Despite its critical and box-office successes, American Gangster is a less engaging and complete film compared with Protege, a Hong Kong production directed and written by Dereck Yee that was produced and released a year earlier.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
On "Eraserhead" and "A Lustful Man"
It was an interesting experience- last week, I watched David Lynch's "Eraserhead" and Masumura Yasuzo's "A Lustful Man".
In his feature debut, Lynch has already shown some of his universal themes and signature motifs that recur in his later films - e.g. ambient noise, severed human organs, social outcasts, dysfunctional and perverse family relationship. The one universal theme that interest me most in Eraserhead and, for that matter, all other Lynch's films is women.
That too is the central theme of A Lustful Man. Despite the film title and the protagonist's attitude towards women, Masumura was actually expressing outrage toward how women are ill-treated in ancient and indeed present-day Japanese society.
To have watched two totally different films back-to-back at random and both evolve around the same theme but yet the approaches are completely different- misogynist in the former and philogynist in the latter, is indeed the joy of watching and reading films.
In his feature debut, Lynch has already shown some of his universal themes and signature motifs that recur in his later films - e.g. ambient noise, severed human organs, social outcasts, dysfunctional and perverse family relationship. The one universal theme that interest me most in Eraserhead and, for that matter, all other Lynch's films is women.
That too is the central theme of A Lustful Man. Despite the film title and the protagonist's attitude towards women, Masumura was actually expressing outrage toward how women are ill-treated in ancient and indeed present-day Japanese society.
To have watched two totally different films back-to-back at random and both evolve around the same theme but yet the approaches are completely different- misogynist in the former and philogynist in the latter, is indeed the joy of watching and reading films.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Distant Voices, Still Lives
Watching "Distant Voices, Still Lives" is like watching Terence Davies' Home Video- 80-minutes long at that. I was half-expecting to watch 10 to 15 minutes of the DVD and move on to watching something else.
Instead, I sat (slouch is my usual posture) and watched the entire film. It was every bit as personal as I had expected yet the emotions exuded were rich and universal.
The voices may be distant but they were also closed to hearts. Lives of the bygone years may be still, as captured in photos, but they live within memories.
Instead, I sat (slouch is my usual posture) and watched the entire film. It was every bit as personal as I had expected yet the emotions exuded were rich and universal.
The voices may be distant but they were also closed to hearts. Lives of the bygone years may be still, as captured in photos, but they live within memories.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Sunday, March 01, 2009
Poetries in Iranian Films
Has there been a study done on the varieties of promotional critical quotes on movie posters? Carefully selected, they are intended to appeal to the films’ target audience. Here is a collection (by no means exhaustive) of some of them:
Hard Sell: “(Two) Thumbs (Way) Up ! (!!!…);
Direct Sell: “Non-Stop Action”;
Statistical: “Five Stars/Hankies/Popcorns”;
Abstract: “Poetic”
Among them, probably the last example relates best to arthouse audience. So how is a film poetic?
The term is often generously employed for mainstream titles that tell a romantic story and with beautiful cinematographic shots. Films like Atonement and English Patient come to mind. While many of these films are highly watchable and possess artistic merits, the link between poetry and films extend beyond the intuitive categorisation.
Poetry, in its written form, is highly distinguishable from others such as novels and essays in its structure and rhythm. In short verses that conjure up images, imaginations and emotions, it is as much a literary form as expression of living. In that sense, Iranian films probably most closely reflect the essence of poems. For over centuries, poetry is the predominant art form in Persian culture. When Iranian film-makers turn to narrating stories with cameras, it is natural for them to adopt some of the unique characteristics of poem in their works.
It is therefore quite a different experience watching Iranian films compared with mainstream films. Just as one who enjoys reading The Da Vinci Code might need some adjusting to appreciate The Road Not Taken, one will need to approach Iranian films differently in order to capture its beauty in full blossom.
First requirement: Patience. Iranian films are typically minimalistic in style: Shots are beautifully composed and longer than usual; narrations are generally character-driven rather than event-driven; plot points, if any, are not distinctly identifiable. It is therefore necessary to sit back and allow our minds be carried along by the images and invest ourselves with the characters. Gradually, in the magical hands of a talented director, we will feel with the characters.
Taste of Cherry (1997; Director: Abbas Kiarostami) is one such film. The film tells the story of a suicidal man’s search for help in making sure his body shall be properly buried after his final act. In search of the ‘prospective' employee, he drives aimlessly across town and picks up strangers who are willing to listen and talk.
The director placed the camera within the car and on the front passenger’s seat. It was directed mostly on the protagonist but panned out occasionally and take in the scenes outside of the car. These empty shots form an important narrative for audience who patiently take in the dialogues, mostly conversational but philosophical when read in conjuncture with sequences such as the dusts blowing in the wind and passing cloud covering the moon. How the film ends (or not) is probably not important for we have taken a spiritual journey along side the protagonist.
Imagination is also an important attribute in appreciating Iranian films. Iranian directors tend to prefer images to narrators in expressing their ideas. As audience, we are demanded to work harder in piecing the images and narratives together and discern directors’ messages.
Kandahar (2001; Director: Mohsen Makhmalbaf) tells the story of an Afghan-borned journalist who returns to and travels across the Taliban-ruled, war-torn motherland in search of her sister. One of the sequences in the film lingers on years after one has seen the film: An aid organization is airdropping prosthetic legs in a desert. As the false limbs drops to ground, a group of amputated men is seen, in slow motion, rushing toward the drop zone in clutches. The emotions of longing and tiredness on their faces are juxtaposed together with their desired items parachuting down from the sky. The anti-war message is subtly delivered through our inference from the images.
Above all, to truly appreciate Iranian Cinema, one should be equipped with empathy for life. For living is the central character in virtually all Iranian films. To that end, many of the actors and actresses are non-professionals. They are cast not for their acting skills but because they live the characters’ lives. Their performances, if you can call it that, therefore pierce directly across the screen and right into our hearts.
Like a bottle of good wine, good Iranian films are subtle, multifaceted and long in finish. The structure is not apparent at first but the construction is paced by the directors to evoke feelings in the hearts and minds of the audience toward the larger motif of life.
It is also poetry.
(The article first appeared in printed edition of asia! Magazine)
Hard Sell: “(Two) Thumbs (Way) Up ! (!!!…);
Direct Sell: “Non-Stop Action”;
Statistical: “Five Stars/Hankies/Popcorns”;
Abstract: “Poetic”
Among them, probably the last example relates best to arthouse audience. So how is a film poetic?
The term is often generously employed for mainstream titles that tell a romantic story and with beautiful cinematographic shots. Films like Atonement and English Patient come to mind. While many of these films are highly watchable and possess artistic merits, the link between poetry and films extend beyond the intuitive categorisation.
Poetry, in its written form, is highly distinguishable from others such as novels and essays in its structure and rhythm. In short verses that conjure up images, imaginations and emotions, it is as much a literary form as expression of living. In that sense, Iranian films probably most closely reflect the essence of poems. For over centuries, poetry is the predominant art form in Persian culture. When Iranian film-makers turn to narrating stories with cameras, it is natural for them to adopt some of the unique characteristics of poem in their works.
It is therefore quite a different experience watching Iranian films compared with mainstream films. Just as one who enjoys reading The Da Vinci Code might need some adjusting to appreciate The Road Not Taken, one will need to approach Iranian films differently in order to capture its beauty in full blossom.
First requirement: Patience. Iranian films are typically minimalistic in style: Shots are beautifully composed and longer than usual; narrations are generally character-driven rather than event-driven; plot points, if any, are not distinctly identifiable. It is therefore necessary to sit back and allow our minds be carried along by the images and invest ourselves with the characters. Gradually, in the magical hands of a talented director, we will feel with the characters.
Taste of Cherry (1997; Director: Abbas Kiarostami) is one such film. The film tells the story of a suicidal man’s search for help in making sure his body shall be properly buried after his final act. In search of the ‘prospective' employee, he drives aimlessly across town and picks up strangers who are willing to listen and talk.
The director placed the camera within the car and on the front passenger’s seat. It was directed mostly on the protagonist but panned out occasionally and take in the scenes outside of the car. These empty shots form an important narrative for audience who patiently take in the dialogues, mostly conversational but philosophical when read in conjuncture with sequences such as the dusts blowing in the wind and passing cloud covering the moon. How the film ends (or not) is probably not important for we have taken a spiritual journey along side the protagonist.
Imagination is also an important attribute in appreciating Iranian films. Iranian directors tend to prefer images to narrators in expressing their ideas. As audience, we are demanded to work harder in piecing the images and narratives together and discern directors’ messages.
Kandahar (2001; Director: Mohsen Makhmalbaf) tells the story of an Afghan-borned journalist who returns to and travels across the Taliban-ruled, war-torn motherland in search of her sister. One of the sequences in the film lingers on years after one has seen the film: An aid organization is airdropping prosthetic legs in a desert. As the false limbs drops to ground, a group of amputated men is seen, in slow motion, rushing toward the drop zone in clutches. The emotions of longing and tiredness on their faces are juxtaposed together with their desired items parachuting down from the sky. The anti-war message is subtly delivered through our inference from the images.
Above all, to truly appreciate Iranian Cinema, one should be equipped with empathy for life. For living is the central character in virtually all Iranian films. To that end, many of the actors and actresses are non-professionals. They are cast not for their acting skills but because they live the characters’ lives. Their performances, if you can call it that, therefore pierce directly across the screen and right into our hearts.
Like a bottle of good wine, good Iranian films are subtle, multifaceted and long in finish. The structure is not apparent at first but the construction is paced by the directors to evoke feelings in the hearts and minds of the audience toward the larger motif of life.
It is also poetry.
(The article first appeared in printed edition of asia! Magazine)
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Bolt
I am neither an animal nor animation fan (in fact, I don't like dogs). I do not particularly enjoy Disney productions (in fact, I dislike Hollywood films in general). I went into Bolt to catch a glimpse of the 3-D technology that is going to be the future of cinema experience (and was underwhelmed by its deployment in Bolt). The story line is routine and predictable (typical of Disney production).
Yet, I was all misty-eyed by the time the final sequence ended. There is something magical in the characters and the way the story is told. I guess if we were to assume it to be pixar-effect (a reasonable deduction given that it was produced by John Lasseter), the acquisition of Pixar would be one of the most rewarding purchases Disney has ever undertaken.
Yet, I was all misty-eyed by the time the final sequence ended. There is something magical in the characters and the way the story is told. I guess if we were to assume it to be pixar-effect (a reasonable deduction given that it was produced by John Lasseter), the acquisition of Pixar would be one of the most rewarding purchases Disney has ever undertaken.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Monday, November 10, 2008
Friday, November 07, 2008
Sex and the City
From the start of the movie, we were expecting Labels and Love...
But instead, as the film progresses, the central theme is actually Friends and Food:
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Impression on Johnnie To's Exiled
<野 店>
鄭愁予
是誰傳下這詩人的行業
黃昏裹掛起一盞燈
啊，來了
有命運垂在頸間的駱駝
有寂寞含在眼裹的旅客
是誰掛起的這盞燈啊
曠野上，一個矇矓的家
微笑看……
有松火低歌的地方啊
有燒酒羊肉的地方啊
有人交換著流浪的方向…
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