Month: May 2015

By Joe Bendel. It is impossible to make broad generalizations about the depiction of Christianity in Korean cinema. Yes, there are the crude stereotypes and kneejerk jibes, but there are also rather nuanced and humanistic portrayals, as well. For a recovering sex crime victim, it is a source of comfort and life affirmation. Unfortunately, the consolation of faith will be overwhelmed by the lingering corrosiveness of sin in Lee Don-ku’s Fatal, which screens this Wednesday as part of the Asia Society’s free Korean Movie Night series, co-presented by the Korean Cultural Service in New York.

Never very smart or self-assertive, the conflicted Lee Sung-gong meekly stands by while his classmates rape a teen-age girl one-by-one in the adjoining room. When told to take his turn, Lee duly enters. Just what he does or does not do to the drugged woman is never fully revealed. However, his guilt and complicity are firmly established. In fact, the incident will constantly haunt Lee, even though he continues to crave the approval of the sociopathic ringleader Gyu-sang, a decade later.

More out of boredom than spiritual yearning, Lee attends an Evangelical Christian service, but is struck by the church’s welcoming reception of visitors. Joining a young members’ study group, he comes face-to-face with Park Jang-mi, the victim from ten years ago. However, either due to the effects of the date-rape drugs or the suppression of memories, Park does not recognize him. Immediately obsessed with her, Lee stalkerishly follows her, contriving ways to worm into her life. It actually seems to work for a while, but Lee’s repressed emotions will come crashing out during the group’s retreat. Not knowing any other way to “fix” what they have done, the destabilized Lee starts to get Biblical with the unrepentant rapists.

Yes, this is strong stuff, especially given the unvarnished realism of director Lee’s stylistic approach. The one exception is the masterfully intense “confession” sequence during the retreat, in which you can practically see Lee Sung-gong’s psyche shatter on-screen. Fatal is a very unsettling film that never lets its problematic central character off the hook. It has been described as a revenge drama, but it does not fit comfortably into any category. It is just too raw and too intimate.

As Park, Yang Jo-a is a revelation. She sets the screen on fire during the film’s centerpiece scene. Audiences will not be able to breathe, let alone fidget. It is that kind of riveting. Yet, her earnestness and vulnerability throughout the film is also deeply moving. Likewise, Nam Yeon-u quietly but forcefully conveys just how deeply Lee’s guilt has arrested his psychological development. You can see he is just a shell of a person.

The third act mayhem might sound like a commercial concession, but every step feels like it follows according to a grimly fatalistic logic. It is a power film and a sit-up-and-take-notice debut for its director and much of the cast (especially Yang), but it not for the faint of heart or the overly sheltered viewer. Visceral and downright draining, Fatal is recommended for those who appreciate unsweetened black coffee drama, when it screens this Wednesday (5/13) at New York’s Asia Society.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:51pm.

By Joe Bendel. A man maintaining two households ought to at least be gainfully employed. Unfortunately, that is not the case for Kimiko Yamamoto’s deadbeat father, Shunsaku. Yet, for the sake of social convention and her heartsick mother, she will try to reconcile her parents. Even though it is hard to say no to Yamamoto, things still do not go according to her plans in Mikio Naruse’s breakout hit Wife! Be Like a Rose! which screens as part of Japan Speaks Out, MoMA’s current survey of early Japanese talking pictures.

When Shunsaku absconded to set up house with the scandalous former geisha Oyuki in the provinces, his family was appalled, especially his judgmental brother. Nevertheless, the plucky Kimiko Yamamoto more or less supports herself and her tragic-poetry writing mother on her office salary. Everyone is convinced old man Yamamoto will eventually do the right thing and come home. However, when her father never calls on his real family while visiting Tokyo for business, Yamamoto resolves to take matters into her own hands.

On a practical level, Yamamoto needs her father to finalize her engagement with her junior salaryman fiancé. She is also tired of watching her mother mope around the house. Originally, she plans to frog-march her father home from his den of vice, but the reality of his second home is much different than what she envisioned. Instead of a gold-digging harlot, Oyuki is the long-suffering mother of her half-sister and half-brother, who all live under much more impoverished conditions than her and her mother.

Rose is a gentle film, but it is chocked full of shrewd social commentary. It is fascinating to compare Kimiko Yamamoto, a career woman who is consciously navigating familial, social, and gender roles in an increasingly modernized world, with typical parts assigned to Hollywood actresses in the 1930s. Okay, so she is also cute. In fact, lead actress Sachiko Chiba was Naruse’s fiancée and chief muse at this time.

Their relationship would not last, but her performance holds up undeniably well. She is forceful and flirty, but also extraordinarily subtle and sensitive. It is rather remarkable to see her Yamamoto come to terms with her parents’ faults and failings. The dignity and fragility of Yuriko Hanabusa’s Oyuki is also quite touching.

Rose is considered the first Japanese film to be distributed in America, but evidently it did not exactly set the box office on fire. Despite its beauty, the way in which it subverts dramatic expectations will probably always trouble some viewers. That will be their loss. For Naruse admirers, it would be interesting to watch Rose in dialogue with his late career masterpiece, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs, about an aging Ginza hostess facing an uncertain future. Highly recommended, Wife! Be Like a Rose! screens again this Sunday (5/17) as part of MoMA’s Japan Speaks Out film series.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on May 12th, 2015 at 10:50pm.

By Joe Bendel. How did an impossibly serene Dane wind up in the middle of a struggle for the soul of Tibetan Buddhism? Along with her husband Ole, Hannah Nydahl earned a place at the table as arguably the religion’s busiest Twentieth Century evangelists. She was scrupulously spiritual rather than ideological, but Nydahl’s travels took her to some of the most politically contentious corners of the globe. Marta György-Kessler & Adam Penny chronicle her life in Hannah: Buddhism’s Untold Journey, which has three more special screenings this Friday and Saturday at the Rubin Museum of Art.

The Nydahls were basically hippies when they somehow beamed themselves to Kathmandu, but thanks to the innocence of youth, the revered Bhutanese lama Lopon Tsechu Rinpoche first took them under his wing, before entrusting their studies to His Holiness the 16th Gyalwa Karmapa, one of the most venerated lines of reincarnated lamas in Tibetan Buddhism. Before his death, the Karmapa sent them back to the West to share their teachings. After a bit of scuffling, the Nydahls soon found they had a talent for outreach, becoming tireless road warriors.

Some of the film’s most intriguing sequences contrast the guileless Nydahls with the extreme socio-political climates they blithely walked into. Bizarrely, the Communist government granted the Nydahls permission to visit pre-martial law Poland, in the vain hope Tibetan Buddhism would undermine the Catholic Church. Needless to say, it was a tense trip, but the bonds of some lasting friendships were formed then.

However, Untold is truly newsworthy for its insider account of the disputed elevation of the 17th Karmapa. It is a case Westerners might be hazily aware of. Communist China (Tibet’s atheist occupiers, who had previously denied the legitimacy of reincarnation) officially recognized one Karmapa, while leaders in exile recognized another. György-Kessler & Penny provide full context to the controversy, explaining the implications of each development, while largely relying on footage of the Nydahls recorded in-the-moment.

To their credit, the Nydahls did not rush to judgement. However, when the time came, they acted decisively to protect His Holiness, Trinley Thaye Dorje, the rival of China’s compliant candidate. Just when you thought the Communist government could not sink any lower, György-Kessler & Penny document thuggish behavior that manages to lower the bar even further.

For those who are fascinated by Tibetan Buddhism and Chinese geo-politics, the Karmapa crisis is clearly the film’s centerpiece. However, for the more right-brained and sentimentally inclined, the grand romance shared by the Nydahls always takes center stage. As a former friend and student of Hannah Nydahl, György-Kessler clearly has a deep appreciation for them as individuals. The portrait that emerges is sensitively rendered, but still quite intimate.

Frankly, the Nydahls were disgustingly attractive, charming, and calm, but they used their gifts selflessly on behalf of their faith and for the sake of others. You can get a sense of their stature from the interviews His Holiness, the 17th Karmapa granted the filmmakers (but not the other guy). There is a lot to learn from Untold, but it is also a touching story. Highly recommended, Hannah: Buddhism’s Untold Journey screens again Friday night (5/8) and twice on Saturday (5/9) at the Rubin Museum of Art, Manhattan’s home for Himalayan art and culture.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on May 7th, 2015 at 11:50am.