Nightfall

Sometimes you start watching a film and you just know there's a big twist ending coming. And you're pretty sure you've figured out what it is. And then the twist comes and it's totally not what you were expecting. That's awesome! And Nightfall (2012) is just such a film.

The great Nick Cheung plays an ex-con named Wang (incorrectly listed as Wong on IMDb, plus the HK disk subs I saw had Yang -- go figure) who's just done 20 years for a rape/murder he may or may not have committed. In fact, finding out whether he did it or not is one of the main objectives of the film. Then there's the brutal murder of a famous symphony conductor right after our mystery man (who hates the conductor for some reason) gets out of the joint. This comes to the attention of Detective Lam (Simon Yam), a depressed widower who lives for his job. He's going to get to the bottom of things, and the whole backstory gradually unfolds, taking us deeper and deeper until we reach the devastating denouement.

Extra points for Cheung and Yam -- seeing these guys go up against each other is pure Hong Kong film bliss. Yam is getting up there in years (he runs slowly and painfully in chase scenes), but he's still got it. Readers of this blog may have noticed I mistakenly called him "Simon Lam" a few times (I've since gone back and fixed that). I apologize; I must have been thinking of his unforgettable performance as the title character in the notorious Category III nasty Dr. Lamb (reviewed in Asia Shock).

If you like HK film, police procedurals, mysteries and don't mind a bit of ultraviolence (the opening scene is fairly brutal), you can't go wrong with Nightfall, a stylized and truly absorbing piece of film-making.

Tai Chi Hero

This was one of the first films assigned to me by Netflix -- yes, that's right folks, they're paying me to watch movies (and then enter metadata into their system; it's a part-time, freelance gig, but in these tough times I'm glad to have it).

A refreshingly upbeat, steampunk take on the period martial arts film, Tai Chi Hero (2012) is actually a sequel aka Tai Chi 2: The Hero Rises, renamed for an unsuspecting (and presumably uncaring) Western kung fu film viewership. It starts off with a lightening fast recap of the previous film -- man, those subs just fly by. For a slow reader like yours truly, it was more than a struggle to keep up!

And the pace stays pretty breathless throughout. The eponymous hero of the story is one Yang Lu Chan (1799 - 1872), famed innovator in the practice of Tai Chi (not the slow kind your Chinese grandma does in the park -- this is the quick-as-a-whip, ass-kicking variety). He gets married to bitchy yet beautiful Yu Niang (played by someone named Angelababy), and she proceeds to train him in her family's secret kung fu method. Meanwhile, her black sheep brother Zai Yang returns to the family full of secrets. He's an inventor and has created a fantastical flying machine (that apparently made a big splash in the first film).

There are numerous subplots, one in particular involving, of all people, Peter Stormare, the freaky Norwegian fellow from Fargo, here playing another heavy, a representative of the East India Company. Unfortunately, his storyline has less impact if you didn't see the first film.

If you're into Hong Kong film, watch this space; Netflix seems to be sending me HK films at a 3-1 ratio to Japanese films (sadly no Korean films -- someone else does those). As usual, I'll only be writing about the films I'd recommend (2012's The Treasure Hunter didn't do much for me, for example -- see? It ain't here). Next up: HK crime flick Nightfall.

Kurotokage

Finally got to see the 1962 version of Kurotokage (which is Japanese for "black lizard"). It's an adaptation of the infamous 1934 detective novel by Edogawa Rampo more famously interpreted six years later by Kinji Fukasaku (featuring a drag queen in the lead role).

It is the story of a beautiful master criminal, the eponymous Black Lizard (she has this tattoo … ) and her arch rival, superdetective Akechi Kogoro. It is a masterpiece of ero guro nansensu (erotic grotesque nonsense), full of twists and turns, disguises, kidnapping, extortion, human dolls and human sofas (you'll see). Saw it on Turner Classic Movies of all places, so I should give them a shout out.

The film's director, Umetsugu Inoue, used to make a lot of musicals, and while the material here is far from such fanciful fare, song and dance are nevertheless inserted into the film (thankfully in dribs and drabs). The theme song features the word kurotokage sung to a quasi-James Bond melody. The Black Lizard herself, as well as her henchmen, have a worrying tendency to lapse into dance moves at odd intervals.

Yet somehow it works. It's just so over-the-top, the screen so saturated in color,  the acting so hammy, the overall feeling so heightened that you can't help but get swept up in the nansensu. Now I understand what Fukasaku was trying to top with his version, why his film was so ridiculously campy and bizarre (and then there was that added LSD factor … ).

The cast is awesome. I was pleased to see several actors in this film who also appear in my favorite Yasuzo Masumura film, Giants and Toys, but whom I've seldom seen elsewhere. Chief among them is Hiroshi Kawaguchi who, if you've seen G&T, you'll remember as the young protagonist. OK, so he was in Masumura's first film, Kisses, and Kunio Watanabe's Chushingura and Ozu's 1959 remake of his own Floating Weeds, but I havent' seen those yet! I've got 'em, just haven't seen 'em (Japanese film is vast and deep). Perhaps I'll do a Hiroshi Kawaguchi retrospecive next …

Anyhow, Kawaguchi plays a supporting role as Black Lizard's chief operative (clearly no longer the leading man he was in the late 50s). Playing the Black Lizard herself is none other than Machiko Kyo, who everyone remembers as the noblewoman raped (?) in Rashomon. It's fun to see her here, in such a completely opposite genre, twelve years on and still stunning. Akechi Kogoro is portrayed by familiar face Minoru Oki (The Great Killing, Irezumi, Watari Ninja Boy, Yakuza Law: Lynching). And if you're particularly up on your Japanese character actors of the period, no mistaking Masao Mishima (Late Spring, Life of Oharu, Revenge, The Ceiling at Utsunomiya, Zatoichi's Pilgrimage, Harakiri, Illusion of Blood, Samurai Rebellion and on and on -- BTW, I've reviewed most of the films mentioned in this paragraph in my books).

If you're really into vintage Japanese cinema and you missed Kurotokage on TCM, I guess it's a little cruel to go on and on about it -- unless you're affiliated with one of those exclusive online film-sharing clubs, I can't imagine how you're going to see it. It's owned by Janus film (read Criterion), so perhaps they'll release it some day. Until then, we can only live in hope ...

Breaking News

What's this, yet another Johnnie To flick? What am I, curator of the Johnnie To film festival? Actually, it ain't me; GreenCine keeps sending one after another. Guess they're trying to provide me with an impromptu retrospective. And with a filmmaker this good, I hardly mind.

So I just screened Breaking News (2004), a bit of a departure from the To films I've seen heretofore, in that it seeks to lightly satirize the Hong Kong crime film genre, and even inject a bit of social commentary. This is very different from the eight or nine other To films I've seen, all of them action-packed yet generally dour affairs. He acquits himself admirably, but the story suffers from a somewhat claustrophobic location (most of the film plays out inside an apartment building) and repetition (too many cops firing down too many hallways/stairwells at the same half dozen bad guys).

That's not to say there aren't some stunning set pieces. Take the opener, for instance: Mr. To kicks things off with a seven-plus minute continuous crane take that has us peering into windows, prowling the streets, peering around corners, as a tense undercover stakeout explodes into a classic million-bullet gun battle (with some grenades thrown in for good measure).

As with all To films, the cast is strong. One guy who I think has been in every single To outing I've seen is fat, greasy character actor Lam Suet. He's a scream, always delivers. The hero here is the great Nick Cheung (Exiled, Beast Stalker, Election), and as usual, he's a maelstrom of energy as the unstoppable cop. Making things a little easier on the eyes is Kelly Chen (Infernal Affairs), playing the media-savvy police official who manipulates a hostage crisis to improve the image of the police department. She's the machiavel to balance out Nick Cheung's noble warrior.

Overall, I'd give Breaking News an A-. As usual, To gets everything right, but it would have been more fun if we could have gotten out of that damn building!

Running Out of Time

Another day, another great Johnnie To flick. This time out, it's Running Out of Time (1999) featuring Andy Lau as a master criminal/terminal case who enjoys his final days mindfucking a police detective while pursuing a revenge-oriented agenda against a criminal gang. As usual, not much on paper, but Master To works his magic and it becomes an exciting, can't look away thrill ride.

Unlike the last Johnnie To film I reviewed (scroll down), Lau isn't a homicidal maniac. Just the opposite: He goes out of his way not to hurt or endanger anyone (although he seems to -- he's full of surprises). However, he is his usual, magnetic self and you're rapt whenever he's on screen.

Running Out of Time is full of twists and turns that it would be criminal to reveal, so, as I often do, I urge you to just watch it and let it happen. If you're a fan of Hong Kong crime flicks, trust me, you won't be disappointed.

Fulltime Killer

Way back in 2001, Johnnie To made this fine Hong Kong actioner. OK, so the title's not so hot, but such is the power and talent of this filmmaker, and his cool-ass cast, that despite zero character development I was immediately sucked in.

Andy Lau is electrifying as the grinning psychopath Tok, an up-and-comer in the realm of world-class hitmen. Leading the field is the mysterious Japanese loner Ito (Takashi Sorimachi), and we get to see the handiwork of both men in elaborate set pieces that open the film. I'm no gun nut, but the use of firearms and various other incendiary devices in this film transcends standard action movie tropes, approaching something like fine art.

Also of interest to me was the blend of languages and locations. We run all over Asia, from Kuala Lumpur to Macau to Tokyo to Hong Kong to Singapore. If you're like me, and use foreign films for vicarious sight-seeing, you won't be disappointed here.

Tok is Chinese but speaks fluent Japanese, as does the two killers' mutual love interest Chin (Kelly Lin), who's actually from Taiwan. In situations where Chinese or Japanese don't apply, English is the default, and we hear quite a lot of it. I'm a language guy, so it's interesting to me to analyze just why various members of the all-Asian cast would be speaking English to one another. For example, the Hong Kong cops (like Simon Yam) speak it as a legacy from colonial days, whereas other characters do it because they simply don't speak the other's native tongue.

Anyhow, this combination of action, travelogue, and linguistic melange makes for a perfect trifecta of Asian entertainment. Good old Johnnie To -- haven't seen a stinker yet!

R.I.P. Ric Menello

Yesterday I lost a good friend, Ric Menello. I only ever met up with him three times, in Brooklyn and Manhattan, but we'd been obsessive email pals for years, ever since my first book came out in 2005. He read it and reached out to me, and I will be forever in his debt; the guy was a walking film encyclopedia, and I learned enough from him to cover several film history courses. He was a rare friend, a wonderful guy.

Ric initially made his name in the 80s, directing influential videos for Def Jam artists such as the Beastie Boys (You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party), LL Cool J (Going Back to Cali) and Danzig (Mother). More recently he collaborated with James Gray on the scripts for We Own the Night and Two Lovers (Gray was so gracious as to give him a writing credit for the latter film). As so often happens, things were looking up for Ric; 2013 was to be his year. But a dickie ticker said otherwise.

Ric and I really bonded over Japanese film. He knew everything about classic Hollywood and Eurofilm, but Japan was his particular passion. He was a big Hideo Gosha booster, and was forever enthralled by Masaki Kobayashi. I recall pining with him for the lost Kobayashi film I Will Buy You (about corruption in professional baseball), and how excited we were when we learned that Criterion will be releasing it on disk in April. We shared so many obscure yet passionate fascinations in the realm of Japanese cinema. We both were big fans of character actors like Makoto Sato and Kei Sato (no relation). We gossiped about what really went on between Hibari Misora and Kinnosuke Nakamura. We beamed with joy at the success of Tatsuya Nakadai's protegee, Koji Yakusho. It was a fucking two-man Japanese film nerd convention!

BTW, I was sitting next to Ric when I saw Tatsuya Nakadai live at the Film Forum -- one of the best nights of my life. I'll never forget it: Ric was at the head of the line outside when we got there, in front of Vernon Dobtcheff (I inadvertently insulted him by assuming he was John Neville). We got in first and sat in the front row, just a few feet from the venerable Nakadai. Ric told me to go say hi to Teruyo Nogami, Akira Kurosawa's script girl, which I did. What a night.
           
Anyhow, what do you say when you lose someone? You can never put into words what you feel and felt, all the thoughts and interactions you shared. So I'll throw it to someone else, someone I never met but who seems to have a handle on late-era Menello. Long live the Mayor of Flatbush!