Author: reynolds

Takashi Miike’s Imprint

Holy crap. So this was commissioned for Showtime’s Masters of Horror, about which I’ve had some complaints, and then it was too much for them–and it was never aired. Set sometime in late-19th-century Japan, on an island brothel, it structurally resembles a classic ghost story of the period: embedded narratives, as a man on a quest is told ever-worse versions of a story by a deformed prostitute. And many of the elements of the story seem classical, as well: long-lost loves, embattled young child, secret twins. But beyond this familiar structure and resonant plot details, the short film contains truly unsettling, discomforting, uncanny images–bodies, babies, brutality, a very grim fairy tale that seemed unlike most anything I’d ever seen before. The story would emerge in one way that bothered me, then it’d be retold and I’d be surprised and a bit horrified by its revision, and again, and again, until I was startled, often nauseated, utterly engrossed (in every sense of that word).

Great stuff. No one but me may actually enjoy this kind of stuff, but I do recommend it. Shot with Miike’s trademark combination of stomach-churning gore and sound to accompany, intermingled with some absolutely beautiful images (e.g., a poled boat laden with customers just off shore, the red lanterns on land dimly visible in a line just over the men’s heads). Miike is the Fellini of horror–this is a very bad dream, and very good horror.

Longford

A quick recommendation for an HBO film that some may have already seen: the titular character (played by the amazing Jim Broadbent) is a somewhat fuddled real-life Lord who took up lost causes, and gets involved with the case for forgiveness and perhaps parole for the female half of a notorious child-murdering duo. Myra Hindley (the equally amazing Samantha Morton) may be truly seeking redemption, may be manipulating the old man — and the film grabs us with that tension. But what resonates even more extensively is the grip of the moral question behind the ‘truth’ of her redemption: does everyone deserve redemption, regardless of their motives? Continue reading Longford

Joe Dante

I’m a fan. I’m not sure any of Dante’s movies completely, totally crystallize — they’re almost all burdened with strange mismatches of tone and the constraints of either too small a budget or too much studio interference . . . and yet I think his films are glorious, the kinds of things that managed to tiptoe along the line between the sincerely low-budget exploitational and the smartly self-referentially genre-invigorating. The Howling veers from its first twenty minutes’ feel of tawdry sex-drenched horror, turning a serial killer flick into a werewolf movie, but then it heads into the woods and becomes homage, parody, recreation of classic horror films in a cheesy 1970s world, complete with John Carradine, Slim Pickens, a terrifying transformation scene, and stray jokes about Thomas Wolfe. (John Sayles, who wrote this script and Dante’s prior estimable Jaws rip-off Piranha, plays a morgue attendant.) Continue reading Joe Dante

Vengeance is Mine

Shohei Imamura’s film is technically a true-crime story, documenting the capture (and flashbacking through the crimes) of a sociopathic lowlife in the mid-sixties. Enokizu (Ken Ogata) is something of a smiling cipher, who seems one thing in early scenes, a stonefaced whackjob, then emerges from scene to scene in ever complicating fashion–coming across as something of a naif, then a dumb thug, then a slick con man, and so on–and by the end of the film I hadn’t some simple narrative of his motivations but a rich, unsettling, and ambiguous portrait which never quite explains or resolves his actions.

Worse–or, aesthetically, better–the film’s portrait of the contemporary Japanese social milieu is equally unsettling. Enokizu’s violence and rage is echoed everywhere Continue reading Vengeance is Mine

Levees

Has no one else seen this? I heard how good Spike Lee’s documentary on Katrina was, and so quickly bought it when released on dvd, then as quickly shelved it, as it was hard to drum up excitement about a film that was almost certainly good for me but would be painful to watch. Foolish. This is a great, great film–easily the best documentary I’ve seen since (and probably better yet than) the excellent Mondovino. It is heartwrenching but often startlingly funny; its powerful sociopolitical thrust complemented by a remarkable sense of rhythm, image, sound, editing. It’s just amazing filmmaking, and I’m enjoying the hell out of it, even as it is in equal parts enraging and enlightening.

I’ll write more later–but I wanted to see if others simply hadn’t posted . . . .

I think you could make the case that Spike Lee is our most important filmmaker–in every sense of “important.” I cannot believe a work this damn good came out so quickly after the event.

Fantasy Mogul

So, someone came up with a movie-studio version of those fantasy-sports games: pick your summer movie slate, compete on profits, etc. I started a league which can be found here, called “Watchers.” The password to join is “arnabpoop”.

Oh: I sent an email to almost everyone, except Sunhee and Michael, for neither of whom I have an email address. But–join! Others? (Lurkers? All welcome.)

Old and another small Joy

First, to get it out of the way: many of us will try Deja Vu no matter what any of the rest of us say about the film. And why not? It’s got Denzel Washington, and a gloriously loony plot. Well–glorious for about 20 minutes, and then the film’s a flat bore. Not bad. Worse: boring.

But what I’m here to tell you is about two other films. Continue reading Old and another small Joy