Month: July 2015

By Joe Bendel. L. Ron Hubbard would be impressed. The leaders of the God’s Water cult come from the advertising industry and they explicitly refer to the “religion industry.” They make no secret of their commercial ambitions, even when in the presence of cult members. Business is on the upswing thanks to their charismatic priestess, but her family issues will engulf the entire cult in screenwriter-director Masashi Yamamoto’s The Voice of Water, which screens as a selection of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Lovely and serene-looking, the Zainichi Min-jung is a natural fronting God’s Water. You could say it is in her blood. She hails from a long line of shimbang, women who practice a regional form of shamanism on Jeju Island. Everyone knows she is faking it, even their core followers, but there is something reassuring about her presence. However, Min-jung starts to maybe-sort of believe in her hereditary powers at an inopportune time. Internal dissension is on the rise and her own lowlife father Mikio/Mickey might pull the entire group into his chaos. To avoid his Yakuza loan shark, Mikio has been crashing in the God’s Water headquarters. He has even won over some of the office staff, despite her protests.

Arguably, Voice is the greatest, under-heralded find at this year’s Japan Cuts. You will be hard-pressed to find a similarly matter-of-fact, cynically business-oriented perspective on cults and their followers in a year of film festivals. It is particularly damning when showing how the need to belong trumps all common sense, keeping members blindly devoted even when they know full well it is all just a racket. The specifics of the Korean-Japanese Zainichi experience and the Korean shamanic tradition further enrich the film, grounding it in a very distinctive cultural context.

As a result, Voice could well be the definitive cultist film of the decade, but it is also a Yakuza film. In fact, sensitive viewers should be warned, there is at least one tough to watch scene involving Mikio’s nemesis. Yet, it makes the uni-named Hyunri’s lead performance even braver. She is absolutely riveting and acutely human (in every messy way possible) as the inspiring Min-jung. As Mikio, Akio Kamataki is also achingly tragic, while Kei Oda is unsettlingly sinister as Takazawa, the gangster.

Yamamoto draws out the punishing third act just a tad too long, but his patience and attention to detail creating the God’s Water universe is completely fascinating to behold. It is very different from Sion Sono’s Love Exposure, but it is just as powerful in its own way. Very highly recommended, The Voice of Water screens tomorrow night (7/17) at the Japan Society, as part of the 2015 Japan Cuts.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on July 17th, 2015 at 6:34pm.

By Joe Bendel. Think of it as a hikikomori Rocky, but we are definitely talking about the original, gritty and down-to-earth film—not the flashier sequels. Ichiko is a woman in need of empowerment, who looks for it in the boxing ring during Masaharu Take’s 100 Yen Love, which screened as a selection of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Ichiko is a drop-out/near-shut-in who is content to live off her bento box-making mother. Unfortunately, when her divorced younger sister moves in with her young son, the cramped and increasingly tense environment forces Ichiko to move out. To her credit, she also takes a job at the local convenience store. An excessively high self-image has never been her problem. Unfortunately, that also makes relationships difficult – but again, she gives it a good try with Yuji Kano, a thirty seven year-old boxer about to age out of the sport, who is almost as socially clueless as she is.

When Kano eventually dumps Ichiko, she finds solace training in his former gym. For the first time, she develops a real goal: attaining professional status and having an official bout before she in turn ages out (thirty-two being the magic number for female boxers in Japan). As is often the case, that drive helps her become more confident in other spheres of life. Does 100 Yen end with a climatic fight? You bet, but it still largely avoids most of the boxing movie clichés.

Watching 100 Yen back-to-back with Asleep really proves how chameleon-like festival special guest Sakura Ando truly is. In both films she is on-screen carrying the dramatic load nearly every second. They are each highly damaged characters, but in radically different ways, yet she is completely convincing in the two parts. Viewers should be warned, 100 Yen might sound like a quirky woman finding herself story, but Ichiko has to deal with some rough stuff, including a sexual assault. However, there is also real growth and unusual honesty baked into the mix.

Ando is rather extraordinary portraying Ichiko’s transformation. It is a quiet but violent performance. She also has impressive chops in the ring. It is her show and don’t you forget it, but she gets tons of support from a first class supporting ensemble. Saori Koide, Osamu Shigematsu, and Yozaburo Ito all have powerful moments as Ichiko’s sister, her boxing manager, and her father, respectively.

100 Yen is not a showy film, but periodically screenwriter Shin Adachi drops a line that will knock you back on your heels. It also features an awesomely funky soundtrack composed by Shogo Kaida with enough heavy drums to power several movies. Frankly, this film is nothing like what it probably sounds like. Recommended for fans of realistic underdog dramas, 100 Yen Love screens tonight (7/16) at the Japan Society, as part of the 2015 Japan Cuts.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on July 17th, 2015 at 6:34pm.

By Joe Bendel. Brinksmanship is always hardest on the soldiers and sailors who serve on the brink. Such has definitely been the case along the naval boundary that serves as an extension of the 38th Parallel, dividing South and North Korea. The ROK battleships guarding against incursions are forbidden from engaging DPRK forces first, regardless of their provocations. This ironclad rule of engagement is just fine with the North. In fact, they were counting on it during their sneak attack timed to coincide with the 2002 World Cup, co-hosted by South Korea and Japan. The resulting Second Battle of Yeonpyeong is dramatized with scrupulous respect for the historical record in Kim Hak-soon’s Northern Limit Line, which opens this Friday in the Tri-State Area.

Yoon Yeong-ha had only been captain of PKM 357 a short time before the fateful Northern Korean attack. As the ambitious son of Yoon Doo-ho, a former officer still respected by his colleagues despite his fall from grace, Capt. Yoon is determined his high-profile tour of duty patrolling the Northern Limit Line (NLL) will advance his career. For the crew of PKM 357, this means a whole lot of drills. Nevertheless, Capt. Yoon starts to warm to his men, especially his helmsman, CPO Hang Sang-guk. Of course, the South Korean team’s unprecedented World Cup drive also helps unify the skipper and his crew. Unfortunately, it also provided an opportune time for the DPRK to strike.

As is always the case, there were signs of the high seas ambush coming, but Kim makes it clear they were not adequately analyzed or acted upon. Needless to say, the men of PKM 357 did not give up without a fight. In fact, their heroic last stand is the bruising spectacle centerpiece of the film, running over half an hour’s worth of carnage. Arguably, NLL constitutes some of the best cinematic warfighting since Fury—and Kim does it on boats.

However, his screenplay devotes even more time to humanizing the men of PKM 357. Throughout the first half of the film, we learn in no uncertain terms, medic Park Dong-hyeok is devoted to his deaf mother, petty officer Jo Chun-hyoung has a baby girl who just celebrated her first birthday, CPO Hang has nerve damage in his hand and a soon to be pregnant wife, while Capt. Yoon and his colleague Capt. Choi are ambiguously attracted to each other. Kim’s sympathies are admirable, but a lot of the preamble to battle-stations could have been tightened up considerably.

Still, the cast is first-rate, including the appropriately youthful Lee Hyun-woo, who barely looks old enough to graduate from high school as Park the medic. Jin Goo and Kim Ji-hoon are also terrific as the intense CPO Hang and easy-going Jo, respectively. Not to be spoilery, but many of the primary ensemble have death scenes and they each carry it off convincingly, but also with dignity. Yet, it is Kim Hee-jung who really lowers the boom as Park’s mother.

Most of the naval action we get in movies happens below the water in submarines, so NLL’s clash of battleships is in itself distinctive. However, the real mind-blowing fact is that the dynastic Kim regime could launch such a blatant act of aggression and face no real consequences from the global community. That just guarantees they will do it again. NLL provides a timely reality check, as well as delivering some very human drama and smashing sea battle set pieces. Recommended as a very strong naval war film and a moving tribute to South Korea’s fallen heroes, Northern Limit Line opens this Friday (7/17) in Queens at the AMC Park Terrace, in New Jersey at the Edgewater Multiplex, and in Los Angeles at the CGV Cinema.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on July 16th, 2015 at 11:05pm.

By Joe Bendel. Kingo Shimura is sort of like a one-man 47 Ronin. He even references them himself. Unfortunately, Shimura outlived his times as well as his lord. The Edo Era is over, but Shimura’s disgrace continues in Setsuro Wakamatsu’s Snow on the Blades, which screened as a selection of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Lord Naosuke Ii was a high ranking Shogunate official, who was too moderate in his reformist and westernizing policies for some and too extreme for others. He cracked down on high ranking nobles who opposed him, but left plenty of disgruntled ronin at loose ends. In 1860, he really was assassinated during Sakuradamon Incident. That was exactly what Shimura was supposed to prevent as his recently appointed chief of security.

Disgraced by his failure, Shimura is forbidden from committing seppuku until he finds and decapitates at least one of the surviving assassins. Twelve of the ronin either performed seppuku there on the spot, or were accounted for shortly thereafter. That left five elusive assassins for Shimura to track. Unfortunately, as the years go by, the fugitives die off through subsequent misadventures. Eventually, the guilt-ridden Jyubei Sahashi is the only one still at large. However, formalized vengeance taking is banned during the Meiji Restoration.

Throughout all his tribulations and humiliations, Shimura’s wife Setsu loyally supports him. Similarly, Sahashi is guardedly devoted to the next-door widow and her young daughter, but he is incapable of committing to them, because he lives looking over his shoulder. It is exactly those human relationships that concern Snow more than hack-and-slash action.

Snow is a gloriously old fashioned tragedy, boasting genuine emotional depth and historical sweep. It also suggests a little bit of westernization is not a bad thing, while recognizing the value of tradition. In fact, that tension helps make Snow such a richly humanistic revisionist Jidaigeki film. Frankly, it is not hard to imagine Clint Eastwood remaking it as an early 20th century western.

As Shimura, Kiichi Nakai is appropriately both stately and hardnosed. Yet, he just knee-caps viewers in his tender scenes with Setsu, played with exquisite sensitivity and warmth, by Ryoko Hirosue. Hiroshi Abe (perhaps too closely associated with the Thermae Romae franchise) is severely reserved, yet expresses considerable angst and regret as the outlaw Sahashi. It is an impressive ensemble, especially including “Living Treasure” kabuki and screen actor Kichiemon Nakamura, making his return to film after a nineteen year hiatus as Lord Ii.

Everyone brought their A-game to Snow, including Joe Hisashi, who contributes one of his best non-Studio Ghibli scores. It is quite lovely, giving the film an acoustic vibe that is mournful but also hopeful. Sober and elegant, Snow on the Blades is a wonderfully satisfying film. Although the self-styled conflict-resolution industry is mostly bunky hokum, this really is a film that they could bury some hatchets with. Very highly recommended, its screened this past Tuesday (7/14) at the Japan Society, as part of the 2015 Japan Cuts.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on July 16th, 2015 at 11:05pm.

By Joe Bendel. Shortly after his 1989 source novel was published, author Yasushi Sato took his own life. Clearly, it did not sufficiently cheer him up. Decades later, director Mipo O has helmed a big screen adaptation, showing a pronounced empathy for that sort of dark and depressed state of being, despite her reputation for light comedy. Life is nasty and brutish for two young lovers. Any respite they find in each other’s arms will be paid for on credit with future misery in O’s The Light Shines Only There, which screens as a selection of this year’s Japan Cuts, the Festival of New Japanese Film in New York.

Tatsuo Sato has basically given up living. He shambles through the streets and pachinko parlors of the blighted Hokkaido port town of Hakodate like a zombie. Yet, for some strange reason, Takuji Oshiro will not stop talking to him. Somehow, he even drags Sato back to his family’s beach shack, where his put-upon sister Chinatsu serves them lunch, without a smile. Nonetheless, there is a bit of something that passes between her and Sato. It is even there when he drunkenly stumbles into the bar where she works as a “hostess.”

Despite several false starts, Sato and Oshiro become lovers, at least as best they can. It is safe to say they both have severe intimacy issues. Further complicating matters, the local mobbed up squid factory owner considers her his personal property. He is a violent lover, but she is stuck with his abuse, because he is the guarantor for her brother’s parole.

So, happy times. Nevertheless, it is hard to truly be depressed by a film so well acted and executed. As Chinatsu Oshiro, Chizuru Ikewaki is a staggering revelation. While in real life she is quite stunning, for Light she is glammed down and bedraggled to truly look like a cast-aside victim of life’s rottenness. Her performance is brave as hell and relentlessly honest, forcing us to watch the explicit realities of those who subsist in the margins of polite society.

By design, it is much harder to draw a bead on Gou Ayano’s distant Sato, at least until his former boss from the stone quarry (nicely played with gruff sensitivity by Shohei Hino) arrives to fill in some backstory. As annoying as his character might be, Masaki Suda’s Takuji ultimately provides the film’s tragic heart.

For the purposes of easy symbolic short-hand, water is often associated with purification, but not in Light. Instead, screenwriter Ryo Takada’s adaptation of Yasushi Sato’s novel contrasts the healthy cleanliness of the mountains where Tatsuo Sato once worked, with the predatory corruption of the beachfront town.

It is potent stuff, but absolute Kryptonite for the Academy, who declined to nominate Light in the foreign language category, even though Japan duly submitted it. They would have much better award season luck with a classy historical. On the other hand, this is a film that will speak to young and disillusioned audiences much more directly for years to come. Driven by Ikewaki’s frighteningly frank performance, The Light Shines Only There is recommended for those who appreciate uncompromisingly naturalistic drama. It screened this past Wednesday (7/15) at the Japan Society, as part of the 2015 Japan Cuts.

LFM GRADE: A-

Posted on July 16th, 2015 at 11:04pm.