Review: Loving Highsmith

Posted on November 1, 2023 by philipbrasor

A feature documentary about the novelist Patricia Highsmith makes perfect sense, since so many of her stories have been adapted into movies, thus providing perfect visual illustrations of her themes and atmospheric writing. However, this Swiss production is mostly about Highsmith’s private life, in particular her romantic life, which was turbulent but mostly hidden from view since she only had affairs with women. A few critics complain that the director, Eva Vitija, goes light on Highsmith’s notorious antisemitism and equivocates on her obsessiveness over the women she pursued. But in any case, the person who emerges from this portrait isn’t particularly likable. Vitija tries to justify her behavior by basically saying this is how great artists often are, but even the work can be off-putting for reasons that have nothing to do with style or form. The characters in the most famous books, Strangers on a Train, the Ripley series, are monsters, and she seems to like them that way.

Too much of the running time is devoted to Highsmith’s upbringing. The howlingly incongruous interviews with her Texas relatives shed absolutely no light on what it was about her time there that contributed to her personality. Though they describe her as a tomboy, they seem almost shocked when reminded she was a lesbian. After her mother remarried and moved to New York, she followed when she was 12. Vitija insists Highsmith “adored” her mother, and that the love was not returned, thus scarring the child in ways that may have come out in the resentments that fueled her novels, which most people categorize as “crime fiction,” a label she hated. In any event, once she was old enough, she legally cut her relationship to her mother, assuming that she had always been emotionally alone so why not just be financially separate as well. And while she hit pay dirt with her first published work, Strangers, which, thanks to Alfred Hitchcock’s movie version, turned her into a global star, she never really appreciated the limelight. Much is made of her various real estate purchases in the northeast United States and Europe, where she resided in out-of-the-way places, usually behind stone fences and dense gardens. At some point her promiscuity started ruling her life, and there are extensive interviews with several long-term lovers who attest to her volatile temper and lifelong addiction to alcohol. 

Consequently, the book that gets the most attention in the documentary is her “girls novel,” The Price of Salt, published pseudonymously initially and later reprinted under its more famous title, Carol, which Todd Haynes made into a movie; and while the duplicitous, murderous Tom Ripley is credibly presented as being the character that most mirrors Highsmith herself (the author admitted she prefers writing male characters), the lovers in Carol paint a better picture of how Highsmith imagined her life would turn out. “Writing is a substitute for the life I cannot live,” she says in one interview, though many people would say she lived a charmed life—she made lots of money doing what she wanted, had many affairs with women she clearly loved, and never had to compromise her values or beliefs to make a living. She was a nasty specimen, but one that offered a prime example of the creative spirit let loose—maybe a little too loose.

In English, French and German. Opens Nov. 3 in Tokyo at Cinema Qualite Shinjuku (03-3352-5645), Bunkamura Le Cinema Shibuya Miyashita (050-6875-5280). 

Loving Highsmith home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2022 Ensemble Films/Lichtblick Film

Posted in Movies | Tagged | Leave a comment

Review: Hypnotic

Posted on October 25, 2023 by philipbrasor

Per its title, Robert Rodriguez’s uncharacteristically brainy sci-fi thriller has a disorienting effect on the viewer that may result in a condition that many of the characters in the story suffer from: They don’t remember anything of what they just did. After watching the film, I found myself struggling to piece together the particulars of the convoluted concept behind the crimes being investigated, which connect to a larger conspiracy that is meant to be horrifying but requires a certain leap of understanding that I was unable to accomplish. 

Ben Affleck plays it straight as Danny Rourke, a police detective who is still mourning the disappearance of his daughter at the hands of a kidnapper. Though the kidnapper was eventually caught, he has no memory of abducting the girl and therefore cannot reveal whether she is alive or where she is. Some time later, during a particularly exciting bank heist, Rourke discovers that the people carrying it out have been hypnotized by a criminal mastermind with expertise in the art of suggestion. At this point, the possibilities are intriguing for a fairly conventional police procedural, since Rourke makes a connection between the kidnapping and the robbery, but any moviegoer conversant in thriller tropes will automatically see a red flag: Isn’t it too much of a coincidence that this particular detective is tasked with solving the robbery, especially since he was pointed to it by an anonymous tip? As it happens, the tipster turns out to be psychic (Alice Braga) who warns Rourke of the mastermind’s particular powers, and from there the detective learns about a shady government program to develop such powers for its own sake. 

The movie’s swift, deep dive into an alternate reality loses the original plot, and as is often the case with alternate realities, characters are never what they seem, and thus the viewer just gets frustrated with the liberties that Rodriguez takes with the whole concept. You can’t rely on anyone or any situation, and so the story can be anything it wants to be at any given moment. In the end, this bait-and-switch method seems to be a means of hiding the fact that the story, which Rodriguez has been trying to sell for twenty years, was never much to begin with. Without Affleck’s participation, most likely it wouldn’t have been made.

Opens Oct. 27 in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Nihonbashi (050-6868-5060), Toho Cinemas Hibiya (050-6868-5068), Marunouchi Piccadilly (050-6875-0075), Shinjuku Wald 9 (03-5369-4955), Shinjuku Piccadilly (050-6861-3011), Toho Cinemas Shinjuku (050-6868-5063), Human Trust Cinema Shibuya (03-5468-5551), Toho Cinemas Roppongi Hills (050-6868-5024).

Hypnotic home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2023 Hypnotic Film Holdings LLC

Posted in Movies | Tagged | 2 Comments

BIFF 2023: Interview with Nobuhiro Suwa

Posted on October 21, 2023 by philipbrasor

The dean of this year’s Chanel X BIFF Asian Film Academy (BAFA) was veteran Japanese director Nobuhiro Suwa (M/other, Paris je t’aime), who seemed particularly enthused by both the process and the goals of the Academy. For those who don’t know, BAFA selects 24 budding Asian filmmakers, brings them to Busan in the middle of September, and has them work on short films that are to be completed by the end of the Busan International Film Festival. Though such a task is daunting in and of itself, one of the most important aspects of the work is that it’s carried out while the festival itself is going on. And while most of the fellows don’t have much time to watch movies or schmooze with visiting film professionals, the fact that it’s all going on around them has a stimulating effect on their work. 

–How many times have you attended BIFF, and what do you see as its main role?

I’ve been to BIFF three times—this is my third. I came as a jury member once. The second time I brought my film, The Lion Sleeps Tonight, and now this third time I am the dean of BAFA. My first  impression was that this film festival was really young and had a lot of energy. You can see that energy in how much the people who attend it love film. It seems like the whole city of Busan gives off this kind of energy. I was very envious. In contrast, the Tokyo International Film Festival (TIFF) has not played a proper role as a film festival for the world, but Busan does. It has global recognition. You can see how Busan is the core of one of the biggest networks in Asia showcasing films so as to spread the word internationally about Asian cinema. 

–In that regard, how important is Busan to Japanese filmmakers?

When I looked at this year’s lineup I saw the names of some of the students I taught at Tokyo University of the Arts who were bringing their films to the festival. Busan provides a very good gateway for young filmmakers to introduce their films to the rest of the world and to other film festivals. But when it comes to TIFF, even if you present your film there it doesn’t provide a gateway to other international film festivals. When I see emerging filmmakers like Ryusuke Hamaguchi presenting their films at international festivals in Japan, they don’t really reach out into the world, even if the work is amazing. But festivals like Busan and San Sebastian and Locarno lend their films prestige, and Busan provides a stage that propels them out into the world. 

–Can you describe the special advantages that BAFA offers the fellows?

There is a also a film workshop attached to Tokyo Filmex called Tokyo Talents that is supposed to foster young Asian filmmakers. It’s similar to BAFA but run quite differently. There the young filmmakers pitch their projects and, depending on those pitches, they are matched up with producers. But it only goes up to the development stage. What’s unique about BAFA is that the fellows experience production and creation all the way up to the screening of their films. There’s a lot of instruction involving production knowhow, so what they learn from the program is quite diverse and tremendous. You can see that diversity in the wide range of nationalities represented. Some of the countries the fellows are from don’t have formal film schools where young filmmakers can learn practical skills. 

–I just interviewed a young man from Indonesia. He never studied film, and just submitted a short he made on his own. He has ideas but no technical skills, so Tokyo Talents would have been useless.

Some fellows are from places where there are only independent filmmakers making independent films, so it’s very lonely work. And that’s why they are here with other fellows. When they have a chance to meet people who think the way they do even though they are from a different country, and are of a similar age, maybe it will spur their creativity. 

–What do you see as your role as the dean?

I have been involved in film education for a long time. I taught at a university and also ran workshops for kids. Through these experiences I devised a consistent philosophy, and in terms of filmmaking I have more experience than these young people, but when it comes to music and fine arts I think that extensive experience doesn’t always help the creative process. It’s wrong to say, “I know this but you don’t know it, so I’ll teach you.” It doesn’t really work that way. When you are teaching something the recipient of that instruction should not know anything. I want to be in a different position. As long as we have a common idea with those who have a desire to create something, I just want to stand by them.

–Can you describe your instruction method? What actually happens during the production?

I only watch.

–Do they ask you for advice?

We don’t talk much. It’s almost the same as a children’s workshop. You try to go into this group of children and speak to them, but then it is just me talking to each child. But if I go away they talk to each other. That is important for children. When it comes to particular skills necessary at the moment, like lighting adjustment, then I will make a comment.

–What qualities in a young filmmaker are important for them to become a good filmmaker?

Positivity. 

–Meaning optimism?

A director has to care about many things. What is the weather tomorrow? Is the actor in a good frame of mind? Any negative characteristics get in the way of moving forward. {Director] Kiyoshi Kurosawa always says, “Everything will be OK, whatever happens.” Without that way of thinking, it will be very painful for the filmmaker. When it comes to making a film more contemporary or more avant garde, probably if you just use your existing skills it won’t be enough. In that case you have to be creative. Jean-Luc Godard once said that when you deal with amateurs you have to be a professional, and when you deal with professionals you have to act like an amateur. You have to hold this ambivalence. When I see an amateur, they are like someone who says, “Why do we need a script?” They’re like kids. But when you’re a professional, you take the script for granted. Then there’s this question of: Why do I do this? That’s what comes from being creative. 

Posted in Movies | Leave a comment

Review: The Point Men

Posted on October 20, 2023 by philipbrasor

One of three mainstream Korean blockbusters released recently that take place in a war-torn country—the other two being Escape from Mogadishu and Ransomed—and one of two based on a true incident, The Point Men, like Ransomed, deals with a hostage crisis in the Middle East and for reasons that aren’t too difficult to figure out, their structures and overall dramatic arc are almost identical. There’s an initially self-serving but eventually self-sacrificing diplomat who takes it upon himself to go over the heads of his superiors and negotiate with the kidnappers on his own terms. More significantly, there is a Korean national-gone-native in the respective countries where the movies are set who acts as the interlocutor with the foreign adversaries—in either case a totally fictional character and one who provides the comic relief that almost all Korean action films require, though, to me, the main utility of these characters is that they obviate the necessity for other Korean characters to speak English at length. Veteran star Hwang Jung-min, an actor I usually like, has already proved himself a terrible English speaker, and here, as the foreign ministry negotiator, he’s forced to use the language a little too much, so the relief provided by the interpreter is more than just comic.

Also like Ransomed, The Point Men is pitched as a kind of contentious buddy flick, though in the former the combo was the civil servant and the comic relief guy. Here, it’s the civil servant and a rogue Korean intelligence agent who wanders the Middle East doing God knows what in order to redeem himself for the death of a colleague at the hands of the Islamic State. (We first meet him getting sprung from prison for counterfeiting.) As played by the hunky-by-edict Hyun Bin, an actor who is guaranteed to boost box office outside of Korea (maybe inside as well, but these days those bets are off), this character, Park Dae-sik, really has nothing to do except bounce insults off of Jung Jae-ho (Kwang) in his attempt to save the day himself by rescuing 23 Korean missionaries who’ve been kidnapped by the Taliban in Aghanistan in 2007. This setup is one of the clearest examples ever of the cliche “based on a true incident” being deflective bullshit, because while a group of missionaries really was kidnapped by the Taliban in 2007, they certainly weren’t rescued by these two clowns in this way. Firstly, by all reports, the Korean people were quite pissed off about the missionaries, who used a loophole to sneak into a Muslim-majority country to proselytize and then cost the government a lot of money to secure their release—an aspect that is hardly discussed in the film. Secondly, Jung’s go-it-alone methodology when his superiors opt to try and rescue the hostages by force seems patently unreasonable, and was obviously contrived to inject dramatic tension into a story that didn’t really need it had it been told straight. And thirdly, Park’s existence is never less than superfluous, except for the mandatory car chase in which, riding a pilfered motorcycle, he endeavors to retrieve a couple million dollars in cash from some scammers in a GMC truck. 

The script occasionally shows signs of intelligence, especially with regard to how difficult it is for diplomats with no practical on-site experience to predict how representatives of different cultures are going to react to their overtures; but by the same token, the make-or-break final negotiation is so tortuously constructed for the sake of suspense that it inadvertently takes on a comic tone, as if Jung, who initially was more worried about PR than saving lives, turns into Super Negotiator simply and suddenly by force of will, rendering his Taliban counterpart a receding puddle in the face of his formidable intellect. The heroics in The Point Men is the whole point, but who really believes government factotums think or act this way? Certainly not the normally, and rightly, cynical South Korean public. 

In Korean, English, Pashtun and Arabic. Now playing in Tokyo at Toho Cinemas Hibiya (050-6868-5068), Toho Cinemas Shinjuku (050-6868-5063). 

The Point Men home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2023 Plus M Entertainment, Watermelon Pictures

Posted in Movies | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Review: La syndicaliste

Posted on October 19, 2023 by philipbrasor

I normally use the chosen English title for non-English language films in this space, but the one the producers hit upon for this French thriller, The Sitting Duck, sounded too much like something Jerry Lewis would have directed, and though I’m aware French cinephiles adore Lewis, it seems highly inappropriate in this case, so I’m sticking with the original French title, which translates as “The Trade Unionist.” That’s more fitting, if perhaps a bit too generic for the sexual politics on display, since the protagonist is the union representative for the employees of Areva, the huge French engineering company that builds nuclear power plants, mostly in Europe, though they did have something to do with the Fukushima Daiichi Plant that melted down in 2011. In fact, the movie opens that same year—not in Japan, but rather in Hungary, where female workers at an Areva plant are demanding better pay and benefits and their French representative, Maureen Kearney (Isabelle Huppert), is staunchly defending them against their staunchly sexist boss. Kearney is an actual person, and she is able to stand up to these chauvinists because the president of Areva, Anne Lauvergeon (Marina Foïs), is a woman who made it to the top the hard way. Unfortunately, the disaster in Fukushima and other matters conspire to unseat her at the next board election and she is replaced by the less sympathetic Luc Oursel (Yvan Attal), who, it turns out, is in the pocket of a wealthy investor trying to steer Areva’s Chinese connections to a rival company, which would mean a huge loss of jobs for Areva. Kearney gets wind of this via a whistleblower and contacts the government minister in charge of such matters, and then all hell breaks loose.

The thing is, these political intrigues aren’t really the subject of the film, which is just as well since the director, Jean-Paul Salomé, sucks at pacing. It’s difficult to get a handle on the real-life ramifications, be they legal or ethical, of Oursel’s machinations when the facts are rammed up against one another. All we know is that they’ll be bad for the people Kearney represents. The only thing these scenes succeed in doing is present her as a middle-aged, upper middle class woman with a thing for heavy makeup, high heels, and hairstyles better suited for someone 15 years younger who is also fiercely dedicated to doing the right thing, regardless of personal cost. Her pursuit of her boss in the media and the courts results in phone threats and stalking that finally culminate in a home invasion-cum-sexual attack that leaves her wounded and traumatized. And that’s where the movie literally begins (and begins twice more during the film’s two-hour run time). As it turns out, the police don’t really buy the story, and it’s revealed that Kearney has been raped in the past and is under the care of a psychiatrist. They say her testimony about the attack doesn’t add up, and she is eventually labeled a “madwoman” in the press. 

Though the investigation into the attack and the subsequent did-she-or-didn’t-she implications create tensions that draw the viewer into the story, there’s still a lot that gets in the way. Salomé’s already established habit of making it difficult to follow the line of intent sometimes results in mixed signals: Are we supposed to agree with the police and think Kearney made it all up? Though her husband, Gilles (Grégory Gadebois), stands by his wife, it sometimes seems like he doesn’t, which isn’t Gadebois’ fault but rather the way Salomé jerks the story around in an attempt to manipulate the viewer’s expectations, and that’s unfair in a movie which purports to be based on a true story. What Kearney goes through is horrific—she is basically raped three times, once in actuality, and twice psychologically by the justice system. It’s a classic tale of the victim being blamed for her victimization, and while I was totally fascinated with the way it played out, I myself felt played out after it was all over. 

In French and English. Opens Oct. 20 in Tokyo at Bunkamura Le Cinema Shibuya Miyashita (0570-6875-5280).

La syndicaliste home page in Japanese

photo (c) 2022 le Bureau Films-Heimatfilm GmbH + CO KG-France 2 Cinema

Posted in Movies | Tagged | Leave a comment

BIFF 2023: Interview with Khozy Rizal

Posted on October 18, 2023 by philipbrasor
photo (c) BIFF

Khozy Rizal served double duty at the 28th Busan International Film Festival. On the one hand, his short film, Basri & Salma in a Never-ending Comedy, was part of the special program Renaissance of Indonesian Cinema. But he was also one of the fellows at this year’s Chanel X BIFF Asian Film Academy, an exclusive program that brings young Asia Filmmakers to Busan during the festival for several weeks to actually produce a short film. I was introduced to Rizal casually by the press office as a means of explaining the Academy, which they obviously wanted to promote, but the particular circumstances that brought him to Busan were so fascinating that we talked for the better part of 45 minutes. I learned a lot, not only about Indonesian cinema, but about the process of becoming a filmmaker when you essentially have nothing but your wits.

–How did you get into the Academy?

I submitted a questionnaire along with my work, two short films. But I didn’t go to film school. I learned filmmaking by watching lots of movies. 

–Is that the same with the other fellows?

I think most of them went to film school. During the motivational night I told them I’ve made 3 short films so far, but I don’t know the real work of filmmaking from the conventional filmmaking perspective, so I think I need to learn it from actual filmmakers. That’s why I wanted to be in the program.

–Have you always been a film buff?

Yeah, since I was 5 years old. When I was a kid in the early 2000s, the DVD era, I lived right next to a rental shop so if I had any money I would rent a DVD. It became a habit with me. Even when I grew up, when I was in junior high I would always watch films. 

–What kind of movies did you like?

I would say it shifted from time to time. When I was a kid I didn’t speak English at all, and watching films with subtitles was hard, so I always watched Indonesian films, usually horror movies. They used to have sex horror films, and lots of them. [laughs] And then when I was in high school, I became aware of several films that won Oscars, and my English skills improved and I started watching lots of films from America. And it shifted again when I was in college, so I moved out of my small city to study and watched more films and became aware of film festivals like Cannes. I later found out about non-Hollywood films and films from other foreign countries, so I started watching French films and became aware that there were so many great films in the world. 

–It’s always a very eye-opening realization.

I discovered all of these movies, and some of them were really connected to me in terms of issues that we dealt with in my country, and I thought, if I were a filmmaker I could make films that would attract the same kind of attention, but I wanted to direct it the way some directors I admired would direct it. When I graduated from college, I worked in an office from 9 to 5, and at night would go to cinemas. And I thought to myself, it would be great if I could direct a film talking about queer themes, but they would be characters from my home town and speak the same language. That would be really cool, but I didn’t have the chance to make it because I’m not in the film industry and didn’t know anybody in the film industry. Finally, I had the audacity to make something on my own. I made my first film with a smart phone. It was a short film about two young girls who happened to be in love and were attending an Islam boarding school. And I submitted it to a festival in Paris and it won.

–That’s great.

Yeah, I couldn’t believe it. It’s a secret film that I can’t really expose, but it’s called Anisap. And the award came with a money prize, which was really big—20,000 euros. I could make another short with it, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I don’t know anyone in the industry and I don’t know how to make films. So I texted or DMed every producer in Indonesia, and they either refused or didn’t even respond. Then I met with this scriptwriter who had encouraged me to make Anisap. He used to be my mentor. I had joined a master class with him and he encouraged me to make it. He thought I was a good storyteller. So I went back to him and said, “Maybe you’ve forgotten me, but you encouraged me to make a film and I did and it won. Do you know any producer that’s willing to make my film? I have money but no producer.” He introduced me to a producer in Indonesia and we made [my next film] together. It’s called Makassar, the City for Football Fans, and it went to Sundance in 2022. It’s a pretty rough title, 20 minutes long. At Sundance everybody was like, Who is this person? And I made another short film right after.

–Still on a smart phone?

No, but I might do that again in the future. 

Continue reading →
Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment

BIFF 2023: Interview with Nam Dong-chul

Posted on October 17, 2023 by philipbrasor
photo (c) BIFF

As preparation for my coverage of the 28th Busan International Film Festival, which took place Oct. 4-13, I talked via Zoom to the interim festival director, Nam Dong-chul, who is also the chief programmer for the festival. Nam sort of made it clear that he was not gunning for the permanent title of festival director, and that he was simply filling in so that this year’s event could take place on time. In fact, he was surprisingly frank during our conversation, though perhaps not as frank as he was during the online press conference in early September to announce the selections. In response to a reporter’s question of why BIFF had given the Filmmaker of the Year award to Chow Yun-fat, thus making it two years in a row that a Chinese person was the recipient, Nam said, “Well, he was going to receive it eventually.”

–What’s been the biggest challenge so far this year?

After I took over, I found out we have some problems with the budget and I had to cut funding for almost everything in order to keep the budget in check. It was a big decision. So this year, we have 209 official selections, compared to last year’s 243 films.

–In 2019 it was around 300.

Yes. During the pandemic the official number of selections was less than 200, and then it came back to around 240, but this year around 210. Because it’s a bit late in the process it was not easy to convince the programmers that they had to minimize their selections. It was tough. Also, I had to review all the other programs, like forums and conferences.

–Well, the Forum is gone.

Yes. Also I had to check the invitation list and decide what we could provide to our international guests. I was surprised at how expensive air tickets are. Everything became related to the budget.

–Is it due to lack of sponsorship, or lack of government support?

The funding from the city government was smaller compared to last year. Sponsorship from the private sector was also lower than last year. 

–Is that a reflection of the economic situation?

Yes, it’s related to Korea’s general economic situation. This year, especially, prices have been going  up and private companies are having difficulties with their own finances.

–What about your relationship with Busan? Or even the national government?

The relationship with Busan city is quite good now. They want to support us. However, the economic situation in Busan itself is not so good and that has an effect. It’s the same for the central government. The problem is that after this year, meaning next year, the Korean Film Council says its total budget for international film festivals [in Korea} will be cut by 50 percent.

–That affects all film festivals in Korea.

Yes, they are all in the same situation.

Continue reading →
Posted in Media, Movies | Leave a comment

Review: Aalto

Posted on October 16, 2023 by philipbrasor

Though Alvar Aalto is considered not only one of the greatest architects of the 20th century but a central figure of the modernist movement, many people outside of Scandinavia are probably unfamiliar with his name. This probably has less to do with the fact that Aalto was Finnish than with the eventual impact of his work over the years. Though Aalto did see himself as an artist, with the stereotypical free-ranging behavior to prove it, he saw his mission as a designer in humanist terms, an attitude that’s most apparent in the furniture he made. In that regard, it’s important to mention his first wife, Aino, who was also a trained architect (and a trained carpenter to boot, which her husband wasn’t) with a more patient approach to commerce. One thing that this documentary by Virpi Suutari gets very right is the way it presents the title as a kind of brand made up of both Alvar and Aino. If Alvar still gets the lion’s share of the credit for the enduring utility and beauty of the things they created together, it’s mainly because he was good at promoting those things in the world, while Aino mostly stayed at home and ran the day-to-day business. He never denied her her rightful share of the glory.

As a movie, Aalto is endlessly involving but also frustrating in its inability to really convey the Aaltos’ mission of making things that were, first and foremost, human scale. Apparently, “aalto” in Finnish also means “wave,” and what most people notice first of all about the designs, whether applied to buildings or furniture, is their curvilinear aspect. The chairs that the couple made for their company Artek in the 1930s and 40s originated that now common look of one piece of wood steam-bent into a form that fits the body, but the curve is also what makes the famous Baker House at MIT so striking. And while Suutari does take us into the buildings, we rarely get a sense of how they are used since the people inhabiting them on screen seem more decorative than anything else. Still, the sheer volume of work that Alvar accomplished even after Aino died in 1949 and he took on a new wife/work partner, Elissa, several years later is astounding: 300 finished projects and 200 unrealized ones. And while Aalto did do the occasional design for private residences—the homes he made for himself and others in Finland achieve the near impossible feat of looking minimal on the outside while providing maximum space on the inside—his strong suit was public buildings that are marvels of light and form. His one seeming failure was also his most ambitious, the Helsinki City Center, which some felt was so grandiose as to be uninviting, though to me it looks fabulous.

As for Aalto’s personality, Suutari uses the architect’s own words, mainly in the many letters he wrote to Aino while travelling to America and Europe for commissions. Though I’m not sure if the infidelities he so boldly alluded to in these epistles (“you need to commit a whole lot of sin before we’re even”), or the drinking that Aino constantly chides him about best reveal his bohemian temperament, as Suutari seems to imply, they do reveal his own humanity. What interested me more was his approach to work, especially work with others. By all accounts he was a good boss, encouraging his employees to think for themselves even if, in the end, he had the last say. He even had great respect for the tradesmen who carried out his projects and worked closely with them, which was not something that most of his peers did. On the other hand, he was highly impressionable, and would easily lift ideas from others without acknowledgement. Upon meeting the dapper Frank Lloyd Wright, he even started dressing like him. Genius comes in many forms, but Aalto makes the case that ideally it has room for a democratic, inclusive spirit. 

In Finnish, English, German, Italian and French. Now playing in Tokyo at Human Trust Cinema Yurakucho (03-6259-8608), and from Oct. 28 at Tokyo Photographic Art Museum Ebisu (03-3280-0099).

Aalto home page in Japanese

photo (c) FI 2020 – Euphoria Film

Posted in Movies | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Review: R.M.N.

Posted on October 15, 2023 by philipbrasor

In his previous movies, Cristian Mungiu has interrogated Romanian society by focusing on specific aspects. In 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days it was the health care system via a woman seeking an abortion. In Graduation it was official corruption as seen through the education establishment. In his latest work, whose title essentially stands for the name of his country (as well as a medical procedure), he uses a wider lens to take in the meaning of Romania as a relatively new member of the EU and by extension its place in the larger world. He does it literally, by setting the movie in a rural village that itself is half populated by Hungarians who settled there years ago and which many residents have left in order to work abroad for better wages and benefits. We are introduced to our protagonist, Matthias (Marin Grigore), as he angrily quits his job at a slaughterhouse in Germany after being insulted and then hitchhiking his way back to the village. His wife, Ana (Macrina Barladeanu), is not happy to see him, even though their 8-year-old son, Rudi (Mark Edward Blenyesi), has been traumatized by something he saw in the woods on his way to school. Since then he has refused to talk, and Matthias takes it upon himself to try and invest some masculine qualities in the boy, since he thinks Rudi has become too feminized.

Though the mystery of what Rudi saw lingers in the background of this tense, moody drama, it is overshadowed by more immediate concerns. The local bread factory is desperately short of workers, and because they pay so poorly no locals answer their want ads, so they have engaged a broker to bring in labor from abroad (“Asians are better than Africans…”). Eventually, they hire two Sri Lankans, and the factory manager, Csilla (Judith State), finds them lodgings in a small apartment owned by the village’s self-proclaimed polymath. As the movie progresses, Mungiu slowly describes the interrelationships within the village, and the other shoe drops. The factory starts receiving threats against the foreign workers, who are accused of everything from stealing jobs to contaminating the bread they make with “pathogens.” When one of the Sri Lankans shows up at the village church—he is a Catholic, after all, though everybody assumes he’s Muslim—he is summarily walked out. Meanwhile, Matthias resumes his sex-only affair with Csilla (the main reason for Ana’s enmity toward him), who becomes the de facto defender of the foreigners, and not just because it’s her job. 

Throughout this thorny tale, Mungiu drop factoids about the Romanian situation vis-a-vis the EU, which has effectively closed the main employer in the village, an open strip mine, because of its environmental impact and hindered the lumber business by making large tracts of forest sanctuaries. (There is another foreign invader in town: a French biologist who is there to count the bears.) All these elements add to the villagers’ sense of aggrievement, and in a startlingly fluid, action-packed town hall meeting the parochial concerns of the various ethnic interests come to the surface, revealing not just the blatant xenophobia at large (it comes out that they’ve already, proudly, eliminated the “gypsy” population), but a shocking lack of understanding of how the world works. These are not uneducated people. They simply need someone to blame for things they don’t like and can’t do anything about. And while the movie’s ending takes a sudden dramatic turn, it’s not a development designed to provide closure. Though more than two hours long, R.M.N. feels as if it’s just getting around to addressing the problems it brings up when the end credits appear. 

In Romanian, Hungarian, German, English, French, Sinhala. Now playing in Tokyo at Euro Space Shibuya (03-3461-0211).

R.M.N. home page in Japanese

photo (c) Mobra Films-Why Not Productions-FilmGate Films-Film I Vest-France 3 Cinema 2022

Posted in Movies | Tagged | Leave a comment

Review: The Burden of the Past

Posted on October 14, 2023 by philipbrasor

Atsushi Funahashi describes his movie as a “docudrama,” which usually means a blend of documentary and staged scenes. In actuality, everything here is staged, with real actors. The subject is ex-convicts who find it very difficult to reintegrate into Japanese society after they’re released from prison. The recidivism rate in Japan is 50 percent, and the main problem is employment, since many businesses will not hire convicted felons. Moreover, people don’t even want them living in their neighborhoods, thinking that once a criminal always a criminal. Consequently, many ex-convicts’ lives enter into a kind of vicious cycle of offense-incarceration-release-unemployment-reoffense, almost by necessity. We’ve covered this issue in our media reports, and often these people see no alternative but prison, where they at least know they will have a roof over their heads and three meals a day. Outside, they just can’t make it work, and Funahashi’s movie shows us in brutal detail why that is.

The focus is on a publication by an NGO called Change that assists ex-cons in finding employment. The NGO has cultivated a network of businesses that agree to take on recently released felons as employees. The cases covered represent a cross-section. There’s an angry man who spent 10 years in prison for killing a teenage boy in a hit-and-run accident. There’s a young woman sent away for two years due to her addiction to crystal meth. Another woman spent ten years in prison for setting her boyfriend’s house on fire in what sounds like an act of lovelorn desperation. A former elementary school teacher received two years for molesting a student. All of these individuals are placed in jobs that are low-paying: food service, cleaning. At least two of the ex-cons work in a Chinese restaurant for a man who himself did time for extortion and attempted murder. In addition, the NGO conducts sessions with a professional therapist who uses role-playing games and “drama therapy” to help the ex-cons express their feelings about what they are going through now and how they got to this stage in their lives. 

It’s obvious that Funahashi would have had a very hard time making a straight documentary about this topic, because none of the subjects want to talk about their crimes or how their convictions basically destroyed whatever lives they have left. He needs proxies and has developed an acting style that is meant to allow the players to express their feelings honestly without having to resort to the usual dramatic devices. At first, the dour and bitter attitudes we see on screen are a turn-off, and then you realize that society really would prefer these people either stay in prison or just crawl into a hole so as to not burden so-called law-abiding citizens with their presence. We see the former inmates struggle with their attempts to resocialize. In one powerful scene, the ex-addict is hit on by a young guy while she’s cleaning ashtrays in the place she works. Without knowing her past, he tells her he used to smoke pot, as if it might impress her. She mistakes his lecherous candor for kindness and lets down her guard, telling him how she was sent to prison for meth. He laughs, calls her a “piece of trash,” and walks away. The hit-and-run perpetrator exists with a constant chip on his shoulder, believing he’s the victim of bad luck, though he understands deep down his responsibility. His quick temper only reinforces people’s opinion that those convicted of crimes have “criminal natures,” and the notion that people believe this makes him even angrier and more self-pitying. 

The movie culminates in a harrowing discussion following a theater presentation where the ex-cons play analogues of themselves in a fantasy story. The audience is filled with neighbors of the NGO who wish it would move away as well as some victims of the ex-cons. It doesn’t end well, and the various members of the NGO, who truly believe in their cause, are forced to address the fact that they can do nothing without convincing people that those who have “crossed a line” deserve another chance. “Why do you protect criminals?” is what the NGO faces on a daily basis. It doesn’t matter that many of these criminals grew up in broken, abusive homes. It doesn’t matter that Japan’s prison system is designed to punish, not rehabilitate. It doesn’t matter that there is no public system in place to help ex-cons reintegrate. Once you have crossed that line, they won’t let you cross back. 

In Japanese. Now playing in Tokyo at Polepole Higashi Nakano (03-3371-0088).

The Burden of the Past home page in Japanese

Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a comment