LFM: Libertas Film Magazine

By Joe Bendel. Makoto Kido is the sort of teacher who is popular with his students. He is lax about discipline and often late to his own classes. The only drawback is that he often lectures on subjects that will not be on their university entrance exams, like the procedure for making nuclear bombs. Unfortunately, it is a subject he knows cold. When he launches his campaign of nuclear blackmail, it will be up to hardnosed Inspector Yamashita to stop him in Kazuhiko Hasegawa’s classic The Man Who Stole the Sun, which screens as part of the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival’s tribute to Ken Takakura and Bunta Sugawara, two late, great, manly icons of Japanese Cinema.

Kido is kind of a hippy, but he is not very political. Frankly, he will have a hard time coming up with demands for the government to meet. Instead, he is more of your basic bored sociopath. Ironically, when Yamashita first meets Kido, he assumes the science teacher is decent enough for a long-hair, even though we know he has already started laying the groundwork for his evil scheme.

As fate will dictate, Kido’s class is hijacked while on a field trip, by a deranged man seeking redress from the emperor. Yamashita draws the case, impressing Kido with his gruff dedication to duty. After boosting some plutonium from the Tōkai nuclear plant, he proceeds to make two bombs—one to prove his skills with the authorities and one for him to dangle over the prime minister’s head. As part of the ground rules he establishes, Kido (employing a home-made voice modulator) will only speak with the confused Yamashita.

In many ways, Sun is a blast-from-the-past time-capsule of a film. Among other things, it reminds us of the time when most television stations signed off around midnight by playing the national anthem. Evidently, during the late 1970s in Japan, TV stations also used to stop baseball games promptly at ten o’clock to accommodate the evening news. It seems Kido put a stop to that practice. Running out of ideas, Kido reaches out to Zero Sawai, a DJ catering to the youth culture. She is cute as a button, but she also serves as a scathing critique of a myopic media that cannot see the dirty bomb for the trees.

Bunta Sugawara is stone cold awesome as Yamashita, an old school throwback, who would be perfectly at home in the films of Don Siegel and Sam Fuller. Yet, Takayuki Inoue’s massively groovy music might just be even cooler. It is strange that the soundtrack album has not been more eagerly sought after by crate-diggers. Real life rock star Kenji Sawada is also frighteningly convincing as the coldly detached psychopath. Watching him play Kimiko Ikegami’s naïve Sawai is especially chilling.

Co-written by Hasegawa and Leonard Schrader (brother of Paul, who also co-wrote a Tora-san movie), Sun is an ambitious, large scale film, clocking in just shy of two and a half hours. Hasegawa stages some absolutely insane action sequences, yet he dedicates most of the first act to the quiet process of Kido’s bomb-building. Frankly, this is not a film ISIS needs to see, because it is darned instructive. However, if you enjoy potentially apocalyptic thrillers loaded with attitude and funky Me Decade period detail than this is your ticket. Highly recommended for fans of 1970s cinema and crew cut cops, The Man Who Stole the Sun screens this Wednesday (7/1) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

LFM GRADE: A

Posted on June 30th, 2015 at 12:38pm.

By Joe Bendel. Bali is renowned for its Gamelan music and—at least in animal rights circles—notorious for its cockfights. Yuri will watch both sorts of performances on her trip. The former is much more fun, but the latter will resonate more with her, given her husband Chihiro’s terminal illness. Death will never be far from their thoughts in Kiki Sugino’s Taksu, which screens during the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival.

Already the darling of the Pan-Asian indie scene, Taksu was technically Kiki Sugino’s second film as a director, but it hit the international festival circuit just before her first premiered—with a third soon to follow. Fortunately, she also still performs as a screen thesp. After all, she is Kiki Sugino. Shrewdly, she cast herself in a major supporting role in Taksu, but it is former sex symbol Yoko Mitsuya who is asked to do the film’s heaviest lifting and rises to the occasion quite admirably.

The details are sketchy, but the words “failed transplant” says enough. Frankly, Chihiro looks done in when he and Yuri arrive in Bali. This will probably be the last time he sees his extremely pregnant sister Kumi and her Dutch husband Luke. That is a distressing fact, but they obviously have pressing issues of their own to deal with.

It is not exactly clear which stage of grief Chihiro and Yuri are on, but they are not in synch. They are both pretty freaked out, but he frequently lashes out at his naturally reserved wife, accusing her of complacency. In contrast, Yuri is profoundly exhausted and feels guilt about everything. After one of their dust-ups, she walks away, falling in with a group of Japanese expats and their beach gigolo pal, who represents the sort of commitment-free indulgence she has not experienced in some time.

There is no question Taksu will lead to more directing gigs for Sugino. It is a gorgeous looking movie, rich with sunsets and Balinese ceremonial color. It positions her as the logical successor to Cannes-favorite Naomi Kawase. That is either a good thing or a bad thing, depending on how you feel about Kawase’s contemplative films (for the record, Still the Water is considerably better than you may have heard). Sugino also takes an unhurried approach, but she burrows deeply into the psyches of Yuri and Chihiro.

Frankly, she leaves us hanging at the end, expecting a final profundity that never comes. However, for connoisseurs of slow cinema, that is a minor quibble. On the other hand, this is obviously a tough go for crass mainstream movie audiences. Still, it does have Sugino. At the risk of sounding totally fannish, she is wonderfully expressive and aptly radiant as the super-prego Kumi. The sex scenes are all Mitsuya’s, though. They are erotically charged but not exploitative. In fact, they are part-and-parcel of her inner emotional struggle. It is a powerful performance, reminiscent of some of the mature milestones of 1970s cinema that may well shock her fans.

There is indeed a good deal of sex in Taksu, but it often goes together with death. The entire cycle of life is represented in the film, as well as a nice armchair tour of Balinese cultural attractions. Sugino knew exactly what she wanted and executed the film accordingly. Nevertheless, it would not betray her aesthetic sensibilities to give her narratives more muscular definition in the future. Still, it is achingly beautiful visually and the drama is quite sensitively rendered. Recommended for slow cineastes and Sugino fans, Taksu screens this Thursday (7/2) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 30th, 2015 at 12:38pm.

By Joe Bendel. It has been a rough couple of years for cartoonists. Although young Kiyomi Wago does not have a fatwah hanging over her head, her family banned her from drawing horror manga, scapegoating her gory images for all their problems. Yet, they constantly provide fresh inspiration with their ghastly behavior. Frankly, they need another dose of manga humiliation as comeuppance for all their acting-out in Daihachi Yoshida’s Funuke Show Some Love, You Losers, which screens during the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival.

Wago’s parents recently perished in a fatal car crash, involving an adorable kitten. Her spoiled older sister Sumika will not offer much consolation when she finally makes it home. The family had been supporting her dubious acting career, but she only has debts and burned bridges to show for her efforts. She expects to continue dominating their half-brother Shinji, because of the incestuous control she exerts over him, even though he is now married to his naïve internet bride, Machiko. Unfortunately, Sumika still blames Kiyomi for scandalizing the family when she won an amateur contest with the story of her irrational attempt to murder their now late father. Needless to say, Sumika is not ready to forgive and forget.

By the way, Funuke is a comedy, more or less. Yes, you could say it is a somewhat dark one in terms of tone. In fact, Yoshida maintains an almost unclassifiable vibe, like Ozu mixed with Sirk and a dash of John Waters and then launched on a grain alcohol bender.

You may not fully understand the term “hot mess” until you have seen Eriko Sato as Sumika Wago. She is a force, which makes it so rewarding to watch Aimi Satsukawa’s Kiyomi learn to assert her inner Daria. It is subtle, yet substantial arc of character development that she carries off quite well. However, Hiromi Nagasaku might actually be too good as earnest Machiko. She just makes you want to slap everyone around her. As a result, poor Masatoshi Nagase and his character Shinji never stand a chance. They just get buried by the stronger personas surrounding them.

In a way, Funuke is an ode to the cathartic power of artistic expression—specifically through manga in this case. Fortunately, it features a good deal of art by Noroi Michiru that is striking in its own right and absolutely perfect in the dramatic context of the film. At times, Yoshida’s adaptation of Yukiko Motoya’s novel feels excessively mean towards Machiko, but its edge is impressive. Recommended for manga fans who think the last good comedy to play at Sundance was The House of Yes, Funuke Show Some Love, You Losers! screens today (6/29) at the Walter Reade, as part of NYAFF’s mini-focus on Yoshida.

LFM GRADE: B

Posted on June 30th, 2015 at 12:37pm.

By Joe Bendel. Currently, the exchange rate is 120-some Yen to the Dollar. It was something similar in the mid-1990s. Although we know we should be adjusting in our heads, the sums Rika Umezawa embezzles from her private banking clients still look staggeringly high. It is hard to sustain such recklessness indefinitely, but Umezawa will have a heck of a run in Daihachi Yoshida’s Pale Moon, which screens during the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival.

Umezawa looks a far cry from John Dillinger. The former housewife has only recently returned to the workforce, responding to the bank’s recruitment program. She is attractive, but extremely shy and reserved. Her first inherited client, a lecherous old tight-wad, might have been troublesome for her to deal with – if not for the intercession of his college age grandson, Kota Hirabayashi. Still, she manages to sell him on a few starter investments.

In the early days, Umezawa’s performance is quite promising. Yet, her husband continues to patronize and underestimate her. Of course, he just assumes she will accompany him when he is transferred to China, but she rather scandalously opts to stay in Japan. After all, she has secret affair with Hirabayashi to enjoy. She also redirected some of his Scrooge-like grandfather’s money to pay for his tuition. That turns out to be the sort of thing that is hard to stop once you start. Soon, Umezawa is falsifying documents and intercepting bank statements to maintain her lifestyle. Meanwhile, her senior colleague Yoriko Sumi starts investigating her suspicions, hoping to find something that would forestall her forced retirement.

Moon has the obvious feminist angle and the zeitgeisty financial crisis theme, but it is rather more than either sort of issue-driven drama. Thanks to Rie Miyazawa’s absolutely extraordinary lead performance, it is utterly impossible to pigeon hole Umezawa as some sort of Thelma or Louise in a business suit. Although she has good reasons to feel put-out, she is not a victim, but more of an existential heroine. Eventually she will even question the soundness of fiat currency and the legitimacy of Platonic reality. At that point, the third act takes a rather strange turn, but Yoshida lays enough groundwork so that it seems almost logical rather than jarring.

Miyazawa owns this film lock, stock, and barrel, but her greatest competition for the spotlight fittingly comes from Yuna Taira, who appears as the fourteen year old Umezawa in flashbacks. The young screen performer has no shortage of presence, yet still projects a sense of earnest vulnerability she shares with Miyazawa. Admittedly, it is tough being a guy in Moon, but Renji Ishibashi knocks us off-balance from time to time as the curmudgeonly old Kozo Hirabayashi. There is also something compellingly sad about Satomi Kobayashi’s performance as Sumi, a somewhat kindred spirit to Umezawa, who has adopted the diametrically opposite survival strategy.

Special NYAFF Guest Yoshida helms with great sensitivity and a subtly dark sense of humor, which distilled produce a truly distinctive vibe. This is a film that defies labels (is it a crime drama or a work of social criticism?) and up-ends expectations. Moon absolutely does not leave the audience in a “safe place,” but it is strangely satisfying spot to end. Throughout it all, Miyazawa is superhumanly engaging as Umezawa. Highly recommended for sophisticated audiences, Pale Moon screens today (6/29) at the Walter Reade, as part of NYAFF’s mini-focus on Yoshida.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on June 30th, 2015 at 12:37pm.

By Joe Bendel. Hong Kong is a wildly cinematic city, but it is not conducive to rom-coms. Johnnie To keeps trying, but it is his gangster-cop dramas that will be remembered. Still, two American ships passing in the night will take their best shot at talky flirtatiousness in Emily Ting’s It’s Already Tomorrow in Hong Kong, which screens during the 2015 New York Asian Film Festival.

Ruby Lin is a Chinese American toy designer who does not speak a word of Cantonese. Josh Rosenberg is a fluent American expat working in finance. There paths cross on the one night she happens to be in Hong Kong for business. He helps her navigate the city, sparks fly, and then epic fail. One year later, they bump into each other on the Kowloon ferry. She is now temporarily working in HK, but she still does not feel comfortable there. Much to her surprise, Rosenberg has chucked in his high paying corporate gig and has adopted the lifestyle of a literary bohemian. It’s all her fault, by the way.

They start slower on their second go-round, but eventually they generate the same heat again. However, this time they are uncomfortably aware of the other’s respective romantic partners. Maybe it cannot lead anywhere, but the food looks delicious and the scenery is picture postcard perfect.

Yes, it is kind of like the Linklater trilogy. So what? Frankly, even Before Sunrise was not so earth-shatteringly original when it first released. There was a 1945 film called Brief Encounter that covered similar thematic terrain and it was based on a play from the 1930s. David Lean did it better than anyone, but Ting has a huge trump card in the city of Hong Kong. It is easy to imagine a lot of indulgent boyfriends and husbands getting dragged on a It’s Already Tomorrow pilgrimage tour (or maybe vice versa). Seriously, Ting and cinematographer Josh Silfen make the mega-city look ever so seductive (and also quite a bit overwhelming).

As Lin and Rosenberg, co-executive producers Jamie Chung and Bryan Greenberg exhibit real chemistry, as apparently they ought to. Even their idlest chatter is pretty hot, yet it almost always sounds believably grounded. Even though they riff on Seinfeld, Ting’s screenplay mercifully never sounds like it is trying to deliberately coin catch-phrases.

NYAFF’s screening of IATIHK is presented in conjunction with the Hong Kong Economic and Trade Office in New York, who really should be at the theater selling HK tourism packages. They would probably get a lot of takers. In many ways, the film follows a predictable pattern, but its ambiguous romance and the perambulation through the streets of Hong Kong is an entirely pleasant and satisfying way to spend some fleeting time. Recommended for those who enjoy rom-coms and city symphonies, It’s Already Tomorrow in Hong Kong screens this Sunday (6/28) at the Walter Reade, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

LFM GRADE: B+

Posted on July 26th, 2015 at 2:57pm.