Oh boy, where do I start? It was sombering to see that the concept that so beautifully worked in In the Mood for Love could fall so flat. While this loose sequel explores similar themes, none of the characters got me the least bit interested, the plot was see-through-thin both in terms of what happened and the emotional content, and the pretentiousness of it all just unbearable. Had I seen this in a theater, it would have been one of the rare occasions for me to walk out (though the cinematography, admittedly lost on a TV, might possibly have kept me). At home I sat through it, and I’m glad I did, for the last half hour picked up a bit. But not remotely enough to make this worthwhile. Stay clear.

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Sie steht nahe dem Ausgang, in einem bodenlangen roten Kleid, in der einen Hand die Handtasche, in der anderen eine Tageszeitung, und blickt wortlos und fragend zur Kassentheke hin, wo der Angestellte sich verlegen windet. Das ist, sagt er, nicht die Zeitung von heute, und deutet auf die Zeitung, es ist die von gestern. Sie hebt sie einige Zentimeter in die Luft und macht ein kleines Triumphgeräusch, aber, fährt er fort, dennoch sei sie leider nicht kostenlos, sondern müsse verkauft werden. Fast entschuldigend sagt er das. Sie wendet die Zeitung um, blickt auf die Titelseite, Alt! ruft sie leise, ja, sagt er, trotzdem. Fünfzig Cent. Cent? fragt sie. Er nickt nur noch schwach, es ist ihm nicht recht, die Kundin zu enttäuschen.
Einige Sekunden steht sie da, studiert mit gerunzelter Stirn die Zeitung in ihrer Hand, dann schüttelt sie den Kopf, beugt sich tief hinab zum Bodenregal und legt sie zu den anderen chinesischen Tageszeitungen.

Deutsch, Japan, Miniaturen, Western/Eastern | No Comments »

I’m not sure whether entering a field of knowledge through a basic introduction, or from the middle of an ongoing controversial debate is preferable. Bix’s book represents both aspects, being aimed at those familiar with Japanese history, arguing the case for a change in the perception of wartime emperor Hirohito, from benevolent onlooker and powerless figurehead to bearing full responsibility for Japanese war atroctities and aggression both before and during the second world war. At the same time, it adresses the general reader, using the Sh?wa emperor’s biography as the focal point for depicting the making of modern Japan. The balance between these two different books is worked out fairly well, with some passages dragging on a bit too long, due partly to an overabundance of detail and a flurry of Japanese names and concepts that are sometimes not introduced well enough to properly keep track of for the non-initiated reader.

The controversial main aim of the book, the recasting of Hirohito’s image that had been so carefully constructed by restorative forces in postwar Japan, convinces completely, and the detailed description of the political and social processes that had MacArthur and Hirohito discover their joint purposes during the crucial time of occupation and war crime trials, is especially fascinating when compared with postwar policy in occupied Germany at the same time. In both countries Roosevelts aim of completely uprooting the barbaric aggressive forces that caused the wars, and the chance for an honest assessment of guilt and morality was sacrificed by the Truman administration for practical political strategems in fighting the cold war and the rising communist menace.

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The romantic mood and intimate, at times claustrophobic, cinematography, of this compelling masterpiece pull you in closely, and make you experience the melancholy mood and longing of the main characters first hand, for an almost dizzyingly intense experience. The end left me scratching my head a bit, with especially the disconnected footage of De Gaulle suggesting that I maybe missed a whole level of allegory to the plot, but then again, maybe not. It matters little either way.
There are many great things about this film, but what sticks out most of all is what little in terms of plot and dialogue Kar Wai needs to develop deep characters, and the complex emotional mood of confined desires expressed in every single, beautifully shot frame.

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The meticulous recreation of buildings and social networks of the little digger town somewhere in the cold American Northwest is enough to make this gem worth watching, but the story of McCabe and Mrs Miller that Altman set against this backdrop is in itself touching and rewarding. A very unusual Western, if you want to call it that, with an uncompromising ending. Very interesting to watch the special features, too. Some documentary on the making of the movie, and a movie trailer, both not badly done, but horribly, horribly dated, to the point of being hilarious, while the movie itself is timeless. must be the difference between art and craft.

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There is a song by Tom Lehrer called Send the Marines with the lines “We’ll send them all we’ve got//John Wayne and Randolph Scott”, which I ever only understood half. I had heard of and seen movies with the Duke, but not even the name of Scott sounded familiar. I’m happy to report that this sad state of affairs has changed. Other than that, I liked this early Peckinpah for a nice peek into how life has been not too far from here in both time and space. I remember watching Western movies as fairy tales set in a mythical country with no connection to reality as I knew it – but now that I’ve seen the Central Valley and the Sierra, suddenly all the little plot details, the solitude of the religious nut and his daughter on their farm, the rough digger camp, make much more sense. Unfortunately, the story itself is none too interesting, a somewhat trite tale of friendship, betrayal and friendship again, complete with a heroic death at the end. Maybe it was novel then to have shades of grey, instead of good/bad guy ensembles, and I can certainly see how breaking with such a convention could have given enormous tension to this plot, but from todays point of view, the moral struggle of the straying friend and his rash yet good hearted sidekick is just not very captivating.

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Having cute and ferocious female tigers with big boobs might not be generally considered the peak of sophisitication among science fiction afficionados, but the level of plot and design in general is higher than the screaming tiger lady would have you expect. The Japanese is simple enough to give this apprentice at Japanese occasional thrills of recognition (He said Ikemashoo! He said Ikemashoo!), and that almost seals the deal. But I think I’ll still stop watching this after episode three. So much to see, so little time.

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The best martial arts movies combine poetry and action into something unique, and boy, does this one ever succeed at it. At once a parody of the genre, and a masterful example of it, humor and inventiveness make this an exhilarating masterpiece. The feeling of sheer delight was heightened considerably by the fact that for some reason I expected a Jackie Chan type comedy, with conventional humorous dialogue and moderately original fighting. I was completely unprepared for the cigarette smoking landlady, the dancing axe gang, the lion’s roar megaphone or the toad fighting technique or the numerous other elements of mayhem, and so was entirely without defences. Which is just as well.

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I have to admit to being reluctant to go see this, mainly because I thought it would, beyond the taboo breaking gimmick which seemed to have catapulted the two cowboys into the center of the cultural universe, be an inconsequential and boring love story. Now I feel reluctant to point out how wrong I was, because I’m sure you must’ve heard by now that this is a touchingly real story about failed lifes, magnificently filmed in a beautiful setting.

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There is quite a few gaffes in this movie, the plot is nonexistent, the action drags on forever in places, and the acting oscillates between solid and silly. Still, this is one of the finest martial arts movies ever made. Lee’s technique is amazing, and the surroundings and characters are just done well enough not to intrude.

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