a foreshadow of Zahara." In that at its heart La Ley del Deseo also features a film/play-write accosted by a psycho makes it a further compelling view, not to mention the hot, gay scenes featuring a young and cute Antonio Banderas.

In La Mala Educación, Almodóvar has mostly shed his youthful tendency to meander. He weaves together a tight, complex plot in which the story itself unfolds as its text is written and where the leads reenact their own purported pasts for the film-within-the-film. A self-reflective look at movie making --including the trap of the casting couch-- reveals Pedro is the consummate auteur and enfant terrible that he always was and shall continue to be.

It should be noted that drag queen Paquito (Javier Cámara) steals the show upon first appearance.

aka Bad Education
dir Pedro Almodóvar

Check out:
Sony Pictures Bad Education official website.
La versión en Español aquí.

La Mala Educación teaser trailer:

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Y Tu Mamá También (2001)

dir Alfonso Cuarón

Much like the hormonally and sexually charged relationship between Julio (Gabriel García Bernal), Tenoch (Diego Luna), and Ana (Ana López), the film itself echoes the constant fits and starts that take place as the boys scheme game for pussy, inadvertently turning to each other. Though in the end it was great to finally see Julio and Tenoch kiss --downright hot, actually-- it seems the film winds a tedious path just to make it to this pivotal point. In this base sense, Y Tu Mamá También is an elaborately executed gay-for-pay flick. What with all the explicit sex talk between the principles --on and on and on, just do it already!-- and the flashes of bushy boys and not-so-bushy girls, the movie's definitely got one thing on its mind.

Fully considered though, Y Tu Mamá También is a coming of age story of two friends in which an older, scorned woman --the object of both boys' desires-- becomes the catalyst of an underlying sexual tension between them that, having been brought to the fore, comes to disintegrate their friendship. Though it recalls the great road-trip, buddy-pic treatise of Kerouac descent, those considerations often take a back seat to the film's other prescient drivers: for Tenoch and Julio we're seeing the yearnings of the flesh taking shape as naive, post-adolescent conquest and its attending, unanticipated emotional repercussions, while for Ana it materializes as revenge-fucking --payback to an unfaithful spouse-- coinciding with an opening up of self-discovery which belies an untold secret she carries, leading to a final reveal.

The film strives to dig deep to reveal truth beneath its depiction of the materialistic, mundane surroundings and circumstances of its characters. Despite achieving moments of sheer serendipitous coincidence and being peppered with allegories throughout, even when taken together with the warmth shared by the three principles, the work still resounds oddly dry, with unmet desires, and unquenched thirsts.

Y Tu Mamá También trailer:

A Snake of June (2002)

aka Rokugatsu no Hebi
dir Tsukamoto Shinya

This story concerns beautiful, repressed, married woman Tatsumi Rinko (Kurosawa Asuka). Spied upon by freaky Iguchi (Tsukamoto Shinya) who takes candid pictures in states of undress or masturbation. Unfulfilled by her husband Shigehiko (Kohtari Yuji) who falls asleep on the recliner seat each night, and afraid the photos will be revealed, she succumbs to the blackmailer's demands, a succession of sexualized tasks to be carried out in public with Iguchi at the helm communicating wirelessly. Rinko's social limits are pushed, particularly when forced to wear a dangerously short skirt at the mall with no panties on. Later, when coerced to shop for phallic veggies, she is wearing a remote control vibrator Iguchi activates at will. This treatment unexpectedly brings up her long held-back desires which come rushing to the fore unfettered.

Tsukamoto's grainy, blueish black and white, noir-feeling piece is quite reminiscent of Tetsuo (1989), not just in look but also in exploring the alienation of the individual within the urban setting, whether from others and their attending social conformity or caused by omnipresent technology and resulting dehumanizing modern lifestyle. Whereas in Testuo,Tsukamoto intrinsically deals humanity's fears towards technology with the literal marriage of flesh and tech, A Snake in June's focus has much more to do with individual personal sexuality and how it relates to that of others.

Further adding to the Tetsuo feel is the scene when Iguchi man-handles the Shigehiko with a suddenly-sprouted, metal, penis-snake that holds Shigehiko down while, clearly deranged, he kicks and beats him over Rinko's choice not to get a mastectomy.

For all its weirdness there is a triumphant ending. Ryuka finally gets laid and we hilariously culminate with just that, a culmination.

Check out this interview with Tsukamoto Shinya from Midnight Eye.

A Snake of June trailer:

Female Prisoner #701 Scorpion (1972)

aka Joshuu 701-gô: Sasori
dir Ito Shunya



Ito Shunya's debut film, based on a successful Big Comics manga by Shinohara Toru, introduces protagonist Matsushino Nami aka Matsu (Lady Snowblood actress Kaji Meiko) during a foiled jail-house escape she attempts with pretty, petite girlfriend Yuki (Watanabe Yayoi).

In a flashback is shown how Matsu was convinced by police detective and then-boyfriend Sugimi (Natsuyagi Isao) to go undercover to infiltrate a Yakuza syndicate. Discovered off the bat, Matsu endures a gang rape before the police, deliberately delayed, bust the criminals, now with the added charges with which to stick them. In retaliation Matsu sloppily ambushes Sugimi but gains only to land in the brink for attempted murder. Subdued by the cops, she hatches a revenge plot with ever reddening backlight, her hair stop-motioning its way on end.

In prison the ominously silent Matsu finds herself pitted against the jail house snitches, Masaki (Mihara Yoko), Katagiri (Yokoyama Rie), et al., as she allies with stoic and mysterious inmate referred to as "that bitch" (Ougi Hiroko). Sexploitation unavoidably abounds with gratuitous nudity and panty shots, exemplified best when Matsu, confined to solitary, subdues hottie Kitoh (Katayama Yumiko) with apparently amazing cunnilingus.

Torturous prison punishments are devised to break Matsu down, one such instance involving a prolonged, mass dig, resulting in a prison riot precipitated by Yuki killing a guard. During the stand-off the female prisoners hilariously force sex upon the male guards being held hostage.

Soon loose in Tokyo, donning a stylish, black trench coat and wide-brimmed pimp hat, Matsu achieves icon status as she enacts her final revenge; it's tongue-bitingly good.

Female Prisoner #701 Scorpion trailer (Japanese no subtitles):

Vital (2004)

dir Tsukamoto Shinya

The working title of the film was "Dissection Film Project," if that's any indication of what to expect here.

According to Shinya, his films study the relationship between humans and Tokyo. Human existence is seen as fading, the physical existence waning while the brain/mental capacity increases. As for his need to show us dead bodies in Vital, the intention is to wake us up to the fact of being alive and real, shaking us up from our dream-state, virtual-reality, sanitized, city-dwelling existences.

Asano Tadanobu, often described as a very natural actor, plays Hiroshi, a man with no memories who struggles to come to terms with the amnesia-inducing accident that caused his lover Ryoko's (Tsukamoto Nami) death. His stoicism works well, and though brooding and in turmoil, he plays this with a reticence that makes the role very convincing.

As in The Fountain, Vital's antihero is a practitioner of science and the medical arts who engages the techniques of the field to attempt to retrieve the departed lover. Vital's Hiroshi, fatefully tasked with the dissection of his lover's body, is based on Leonardo da Vinci, who conducted dissections in order to sketch the underlying structures to the surface that is skin. With his long hair and demonstrable sketching prowess, Hiroshi unflinchingly seeks the deeper knowledge that the brutal scrutiny and systematic taking apart and drawing of the body may give.

Like with Jodie Foster's character in Contact, Hiroshi undergoes a dreamlike sequence where he is allowed to spend time with his lost love from beyond the void of death. Super-thin dancer Ryoko flexes her skills in an over-the-top, beach dance number in which she flings her body around, throwing herself forcibly and repeatedly to the sand. Several moments of visual and aural cacophony occur, quite beautifully done, with a repetitive cymbal striking reminiscent of Japanese theatre.

When cool but pretentious med-student Ikumi (Kiki), who's into sexual asphyxiation, is unable to break though to Hiroshi, she complains to the point: "What about those of us still living?"

Check out this Tsukamoto Shinya interview by Mark Shilling on Vital.

This is the trailer: