Day: July 18, 2015

By Joe Bendel. The greatest victims of Japanese wartime propaganda were the Japanese people themselves. When the militarist government disseminated apocalyptic warnings that the conquering Allies would rape all women and sterilize all men, the average citizenry largely believed it, so they resolved to fight to the end, because there was no other choice. Yet, in early 1945, just about everyone could tell how the winds were blowing. The home front is an inescapably depressing place for nineteen year-old Satoko, but she will still blossom into a woman right on schedule in Haruhiko Arai’s This Country’s Sky (a.k.a. When I was Most Beautiful), which screened as a selection of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Today, Tokyo’s Suginami is sort of like the Japanese Upper Westside, but in 1945 it was practically a ghost town. The government imposed rigid restrictions on internal migration, but those who are allowed relocate to the countryside, even though there are reports that life is just as hard there. Living with her widowed mother, Satoko gets by almost okay working as a civil defense office clerk. Unfortunately, making ends meet becomes even tougher when Satoko convinces her reluctant mother to take in her bombed out aunt. Despite her promises, Auntie is mostly dead weight around the house, but Satoko gets some help here and there from their neighbor, Mr. Ichikawa.

The thirty-eight year-old banker just might make it through the war undrafted. He had the good fortune of taking his military physical in a district full of brawny farm lads, where he looked sickly in comparison. He also happens to be married, but his wife was assigned to a government agricultural coop in the countryside, allowing his eye to rove towards Satoko. Her mother recognizes his intentions, but she allows Satoko to continue spending time with him, because different rules apply during war, especially the waning days for the losing side. However, she probably does not realize how much Satoko reciprocates his interest.

While reasonably prolific as a screenwriter, Sky is the first film Arai has helmed since 1997. His sense of visual composition remains undiminished, instilling a vivid sense of Tokyo as a veritable wartime ghost town. Without question, Arai is more interested in exploring the tenor of the times than digging into the melodramatic details of Satoko’s problematic romance. The vibe is not unlike Yoji Yamada’s Kabei: Our Mother, but it does not have the same degree of tragic elegance.

Clearly, Fumi Nikaido works a heck of a lot. Here, she shrewdly plays Satoko with the reserve and maturity of someone who came of age during wartime privation. It is a smart performance that pulls us in, rather than indulging in a lot of melodramatic excess. Still, Hiroki Hasegawa’s Ichikawa seems so conspicuously oily, it is hard to fathom her attraction. However, Youki Kudoh is wonderfully down-to-earth (and even surprisingly sensual) as Satoko’s mother. Frankly, the inter-family relationships between mother, daughter, and aunt are just as important as the simmering attraction shared by Satoko and her neighbor—and Kudoh is the key to their dynamics.

In a way, Sky is something of a revisionist war film that consciously tries to remind the world of the very real suffering of the Japanese people during the war. However, unlike Yamada’s under-valued film, it never explores the domestic dissent to the Imperial war policies. Regardless, it is well worth seeing for the remarkable work of Nikaido, Kudoh, and the design team that recreated bomb-scarred Tokyo in such detail. Recommended for mature viewers who understand the events of the Pacific Theater in their full context, This Country’s Sky screened today (7/18) at the Japan Society, as part of the 2015 Japan Cuts.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on July 18th, 2015 at 10:00pm.

By Joe Bendel. Feudalism was never any fun for the peasants. It was especially hard for the farmers, woodsmen, and iron-workers of Sanchu. They were regularly transferred from lord to lord, so each could collect his taxes within the same year. In 1726, they rose up and said enough. Unfortunately, factionalism would be their undoing. The cowardly Jihei was not much help either. It is through his unreliable eyes that viewers witness the revolt and its aftermath in Juichiro Yamasaki’s Sanchu Uprising: Voices at Dawn, which screens as the closing film of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Jihei’s brother-in-law Shinroku is probably the only member of his wife’s more well-to-do family who likes the roguish black sheep. As the various lords continue to exploit the region, Shinroku naturally expects Jihei to join the brewing rebellion. However, the not-terribly-principled Jihei has decidedly mixed feelings. Sadly, his worst instincts are stoked by the spirit of Manzo, a recent friend, who took the fall with the Shogunate authorities years ago for a dodgy scheme Jihei was running. Guilt mixed with fear will not lead to good decision-making for the sad sack Jihei.

Shinroku and Jihei are farmers, as is the charismatic leader of the rebellion. However, the woodsmen provided the movement’s critical mass. When they are sold out at the bargaining table, Shinroku knows the samurai and nobles will be able to successfully divide and conquer.

Even though it is a downer, Sanchu’s first act chronicling the ill-fated Uprising is by far the strongest. Watching the older and sadder Jihei wrestling with his angst and misgivings is not nearly as compelling. Frankly, the post-uprising sequences are over-stuffed with inconsequential encounters and meta-postscripts set in the present day. Still, there are some striking black-and-white animated interludes that give the film an unusual flavor.

Although his character is a problematic focal point, Naohisa Nakagaki shows an impressive range as Jihei. The large ensemble is wildly talented, particularly Kano Kajiwara, who is quite touching as the long-suffering Tami. However, they are often laboring against Yamasaki’s artificial stylization. Yet, that strangely seems to work in the case of Ayako Sasaki’s discordant, percussion-heavy experimental jazz score. It is certainly not the sort of music that lulls you into complacency.

Almost three hundred years after the Uprising, governments are still leveling punitive taxes on the productive classes. Indeed, during its best moments, Sanchu leads us to question just how far we have socially advanced since the feudal times. It is an uneven film, but when it connects, it hits hard. Recommended on balance for those who appreciate Jidaigeki films with a contemporary sensibility, Sanchu Uprising: Voices at Dawn screens Sunday night (7/19), at the Japan Society, as the closing film of Japan Cuts ’15.

LFM GRADE: B-

Posted on July 18th, 2015 at 9:59pm.

By Joe Bendel. You have to give credit to these four hard-partying Kolkata club kids. When they stumble into a Hostel-like hotel, they have the good sense to get the heck out of there. Unfortunately, it turns out to be a case of out-of-the-frying-pan-into-the-fire in Q & Nikon’s Ludo, which screened tonight during the 2015 Fantasia International Film Festival in Montreal.

Ria and her BFF Payal are girls who just want to have fun. They have hooked up with two slicksters who just want to have sex. Ria and Payal are not opposed, at least not after some drinking and dancing, but finding a motel that is no-tell enough in socially conservative Kolkata is a tricky proposition. After scrambling out of the aforementioned suspicious love hotel like Shaggy and Scooby, they resolve to just sneak into the mall after closing. The air conditioning is the key selling point.

It is all good, clean fun for a while, until the four carousers realize they are not alone in the mall. They are sharing the space with two Grunge-ish evil entities who have one thing on their minds: blood. Just who are these malevolent beings? Q and Nikon are glad you asked, because most of the third act is dedicated to their backstory—and it’s a killer. It involves an ancient, sentient dice game that is profoundly evil, but fatally seductive.

Q and Nikon are two filmmakers, but grateful poster designers will never have a problem laying out their names on a one-sheet. Ludo’s jaded perspective on modern Indian life will come as no surprise to those familiar with Q’s banned opus Gandu. Nevertheless, even by horror film standards, it is an unusually dark film, in every sense of the word. It depicts the world as a predatory place, dating back centuries. While Q & Nikon are short on proactive recommendations, they seem to take perverse glee in giving the finger to polite Bengali and Bollywood cinema. There are no sentimental love songs here, but driving club music is certainly a prominent element of their cocktail.

The small ensemble, led by Subholina Sen, is sufficient to the task, performing at a level equal to what you might see in a typical Blumhouse film. Although it was probably shot on a shoestring, Devika Dave’s design team created some suitably creepy props. Q & Nikon also fully capitalize on their nocturnal urban settings.

Knowing the subversive cultural context of Ludo definitely adds to its enjoyment, but it is the energy and attitude that really hook viewers. It is a relatively straight forward narrative, yet Q & Nikon manage to upend several genre clichés. Enjoyably strange and gory, Ludo is exactly the adrenaline shot to the heart South Asian horror cinema needs. Recommended for fans who want to see something different, Ludo screened tonight (7/18) as part of this year’s Fantasia.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on July 18th, 2015 at 9:59pm.