The Answer is Still Blowin' in the Wind

One of the most powerful moments in The Baader Meinhof Complex appeared after the film ended. As the end credits rolled, they were accompanied by Dylan's lyrical anti-war song- The Answer is Blowin' in the Wind. Realising the classic's significance as a protest song during the 60's and 70's, one can reflect upon the irony that the terrorising Red Army Faction originated from the student anti-war protest movement.

It is beyond doubt that, although it is a story about a domestic terrorist group in 1970s' West Germany, the film is making references to the present-day 'War on Terror': The training camps in Jordan; terrorist network in Iraq; the struggle in Palestine; The 1972 Munich atrocity by Black September; Degrading depiction of the US administrations.

Perhaps what struck me most was the scene in which, the police chief, Horst Herold, was expressing his opinion to the anti-terrorist unit that capturing the leaders was not the right answer in dismantling the group. To find an ultimate solution is to first understand and later eliminate the motives behind the violence.

Fast forward 30 years later to 21st Century, when confronted with threats and attacks from the Islam extreme groups, the belief in military retaliation as the right solution is still the prevailing wisdom among superpowers. One can almost predict that so long as Homo Sapiens is around, forces can not be ruled out as the preferred settlement process in any conflicts.

That is indeed, the premise on which James Cameron's Avatar was based. Well into the 22nd Century (the year is 2154, time-stamped on the Sully's videolog) and, as the story goes, human beings are oppressing the Navi species on planet Pandora so the sought-after Unobtanium can be mined.

As observed by many reviewers, Cameron is referring to the various conflicts involving America (historical or otherwise)- from Vietnam to Iraq; from romanticised Pocahontas to fictional Dances with Wolves. I would venture further- the reference is to human civilization. Colonisation exists from prehistorical time and shall continue to thrive- in one form or another.

Cameron has provided a feel-good ending in that the natives of the land prevail over the aggressors. But realistically and historically, how often, if ever, do the natives triumph over the colonisers or will the aggressors, faced with a setback or two, ever stop pursuing their conquests?

The answer is…...

Neo-neorealism in Italian Cinema?

The film title, Gomorra, is both a word play on Camorra, the mafia gang name in real life, and reference to Sodom and Gomorrah in the Old Testament, the towns that were inhabited by grievously sinful people and destroyed by God.

As I take in the non-linear narration, I recalled the recent news that I read of the Italian Prime Minister's alleged mafia connection. It certainly provided an additional dimension and context in reading the film. Especially so as the director adopted a style of fusing fiction with reality, aided in no small parts by the performances of the actors, the on-location shooting and fantastic cinematography and sound engineering.

Italian cinema is, afterall, renowned for its Neorealism school.

Particularly impressive is the crane-shot sequence that tracks the informant as he hurried away from a gang-execution scene. As the camera followed his escape, the on-screen sound faded in and the audience see and hear the bustling daytime traffic that is just feet away from a bloodbath location.

Gomorra was touted by many critics at end of last year to win this year's Oscar for Best Foreign Film, along with Walt With Bashir. I have seen Walt With Bashir and also Departures, the winning entry. And although I am a big fan of Japanese cinema, I feel that Gomorra, though it was not even in the shortlist, is the most accomplished of the three.

Two Ballads of Narayama; One Ode to Humanity

It is inevitable that, having watched the remake(s) and the original film, one will compare and opine which he prefers. Indeed, I was able to reach such conclusion even if both versions were made by the same director- in the case of The Burmese Harp, I much prefer the 1956 version over the 1985 remake; Both were directed by Ichikawa Kon.

For Ballad of Narayama, however, I find myself in a rare position where I could not pick one over the other (in this case I watched the 1983, Imamura version first before catching the 1958, Kinoshita original).

While both versions have essentially the same storyline and plot points, the stylistic and auteuristic treatments are vastly different. Shot in colour that still looks refreshingly vibrant, Kinoshita presented the film in the form of traditional Japanese stage-play and hence shot entirely in studio. While Imasura set his characters amidst the natural mountain and as such the nature became part of the narrative- quintessential Imamura.

And because the plot points are largely similar, at each segment while watch Kinoshita version, I recollected how Imamura presented his and, by comparing and contrasting both, I was astonished at how subtle directorial adjustments could have presented scenes in vastly different ways, all the while keeping the storyline intact.

Example: After depositing Orin at Narayama, her son, Tatsuhei, was descending the mountain and ran into a fellow villager who was forcibly escorting his reluctant father to the the final destination. After some struggles, the man resorted to pushing his old folk over the edge of the mountain, conveniently saving himself the uphill journey.

In Kinoshita's version, Tatsuhei, having witnessed the act, confronted the man who murdered his father. But in Imamura's treatment, Tatsuhei simply stood idle as if he was witnessing a squabble in the marketplace.

That speaks volume about the two masters' contrasting humanistic perspectives: one of moralism vs. fatalism.

Another example: in Kinoshita's version, a flock of crows was featured prominently in the background when Tatsuhei was carrying Orin and ascending the mountain. Knowing their close association with filial piety in oriental culture and that the film was shot in studio (hence the crows could not have appeared on screen by chance), these birds were Kinoshita's props in his critical view of human conduct.

Imamura, by contrast, included lots of empty shots featuring animals in the wild-among them was that of snakes, one of his signature images in many of his movie. (digression: In Imamura final completed film- his 9-minute short film as part of the 11'09"01 project, he finally dropped all hints at suggesting the human being are no different from, say, snakes and portraying a WWII solder who actually thought he was a snake. In bizarre final scene, a snake actually spoke in human voice.)

These shots also bring out the universal-theme in Imamura's films: human being are fundamentally no different from any other species on earth. That our desires are primitive and under the camouflage of moral values is our raw animal instinct of survival that manifest itself when pushed to limit.

Though they approached their films in such contrasting ways, both films have the same profound impact on me as if they were mirrors that reflect both the compassion and fragility of humanity.

They reminded me of the verses that I came across earlier and left me pondering:

"There are so much good in the worst of us; and

There are so much bad in the best of us; that

It is unbecoming of us to judge the rest of us."

Animated Voices

Over the past week, I have seen quite a number of animations at a festival. Notably, in a departure from narrating principally with visually-stunning sequences- as most enjoyable animated features do, three of them stood out with their use of monologues, dialogues and third-person narrations as primary tools of narration. The three films are namely: FROM INSIDE, WALTZ WITH BASHIR and MARY AND MAX.

Technically, FROM INSIDE might be better described as "animated graphic novel with a first person perspective" rather than animation. In monologue, the protagonist was a pregnant woman traveling on a steam-engine train through nightmarish landscapes. Although the sequences are hardly 'animated', haunting scenes of a post-apocalyptic world were voice-overed by monologues that are well-written and performed. The result is an absorbing viewing experience that leaves much to think about even after the screening.

WALTZ WITH BASHIR was probably one of the most talked-about non-English features (not restricting to animation) in 2008. Certainly, the highly-acclaimed animated feature touted to be a documentary is a cinematic feast - with its visually stunning sequences, fine choice of music and the tightly written dialogues and interviews that weaved into a coherent retelling of the 1982 Israeli intrusion into Lebanon.

Despite the high production qualities, I find myself unable to engage fully with the story throughout the screening. Upon reflection after the screening, I realize that, to me, the problem with the film is that it is over narrated. The director, by peppering too heavily with monologues, dialogues and voice-overs are constantly grabbing the attention away from the mis-en-scene. Throughout the film, my senses were constantly engaged and fully occupied such that I had not been able to ponder and be evoked with emotion.

MARY AND MAX was for me the most anticipated film at the festival. And I was not to be disappointed. The story developed through the monologues of MARY and MAX in the forms of exchanged letters (which reminded me of the book "84 Charing Cross Road") with the occasional voiceover of a third person narrator. The sequences were well animated with beautiful cinematography (the use of dual monochrome settings to represent the dull and monotonous lives of Mary in Australia and Max in New York is ingenious) and adorable clay-charecter design. The monologues were accompanied by memorable scenes that accentuate the spoken words. That it was done with humor and understanding of solitude made this an unforgettable film. And with an ending that meet my definition of good drama ("Surprise Audience with the Inevitable"), it is almost a perfect film.

MARY AND MAX is a crowd pleaser and undoubtedly my festival favorite.

Copying Tezuka

As a long-time fan of Tezuka Osamu, I have been anticipating the release of Astro Boy on the big screen. When I finally caught the trailer in the cinema, however, the enthusiasm was taken over by sense of disappointment. It was as if someone has just sold me a cheap copy of the Parker "Duofold" fountain pen that is made in China at full price.

At first, I could not quite pinpoint why but as I matched the English dialogues against the movements of the charecters' lips, it became obvious. This is an animation that has been 'adapted' into a Hollywood production and all the characters speak English- not dubbed into English, even thought they are based on a Japanese Manga. Further, the gags and punchlines sounded and presented indifferently from, say, "Ice Age".

Psst... Copy Animation, anyone?

Cloudy with a Chance of Homage

By its (G)ereal rating, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is targeted at the young ones. But I find the animated feature surprisingly entertaining for adults too. The dialogues are witty, characters are properly developed and plot is well thought-through- the inventions that appeared in earlier part of the film, seemingly arbitrary, are in fact important plot points and their reappearances are always well-timed and draw laughters.

It also has a clear message: Do not tamper with nature.

Yet the most enjoyable part for me is the many references it drew from classic and cult films and/or literatures. I probably will find more if I watch the film again but here are the few that I picked up (Potential Spoiler Ahead):

Ratbirds: Wizard of Oz;

Monkey thought Translator: Congo

Passage to Lab: Space Odyssey 2001

Headless Chicken: Eraser Head

Fighting Chicken Suit: Alien/ The Matrix

Journey through Cloud's core: Journey to the Centre of the Earth

Escape from Flying Pizza: Star Wars

Roving periscope: The Abyss

Design of cloud chute: Alien/ Little Shop of Horrors

Fighting Sequence of Steve, the monkey: King Kong

Remembering Ichikawa Jun

焚我殘軀， 熊熊聖火，

生亦何歡， 死亦何苦。

為善除惡， 惟光明故，

喜樂悲愁， 皆歸塵土。

憐我世人， 憂患實多，

憐我世人， 憂患實多。

The verses were taken from the Chinese novel, 倚天屠龍記. When I reflect upon Ichikawa-san and the themes of his films not long ago after the screening of his last film, Buy A Suit, the passage came naturally to mind.

On this day last year, I received the news of his passing away. Here is dedicating the verses to his memories. I wonder what he would say if I had the chance to show them to him.

Temple, Video Game, Wheel and Fighter Jets

The experience of watching The Sky Crawlers (Oshii Mamoru) is like visiting a Buddhist temple with an attached video game room. While one gets to be enthralled by some of the most stunningly animated dogfight sequences, other parts of the film slow to a crawl by depicting the routine daily life at the airbase. And Oshii was obviously stingy with the time allocation to video game as oppose to meditating. I can almost hearing the snoring in the cinema when audience has to endure disproportionately long depiction of mundane and repetitive stuff for short moments of explosive aerial action.

That is of course the message itself. Instead of just embedding it within the film through images and sound, Oshii conveyed it by inflicting it upon the audience.

As laid out as part of The Four Noble Truths (四諦) in Budhism, human beings' crave for sensual pleasure, extermination and existence is the origin of sufferings.

Thus, in the alternate reality of the film where world peace is attained, human created the war game industry when two companies were contracted to fight each other, for consumption;

Thus, the pilots were recruited from a species who remain forever young and can be reincarnated after death and be sent back into 'combat';

Thus, the excruciating pain when the species fell in love, carried on with the meaningless 'killings', be killed, reborn with no memory retained, sent back to the same base and carry on with the routine life.

Thus, I was watching the rotating wheel go round, intentionally embedded by Oshii or not.

sky+crawlers.jpg

"4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days"

"4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days" is as much a personal story of two Romanian girls as it is a political fable of Romania. Set in 1987, Communist Romania, a college student, Otilia, was assisting her pregnant roommate, Gabita, to have an illegal abortion. As they overcame obstacles and moved closer to performance of the procedure, Otilia internalised the struggle and became increasingly emotionally involved. The experience had driven her to review her own relationship with boyfriend who came from a privileged family.

The characters and the story were well developed. But I feel the real achievement of the film lies in its political commentary focusing on the Romanian society at the eve of the revolution- in two year's time, the Berlin Wall fell and with it the end of communist rules East of the Iron Curtain. In the case, of Romania, the communist regime's collapse was marked by the execution of Nicolae Ceausescu in December 1989. After all, as the end credit suggests, the director had alternately named the project 'Tales from the Golden Age'. Here what I gather, at the risk of reading too much:

Just like other ordinary Romanians, Otilia and Gabita had long been resigned to ordinary life within the communist-ruled society. They were happy to study and work as the Party directed and enjoy the occasional capitalist consumables (cigarettes, Tic-Tac etc) obtained via the black market.

Just like other ordinary Romanians, when Gabita encountered troubles that could not be resolved legally, they resort to underground channel. Whether the matter is satisfactorily tackled, help seekers are inevitably taken advantaged of by the 'service provider' who often practice the same trade in state-controlled organizations. As if it was her second nature, she concealed some facts and intentions even from Otilia.

Otilia too was constantly looking over her shoulders for any government agents or informers. She became even more distrusting of the system when she was invited to her boyfriend's place to attend his mother's birthday party.

At the 'upper-class' family's home, the parents and their elitist friends were dining and chatting away not unlike their Western-Europe counterparts- completely oblivious to the hardships in 'common' Romanian families and pending revolution. Nor do they give much regard to the Otilia whom they deemed as having a different (read: lower) social background.

Otilia finally decided that she should disassociate herself from the elite-class, a social status that, before this dreadful day, she long to be associated with but was now just a disillusion. She ended her relationship and left the boyfriend's house.

Just like other ordinary Romanians, both Otilia and Gabita found it hard to adjust to aborting an ideology that has before been ingrained in their minds. The jarring sense of lack of security was epitomized in the scenes in which Gabita pleaded with Otilia to bury the fetus in way she deemed appropriate and Otilia was roaming around town in search for the appropriate burial place in the cold, harsh winter night.

When she finally returned to met Gabita in the hotel, they found that the restaurant was out food. A wedding party, presumably hosted for the elite class, had just ended and the waiter was kind enough to fetch some of the party's left-over food for the two ordinary Romanian girls who emerged from the topsy-turvy night knowing that they are facing a very different world as before.

Just like other ordinary Romanians, post-Ceausescu.

偶開天眼覷紅塵，可憐身是眼中人

The couplet came from the last two lines of a poem by Wan Guo-Wei (王國維), a Qing Dynasty scholar. My translation:

"Through the lens of enlightenment I chance upon glimpses of humanity,

and realize with resignation that embedded within is my destiny."

Written a hundred years ago, it reflects the writer's fatalistic outlook. In present day, the couplet curiously describe the medium that we know as films. Indeed, when we watch a film, we are seeing the visions as framed and captured by the director through the camera lens. The director is employing the images to tell us a story and as we laugh and cry and sigh and rage as the narration progress, we become emotionally invested with the character(s) on screen. We feel for them as we internalize the destiny of the characters as our own.

Beside being a good metaphor, the couplet's spirit is being practiced by some directors as well. They point the cameras to peek a glimpse at humanity and, as audience, we are spellbound by the deeper messages beyond the sights and sounds. As intended by the director or otherwise, we engage in a virtual Q&A session with ourselves about the meaning of life, both within and without the context of the films. The only answer to that can only be that we are to find out by practice as we live our own lives.

Some of the directors that I adore, whose works evoke the philosophy of the couplet are:

Abbas Kiarostami (in particular, Close-Up), Imamura Shohei (in particular, The Pornographer), Theo Angelopoulos, Edward Yang, Krzysztof Kieslowski and Ichikawa Jun.

p.s. Wang Guo-Wei died of suicide when he was 51. Here is the full text of the poem, 浣溪沙:

山寺微茫背夕曛，鳥飛不到半山昏。上方孤磬定行雲。

試上高峰窺皓月，偶開天眼覷紅塵，可憐身是眼中人。

Owaranai Uta

The annual Japanese Film Festival is upon us again. Of the 6 previous festivals that I am deeply involved, my most personal one was that of 2006- the theme was "Friendship".

The theme was to commemorate the 40th anniversary of diplomatic relationship between Japan and Singapore. But for me, it was a good opportunity to pay homage to my youth and my friends whom I spent seemingly endless times with and I feel as close as family.

Many of the films at the festival that year, therefore, explore the coming-of-age period and celebrate friendship.

And the final scene in LINDA, LINDA, LINDA is to me the most apt in presenting the theme: the four high-school girls who formed a band in 3 days, after going through thick and thin together, presented at the school's rock festival the ending song: "Owarania Uta". Translated in English: "Endless Song". As the band performs and rains pour down seemingly endlessly, empty shots of the school were edited into the montage: class room, locker area, open field, swimming pool- places that brings back lots of personal memories.

Yes, the rain will end, just as the good-old-days. But the memories linger on endlessly, just as the song.

Here is the scene and below that the translated lyrics (from rifat1984's Blog):

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuso dare no sekai no tame

for all the shit in the world

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

subete no kuso tomo no tameni

everything is for the shit and all the followers

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

boku ya kimi ya karera no tame

for me,you and them

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

ashita ni wa waraeru you ni

as if we laugh at tommorow

yo no naka ni tsumetakusarete

down inside of me was so cold

hitori bochi de nai tayoru

feel all alone nothing to grip on

mo dame datto omou koto wa

i tought i dont want to feel it again

ima made nandodemo atta

but up until now how many time it happen

honto no shunkan wa itsumo shinu hodo kowai mono dakara

at the moment of truth im always affraid of die,that why

nigedasu shitakunai ta koto wa

try not to runaway

ima made nandodemo atta

but up until now how many time it happen

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuso dare no sekai no tame

for all the shit in the world

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

subete no kuso tomo no tameni

everything is for the shit and all the followers

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

boku ya kimi ya karera no tame

for me,you and them

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

ashita ni wa waraeru you ni

as if we laugh at tommorow

nareai wa suki ja nai kara

coz i dont like conspiracy

togaisarete mo shoganai

out of the line is no other choise

soredemo boku wa kimi no koto

but still thing all about us

itsu datte omoidasu darou

maybe oneday will be me remembered

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuso dare no sekai no tame

for all the shit in the world

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

subete no kuso tomo no tameni

everything is for the shit and all the followers

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

boku ya kimi ya karera no tame

for me,you and them

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

ashita ni wa waraeru you ni

as if we laugh at tommorow

slow part

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuso dare no sekai no tame

for all the shit in the world

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

subete no kuso tomo no tameni

everything is for the shit and all the followers

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

hitori bochi de nai tayoru

feel all alone nothing to grip on

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuchiake gai aisarete hibi

a victory song to start our day!!

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

kuso dare no sekai no tame

for all the shit in the world

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

subete no kuso tomo no tameni

everything is for the shit and all the followers

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

boku ya kimi ya karera no tame

for me,you and them

owaranai uta wo utao

lets sing an endless song

ashita ni wa waraeru you ni

as if we laugh at tommorow

UP is 'Thumbs Down'

I am suspecting that the development of the character Carl Fredricksen's look in Disney/ Pixar's summer blockbuster "Up" is inspired by Mr Warren Buffett. Take a look:

And the similarity extends beyond appearance. Both Carl Fredricksen and Warren Buffet stayed in the same house for decades; Both married their teenage/childhood sweethearts.

The observation keep me excited for a while when watching the animation but that is pretty much it. Aside from one other instance in which I was laughing out loud, I am pretty much underwhelmed by the latest Pixar effort (the laughing segment involves Fredricksen telling a story between a squirrel and his acorn).

I think a much better film is the short animation, "Partly Cloudy", that precede the feature. Though both have a common theme (Wild Life) and convey similar messages (biodiversity and preservation), the shorter of the two tell the story in a much more engaging and lively fashion. Much like the first 30 minutes of Wall-E, not a single line of dialogue was employed yet I enjoy every frame of the 6-minute short.

Nor are the animation and the 3-D effect spectacular to the extent one would expect from Pixar. A disappointment overall.

The Yasmin I Know

I first met Yasmin in 2004. That year, I caught RABUN at Singapore International Film Festival. I knew nothing about the film before the screening except that the fact the director was a fellow Malaysian. The screening was at the Goethe Institut auditorium, a les than ideal screening venue, and in VHS format. Yet I found myself enjoying it. That came as a surprise as most Singaporean and Malaysian films then (and, dare I say, even now) are technically not films but video. RABUN, despite some rough edges, is a proper film, an emotional engaging one at that.

After the screening, I chatted with some friends and an old classmate mentioned that she knew Yasmin in person. As a Film Society programmer, I requested that she pass my contact to Yasmin so I may ask for another screening at the society.

The following day, upon further research on the internet, I knew more about Yasmin, her stellar advertising career and that I have in fact seen her many works over Malaysian TV channels. Particularly impressive ones were those she made for Petronas broadcast over Chinese New Year. I thought then perhaps the high-profile person like her would not be bother to get in touch with an unknown contact.

I was wrong- she called a few days later and we talked business for a while. Then I suggested meeting up the next time I went up to Kuala Lumpur so I can get from her the RABUN VHS. She agreed to meet me at an cafe near her office.

When we met at the cafe, we immediately hit it off like old friends. Later she invited me to her office and we talked some more- about films, books, Malaysian and Singaporean cultures. What I anticipated as a short, rather formal meeting to pick up a tape turned into a friendly exchange that lasted more than an hour.

After the Society's screening of RABUN, we stayed in touch and caught up several times whenever she visited Singapore. In recent years, however, I have not seen that much of her, apart from on screen (she played a role in Ho Yu Hang's RAIN DOGS) and her appearances on newspapers and TV. Yet I engaged in virtual-conversation with her when watching her works: "That idea of minimally narrated TV commercial is so Iranian."; "I see Yamada Yoji's influence in that weeping scene."; "Aha! That final scene is direct copy of Kiarostami." etc.

Her films are certainly not perfect. Segments of the films may look compartmentalised and out-of-place with the overall flow of the narrative. I guess that is a common trait among commercials-director-turned film makers. Her strong desire to showcase multiculturalism in her films may be peculiar or jarring to the film structure. Nevertheless, the emotion within are genuine and infectious and the stories are certainly close to hearts for many Malaysians and Singaporeans. At times, she would include some elements of social commentaries on Malaysian society that come across as daring and controversial. The courage is truly admirable given that her day job involved dealing with people that may come from organisations with vested interests.

Personally, I enjoy her commercials more than her films. Over the years, she made many of them for mainly two accounts: Petronas and TV3. Those for Petronas ones were particularly endearing and often moved me to tears. As a national oil company, Petronas annually commissions TV advertisements that, rather than marketing the company or its products, celebrate Malaysia and its diverse culture and they are aired over the National day (31 August), Hari Raya and Chinese New Year. It is in these 1-2 minutes clips that really bring home her vision of love is a universal language. Thus whether it is the Hari Raya or Chinese New Year message, I always feel a swelling in my heart.

Don't take my word for it- catch the youtube video below (thanks for their service, we are able to watch and re-watch many of her commercial works) and ask yourself if the message is any diminished should it be any where else in the world.

I am looking forward to seeing this year's Merdeka clip which I presume Yasmin has completed prior to her departure.

Yasmin, wherever you are, let me tell you that you are the woman outside of my family who made me cried the most over the years. So long and thank you for all the tears.

Let the Right One in

Though their screen appearances are limited, the two "father" figures loom large.

Audience was not told of the information but it can be inferred that Oskar's parents are divorced. And while Oskar stays with his mother, his father, in Oskar's eyes, leads a disagreeable lifestyle. It is therefore not hard to imagine that Oskar's loneliness, reclusiveness, violent tendency and susceptible to being bullied derive from his father's absence from his life and the shame that he feels in not having a complete and normal family. Hence, when Eli enters his life, Oskar has no second thought of accepting and embracing her even after knowing her true identity.

The other "father" figure is Eli's companion whom she refers as her father. If Eli is a 200-year-old vampire, the middle-aged man surely cannot be her father. Judging by the extend to which he is prepared to go in satisfying her thirst, he must love Eli dearly and unconditionally. Significantly, could history be repeating itself 40 years down the road when Oskar becomes a middle-aged man himself?

Love never dies.

Impression of Happy-Go-Lucky

Road to reality,
row, drive, walk, cycle or just
Happy-Go-Lucky

Angels and Demons vs. The Da Vinci Code

The Da Vinci Code, the novel, may have been more popular than Angels and Demons written before it (simple statistic: numbers of reviews on amazon.com as at 2 June 2009 read 3,900 vs 2,308). The general consensus for the two adapted films, however, show over-whelming preference for the latter. Reasons given: tighter pacing, action sequences were more exciting, better hair-do, less irritable accents.

I generally agree with the consensus. In addition, I prefer the film version of Angels and Demons over that of The Da Vinci Code because a key part in the book was omitted in the film: they were suppose to have decode one additional cryptex before getting to the secret. It is a crucial plot point in the book that there should be a pair of cryptexes, which has to be left out due to length constraint.

So, it was a relief for me that there remain four elements in Angels and Demons, the film.

Beside my little squabble with the earlier film, Angels and Demons is indeed the more involving of the two. Exhibit 2: the scores.

Both films were scored by Hans Zimmer and an unusual decision was made: some of the score in The Da Vinci Code was re-arranged and used lavishly in Angels and Demons. Indeed, the climatic endings share essentially the same scores, performed and arranged differently, as one can listen for oneself in th links provided below. Yet I walk out of the cinema remembering the music in Angels and Demons but not the case for The Da Vinci Code.

American Ganster

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.

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.

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.

Impression of The Wrestler

Best years behind them,
leaping off flesh parade is
all too Sisyphean.

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)

Impression of The Reader

Searching Redemption,
Mutual Company Found in
Solitude of Guilt.