The Road

(John Hillcoat, USA/Australia 2009)

The director of “The Proposition” teams up with Nick Cave again in an adaptation of a Cormak McCarthy novel that does exactly what it says on the tin, ie the man and the boy wander along the road trying to find something, what that something is, they don’t know, see it’s a post apocalyptic world with maraudering gangs of cannibals, rapists, murderers etc and the man and the boy simply press on towards the coast just to maintain a glimmer of hope. This isn’t some Mad Maxesque sci-fi romp, it’s a more considered and probably realistic account of how society may function in that kind of situation. Note that the cause for this mass destruction is never revealed, maybe it isn’t even known by the survivors. The ever present ash and nuclear winter suggest it was the result of nuclear holocaust but thankfully it’s not one of those kill President Raygun movies it is just a tale of a father and son doing what they have to do to survive, wandering the plains with a shopping cart, a bit like lonewolf and cub (aka Shogun Assassin) minus the swordplay.

Those that have read the book would find that it’s a very faithful adaptation even down to the coca cola product placement, still can’t beat the feeling, even after the end of the world, some report that it lacks the impact of the novel as it contains little action and its haunting power lies in the sense of despair that McCarthy’s pen created, my personal view is that it did what movie adaptations are supposed to do, focused on the events and cut out the boring bits.

Aside from all that, The Road wins the second place prize in the prestigious Richie Sodapop crappest waterfall effects in a film, narrowly pipped at the post by low brow, 80s, martial arts tour de force “No Retreat, No Surrender 2″ which really has to be seen to be believed.

I also feel the need to mention that Guy Pearce is in it but only for about a minute, Pearce is an excellent actor that really should be more famous than he is, get a new agent Guy, you’re awesome. Although I fear that whatever future roles Guy Pearce takes  will forever be overshadowed by his performance as Mike in Neighbours particularly the bit when he was teaching Des some Japanese phrases so as to impress business man Mr Udigawa, but hapless Des got it wrong and told Mr Udigawa that Japanese women were dirty when he meant to say beautiful and Udigawa went nuts and canceled the deal, Waaah waaah.

Chung King Express

(1994, Wong Kar Wai, Hong Kong)

Chung Hing sam lam

Two different stories about the complexities of love in 90s Hong Kong but dealing with themes that are universal and timeless.

As somebody accused of often having my head in the clouds, California Dreamin’ by the mamas and the papas is a song that particularly resonates with me with its promise of a land that can make everything seem ok.  Similar to the character of Faye from this movie, I would often play it whilst working to take my mind off the frustrations of a menial day job. At this point in time I had not seen or even heard of Chunk King Express but a Chinese co-worker suggested I see it due to the similarities of our characters. I tracked it down and reignited a passion for Hong Kong cinema that I thought had died in my teenage years after I grew out of those Shaw Brothers martial arts films. It introduced me to a very stylish school of film making, populated by elusive but intriguing characters and a backdrop that begs you to visit this part of the world and be consumed by its exotic charm.

There are two different stories of Chung King Express, not intertwining, just one after the after although both involve police officers whose paths briefly cross, they centre around failed relationships and the very different women that they fall for.

First up we have the hopeless romantic, officer 223, a man that runs every day until he sweats out as much liquid as his body can spare just to minimise his chances of crying. He is trying to deal with the fact that he was dumped by his girlfriend. Despite the fact that he is a clear thinking, level headed, officer of the law, when it comes to matters of the heart, 223 subjects himself to bizarre rituals such as this as well as his daily consumption of a tin of pineapples that expire on the date that he was dumped, believing that this will lead to him either reconciling with his former partner or that their love will expire like the pineapples. The pineapple theme seems to be recurring metaphor in Wong Kar Wai’s work as in hiss 1995 film Fallen Angels, the same actor plays He Ziwu, a mute that lost his voice after eating a tin of out of date pineapples.

In his quest for romance, 223 drunkenly makes moves on a mysterious woman in a blonde wig (Bridgette Lin). After some not too smooth lines he ends up in her hotel room where the only action the sheets see are here wasted frame passing out in a drunken stupor while he lies awake beside her watching movies.

The next day on his routine jog, a surprise message from the mystery woman wishing him a happy birthday appears to be his first step on the road to moving on. If only he knew this thoughtful blonde was a violent, vengeful, drug trafficker.

Story number two sees Tony Leung as 663. He is also trying to handle life after a relationship breakdown and although he appears to deal with it better than 223, he is still far from happy.

This depression is noted by Faye, an aloof fantasist played by pop star Faye Wong, she works at a snack bar and plays California Dreamin’ over and over add nauseum. Faye quietly falls for 663 from afar and concocts ludicrous ways to be a part of his life by breaking in to his apartment and adding her own little touches to his home that she thinks will make him happy.

With time, 663 develops feelings for Faye but his hopes are dashed when she decides last minute to stand him up so she can finally give her dreams a shot and boards a plane for California.

Her departure however, does not necessarily spell the end for these two as she returns a year later to find that he has bought the snack bar, as the movie ends, it is left to our own imaginations as to what the future may have in store for them.

Chung King Express is quite a touching film but not overly sentimental, it juxtaposes different emotional states such as the madness of love and loss with the human condition to just get on with things and persevere. On top of this it is a very stylish film but not at the expense of its ability to affect the audience. It has been described as a love letter to Hong Kong but manages to have a distinctly European feel at times, these all add up to becoming a charming movie that you’ll want to return to again and again as you develop a genuine interest and affection for the lead characters.

A Tale of Two Sisters

(2003, Ji-Woon Kim, South Korea)

Present day, South Korea, a young girl is returning home from a stay in a mental hospital but strange things happen when she and her sister are reunited in their old home with their cruel stepmother and distant father.

Recently remade as ‘the uninvited’, A Tale of Two Sisters is Asian cinema at its shocking and atmospheric best. Pigeon holing this movie as Asian horror is by no means a disservice as this genre has come to be the standard by which all modern horror is judged.

Janghwa, Hongyeon, to give it it’s Korean title, (roughly translated as rose, lotus) does exactly what every horror/ suspense/ mystery thriller should do but sadly is often not the case, it keeps the audience gripped by guessing what  is going on whilst the mystery gradually unravels to its emotional conclusion, it scares the audience without resorting to shock tactics via special effects or gore, favouring the power of the imagination to really send a shiver down the viewers spine and its most effective trait of remaining in your brain long after initial viewing as you piece together the clues that made up this puzzle and explain away all the little details.

The film begins with Su-Mi, a teenage girl being quizzed by a doctor in a mental hospital about her family and what she can remember about before being admitted. It is clear that something shocking happened to her that involved her family and gave her severe trauma but rather than flashback to whatever  led to Su-Mi being admitted to this hospital we see how she deals with the aftermath.

It is obvious from the outset that Su-Mi and her younger sister Su-Yeon do not like their new stepmother as they try to avoid any contact with her, preferring the solitude of the pier that overlooks a lake on their secluded estate. As the film develops we are left wondering whether this distaste is due to the stepmother’s wicked intentions or Su-Mi’s jealousy and manipulative ways. Added to the mix however is the fact that the house is seemingly haunted by a troubled spirit.

What initially feels like a battle of cunning and will between two strong minded young women develops in to a classic haunted house horror as initial tensions are manifested into a tangible presence that can be seen by outsiders, firstly Su-Mi is visited and tormented by a bleeding spirit that tears off her covers while she sleeps. This could be put down to her fragile mind state seeing as she has just been released from hospital or even just a dream, after all, she is in bed but things become more sinister when they are visited by Uncle and his wife. After a very uncomfortable dinner, the wife seems to have some kind of seizure leading to her collapsing on her floor where she appears to see the ghost of a young girl under the sink. Is the house haunted or are tensions between the female leads causing people to imagine things.

Su-Mi’s anxieties are flared by the fact that her father seems cold and emotionless; maybe he is torn between being a father to his disturbed children and being a husband to his wife that is seemingly bullied by his daughters. When Su-Mi quizzes him as to why these bad things are happening to her and her sister, he tells her that Su-Yeon is dead and that she should learn to deal with it. Only Su-Yeon can’t be dead as we now see her in a fight with her step mother, who must be cruel and evil as it appears that she has bundled Su-Yeon into a sack and is beating her with a stick, Su-Mi comes to rescue her sister and in the events that follow all is revealed, the reason for Su-Mi’s protectiveness over Su-Yeon, the odd behaviour of the uncle, the ghostly presences, the significance of the wardrobe, the hatred for the stepmother, the father’s lack of action, the father’s rejection of his wife’s advances, the synced menstrual cycles, but I can’t tell you the answer, you’ll just have to watch it.

A Tale of Two Sisters is a superbly written story excellently acted giving it a very real atmosphere. It is this realism that makes it work so well as a horror, no cheap gore porn, no gross out humour just strong characters and clever story telling. A bonus feature on the DVD also reveals Su-Yeon’s story as told from her secret diary, this an amazing feature that makes the whole thing feel satisfactorily wrapped up. Any fan of Asian or horror films needs to see A Tale of Two Sisters.

RIP Electric Sheep Magazine

The electro-age that we now live in  has claimed yet another great print magazine.

Electric Sheep has printed it’s final physical issue but now exists as a cyberweb zine, check the link on my blogroll in the right hand column.

Treeless Mountain

(2009, So Yong Kim, South Korea/USA)

Treeless Mountain is loosely based on the childhood experience of Brooklyn native So Yong Kim whose own mother upped sticks for New York, leaving the young, would be director back in Korea, so that she could raise money and provide her daughter with a future. Not understanding the sacrifice that her mother was making for her, the young Kim was left emotionally distraught yet learned to persevere until she too was brought over to the US.

Treeless Mountain is the story of six year old Jin, a model student who has to take care of her younger sister Bin while their mother leaves them with their alcoholic ‘Big Aunt’ so as she can try to make amends with their estranged father.

I don’t wish to spoil the plot but a main theme is the filling of a Piggy bank, which the two girls aim to fill with ingenious yet childishly naive ideas, believing that their mother will return as soon as it is full.

Once their innocent ideal is crushed the piggy serves as a right of passage, in a scene that will rip your heart in two, as the two girls learn that all they need is each other and they can get through any hardship.

Don’t be put off by the fact that film is about children and it’s main characters are children, I usually hate kids but Treeless Mountain is a genuinely life affirming piece of independent cinema, the story is heartfelt and the cast are exceptional, especially when you consider that the actresses that play Jin and Bin had no acting experience and are not real sisters, Jin was discovered in a Seoul primary school while Bin was found in an orphanage, but their on screen chemistry reflects a genuine affection and a sense of protectiveness from the older girl that developed during the films production.

This probably won’t be a huge hit, it is too art-house for the typical Korean movie market and I fear that the art-house crowd may be put off by the fact that it is about children, though this would be a mistake as it deals with universal human themes of resilience. I hope that word of mouth on this film makes it huge as this is a film that everybody could benefit from watching.

Unmade Beds

(Alexis Dos Santos, 2009, UK)

Finally, a British film that isn’t about cheeky chappy, middle class hooligans, melodramatic hood rats or foppish dandys. Some may question is Britishness due to its Argentinian director and International cast but Unmade Beds is a surprisingly likeable portrait of young wanderers in contemporary East London.

Admittedly it’s not especially an entirely true reflection of life in London and at times seems slightly pretentious, but is has to be said that there are some genuinely nice touches in there and its slightly ramshackle feel somehow adds to its charm.

Already, I have noticed some gaylords in the press have picked holes in it for its lack of junkies, black people and crime and I feel that this attitude is what is holding back British cinema, had this been an American indie, set in any large, multicultural city, these issues would not have been a concern, it would simply be taken for a fictionalised, condensed account of a film makers younger years, with a bit of extra storyline thrown in, which is exactly what it is, but because it is set in East London it is felt that certain, token boxes need to be ticked for it to be deemed worthy. It’s only a movie, get over it.

The main characters are Axl and Vera who live in the same squat and have their own story but don’t cross paths until the end where everything seems to just about make sense for them. The main problem is that Axl is slightly annoying and hard to care about although, like Jar Jar Binks, much of the film’s impact depends on his ability to win audiences over, sadly, for the most part, he fails. Vera on the other hand is much more intriguing and amazingly played by Deborah Francois, a certain star in the making.

Essentially it’s a film about young people, for young people. If you’re in your late teens or early twenties you will probably love this film, you may feel that it reflects your own life, or wish that it did. But if you’re older, lived in London for a while and no longer see yourself in these characters you may feel slightly bitter about it and condemn this film as pretentious guff, this probably says more about the viewer than the strength of the film.

Nowhere Boy

Sam Taylor Wood, UK, 2009

Being that this is the film that was chosen to close this year’s London Film Festival, it has to be said that it’s pretty forgettable.

Maybe that’s that the point, I don’t know, I’m not the artist here. Perhaps Taylor Woods intention was to capture the monotony and claustrophobic feeling of growing up in 1950’s Liverpool where dreams of escaping and a passion for American rock n’ roll culture were the order of the day.

Out of John Lennon’s remarkable life, tales of his child and teenhood often go overlooked, maybe because it is not especially different to that of any other angsty, young man growing up in an industrial British town and that’s why nowhere boy can tend to feel slightly flat, it’s just not that interesting a story. There are no problems with the direction, the clothes, dialogue and music are dead on and most of the performances are pretty solid, although I couldn’t help but notice that there were frequent accent transplants but I concede that a Liverpool accent is very distinctive and difficult to nail if you are not a native.

Another aspect of the film that griped me is in fact one of its strengths, in that Lennon comes across as an arrogant bully who thinks he is funnier than he actually is. This is where I have to give kudos to Aaron Johnson for pulling this off whilst maintaining his charisma and still managing to make the audience care for him as a troubled, abandoned child with a determination to live his dreams.

I also hated the creepy sexual tension between Lennon and his mum but I can just about forgive this for the part where one of my personal dreams came true, seeing Paul McCartney smacked in the gob.

If you are a fan of Lennon, the Beatles, 50s music or British cinema then this could be the film for you, if not, see it anyway, it’s pretty watchable, just don’t expect it to change your life.

Thirst

(Park Chan Wook, S.Korea, 2009)

Thirst aka Bakjwi is yet another of those Korean films that goes on for about 3 hours and seems to change direction several times during the whole course.

Most of the synopsis’ that I read before going to see it state that it’s about a priest that has a blood transfusion to amend his guilt about not being a very efficient saviour, said transfusion leads to a him developing vampiric tendencies, namely a thirst for blood and a ridiculous sexual appetite that develops in to a raunchy affair with his friends down-trodden wife. So far so good. This part of the movie is very entertaining, frequently funny, genuinely sexy and significantly more light hearted than anticipated.

Then comes act two, we saw the female lead, Tae-Joo switch from doormat to lustful object of unbridled passion, but now she suddenly switches to manipulative psycho. After leading the naive vampire priest up the garden path, she has now gained his powers. This is the point where Thirst takes a vast left turn and falls in to Korean movie syndrome where it suddenly becomes a completely different movie. According to the director, this move was deliberate. He originally intended to dramatise a French novel, the name of which escapes me now, about a murderers guilty paranoia under the scrutiny of an ever watchful eye. Now I understand this, it made me appreciate the film a little more but at the time it seemed baffling and frankly pointless. Then it becomes a battle of morals over need, a la Interview with the Vampire, a string of rubbishy special effects and an ending almost identical to 30 days of night but with the confusing character transplant where Tae-Joo repeatedly tries to save redemptive ‘priestpire’ Kang-so Hong.

Despite the hype, Thirst is not the most impressive film at this year’s London Korean Film Festival, see forthcoming posts on Treeless Mountain and Private Eye for more on this, however Thirst wins extra points for being a generally unique viewing experience.

Broken Embraces

Pedro Almodovar, Spain, 2009

Told in flashbacks and set between Madrid and Lanzarote, Broken Embraces tells the tale of Mateo Blanco, a succesful writer and director that falls in love with his starlet, leading to a bitter rivalry with her benefactor ultimately leading to the young stars death and Blanco losing his sight.

Despite the melodramatic plot, it is actually highly enjoyable and easy to watch. The melancholy and romantic feeling, perfectly balanced with humour and charm.

Broken Embraces is also a very stylish film, which could be considered a negative, depending on your outlook, some may see it as trying too hard to look arty, it is heavy on the metaphors but in all honesty is not too style conscious to be pretentious. I see it simply as Almodovar adding tastes of his own personality to his film, which is what auteur film making is all about.

There was however one part of the movie that made me feel quite uncomfortable. After sitting in the cinema chair for around and hour, I needed to tend to my routine bollock scratch, unfortunately this arrived at exactly the same moment that you see Penelope Cruz’s boobs so I had to keep my hands above waist level for around ten minutes so the good folk around me didn’t think I was having a sly stroke. Other than that minor gripe, it’s a pretty decent movie, still, you’d think those foreigners would learn to speak English.

Mesrine, Public Enemy Number 1

(Jean Francois-Richet, France, 2008)

I actually saw this film a couple of weeks ago but it’s taken me this long to write about it simply because it is severely underwhelming.

Part one was a so so kind of film, I was hoping that part 2 would fill in the blanks and redeem the series as a whole but instead, part two actually makes it seem worse. There is nothing wrong with any of the performances, I remain a fan of Vincent Cassel and especially Ludivine Sagnier but the problem with this film is that it seems to suffer an identity crisis. It doesn’t even follow the gritty, yet action over story line, formula of the first part. It is part crime thriller, part trendy biopic, part comedy caper, resulting in a series of ludicrous disguises and ends up looking like a poor Peter Sellers movie written by Guy Ritchie.

What really made me balk are the soundtrack choices, the pointless London Calling interlude springs to mind but the scene featuring Rappers Delight is possibly the most unfitting coupling of film and music since the bit in Baywatch when Mitch apparently dies in a parachuting accident whilst Mike and the Mechanics’ Looking Back plays out.

On a lighter note,Cassel is thoroughly entertaining in his portrayal of Mesrine as a charismatic yet wholly unlikeable character, which I suspect is quite near the truth, so much so that when he meets his bloody death at the hands of disgruntled police officers, you actually feel quite glad.

Also, as I mentioned in my review of Mesrine: Killer Instinct, despite being a supposedly true story, a strong feeling of artistic license hangs over the production, well at the beginning of part 2, a disclaimer practically admits that this is the case, adding my feeling of deflation ten-fold, however it did go some way to explaining why I’d grown a massive beard by the end of the screening.