Cinema is no stranger to stories about heart wrangling ‘journeys to the end of the night’ a classic example is Fellini’s Satyricon. And in this instance to a lesser extent cinema also has classics related to photograph and the hyper-reality of the simulacrum, such as Blow-Up. If we add into this thematic mix perversion, eroticism, religion, adolescence, cults and the search for a true love then we end up with Shion Sono’s Love Exposure.
Love Exposure’s narrative centres around Yu Honda and a few other associated characters and the tangled web and course that their lives take. Adolescence and that drawn out period of discontent can be a testing time in anyone’s life and for Yu Honda especially so. He is a devout Catholic boy committed to his late mothers parting words and add to this his father is newly ordained priest. Thing start off alright in their new life in the church but the appearance one day of a lost soul of a woman in need of a good Shepard turns things upside down and inside out. Yu’s father embarks on an illicit liaison with the woman, who, soon enough elopes with a younger man leaving Yu’s father broken and emotionally distant from the narrating Yu. And he earnestly yearns for love and an erection.
It is from this point that this 4 hour film starts to kick up a dust storm of desperate emotions. Yu is forced by his father to confess his sins each day. But Yu being the devout boy he is has no sins which to confess. Which poses an existential problem for Yu: how to act when the devout and good life only serves to hinder love? So when push comes to hug Yu forces himself to sin so as to illicit some emotion from his withdrawn father and so begins Yu’s spiralling odyssey through perversion with the manifold aims of attracting his father’s attention and finding his Maria (read true love).
Sion directs with a light touch and a compassion for all his character and their respective back stories and just may have made the longest opening sequence of any film one is likely to see, clocking in at around an hour long. Nothing comes easy for the characters and Yu must learn the hard way and just when it would appear he has reached his destination along comes another obstacle that must be confronted and overcome. But fortunately for us the laughs come easy as this film makes its way with some superbly executed comic scenes. Early on as Yu learns the art of surreptitious panty photography and what it philosophically aspires to there is shot after shot that references other films – this montage becomes something of a Kata of cartoon comedy. It is a mark of a strong story, good direction and dedicated acting that a film of this length can be entertaining for its duration.
Love Exposure goes through many twists and turns and new obstacles are presented before each of the central characters, these all are thrown into the mix of the central narrative that revolves around the search for love and the journey that a good heart must undertake that traverses less than good places. And at four hours this film is very much a journey in itself, but one that reaps a reward of good entertainment.
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Thursday, 12 November 2009
'More than a feeling'
It may well be the case that now that the main front of the ‘war on terror’ has shifted back to Afghanistan and the spill over AfPak theatre of operation and also a change of White House administration has occurred, a somewhat objective varied look back at the Iraq situation can be taken. Of late we have been offered the intense and exceptional ‘The Hurt Locker’ and now we have the farcical ‘The Men Who Stare at Goats’. This latest review of the Iraq situation is a goofy slapstick comical farce with enough suggestive gestures to drive a heard of goats with: nearly always the humour is deployed at the absurdness of the situation.
The film is based on the journalistic work of the same name written by Jon Ronson and it follows the journey of the journalist Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) as he tries to find a story in Iraq. After a chance meeting with Lyn Cassady (George Clooney) a story starts to materialise out of the cosmos of chance that is tinged with flowers, peace and jealousy.
Through a series of well timed and charming flashbacks the story of the New Earth Army is told and its quest for mental war that doesn’t resemble any form of war that we have previously known. The guru at the centre of these flashbacks is Bill Django (Jeff Bridges) whose lovey-dovey eyes and words are the platform that inspires a small wave of young officers to embrace counter-culture ways of life that were sweeping the U.S post Vietnam. These flashbacks capture the clichéd zeitgeist of that time with its good will and optimism but bring in a new twist of a military training and industrial complex setting: which makes for a good mash-up. These flashback scenes are the films most captivating and swirl with tweaked nostalgia.
But back to the present, where we are lead through a war ravaged Iraq, with side long glances cast at the politics of hostage taking, mercenaries, methods of information retrieval and the dark turn that The New Earth army has taken. An obscure momentum drives these scenes that give the impression that we are on a road to ruin. In the films final throws an insurrection of old ideals is grasped but is ultimately lack lustre and this film in the end seems to putter out like a car that’s air filter has consume too much sand. And the film seems stranded in the desert, much like the allied efforts in Iraq, with no real exit strategy.
What the film leaves us with apart from a disappointing ending is the message that resilience in the midst of any system that has evil elements is a must if one is to realise their ideals and hopes. It’s just a shame that the coup-de-grace of this message didn’t have the incision of its opening forays.
The film is based on the journalistic work of the same name written by Jon Ronson and it follows the journey of the journalist Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) as he tries to find a story in Iraq. After a chance meeting with Lyn Cassady (George Clooney) a story starts to materialise out of the cosmos of chance that is tinged with flowers, peace and jealousy.
Through a series of well timed and charming flashbacks the story of the New Earth Army is told and its quest for mental war that doesn’t resemble any form of war that we have previously known. The guru at the centre of these flashbacks is Bill Django (Jeff Bridges) whose lovey-dovey eyes and words are the platform that inspires a small wave of young officers to embrace counter-culture ways of life that were sweeping the U.S post Vietnam. These flashbacks capture the clichéd zeitgeist of that time with its good will and optimism but bring in a new twist of a military training and industrial complex setting: which makes for a good mash-up. These flashback scenes are the films most captivating and swirl with tweaked nostalgia.
But back to the present, where we are lead through a war ravaged Iraq, with side long glances cast at the politics of hostage taking, mercenaries, methods of information retrieval and the dark turn that The New Earth army has taken. An obscure momentum drives these scenes that give the impression that we are on a road to ruin. In the films final throws an insurrection of old ideals is grasped but is ultimately lack lustre and this film in the end seems to putter out like a car that’s air filter has consume too much sand. And the film seems stranded in the desert, much like the allied efforts in Iraq, with no real exit strategy.
What the film leaves us with apart from a disappointing ending is the message that resilience in the midst of any system that has evil elements is a must if one is to realise their ideals and hopes. It’s just a shame that the coup-de-grace of this message didn’t have the incision of its opening forays.
Saturday, 7 November 2009
Dr. Parnasuss and the slippery slope
This is a confusing and senile film that is littered with ideas but none of which seem to get investigate and explored to a satisfying conclusion. Ideas are just thrown out as if discarded, left for the viewer to wonder what could have been – if only – and then the film continues to clumps along aimlessly. In short this is a film that is not fully realised, it hints at many things, it seems to have a wide scope – good versus evil, creativity, death and volition – but unfortunately the story doesn’t come together to form any cohesive unity and story. It would appear that Gilliam’s flight of imagination has with this film, failed to touch back down to earth. A strong editing hand is what seems to be missing. And this makes for disappointing experience
Was it a good choice for this film to be concluded and released after the untimely death of rising star Heath Ledger, was there a story there that was worthy as something of an epitaph – as this film will invariably be used – to his legacy and potential, should this film have move time spent on post-production? These sorts of questions were always going to be levelled at this film and it is noble of Gilliam to push on through with the film’s production despite the major loss of Ledger. But an epitaph does not make a film and the parts of this film don’t add up to a worthy memorial.
Yes, themes of mortality, imagination, a bleak inevitability and pure love inhabit this film as they do in many Gilliam films but here they are strands that are not tied together and are confusingly deployed thorough out the film to no end. Are we supposed to take sympathy on Dr. Parnassus and his idiotic determination to carve out a life as a poet-storyteller? Or should we take sympathy on ourselves that we fail to appreciate the gifts that Dr. Parnassus has to offer and the general decline in our civilisations ability to appreciate storytelling and the art of imagining? And just where is Gilliam laying the blame for his despondency: a particular demographic, a political-economic cabal, the choices that consenting individuals make or somebody-or-other? It’s a nigh on impenetrable veil that Gilliam casts.
The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus starts off promisingly with a strong opening gambit of the general decline of modern western civilisation that is wallowing in drunken stupor and clipped wings of creativity. And as we see Dr. Parnassus sit lonely on his mountain outcrop we can feel his despair at what he sees, but then as the film begins to unfolds we see that Dr. Parnassus, despite his lofty prelapsarian ideals, is himself a fallen man who has recklessly gambled the lives of those dear to him and has dug his own hole.
And a hole is what Gilliam digs for himself he is never able to get a cohesive story together and get out beyond a promising beginning. As a result this film lack focus; too many ideas and not enough segues. The production design is filled with fascination and trinkets of wonder. Alone they are well crafted elements but they can’t distract from the general lack of focus and continuity this film exhibits. One must wonder about what muse was leading Gilliam’s choices in the realisation of this film.
And so finally, what of the choices that one has to make in their life? This idea is signposted at the conclusion of the film but it’s a little late for any investigation; and it’s an idea that lingers with a morbid tint. Perhaps what Gilliam is alluding to is that through the act of making a choice, sticking to it and acting upon it, one can attain a moral high ground of productivity and worthiness. Throughout the film Dr. Parnassus has given over to many a temptation presented to him – be it by a dapper and cigarette chomping devil or the reading of a fortune card – he has seemed to lack any volition of his own, so to see him make a choice at the conclusion of the film and then improve his life in the process of resolutely sticking to the choice concludes the film on a positive note.
And this review so far has said nothing of the role that the late Ledger plays, which seem to be something of a Mephisto type role. But it’s unclear just what this film, characters and director desire to tell, too much seems to fall by the wayside in this bloated meta-narrative. As it is, this film along with life and death remain clear like the water of the Thames. But a lingering thought remains, does this film need repeated viewing for its fruits to ripen
Was it a good choice for this film to be concluded and released after the untimely death of rising star Heath Ledger, was there a story there that was worthy as something of an epitaph – as this film will invariably be used – to his legacy and potential, should this film have move time spent on post-production? These sorts of questions were always going to be levelled at this film and it is noble of Gilliam to push on through with the film’s production despite the major loss of Ledger. But an epitaph does not make a film and the parts of this film don’t add up to a worthy memorial.
Yes, themes of mortality, imagination, a bleak inevitability and pure love inhabit this film as they do in many Gilliam films but here they are strands that are not tied together and are confusingly deployed thorough out the film to no end. Are we supposed to take sympathy on Dr. Parnassus and his idiotic determination to carve out a life as a poet-storyteller? Or should we take sympathy on ourselves that we fail to appreciate the gifts that Dr. Parnassus has to offer and the general decline in our civilisations ability to appreciate storytelling and the art of imagining? And just where is Gilliam laying the blame for his despondency: a particular demographic, a political-economic cabal, the choices that consenting individuals make or somebody-or-other? It’s a nigh on impenetrable veil that Gilliam casts.
The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus starts off promisingly with a strong opening gambit of the general decline of modern western civilisation that is wallowing in drunken stupor and clipped wings of creativity. And as we see Dr. Parnassus sit lonely on his mountain outcrop we can feel his despair at what he sees, but then as the film begins to unfolds we see that Dr. Parnassus, despite his lofty prelapsarian ideals, is himself a fallen man who has recklessly gambled the lives of those dear to him and has dug his own hole.
And a hole is what Gilliam digs for himself he is never able to get a cohesive story together and get out beyond a promising beginning. As a result this film lack focus; too many ideas and not enough segues. The production design is filled with fascination and trinkets of wonder. Alone they are well crafted elements but they can’t distract from the general lack of focus and continuity this film exhibits. One must wonder about what muse was leading Gilliam’s choices in the realisation of this film.
And so finally, what of the choices that one has to make in their life? This idea is signposted at the conclusion of the film but it’s a little late for any investigation; and it’s an idea that lingers with a morbid tint. Perhaps what Gilliam is alluding to is that through the act of making a choice, sticking to it and acting upon it, one can attain a moral high ground of productivity and worthiness. Throughout the film Dr. Parnassus has given over to many a temptation presented to him – be it by a dapper and cigarette chomping devil or the reading of a fortune card – he has seemed to lack any volition of his own, so to see him make a choice at the conclusion of the film and then improve his life in the process of resolutely sticking to the choice concludes the film on a positive note.
And this review so far has said nothing of the role that the late Ledger plays, which seem to be something of a Mephisto type role. But it’s unclear just what this film, characters and director desire to tell, too much seems to fall by the wayside in this bloated meta-narrative. As it is, this film along with life and death remain clear like the water of the Thames. But a lingering thought remains, does this film need repeated viewing for its fruits to ripen
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