Reviews

Junta Yamaguchi took time loop comedy to new levels of detail with the well-considered "Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes" (2020). Sticking with the two-minute time loop gimmick, "River" is a two-minute repetition, rather than eternally two-minutes behind, and again focuses on the complexities of time, this time the logistics of being pulled back to the same starting point, when your mind is moving on.

Set in the idyllic setting along the Kibune River north of Kyoto, Mikoto (Riko Fujitani) is by the river at the back of the inn where she works. Going about her daily tasks, two minutes later she finds herself back where she started. But her mind is two minutes on, fully aware as to what has just happened.

With the rest of the staff and guests also aware of this fact, they gradually start to piece things together, moving on from what they have previously learnt. The only problem: every two minutes everything reverts back to how it was before, so each loop only sees a little progress each time. So, they race is on to solve the mystery and get themselves out of this repetition.

The most notable thing about "River" is its setting. The quiet river of the inn is the kind of place you would happily spend repeating the same two minutes over and over. It is a relaxing setting for the chaos to descend on to. If you have to look at the same setting over and over for eighty-six minutes, Yamaguchi has picked a perfect one. And he makes the most of it, switching between seasons as the loops progress. This is a very relaxing watch.

Again, the attention to detail is there, carefully considering the logistics of the scenario. While focus is on Mikoto, the rest of the cast have to start from the same point too, and so all interactions need to fit within the two-minute window in real-time, despite the narrative having moved on. Shot in two-minute takes, this takes a lot of choreographing to get right.

Much of the cast have time pressures in their lives, and so the two-minute repetition allows them a good opportunity to think over their situation, coming to a resolve before the conclusion. A writer struggles with his story, but is allowed time to think where it should go; and two arguing guests continue their beef, but are friends again after just two minutes.

Mikoto herself has the opportunity to discuss her boyfriend's (Yuki Torigoe) secretive plans to move to France to further his career as a chef. In little more than two minutes, they have fully explored and settled how their relationship will develop. Unfortunately, this idea of being allowed more opportunity to think over situations is as close to metaphor as the scenario goes beyond being another filmmaking gimmick.

The ending itself also is something of a disappointment, feeling more like a sci-fi copout than an enjoyable conclusion that nicely rounds things off. As with "Beyond..." before it, logic is given greater focus over artistic expression. This is perhaps a weakness of films such as this: the method trumps the meaning. While enjoyable, you recall the technique more than the story, suitable for home-viewing with "Making of..." extras.

But this had me at the poster. The setting draws you in straight away, and you can soon lose yourself in the repetitive two-minute comedy sketch. Despite the chaos, this is more a gentle stream than a whirlpool.

Politic1983.home.blog.

With "Tokyo-Ga" (1985), Wim Wenders went in search of something that perhaps didn't exist outside of the silver screen. Returning to Tokyo for a narrative piece, Wenders again explores the idea of searching for something always out of reach, but also how other people both help and hinder inner contentment.

With no context as to how he got here, Hirayama (Koji Yakusho) works as a public toilet cleaner in Tokyo, travelling around the city following his same daily routine of watering plants, listening to music, diligent work, enjoying his favourite eatery, going to the bathhouse and reading, with the occasional drink thrown in for good measure. An ageing man, he has reached a contentment in this routine, taking pleasure in life's simple moments, and accepting each day for what it brings.

But his co-worker repeatedly lets him down, whose girlfriend steals his scared cassette tapes; the arrival of his estranged niece (Arisa Nakano) brings warmth, but also upsetting reflections of the past; and the mama-san of his favoured drinking establishment's returning ex-husband shuts down his evening plans, having to seek a less satisfying alternative.

Wenders gives us a repetition, with Hirayama's day starting off the same each time, as he tries to stick to the same routine. But people, and life, won't allow this. Indeed, most of us will have our days start the same, but eventually, the longer it goes on and the more interactions we have, the less similar each becomes.

The coda invites the idea of komorebi: the shimmering light through leaves of trees which will be different each time. Hirayama takes a photo of the same tree each day, searching for a perfect image deep within him. His longing for books, film cameras and old cassette tapes shows an analogue nature and desire for a simpler, less complicated time. We are given hints that he has a past he'd rather forget, and routine allows him to block this out.

But, as Wenders suggests, perfect doesn't exist. Life is a series of fleeting moments that can't be repeated, and we're wrong to think we can. Each day is different, and we need to accept that to be content. Fear of the past creates anxiety about the future, and the past making itself present will stop contentment. We must learn to adapt.

Wenders communicates this well, showing how others break the routine and each day brings with it new challenges, but also new joys. Perfect is not in repeating the same, but embracing the new. The minimalist nature works, though there are some more awkward scenes that feel silly more than anything, and massively bring down the overall atmosphere. Interactions with co-worker Takashi (Tokio Emoto) are particularly annoying. The soundtrack, key to the story, also feels a little obvious, with many well-worn vocals heard.

But despite its flaws, Wenders shapes his ideas very well, making us wait for what he is really trying to tell us. And Yakusho is an actor who gets better with age, having always worked well as an awkward man of few words.

The search is the strongest element for this: are we content living out the same each day to avoid fear; or are we anxious as to what tomorrow may bring? This is a fine balance "Perfect Days" leaps across. Repetition will soon breed contempt, but new challenges keep each day alive, whatever stage of life you are at.

'Isn't life disappointing?!'

Time loop comedy is becoming something of a genre, with an increasing number being made. But while the likes of Junta Yamaguchi may focus more on the filmmaking techniques for their time loops, Ryo Takebayashi takes more of a "Groundhog Day" (1993), Hell-of-repetition approach, as even working at a 'creative' agency is as endlessly repetitive as any office job.

Yoshikawa (Wan Marui) wakes one Monday morning in her office, surrounded by her colleagues having had to work all weekend to appease a demanding client. A mid-level member of the team, her two juniors approach her, trying to convince her they're repeating the same week, over and over. Putting forward some evidence (a pigeon flying into the window; people-watching out of the window), they eventually convince her this is the case (though it takes a few weeks).

Their approach is to now convince the more senior members of the team, believing this will break the cursed chain once everyone is aware of their recycled scenario. But it's not that simple. To get out of this endless cycle, a risk needs to be taken, potentially sacrificing your career.

While the time loop aspect is initially a gimmick, and there is of course repetition throughout, the story develops in a fairly linear fashion, as each team member becomes aware and learns more and more. This, therefore, doesn't exploit the gimmick too much, almost becoming a fairly straightforward comedy. With each passing week, the characters develop, as does the story and scenario, learning from their errors and changing things along the way. While stuck in a time loop, beyond a few choice moments, the week in the office is different each time, for the audience at least.

The eventual revelation to follow your own dream, rather than just doing the same thing week-in, week-out for ever-demanding clients raises the question of putting yourself first or putting others first. Though there is no obvious answer. Helping boss Nagahisa (Makita Sports) realise his lost dream sees the team put in the hours to help him, ignoring their external clients. But it's all for someone else. Nagahisa's failure is met with a shrug; happier to have a family and a quiet, repetitive life than take that risk.

Is it worth it then? Yoshikawa has to give up her personal life for her client's demands. Face-to-face, the client is likeable enough, himself having to meet the demands of his internal clients. Hard work and repetitive, long hours are necessary; it's the end goal that's important. Are you working to make a difference or purpose, or simply meeting meaningless demands? Nagahisa's real revelation is that the seeming life-or-death stresses put on staff can be easily loosened with a few, well-chosen words. To quote an old senior colleague of mine: 'no on died.'

This does what you'd expect from the scenario, and the comedy is fairly conventional and goes for crowd pleasing. This is, therefore, a good, enjoyable movie to watch. The ending has its heart in the right place, though the subject matter perhaps deserves a little more edge. From its hand gestures to its "Office Space" (1999) style, slow motion smashing of an inanimate object, this is a little light.

While staff quip they've been living the same week for years, this perhaps misses the opportunity to make more subtle jokes as to how we're all living the same week, over-and-over, time loop or not. But in a culture where 'karoshi' is a term, a more political edge should perhaps be added, highlighting the true meaninglessness of it all.

I've always put life before work in the work-life balance. I'm really working for things outside of work. And my work can be very repetitive. So, while time in the office may always be the same every week, make sure what happens outside of it isn't...if you remember you can leave it, that is.

Politic1983.home.blog.

Katsuhito Ishii is a director that seems to sit in the middle: You can see the influence of others on his work; but can see his hand in the work of others also. His breakthrough work, "Shark Skin Man and Peach Hip Girl" shows this perfectly: an ensemble piece of numerous characters with their own stories and introductions is very much a Nineties post-modern staple; yet its lead, Tadanobu Asano, went on to star in similar films with different directors.

Samehada (Asano) has had it on his toes with a yakuza family's money. And they're looking for him. Staying at his forest hideout, he finds hotel receptionist Toshiko (Sie Kohinata) fleeing her perverted uncle and brings her home. But the band of interestingly-dressed fellows, led by Tanuki (Ittoku Kishibe), surround them. Using Toshiko as a distraction, Samehada and his new found love escape into the trees.

The pair have a make-over, with Toshiko letting her hair down at last, and rather than run, choose to take their foes head-on, guns blazing. With a number of bodies in the story, a number of bodies are created, from various sides with various interests.

Straight from the film's introduction, you know this is going to be an energetic film full of overly colourful characters. Based on Minetaro Mochizuki's manga, the costume design is very much in keeping with its manga roots. The clothes, hairstyles and mannerisms are all larger-than-life, with the opening credits introducing each separately, as if a manga, over blaring music. It's fun, but feels very much an attempt at recreating Tarantino's brand of Hollywood cool, possibly trying a little too hard.

But this sense of fun continues throughout the film, and gradually, Ishii begins to bring in his unique sense of humour, which is where he should keep his focus, being the strongest element of his best work. And, as in "The Taste of Tea" (2004), Tatsuya Gashuin steals the show as hitman Yamada, tasked with killing Samehada and returning Toshiko to her lecherous uncle. A killer seemingly based on Mr Bean, everything about him is for laughs, and he bounces well off Asano with a glee, even when failing in his task.

And Asano himself, still relatively early in his career takes on one of his first lead roles, spends a large amount of the film in his underwear, and starts to show his ability to be effortlessly cool without taking himself too seriously. The rest of the ensemble cast play largely for laughs, though with such a large number of characters, many don't get enough screentime to have much real impact.

Plotwise, this doesn't offer a huge amount, with the second half largely a shoot-out in the dark, and so the strength lies in what would become an Ishii signature: extended sketches. The bathroom scene between Gashuin and Asano is a delight from the first to the last, with both of top form; and the bank robbery where Samehada and Toshiko first cross paths finds humour in tension.

There is a lot going on here, with Ishii himself stating he tried to get as many of his ideas out as soon as possible when making it. Anime/manga, Hollywood action-drama and comedy all show their influence. And while an American style can be found within this, Ishii uses its manga origins to give this a slightly different feel. The large cast, character styling and sketch approach make one think of Takashi Miike's "Ichi the Killer" (2001) (Asano's Kakihara feeling like an amalgamation of various characters) and Gen Sekiguchi's "Survive Style 5+" (2004). Both feature similar casts, blending comedy and violence, with strong anime/manga influence and aesthetic.

Ishii here, therefore, in his first notable feature is something of a leader and follower, coming at a time where mid-Nineties Tarantino and Coen Brothers' global impact could be felt, bringing a blend of comedy and violence to Japan's global cinematic re-awakening. Maybe that overstates its influence a little. This may not always be serious filmmaking. This may not always be good filmmaking. But it's certainly a lot of fun.

Politic1983.home.blog.

Never (perhaps a slight exaggeration) has a film matched its title (English version, anyway) as much as Sho Miyake's "Small, Slow but Steady". The Japanese like an understated boxing drama, and this is certainly that, matching its lead in its sheer unremarkable nature, but therein lies its charm.

Keiko (Yukino Kishii) is a boxer born deaf - a hinderance in the game, as The Chairman of her gym (Tomokazu Miura) highlights. He also laments her lack of distinctive style and poor reach. But she's honest and tries her best. Keiko, who works as a hotel cleaner to supplement her fledgeling boxing career, doesn't stand out, and her lack of speech furthers this. Unaware as to what is going on around her, she simply keeps her head down and carries on. An honest person whom life dealt a bad hand.

But this niceness is part of a larger problem. While her gym has fame, it is now old, on the outskirts of the city and COVID has hit it hard. Boxers are leaving the gym to fight elsewhere, with the otherwise ordinary Keiko their only draw. But the ever-diligent fighter becomes unsure of herself when her hearing impairment and lack of underhand tactics get the better of her.

Humble is a word to describe this film, from Keiko's boxing style and demeanour, earnest approach to her work and training, but also the location in Tokyo. More industrial, downtrodden neighbourhoods form the backdrop for the dilapidated gym and surrounding areas where Keiko does much of her training. The gym itself is on its last legs, as boxers flood out and no one lined up to take over from the ageing Chairman.

This is exemplified by Keiko's search for a new gym taking her to a more central, modern and clean gym. The gym owner's (Makiko Watanabe) bold personality seems at odds with Keiko's; giving the excuse that the gym is 'too far.' This disappoints her coaches, but they know it to be Keiko's way. She is happy where she is.

But this will soon change as the gym approaches closing. Her last fight saw her lack of 'dark arts' end in defeat. Unable to hear the bell, she becomes confused, and her opponent uses some of boxing's oldest tricks to steal a victory. She feels cheated, and a world of unsporting behaviour to progress is not a direction she wants to take. Seeing the fighter away from the ring, humbly thanking her for the fight, however, perhaps gives her a different perspective.

This matches Miyake's most notable previous work "And You Bird Can Sing" (2018), with dim lighting, slow-pacing and characters struggling to find their own little place in the world. It also features a small-scale world, where characters live within their own limits. The industrial shots of Tokyo's suburban areas are the film's star, a point Miyake hammers home as they adorn the end credits and feel a naturally perfect way to end proceedings.

Kishii is the centre of this world, and holds things together well in the roll of keeping calm and carrying on; naturally charming those around her. But like Keiko, the humble nature means this isn't quite a knock-out, yet a pleasing, gentle tale. It doesn't try to be anything else, however, like its lead.

COVID will inevitably dominate much cinema set in the present, and this shows a small-scale impact of a gym forced to close and fights in empty venues. Like much of Japanese boxing cinema, the gym is the central location with some satisfying sparring scenes; and bouts in the ring kept to a minimum, yet realistic in their portrayal, never glamourising the sport.

A small world. A slow pacing. A steady piece of work. Points victory.

Politic1983.home.blog.

Keisuke Yoshida's "Intolerance" is a clever film, and not just in how it handles the response of a community to a tragic death, but in how it avoids cliches of grief porn that can run riot in films of this nature.

Her parents divorced, teenage Kanon (Aoi Ito) lives with her old-fashioned and angry father Mitsuru (Arata Furuta). Trying to combat her more liberal mother Shoko (Tomoko Tabata), Mitsuru forbids many modern pursuits, leading Kanon to get caught up in shoplifting make-up at a store run by Naoto (Tori Matsuzaka). Chased, Kanon runs in front of a car driven by a young woman (Masumi Nomura), before being crushed under a lorry.

A wave of intolerance then sweeps through the small community, with local press targeting Naoto and his store; as does Mitsuru in his harassment and accusations. Though Mitsuru himself becomes a target, as his angry and erratic behaviour is witnessed. A knock-on effect throughout sees everyone become a victim, but also far from blameless, in a community that has failed a young girl.

In a film that starts with a tragic death, resulting in a funeral where an unwanted face sparks an angry reaction, one would be forgiven for thinking this could walk the road of many a film that is devoid of humour and brightness, becoming and endless string of overly-emotional tirades. But Yoshida very quickly steers us away from this path, down a more comedic and ingenious one.

Somewhat out of character, Mitsuru seems almost amused by the way his daughter died, wanting more to make sure Naoto doesn't forget about what happened. He stalks the store and follows Naoto wherever he goes, quitting his work to do so. He has become single-minded in this pursuit, ignoring Shoko's pleas and apologies from the young driver, and Furuta plays him with a tightrope walking glee, from the playful to the angry.

The seemingly mild Naoto falls into a depression, with his cheerful employee Asako (Shinobu Terajima) constantly trying to bring him out of his funk. But he rejects her constant niceness, eventually pushing her to show her own permanently hidden frustrations. The vicious cycle of abuse towards others when trying to apologise or help is the key theme from Yoshida's own experiences. When in moments of distress, it is easier to lash out at others, rather than have patience and take their support with good grace.

While not an intentional comedy, one can only find humour in how the scenario plays out from an outside perspective. Each person sees their life crumble as a result of their response to others, instantly taking a negative view of their intentions. As one bad turn creates another, you have to smile at human folly.

But there is a serious side to this as well. Each realises the need to take time to reflect, rather than simply react. It was Mitsuru's ignorance of his daughter's life that created the whole scenario in the first place, pushing both his wife and daughter away, until they are gone for good. Each character is a caricature - either overly angry, overly polite or overly meek - as is the way in a tragedy, but their reactions feel natural, and the transfer of anger something we can all relate to.

What Yoshida creates therefore, is a clever tragedy, that will make you crack a smile, but also hit hard with some home truths, in the same way the lorry hit Kanon with full force.

Politic1983.home.blog.

If the English title is something of a mouthful, Yuya Ishii's most inventive film to date will leave you with a headful of undeveloped ideas. Using 'guerrilla' (that's me quoting myself) poet and visual artist Tahi Saihate's poetry anthology as inspiration, this is a whirlwind of ideas, visuals, noises, poetry and comment, all wrapped together under the Tokyo skyline.

Shinji (Sosuke Ikematsu) is a day labourer on a construction site in preparation for the Tokyo Olympics. Alongside fellow workers Tomoyuki (Ryuhei Matsuda), Iwashita (Tetsushi Tanaka) and Andres (Paul Magsign), they lift heavily by day and party heavily by night, living in cramped conditions, with limited funds and long-term prospects. Blind in one eye, Shinji's mind races at a hundred miles an hour, spouting out verbal diarrhoea that no one can keep up with.

Chance sees his path regularly cross with that of nurse and hostess Mika (Shizuka Ishibashi), though she is initially drawn to the more confident Tomoyuki. Hiding an illness, however, Tomoyuki suddenly dies at work, with Shinji the closest thing he had to family. Shinji sees this as his chance to get closer to Mika, their paths frequently crossing in Tokyo's busiest and noisiest districts until they build their own story together.

With a number of quirky coming-of-age comedies under his belt, there is a little more purpose and artistry in Ishii's approach here, though perhaps treads on some rather fine lines. With no major plotline to speak of, this has the carefree air in the face of a thousand problems that comes with youth. The characters bounce around the city, seemingly living twenty-four hour lives, with life a series of fleeting moments.

Based on an anthology, this is a collection of ideas, never fully developed or explored to show the melting pot that is Tokyo. Numerous social comments are thrown in as the city prepares for the Olympics, often portrayed as a negative for the city, even before COVID. Day labourers work on low wages and little job security; nurses have to moonlight in hostess bars. You can dream to the night sky, but the city will crush many dreams.

With moving cameras, this creates the claustrophobic atmosphere of the hustle and bustle of Tokyo streets where you are never too far from the noise. It also highlights the reliance on mobile communications, where constant noise and bombardment are reflected in Shinji's cluttered mind. Districts such as Shibuya and Shinjuku are where Shinji and Mika often find themselves, though neither seem to particularly like them.

Serving as a good companion piece to Ryuichi Hiroki's "Sayonara Kabukicho," this shows a changing face of Tokyo in the build up to the Olympics, where tidying up the city leaves a youth that is overworked and looking for an escape.

The fleeting nature of the city is reflected in the fleeting nature of the ideas contained within. Mika's visits home and the two leads' previous love interests are brought in, though don't necessarily add anything to the overall story, apart from suggesting they could have had alternative lives. Shinji's ramblings are little more than that, not necessarily offering conclusions. And Mika takes everything that happens to her in her stride, seemingly unaffected by it all.

"The Tokyo Night Sky is Always the Densest Shade of Blue" intrigues and leaves a lot to linger on the mind. Things come and go easily, but leave a lot of holes for you to fill in. It is earnest, yet naïve; full of ideas, but unable to fully articulate them. This will, therefore, frustrate or evoke depending on what you want from it. Throwing a lot of sounds and lights in your direction, and expecting you to take them in your stride, this is life in the city.

Politic1983.home.blog.

The purpose of any road movie, rather than just getting from A to B, is to have progressed as a human being on reaching the destination; rather than just being sat for an extended period needing the toilet - reflective of any cinema experience. In the hands of Kore-eda Hirokazu, however, his deconstruction of the conventional family unit means that by the end of this road movie, a new 'family' has been realised.

With the assistance of Dong-soo (Gang Dong-won) who works at a church orphanage, Sang-hyeon (Song Kang-ho) is a 'broker' for illegal adoptions for potential parents not wanting to go through the lengthy, official routes. One night, a young mother, So-young (Lee Ji-eun), leaves her baby son outside a baby box drop-off for 'unwanted' babies at the church where Dong-soo works. Stepping-in before the church is aware, the pair of brokers have a new product to sell at a profit to themselves.

Under the watch of social welfare detectives Soo-hin (Bae-Doo-na) and Lee (Lee Joo-young), So-young returns to the orphanage in the hope of taking her son back. But no one is aware of a baby being dropped, other than Dong-soo. Taking her to Sang-hyeon, the trio travel around the country in search of a legitimate buyer. But the further they travel, the closer they become, until the baby with no hope has a loving family around it.

If you ignore the somewhat unengaging "The Truth", "Broker" carries on where Kore-eda's last Japanese film "Shoplifters" left off. Now in South Korea, a fractured family has been created from unrelated individuals unwittingly, with each assuming their role: Dong-soo and So-young as parents; Sang-hyeon the older uncle; and orphan Hae-jin (Im Seung-soo), who hides away in their van, taking on the role of older brother.

Each has their own stock in the debate as to a mother giving up her child. So-young, naturally, has her reasons for what she did, feeling cornered, though returned to her child. Dong-soo and Hae-jin were both given up by their parents, growing up in the same orphanage, and so sympathise with the baby, making Dong-soo initially cautious towards So-young. While Sang-hyeon is a divorced father whose wife and daughter seem indifferent to him, and so his work as a broker seems out of a genuine desire to see children get a good upbringing. As they spend more time with each other on the road, they grow to see each other's perspectives.

Less obvious are Soo-hin's motivations, seemingly as a detective too emotionally involved in the case she's working. As things develop, she becomes more erratic and emotional in her behaviour, to the point of feeling a little awkward and unnatural. Which is a shame as, like the rest of the cast, Bae gives a good performance.

As with "Distance", "Still Walking" and "After the Storm", the cast are in a claustrophobic scenario and so have to come to terms with one another, despite their disagreements. This, therefore, relies on lots of tight interactions between individuals, and the strong cast delivers. For the most part, the flow of conversation is natural, with Dong-soo and So-young's conversation on top of a Ferris wheel a well-paced exchange, where background timing is essential to its effectiveness.

His first road movie, this is again a more mainstream effort from Kore-eda, with more overt comedy on offer, as well as being more plot-driven. The depth interactions are still there and this is very much within Kore-eda's oeuvre, and feels more comfortable than "The Truth"; his style transferring better to a South Korean setting.

This is far from Kore-eda at his best, but he has made worse, and this is indeed a better trip abroad than the previous. As ever, there is no simple resolve to the situation, so compromises and sacrifices are made, though a greater understanding leads to more openness. With a both tried and tested cast, Kore-eda had brokered a more fertile deal overseas.

Politic1983.home.blog.

As the new millennium dawned, Park Chan-wook burst on to the international cinema scene with those films you know all about. Though after "Lady Vengeance" (2005), with the exception of "The Handmaiden" (2016), I've found much of his work to be fairly mediocre offerings which I struggled to get into and found mostly forgettable.

And "Decision to Leave" is a film that fits Park's career perfectly in that it switches between moments of great filmmaking and moments where perhaps a better decision could have been made. I don't think I've watched any of his films that don't have at least a blip or two, though while an enjoyable watch overall, "Decision to Leave" perhaps has a few too many moments to make it a great film.

Detective Hae-jun (Park Hae-il) is put on what seems a fairly open-and-shut case of a wealthy mountaineer falling to his death scaling a peak. Questioning his widow, the enigmatic young Chinese Seo-rae (Tang Wei), he is attracted to her, but believes she isn't quite as heartbroken as she maybe should be.

With Hae-jun's wife living in another city, he develops a close relationship with Seo-rae. But when things get to a head between them, Hae-jun's initial suspicions are realised. Cutting all ties and moving to start a new life in a small town with his wife, Seo-rae enters his life once more, with another dead husband. Whatever the truth of this second case, Hae-jun has already made his mind up as the where guilt lies.

For much of its runtime, "Decision to Leave" feels like a film on the verge, but never quite gets there. Initially, there is a feeling of light humour, though this is toned down quickly, and laughs are not what much of this is about. There are also some CSI-like graphics which you'd simply rather do without. But starting off as a detective drama, this moves into the world of romance.

The first half, therefore, is quite varied in mood and tone, and it's not until we are fully into the love story that you can sink in and enjoy it. Though now we are thrown into the world of twists and turns towards the end, as the story starts to become a little convoluted.

But overall, this is an enjoyable watch that you will be drawn into towards its latter stages. It certainly looks the part, and Wei is the star as the enigmatic Seo-rae who we're never quite sure whether to believe or not.

This is a good film, but too much of a jack-of-all-trades to ever become great. It's not fully a detective drama; never quite a romance; lacking the cool of a noir. The final scene, however, is certainly its standout moment, as Seo-rae meets her ingenious demise, and worthy of your efforts to get there. Park can certainly make a good film, though sometimes his decisions could be better.

Politic1983.home.blog.

With "Chungking Express" the breath of fresh air Wong Kar-wai had been craving during the difficult "Ashes of Time" production, he clearly liked where it took him and so decided to return there. Something of an anthology film, with separate stories linked by a takeaway, adding another couple of stories on to the end of "Chungking Express" is an easy way to return to his happy place.

But while the earlier film features two cops as leads, its somewhat-sequel "Fallen Angels" has a couple of criminals as its heroes. Wong (Leon Lai) is a hitman whose life is planned out for him by his mysterious agent whom he never meets (Michelle Reis). Faxing him crudely drawn instructions, he goes out on a hit, only for his agent to sneak in to clean and restock his small apartment. Mute He (Takeshi Kaneshiro) is a wild character who beaks into small businesses each night and runs them as if they were his own, though his customer service leaves a little something to be desired. He meets the equally volatile Charlie (Charlie Yeung) for a fleeting romance, before she disappears into the night as quick as she came.

Even more so than "Chungking Express", "Fallen Angels" is pure aesthetic and mood, the soundtrack deliberately placed in each scene to represent cool, lust, heartbreak and rage. Christopher Doyle takes on Andrew Lau's place for the action sequences, with turning and pointing a gun made to look effortlessly stylish as if a fashion accessory; with Wong's now standard slow frame speed for any scenes of violence.

With no real story of which to speak, other than the leads going about their nightly life, this is Wong at his most playful and funny. Kaneshiro's He is a distant relative of his Cop 223 of the same scripted name in "Chungking Express". He is a loner who spends much of his time contemplating people's inner-selves, though his antics are Wong throwing all his comedy into one man. And Kaneshiro plays the role with glee, a smile on his face in every scene as the playful rogue. But one with a heart - he also has some of the film's most tender moments when it comes to friends and family. This is one of Wong's finest characters and a shame that he didn't work with Kaneshiro to a greater extent, bringing out the best in each other.

Unlike the former film, the two narratives are interwoven rather than split into two halves; the hitman's more stylistic and cool throughout, while the petty criminal is playful, making the film switch and dance around, keeping you entertained and never allowing one to take over from the other.

"Fallen Angels" is a very personal film for me in that, along with Akira Kurosawa's "Rashomon" and Yimou Zhang's "Raise the Red Lantern", it is one of the first non-kung-fu Asian films I watched in anger, starting me on my journey; Karen Mok's Punkie approaching Wong in a deserted McDonald's a joke that has stuck with me for years. It also features the Hong Kong Stadium where I saw my beloved Aston Villa play several years later.

And this also feels something of a personal film for Wong himself. Various nods are made to his work throughout, notably "Chungking Express". Punkie wears a blonde wig; encounters are had in dimly lit bars; secretly cleaning a beloved's flat; Charlie becomes an air stewardess; He takes over the Midnight Express takeaway, though this time McDonald's replaces Coca-Cola. And there's something of a nod to Tony Leung Chiu-wai's tiny flat in "Days of Being Wild" in Wong's small bedsit. This shows Wong is having fun and throwing in references for those in the know.

Two years later Wong would produce Eric Kot's "First Love: Litter on the Breeze" as almost a third instalment, showing this was the type of film Wong enjoyed at this period. But despite its similarities to its more distinguished older sibling, "Fallen Angels" is very much its own film, as all Wong films are. It is more enigmatic, overly-stylised and comical. It is a little more directionless than his other films: more youthful in its energy; its love stories more fleeting crushes than painful heartbreak. Though these little cherubs are ones to cherish for the future; Wong next going on to make perhaps his two most accomplished works.

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Hong Sang-soo is a filmmaker that has simple formulas that he can work some creative and comedic ideas into. This almost paint-by-numbers approach means that it is easy for him to churn out a large number of films, coming with at least one new effort every year. "In Front of Your Face" is a film that features all of the usual techniques of a Hong film, though this time around he has not thrown in a twist or gimmick, going for a more conventional character narrative.

Wanderings: Our heroine, Sang-ok (Lee Hye-yeong), has returned from the US to visit family, staying with her sister Jeong-ok (Cho Yun-hee). She has an appointment scheduled, though until then, she drinks coffee with her sister, and wanders the streets and parks of her past. As with any Hong film the lead is a little lost and wanders alone in search of something; they're not quite sure what. The more Sang-ok wanders, the more we start to notice something is on her mind.

The lustful director: It turns out the appointment is with a director, Jae-won (Kwon Hae-hyo), who wants to cast Sang-ok in his next work - she having been a minor actress in a previous life back in South Korea. It is here that Sang-ok makes what's troubling her public, and why she cannot commit to the project. Jae-won has been a fan of her work from his youth, and though married with children, working on his next project is not his only intention.

Conversations over food...and drink: This has always been the key feature of any Hong film: Rohmer-esque extended takes of conversations, zooming in for added awkwardness. Sang-ok has coffee and then lunch with her sister and drinks with the director as they discuss potential future plans - ones we learn will not be possible. It is these conversations over drinks where revelations are made, and the longer the take, the more is revealed, as the actors themselves come to terms with their characters' plight.

It would be typical here for Hong to turn the tale on its head or re-tell it from a different perspective, though no such foible happens here. Instead the situation is how it is; the meeting with the director now concluded and tomorrow is another day. What does occur, however, is a more rounded ending for a Hong film - and indeed it is the ending which ties all this together nicely.

Hong films are often short and/or split into various parts, making them almost like shorts. Perhaps that is why here a more standard-length film with a single narrative arc does start to drift towards the middle. We feel Sang-ok is wandering nowhere and just spending the day with her sister. But the importance of this shared time is visualised with the strong closing image as the camera fades out. The small things have a new significance and sharing the day with her sister is what Sang-ok is looking for. Here Hong has gone for love over lust and family over affairs.

This lacks some of the comedy - though it is still there - of his other films and has a more straightforward, linear narrative. But this is certainly a Hong film. Not his best, but this offers something a little fresh for him and shows he is still full of ideas despite his large output. The scene has not faded just yet.

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To say "Ashes of Time" is a problematic film is an understatement. Epic in its ambition, it was a difficult film for cast and crew alike; Wong taking a break from post-production to get a breath of fresh air with "Chungking Express". Though it is a film equally problematic for the audience, as while easy on the eye, following its plot is far from simple.

Feng (Leslie Cheung) is a fixer who lives in a remote desert where people come to have their problems solved. Which essentially means he finds them a hired killer. And that is essentially that. Sitting in his house, people come to him and tell him their stories of woe over a drink. Via flashbacks, we learn of their pasts and what brought them to this place. With the occasional action sequence thrown in.

Framed to be a martial arts epic, this is more indulgent than grand-scale. To start, this looks absolutely stunning. The cinematography from Christopher Doyle and Kwan Pung-leung is exquisite, and combines two techniques which would prove key in his two best films: "Happy Together" and "In the Mood for Love". The use of colour would be furthered in the former, giving each frame the look of a work of art. The blues and yellows are bold, bright and beautiful, giving this a distinctive look. The use of shadow, which was perfected in the latter, makes this look stylish beyond style.

Though perhaps so much thought has gone into these two elements that as a film, particularly a martial arts film, this leaves a lot to be desired. Fight scenes are shot from an artistic perspective, using the slow frame speed seen in "As Tears Go By" and "Chungking Express", so they look good, but with enough artistic flourish to make it almost impossible to figure out what is actually happening. The overall slow pace makes them feel like they don't belong here.

The story, well stories, are also hard to follow, coming in the form of flashback and re-telling. This lack of a clear, linear narrative, therefore, can make it easy to become lost. While this features Wong's standard tales of a love unfulfilled, as they pop-by one-by-one, they feel more like agony aunt tales than the cool or developed love of his other films.

The cast also work to create a feel of indulgence. Perhaps inspired by their roles in the Wong-produced "The Eagle Shooting Heroes", they take it in turns to over-act. In fact, here they all appear to be in love with the camera. They gaze into it, with close-ups held just a little too long. All are guilty of this.

All-in-all, it is a film that is great to just look at and not concern yourself too much with what is going on. Perhaps Wong was trying to push in too many elements here, losing some focus, as the visuals dazzle us, but make us forget where we were. As a piece of visual cinema, it is a triumph. But as an enjoyable watch, and more importantly a martial arts film, you can't quite see the ashes for the dust.

The films of Juzo Itami act somewhat as a bridge between the old and the new of Japanese cinema. Japanese cinema of the Eighties is a somewhat neglected era in terms of wider recognition, wedged in-between the golden era of the Fifties and Sixties, the more avant-garde Seventies and the greater international exposure brought on by new wave directors, J-horror and 'extreme' cinema in the Nineties.

His universal themes and satire of bubble-era Japanese life have mainstream appeal, but are combined with an attention to detail and themes more commonly found in arthouse cinema. As his debut, "The Funeral" is a brilliant balance of these elements, in a film that is simultaneously witty, detailed, informative and outrageous but, most importantly, human.

Actor Wabisuke (Tsutomu Yamazaki) and his wife Chizuko (Nobuko Miyamoto) are filming a commercial together when they learn of Chizuko's father Shokichi's (Hideji Otaki) death at the family home in Izu. Their reaction is fairly devoid of emotion, until discussions turn to the funeral arrangements. Having never had to plan one before, the couple are sent on a never-ending journey of administrative tasks and decisions regarding the minutiae of the three-day ceremony. It all seems rather daunting, though luckily there is a fairly standard set of rules to follow and learn by rote.

Under the supervision of the undertaker Ebihara (Nekohachi Edoya) and their manager Satomi (Ichiro Zaitsu), they take a step-by-step approach to the arrangements, but life continually gets in the way of their studying: Children run around fighting; Wabisuke's mistress arrives and causes a scene; and endless expenses have to be paid. Rather than mourn their loss, the family mourn the burden of tasks put upon them.

Much like his old friend and brother-in-law Kenzaburo Oe, Itami put a lot of his own life into his work. Not only is his wife Miyamoto cast in a lead role, the struggles are based on having to arrange his own father-in-law's funeral a year earlier. Filmed in his own house also, this is based on personal experience, and why it is very relatable, even cross-culturally (though some points will stick more than others).

Each aspect of the funeral arrangement is looked at in a linear narrative, as if following an instruction manual; a fact humorously included, as the couple watch a funeral etiquette video, with the actors only happy to be given lines to recite for every eventuality. Death, therefore, has been made more about keeping up appearances than expressing inner emotions.

But this is what makes its themes so truthful and universal, at least to the Japanese. With Japanese religion sometimes described as 'funeral religion', the arrangements after one's death are as much a part of family life as any. A montage of home movie footage shows the family carrying on as normal as they work around the shopping list of plans.

And shopping is certainly what has to be done. Catering, sake, funeral beads all have to be bought and paid for, as well as the extensive fees for the priest's appearance. Reflecting the endless money in Japan at the time, the priest (Ozu regular Ryu Chishu) arrives in a Rolls Royce, with death having made him a tidy living. Itami clearly found a lot to be amused by as a society of rituals and structure was placed in a booming economy where everything has a price - more money than you can even hold on to.

These are elements which would feature in his subsequent films, and "The Funeral" is a directorial debut from an established actor who certainly knew his way around cinema. The comedy on display is subtle and holds a host of truths, as the children are told not to hammer the coffin shut too hard with a stone, only for the undertaker's assistant to wallop the nails home without a hint of delicacy. Yonezo Maeda's cinematography is also employed well, as the family peer down on Shokichi's body in the coffin. Indeed, the reason they are there is treated as an amusement to be gawped at.

But Itami does make us all remember why we're here, with Shokichi's widow Kikue (Kin Sugai) delivering a moving eulogy (to Wabisuke's relief) to remind everybody of the importance of each other. Laughable, chaotic and flawed, it's as human a film you're likely to see.

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"Chungking Express" feels like something of a breath of fresh air. Perhaps it's the tragicomic storylines, cast of future all-stars, striking cinematography or lively, persistent soundtrack, but this is certainly a fun cinematic palate cleanser. And that's certainly what it was for director Wong Kar-wai, whose lengthy, troubled production for the ambitious but flawed kung-fu epic "Ashes of Time" hit a production break, leaving him with a hole in his schedule that needed filling.

What resulted was a fast-turn around, written-as-they-went ensemble piece, where characters are stuck in Wong's favourite place: yearning for a love which will remain unfulfilled. Any frustrations "Ashes of Time" may have been giving him are miles away, with Wong in his element and having fun while at it. His most light-hearted film, this works around a loose script that is as poetic as it is funny and, quite frankly, downright silly.

Centred around the "Midnight Express" take away bar in Chungking Mansions, Kowloon, two lovesick policemen who frequent the establishment pursue new attempts at failed relationships. Essentially, this is four short films centred on each of the main characters, divided into two halves to create two non-existent love stories.

Brigitte Lin's segment as the unnamed 'Woman in blonde wig' sees a criminal using Indian families to smuggle drugs. She moves in underworld circles in a frantic and fast-paced life, hiding behind shades and the distinctive blonde wig. But her lover has moved on to a new wigged love, and her failed attempt to transport the contraband leave her lost and alone.

One night she meets Takeshi Kaneshiro's Cop 233, a young, naïve detective who fails in catching criminals as much as women. Obsessed over his ex, he spends his days phoning her from the Express' payphone. His is a pathetic love trapped inside modern pursuits, attaching his love to the expiration of tinned pineapples; and running to sweat out all the water for tears. His birthday night, he tries to woo the criminal, though she seems uninterested, though their time together leaves them both with a smile.

Now enter Tony Leung Chiu-wai's Cop 663, a beat cop who stops by the Express to pick-up dinner for his airhostess girlfriend. Chatting with the manager (Piggy Chan), he is encouraged to buy her new things to try, until one day she decides to try a new man. Now single, he sits at home talking to the inanimate objects of his flat about their sadness at her departure. They mustn't cry for her.

But the real star is Faye (Faye Wong), the young worker at Express who the manager tries to set-up with both policemen, and serves as the link between the two halves. Naïve and infatuated with 663, she sneakily gets hold of the keys to his apartment and goes in to clean and re-arrange in his absence. Wong plays the role with a child-like enthusiasm; often staring wide-eyed from behind her shades. She is the free spirit of youth in love that the film is trying to capture.

Not just one of Wong's best, this is one of the best films of the Nineties and serves as the definitive Wong film, incorporating all the elements to which he would be associated. Here narration takes over, which would become a key feature of his films - each character taking on the role as narrator, making up a lot of the script. And all characters suffer from Wong's favourite trait: a love unfulfilled.

Stylistically, this also mixes his films, notably working with two cinematographers, as he would often do. Andrew Lau takes on the film's first stories, using the same slow-framed action scenes and neo-noir of "As Tears Go By"; while Christopher Doyle brings his lo-fi picture-perfect framing as he would use in "Days of Being Wild" and "Happy Together".

This has the most humour of a Wong film, largely brought by Takeshi Kaneshiro's unique charm, but also the happy band of Indian drug mules the blonde wig has to heard like cats. Indeed, as with "Fallen Angels", Wong would employ Kaneshiro for laughs. Though a loneliness is in each of the four leads, despite the busy hustle and bustle that surrounds them.

Though perhaps the soundtrack is the most notable feature, with each character seemingly having their own theme to reflect their mood, from 233's slow, lamenting noir jazz, to Faye's upbeat optimism in the form of The Mamas & The Papas' "California Dreamin'". Thoroughly considered, it draws on various styles to reflect the mood and setting, and the first truly important soundtrack of his oeuvre. In many ways, the perfect music video...or Coca-Cola advert.

With fun and experimentation very much the order of the day, this is great filmmaking out of circumstance, as much as planning. Simply going with the flow and seeing what comes of it, Wong created a defining work; and arguably his best script written on the fly. Don't think; feel.

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"Days of Being Wild" is a definite step up in style in the evolution of Wong Kar-wai's career as a director, but certainly wasn't yet the leap into his mid-late Nineties heyday. Here Wong is finding his voice as a filmmaker, after his debut "As Tears Go By", which felt the influence of others, and this so feels a truer debut. But there is still a little something lacking here to make this prime Wong.

One noticeable point is that this is a film largely about ennui rather than an actual story. Yuddy (Leslie Cheung) is a young, wild and bored man, living off the woman who raised him's money. With little to do all day, he spends his time chasing women - successfully seducing Li-zhen (Maggie Cheung) and Fung-ying (Carina Lau) - and pestering his 'mother' Rebecca (Rebecca Pan) as to who his real mother is.

But Rebecca won't reveal the truth; holding the information from him for fear of losing him. And so Yuddy leaves a trail of broken hearts in his wake in retaliation: Li-zhen taking comfort in policeman Tide (Andy Lau); while Fung-ying fights off the advances of Yuddy's sidekick Zeb (Jacky Cheung).

This was a step away from the more mainstream action offering of "As Tears Go By", with violence limited and lines delivered more than shouted by the cast. His debut was more typical of Eighties Hong Kong cinema, but "Days of Being Wild" is a step into a new world.

Stylistically, this has less of the neo-noir of its predecessor, and notable as his first collaboration with Christopher Doyle, with slow, languid shots to a more considered soundtrack. The camera is stiller for facial close-ups, often showing a stoic outer shell. Wong would also use narration for the first time, showing the inner conflicts and mourning of memories typical of his characters.

Though this lacks the depth of "Happy Together" and "In the Mood for Love" and the style of "Chungking Express" and "Fallen Angels". The narration is infrequent and doesn't give enough inner perspective. Andy Lau's Tide is the most likeable of the characters: a solid rock, going about his work, offering a shoulder to others. Yuddy is more a straight rogue than a loveable one, spoilt and uncaring; while Li-zhen and Fung-ying are women deserving sympathy, but lack a little something to make them characters you want to go on a journey with.

Perhaps the most important moment of the film, is seemingly the most irrelevant and obscure. If this is the starting point to a loose trilogy with "In the Mood for Love" and "2046", then Tony Leung Chiu-wai's entrance as a man about town looking to hit the night is the linking point. Preparing himself, he is smooth, sophisticated and debonair, despite his meagre apartment suggesting otherwise. He is all show for the ladies. This unnamed man will take over Yuddy's mantle as the local womaniser; but also grow into his role as Mo-wan in "In the Mood for Love".

Leung always has a way of introducing himself in a film, and as "Jungle Drums" plays, this scene is the true introduction of Wong as a filmmaker.

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It's hard to now watch Wong Kar-wai's debut "As Tears Go By" without considering it in the context of his body of work. In many ways similar to his other films, it is also very different; very much a product of its time. His only film released in the Eighties; this feels more akin to a John Woo action flick. But with "Days of Being Wild" acting as a bridge, it is clear to see the starting point of his evolution as a filmmaker.

While "Ashes of Time" and "The Grandmaster" are billed as kung-fu films, and "Chungking Express" and "Fallen Angels" are not without their weaponry, "As Tears Go By" is much more graphic and frequent in its violence. Wah (Andy Lau) and his little brother Fly (Jacky Cheung) frequently find themselves in back-alley scrapes with rival Tony (Alex Man) and his thugs.

The film's love interest comes in the form of Ngor (Maggie Cheung) who comes to stay with her distant cousin Wah in Kowloon. Having never met before, the longer she stays, the more and more Wah is attracted to her. But Ngor seems wholesome compared to Wah's street-wise entrepreneurship.

The crux of "As Tears Go By" is loyalty. Wah is a man clearly more intelligent and respected than his position as a mid-level criminal, and shows signs of wanting to start a quiet life with Ngor. But his loyalty to little brother Fly is his downfall. Fly is young and wild, continually looking for trouble he can't handle. He costs Wah a lot of time, money and beatings. But when the opportunity to walk away from him and start a new life with Ngor presents itself, he can only run to Fly when he is frequently in need.

And this is the essence of a Wong film, though in a less common scenario for him. His work always revolves around love that will remain unfulfilled; so easy to obtain, but is the tragedy of his characters. Wong likes his creations to get close, but never quite touch.

The look, however, is very much Wong, though a more Eighties version. A neo-noir style throughout, with neon lights across the night scene and smoke billowing in the air. The soundtrack too is very Eighties, and not as timeless as his others would become. This is where it is very much like a Woo film in its sounds, as the music soothes those who have just been beaten. The Cantonese cover version of "Take My Breath Away" comes layered in cheese, but fits the tone perfectly.

In look it is most similar to the Brigette Lin scenes of "Chungking Express", with its slowed-down frame speed for scenes of violence, with Andrew Lau's cinematography common to both.

As a debut, this is good, but perhaps many parts are reminiscent of many other Hong Kong action films of the era. The artistic style shows that Wong could break free of this mould and move on to bigger and better things; his flair for atmosphere and mood more original than his action sequencing.

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