Laying low

Sorry for the paucity of posts recently. I've been reading a lot and not looking at any particularly shocking films, Asian or otherwise. No, wait, I tell a lie: The Savage Innocents (1960), Nicholas Ray's eskimo saga, has some pretty shocking footage of actual polar bear and walrus hunts. That was hard to watch. (This is also the film that inspired Bob Dylan to write the song Quinn the Eskimo -- for its star, Anthony Quinn -- covered by Manfred Mann in 1968. Seeing the film clears up strange lines like "ain't my cup of meat.")

A Taxing Woman (1987), Juzo Itami's follow-up to Tampopo, starring, once again, his wife Nobuko Miyamoto and the great Tsutomu Yamazaki (the cowboy trucker in Tampopo as well as the kidnapper in Kurosawa's High & Low) wasn't what I (or anyone back in 1987) was expecting. While the previous film had been frothy, fanciful and funny, this film, about a gung-ho tax inspector and her unexpectedly complex relationship with a crooked, yakuza-related business man, is a bit long and somewhat downbeat. Fine film, just not as funny as I thought it would be. Incidentally, the real yakuza didn't take kindly to Itami's portrayal of them -- he wound up getting knifed for his efforts. True story.

Tiger Shark (1932) and Only Angels Have Wings (1939) are big, manly movies courtesy of legendary Hollywood director Howard Hawks. The former is all about the perils of the commercial fishing trade (lots of sharks!) and stars Edward G. Robinson doing a cheesy Portugese accent and falling in love with with the wrong woman. Body parts get chomped left and right in this flick, as well as a hook in the face and other instances of nautical nastiness. Only Angels Have Wings has Cary Grant as a mail courier based in Brazil (or some Brazil-like country) who, with his rag-tag gang of fliers, risks life and limb to get the mail (or whatever) to remote, mountainous, always-dangerous locations. Jean Arthur is sweet on him, his ex is Rita Hayworth (in an early and rather embarrassing performance) and his men represent a stable of great character actor talent from the period. Also, look for once-huge silent star Richard Barthelmess in a rather unrewarding role as a hated, black sheep pilot.

The Japanese word maborosi translates as phantom, vision, illusion, and also sounds like the English word morose. So with the film Maborosi (1995), we have a subtle, haunting meditation on love, loss, grief and starting over in a small Japanese fishing village. The original title is Maborosi no hikari which means something like "phantom light" -- a reference to a tale told by an old fisherman toward the end of the film. In other words, there ain't no ghosts. An arthouse slow burn, this film gets slower and slower as you go. Only the atmoshpere saves it. See what you think.

Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) isn't a Japanese film, although it's all in Japanese and stars Japanese actors. It's Paul Schrader's tribute to famed novelist Yukio Mishima (who famously committed seppuku in 1970 following a doomed political misadventure). The film follows Mishima's life while meandering in and out of stagey interpretations of several of his stories, drawing obvious parallels throughout. One reason to see it is the great Ken Ogata in the starring role. Another is Kenji Sawada (Samurai Reincarnation, Hiruko the Goblin, Happiness of the Katakuris) in one of the vignettes. If you would like to see the real Yukio Mishima in a movie, he starred as a feckless yakuza in Yasuzo Masumura's Afraid to Die (1960), did a blink-and-you'll-miss-him bit as a human doll in Kinji Fukasaku's Black Lizard (1968) and had a small role in Hideo Gosha's Tenchu (1969) wherein he ... wait for it ... commits seppuku!

Black Test Car (1962) was recently released on disk by Fantoma. It's an industrial espionage film concerning rival car companies and all the skullduggery their corporate spies get up to (like bribery, blackmail, prostitution, kidnapping, assault, you name it). Directed by one of my favorite Japanese directors, Yasuzo Masumura, this film makes a great double feature with his Giants and Toys (1958), another corporate saga, albeit a much funnier one (though still fairly dark) about the battles between three competing caramel companies.

And I have to admit I was completely charmed by My Neighbor Totoro (1988), an anime feature from Hayao Miyazaki. So much so, in fact, that I bought a copy for a neighbor's 2-year-old daughter (who was herself completely entranced). It's hard to describe: The vibe is so sweet and gentle and filled with such a genuine sense of childlike wonder. I was really surprised by the degree to which it moved an old curmudgeon like me. Go figure.

Warring Clans, Flashing Blades OUT NOW!!!

OK, it's official. My new book, Warring Clans, Flashing Blades: A Samurai Film Companion has hit the street. Order it now from Amazon.com or, better yet, demand that your local bookstore carry it. Yeah, that's the ticket -- insist, perhaps with a bit of menace in your voice, that they place a sizable order with Stone Bridge Press for this particular title. Then mention, with a certain sinister silkiness, that said purchase will help them stay in business (if they know what's good for them). A little bit of such friendly persuasion will help me and will go a long way to solidifying your reputation around the neighborhood as a formidable strongman on his way up.

So what are you waiting for? Get out there and, as the Brits say, put some stick about!

Sleepy Eyes of Death Vol. 1

Just got an advance copy of this four-disk box of samurai madness and mayhem. This is one of the finest samurai series ever (12 films starring the great Raizo Ichikawa), filled with action, intrigue and a certain cynical swagger. And best of all, the accompanying booklet features two reviews from yours truly (taken from my first book, Stray Dogs & Lone Wolves: The Samurai Film Handbook).

Raizo Ichikawa plays Nemuri Kyoshiro, a half-breed ronin who digs the ladies and has no patience with the machinations of evil men. His daddy was a renegade Portugese priest who defiled his Japanese mother in a black mass. Understandibly, he's got issues with Christianity (as well as a thick head of red hair). A homeless wanderer, he's forever winding down that windy way toward whatever labyrinthine entanglement might await. He's proud and caustic and known for his existential bon mots. Sometimes, he lets his sword do the talking ...

I really can't recommend this series enough. When I first became aware of it, only the first half-dozen installments were available (on out-of-print VHS tapes from AnimEigo). I scoured the internet to get them, it took years. Then, gradually, the rest of the series became available on gray market DVDs. (I should mention that Raizo died during the making these films, and there were a couple more made afterwards, starring a then-raw Hiroki Matsukata.) Now, at last, perhaps due in part to my efforts (?), AnimEigo has begun to release the series on DVD. I couldn't be happier.

So run, don't walk, to your online or local DVD retail outlet and scoop up this fantastic box set. You won't be disapointed.

Peppermint Candy

Director Lee Chang-dong made Peppermint Candy in 1999 and, in common with many a Korean film of the period, it positively shakes with rage. The Asian financial crisis of 1997 had had a two-fold effect: While it undeniably left many a Korean citizen in the shit financially, it opened doors for filmmakers. To quote myself in Asia Shock, "Big corporations pulled out of the movie biz, private investors came in, and a new atmosphere of creative freedom and artistic daring nurtured the birth of a new wave of phenomenal South Korean films." [p. 17-18] That's how it is in this crazy world: Turmoil leads to creativity. Remember Orson Welles' famous speech in The Third Man? "In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed -- and they produced Michaelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, five hundred years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock."

Peppermint Candy opens with the suicide of a disillusioned man (he stands before an oncoming train with predictable results). We then look on as his life flashes before his eyes ... backwards (just like they say it does in all the esoteric books). Bear in mind this is a full year before Christoper Nolan's Memento. Was something in the air, or did Nolan just steal the idea outright?

Actually, the flashback sequences only cover the last twenty years of the man's life, from 1979 to 1999, but nevertheless serve as an historical and cultural through-line for the repression and upheaval of Korean life during this period. Fresh out of high school, he's in the army, hunting down political dissidents. Then he's a cop, interrogating suspects using enhanced interrogation techniques we're all familiar with by now (hint: you're naked, handcuffed, and your head is in a bathtub full of water). Then he's a business owner, but not for long ...

And through it all, he is haunted by the memory of his first love, a sweet young thing who worked for a confectioner making ... wait for it ... peppermint candies. Because of the backwards narrative, we first encounter her on her death bed, only to meet her younger incarnation much later -- an emotionally powerful scene.

This is the second Lee Chang-dong film I've reviewed -- a link to the other review can be found here. He's a remarkable filmmaker, and I look forward to seeing more of his work.

Entrails of a Beautiful Woman

Back in 1986, Nikkatsu released a pair of notorious films, Entrails of a Virgin and Entrails of a Beautiful Woman, through their Roman X adult video label (an ignoble successor to the once-great Roman Porno line of erotic films of the '70s). I reviewed Entrails of a Virgin in Asia Shock, but never got around to screening the other one until yesterday. (I suppose it's a testament to the repellant nature of these films that one was enough to hold me for several years.)

Both films feature a plethora of sleazy sex scenes, probing the outer boundaries of anyone's concept of "softcore pornography." But what makes these films truly stand out is the presence of a "sex monster," a creature seemingly conjured by the perveted lusts of the various human characters, a hideous consequence of thier crazed rutting. In Virgin, the creature is a demon who grows ever more powerful (and tumescent) as he stalks the horny members of a photo shoot holed up in a farmhouse overnight. In the less-sexy and far more violent Beautiful Woman, it is a violated woman who becomes the beast, a six-foot hermaphroditic monstrosity seemingly turned inside out. When the big, red, gooey thing decides to defile a cruel yakuza wife, it grows a mutated member most closely resembling the baby alien from Alien (in flagrante, the little fella behaves in much the same way as he did with poor John Hurt).

I can't, in all honesty, offer any good reason to see Entrails of a Beautiful Woman. But then, who needs a good reason?

Infection

Nothing is what it seems in this low-budget, "it was all a dream ... or was it?" shocker from 2004 starring the charismatic Koichi Sato (memorable for his portrayal of deadly, real-life Shinsengumi member Hajime Saito in the previous year's When the Last Sword is Drawn).

Infection is required viewing for fledgling filmmakers looking to break into the horror genre. The hospital "location" appears to be the dingy sub-basement of some old government building, and the set designer did little to spruce it up. As it happens, the grime on the walls serves to heighten a sense of looming dread. Think about it: a dirty hospital. That's the last place you'd want to spend any time, particularly if you were sick. Using little more than lighting, lots of fake blood and viscous green goo, as well as the abilities of his talented cast, director Masayuki Ochiai (Shutter, Parasite Eve) creates an aura of claustrophobic menace in a run-down hospital where low morale, incompetence and exhaustion lead inexorably to malpractice, contagion and insanity.

Did I mention there are ghosts? A crazy old granny runs around the wards seeing them in mirrors, but is she really crazy? Those swings in the park out front seem to be swinging themselves ...

Female Demon Ohyaku

Let's get something straight right up front: "Ohyaku" is bad romanization. What's the H doing in there? That's not how you render Japanese into English (there are conventions for such things). The proper spelling would be "Oyaku." However, the O is most likely an honorific, so it would more properly be "O-Yaku." So there.

Anyhow, this is a pretty good flick if you enjoy bloody revenge, Toei exploitation-style, in a jidai-geki setting. O-Yaku (Junko Miyazono) is an acrobat desired by many a horny old samurai and her boss keeps arranging these after-show meetings with them. But our O-Yaku's no whore, and lets these guys know it in no uncertain terms. One creepy fellow, a government official, takes her rejection particularly badly and ends up torturing her, beheading her lover with a guillotine, and finally shipping her off to Sado Island to work in the mines (while trying to fend off scores of male prisoners). Now she's out for revenge, and boy does she get it.

Junko Miyazono went on to star in Nobuo Nakagawa's even more ferocious Quick-Draw Okatsu the following year, a film I review in my forthcoming book Warring Clans, Flashing Blades: A Samurai Film Companion (which ships from the printers June 17th and will appear in retail outlets a few weeks thereafter). She's also good in Hideo Gosha's Samurai Wolf as a blind biwa-playing boss of a courier service (that one's in the book too). So I guess what I'm saying is I think you should buy my book.