Radhe, Radhe: the Rites of Holi at BAM

In 1913, the premiere of Stravinsky’s The Rites of Spring caused riots. One hundred years, later it has been codified and canonized to such an extent, considerable programming was commissioned to celebrate its centennial. The music does not directly correlate to Stravinsky’s score, but it served as something of a road map for Prashant Bhargava when he filmed the Holi springtime festival in the Northern Indian city of Mathura. Conceived and commissioned as a collaboration with musician Vijay Iyer, Bhargava’s Radhe, Radhe: the Rites of Holi (trailer here), screens with the composer’s live score accompaniment as part of Iyer’s Music of Transformation concert program at BAM.

Now available on DVD from ECM Records, Radhe, Radhe is sort of an experimental melding music and images in the spirit of Shirley Clarke’s Bridges-Go-Round, but with dramatic and ethnographic components. Bhargava duly captures the eight day Holi festivities in Lord Krishna’s traditional birthplace, but he intersperses the revelry with impressionistic scenes of the goddess Radha, whose ardor for Krishna encompassed and transcended all forms of love.

Although it mirrors the twelve movement structure of Stravinsky’s Rites, viewers will be forgiven if they do not pick up on that point while immersed in the work, especially since the film only identifies two primary sections, “Adoration” and “Transcendence.” Iyer’s solo piano prelude is rather dissonant and free-ish, but it soon gives way to a brightly hued, driving theme with a somewhat Metheny-esque vibe nicely suited to the exuberant crowd scenes. Eventually the flutes evoke the sounds of traditional Indian musical forms, but the trumpets build to a series of rather brassy and jazzy crescendos.

During the “Transcendence” section, Iyer’s skittering piano often announces abrupt mood swings on screen. While Holi is a celebration, nobody is excluded from the customary dousing of colorful dies and powders, regardless of age or general willingness. Indeed, some targets of the merriment clearly do not enjoy the attention, which rather darkens the film’s tone, but it is true to life.

Perhaps the most intimidating challenge fell to actress Anna George, who must convey the passion and devotion of Radha without the benefit of dialogue. Yet, she does so with great power and sensitivity, without ever allowing becoming overwhelmed by Iyer’s roiling score.

The combined artistry of Iyer, Bhargava, and George really transports viewers to an entirely different sphere. Even with the recorded score, it is the darnedest Stravinsky tribute. Hearing it performed live (by Iyer with the International Contemporary Ensemble) should give it a further kick. Recommended for those who appreciate multi-media collaborations, Radhe, Radhe: the Rites of Holi screens during Iyer’s Music of Transformation concerts this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday (12/18-12/20) at BAM.

Marker at BAM: Level Five

The notion people on the internet are not necessarily whom they purport to be might have been an unsettling new notion in 1997. At that time, documentarian-essayist Chris Marker used the language of cyberpunk to inform his then latest cinematic hybrid. Technologically, its fits squarely between WarGames and The Matrix, but the aesthetic is all Marker. The ghosts of history and the digital future warily circle each other when Marker’s freshly restored Level Five (trailer here) finally has its premiere North American Theatrical release this Friday, as part of BAM’s Marker retrospective.

Laura is a novelist, who inherited the task of completing her late lover’s computer strategy game. Submerging herself in his work, she tries to work her way through his simulation of the Battle of Okinawa, the final Pacific Theater conflict before Hiroshima. Yet, the program refuses to recognize any of her attempts to avoid Imperial Japan’s tactical mistakes. Instead, it forces history to tragically repeat itself, chapter and verse.

Frankly, the game itself is not much of a Macguffin and it offers very little in the way of sporting engagement. It is really just a collection of talking heads to click on. Still, the commentary Marker collects is undeniably the film’s strongest material. Through interviews with filmmaker Nagisa Oshima and martial artist and Bushido authority Kenji Tokitsu, as well as the recorded testimony of Reverend Shigeaki Kinjo, Marker thoroughly critiques Imperial militarism, while still putting their kamikaze tactics in a wider historical context.

Frankly, the film makes a strong case that some of the worst Japanese war crimes were committed against their own people. Provocatively, Marker’s experts suggest (but never really prove) the military’s ferocity at Okinawa and the subsequent mass suicides and supposed mercy killings of the civilian population were intended to intimidate the Americans, but inadvertently hastened the decision to drop the atomic bomb.

There could be a good forty-five minutes of insightful analysis of the Japanese war experience in Level Five, which is not nothing. However, Laura’s long dark nights of recorded video diaries and trolling internet chatrooms are rather awkward, to put the matter diplomatically. Ordinarily, it is not fair to hold the technical shortcomings against such a fiercely idiosyncratic, anti-commercial production, but in this case the medium is at least a small part of the message. Unfortunately, Level Five’s visuals look on par with MST3K favorite Overdrawn at the Memory Bank.

Marker still had a keen eye for a disconcerting image or a revealing truth, but the attempt to capture an of-the-moment zeitgeist does not serve the film well, in retrospect. One wishes he had simply made documentary about Kinjo and the Battle of Okinawa, but he made Level Five instead. Nevertheless, his leftist admirers have waited years to see it, so they might as well satisfy their curiosity when Level Five opens this Friday (8/15) at the BAM Rose Cinemas.

King Hu at BAM: Raining in the Mountain

It is a temple, not an inn, but the principles are the same for King Hu. A motley cast of characters have duly assembled to hunt for a precious scroll and influence the succession at Three Treasures Temple. Worldly greed and ambition will clash on sacred ground in King Hu’s Raining in the Mountain, which screens during BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Esquire Wen is a man of means, who has faithfully supported the temple, but he is also a crooked operator, who would prefer to acquire the temple’s priceless Tripitaki scroll as cheaply and dishonestly as possible. To that end, he has retained the services of the notorious thief White Fox to masquerade as his concubine while she cases the joint. Conveniently, the Abbott has requested his presence to offer counsel while he chooses his successor.

However, Wen is not the only double-dealing guest. General Wang Chi is also staying at the temple for the same ostensive and covert reasons. His chief enforcer is the former brigand turned corrupt cop Chang Chen, who had railroaded the temple’s newest acolyte, Chiu Ming on bogus charges. At least the Abbott can trust the counsel of revered layman Wu Wai, who arrives with entourage of beautiful women, because he is already beyond such earthly concerns (but from a cinematic standpoint, it is quite considerate of him).

There is plenty of action in Mountain, but Hu saves most of the martial arts for the climax. Instead, he treats viewers to a feast of acrobatic sneaking around, which looks absolutely fantastic in and about the striking temple setting. It is a huge place, but White Fox and company duck in and out of every alcove and cranny. Hu served as his own art director on Mountain, crafting a wonderfully elegant, richly appointed widescreen-friendly period production.

Mountain is an absolute blast for wuxia fans, thanks to the half-roguish, half-heroic nature of Wen’s party. They are inclined to do the right thing and help Chiu Ming, provided nobody is watching and it will not interfere with their own plans. Nevertheless, there is still plenty of tragedy and irony in the mix, clearly informed by Buddhist religious traditions.

Hu regular Hsu Feng dazzles as White Fox, another woman of great action. Yet, for sheer mischievous glee, it is hard to match Suen Yuet as Wan, the scheming anti-hero. In contrast, Tung Lam’s salt-of-the-earth Chiu Ming has an acutely earnest and forgiving presence, who delivers the film’s Buddhist teachings with credibility.

This is a great film, partly because there are so many contradictory facets to its personality that nonetheless fit together perfectly. It is briskly paced, but increasingly deep and meaningful. Very highly recommended, Raining in the Mountain is a terrific way to conclude All Hail the King when it screens this Tuesday (6/17) at BAM.

King Hu at BAM: The Fate of Lee Khan

The Spring Inn is a lot like Rick’s in Casablanca. Nobody is shocked to find gambling there, while the resistance rubs shoulders with the occupiers. King Hu appreciated the dramatic possibilities of a nice isolated inn, setting three of his classic films within such seedy establishments. Fittingly, The Fate of Lee Khan, the third and least widely seen of his so-called “Inn Trilogy,” screens during the BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Ever since she set up a dice table, “Wendy” Wan Jen-mi’s Spring Inn has crushed the business of her closest competitor. He does not mind, though, because he is her superior in the underground opposition to the Mongols. From him she receives advance warning the dreaded warlord Lee Khan will soon be staying at her inn. The ruthless prince has intercepted a strategically important map from their compatriots, so Wan must steal it back. She has just the right staff for the job: four reformed criminals now working as waitresses. Additional back-up arrives in the form of lowly scholar Wang Shih-cheng and troubadour Sha Yuan-shan, who masquerade as Wan’s bookkeeper cousin and his servant.

After a fair amount of carousing with the rustic locals, the scene is sufficiently set for Lee Khan’s arrival and the fighting chops of former pickpocket Hai Mu-tan are thoroughly established. With the inn closed to all except the staff and the Mongol entourage, the sneaking around begins in earnest.

Frankly, Fate leans more towards intrigue than adrenaline-charged smack-downs, but action director Sammo Hung still blocked out some nice sequences to showcase his good friend Angela Mao. Even though it is a supporting part, nobody can miss the star power she brings to bear as Hai. As Wendy, Li Hua-li is hardly anyone’s push over either. In fact, the five women of Spring Inn vividly demonstrate Hu’s facility for strong “nuxia” swordswomen characters.

One of the strangest aspects of Fate is Lee Khan himself. Feng Tien’s portrayal is not so very far removed from Conrad Veidt’s Maj. Strasser in Casablanca, oozing cunning and malevolence. Yet, everything he says, such as officials should live close to the citizens they govern and should hire the most qualified scholars regardless of ethnicity, makes a good deal of sense. In fact, it sounds downright progressive for the era. Nonetheless, he is still the bad guy.

Featuring characters as colorful as their costumes, The Fate of Lee Khan is a fast-paced comedic-tragedy that should fully satisfy wuxia connoisseurs. It is important both as part of Hu’s thematic trilogy and a relatively early turn from Mao (shortly following Enter the Dragon and Hapkido), but because life is not fair, it is hard to find a watchable print with English subtitles and the original Mandarin dialogue. Since BAM will screen it this Sunday (6/15) as it should be seen, it ought to be a high priority for Hu and Mao fans during the All Hail the King retrospective, now underway in Brooklyn.

King Hu at BAM: The Valiant Ones

It was a chaotic time during the Ming Dynasty, when the coastal provinces were like the Gulf of Aden. Japanese ronin were the Somali pirates of their day, raping and pillaging with impunity, thanks to the corruption of local officials. However, there is a new sheriff in town and he brought two spectacularly skilled deputies. They will take the fight directly to the pirates in King Hu’s The Valiant Ones, which screens during BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Frankly, many in court are hoping Yu Da-you will fail in his imperial assignment to subdue the pirates terrorizing coastal villages. After all, he has a reputation for integrity, just like his inconvenient father. He also has Wu Ji-yuan, a master swordsman, and his wife Wu Re-shi, who happens to be a particularly lethal archer. The bad guys will launch a preemptive attack on Yu, but they are no match for the Wus’ chops. With the reluctant help of a crooked prosecutor busted dead to rights, Yu’s lieutenants will infiltrate the pirates’ lair, posing as mercenaries looking to sign on. Their talents will impress, in more ways than one.

In terms of narrative structure, Valiant is pretty straight forward, marching from point to point in an orderly fashion. However, Hu’s striking seascape vistas give it an epic, widescreen vibe. He also lays down some incredible action sequences choreographed by the then little known Sammo Hung. Arguably, the climatic showdown is a true wuxia landmark, distinguished by feats that defy gravity and evoke classical tragedy.

Granted, Bai Ying and Hsu Feng do not cover an especially wide dramatic range as Wu Ji-yuan and Re-shi, respectively, but they have the moves and the presence. Roy Chiao has a steely Picard-ish air of command as the upright Yu, but Hung’s flamboyant turn as the pirate chieftain, Hakatatsu, seems to be looking for ways to be problematic. Nevertheless, his fight direction is terrifically stylish and camera-friendly.

Valiant is another great example of a strong, resourceful action heroine, presented by Hu in a rather matter-of-fact manner. Both Wu Re-shi and her husband are also highly mortal action figures (although you might not get that impression from a few scenes, if seen in isolation). It is all good stuff, especially well suited to viewing on the big screen. Recommended for wuxia fans who want to see dead pirates piling up and cineaste admirers of Hu’s artistry, The Valiant Ones screens this Friday (6/13) during the All Hail the King retrospective at BAM.

King Hu at BAM: Painted Skin

Somehow, they are both based on Pu Songling’s short stories, but you would be hard pressed to find many similarities between King Hu’s final film and the smash hit Chinese cinema and television franchise of the same name. At least the casting made sense when Zhou Xun succeeded Joey Wong as the supernatural femme fatale with the detachable face. A foolish scholar will get more than he bargained for when he takes in a mystery woman in King Hu’s Painted Skin, which screens during BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Wang Hsi-tzu realizes he might have stayed out too late drinking when he starts seeing strange spectral visions on his way home. Nevertheless, he gets a sudden dose of courage when he encounters You Feng. Moved by claims she was badly abused by her husband’s first wife, Wang takes her into his household, much to the annoyance of his own wife. He may have yet to pass an imperial exam, but even Wang quickly realizes there is something a little off about You.

When confronted by a charm provided by two Taoist priests, You admits she is a ghost, trapped between worlds and held in thrall to the King of Yin and Yang. Half ghost, half man, the evil king commands a death cult of similarly in-between spirits. To escape his power, You will need more help than Wang can provide, she sets off in the company of the two priests, to find a legendary high priest, living a hermit like existence tending peach trees.

Without question, the first third of Painted is by far the most effective. Hu defty creates an eerie nocturnal atmosphere and a metaphysically scary villain. In contrast, the subsequent fantasy quest sequences feel more conventional, even though he nicely conveys the notion that the conflict is joined on both physical and spiritual levels. Still, the conclusion is quite redemptive, in every sense.

Granted, Wong does not have the strongest reputation as a thesp, but when it comes to looking like a doe-eyed lost little girl, she was tough to beat. Likewise, Wang is a great role for Adam Cheng, giving him license to ham it up in two directions. Even though his scenes do not have as much pop, there is no denying Sammo Hung has the appropriate heft, so to speak, for the high priest.

Painted Skin is a relatively minor entry in Hu’s filmography, but it is still a consistently entertaining supernatural wuxia fusion. Indeed, many of his prestigious filmmaker colleagues have ended their careers on weaker codas. Recommended as a ghostly outing in its own right and indispensible for BAM’s retrospective, Painted Skin screens this coming Tuesday (6/10) in Brooklyn, as part of the perfectly named All Hail the King film series.

King Hu at BAM: Come Drink with Me

With the release of ScarJo’s Lucy looming, we can expect the publicity campaign to wax rhapsodic about the significance of a female action hero. Of course, Michelle Yeoh has been kicking butt and carrying action films for decades. So has Angela Mao. Cheng Pei-pei also did it before Johansson and did it far better in King Hu’s Shaw Brothers classic, Come Drink with Me (trailer here), which screens during BAM Cinématek’s retrospective, All Hail the King: the Films of King Hu.

Drink would be Hu’s definitive film for legendary producer Run Run Shaw, but also his last. Furthermore, it introduces the first of Hu’s many strong woman protagonists: Golden Swallow, the daughter of the scrupulously just provincial governor. A gang of outlaws has abducted her brother, expecting to exchange her for a colleague due to be executed for his crimes. Instead, the old man dispatches Golden Swallow to recover her brother and dispense some justice.

Kind of-sort of disguised as a man, Golden Swallow marches into the bandit’s favorite tavern, looking for trouble. They try to oblige, but she far outclasses mere henchmen. Needless to say, they vow to return, with their boss, Jade-Faced Tiger to continue the “negotiations.” To make things fairer, she will make a secret ally in Drunken Cat, the local lush, who is considerably more dangerous than his easygoing façade would suggest.

Come Drink is hardly the most complex wuxia story ever filmed, but it delivers several striking action sequences. Indeed, the fight scenes are vintage Hu, as deeply influenced by ballet as martial arts. It is not hard to gather why Golden Swallow’s exploits are often identified as a forerunner to Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. It is also easy to see how it launched Cheng Pei-pei to overnight superstardom. She has poise, presence, and all kind of moves. (It is hard to fathom mistaking her for a man, but that is a genre convention we just have to go along with.) Even though he sings and clowns as Drunken Cat, Yueh Hua more than holds up his end, bringing to mind Donnie Yen with his earnestly likable badassery.

In fact, there is something appealing about Golden Sparrow being her family’s designated action figure. She is impressive, but not super-heroic. Both she and Drunken Cat have their physical and emotional vulnerabilities, but they demonstrate humanist virtues as well.

Thanks to Hu’s mystical trappings and striking backdrops, Come Drink With Me easily ranks amongst the higher end of Shaw Brothers productions. Nor can anyone argue with Cheng’s iconic work as Golden Swallow. A briskly paced tale of good versus the corrupt, Come Drink With Me is a film all wuxia connoisseurs should catch up with eventually. Highly recommended, it screens this Sunday (6/8) at BAM as part of their King Hu retrospective.

Tribeca ’12: BAM150

In 1962, Rudolf Nureyev made his post-defection American debut at the BrooklynAcademy of Music (BAM) in 1962.  However, the 1960’s would be a difficult decade for the performing arts institution.  Yet, it survived and eventually thrived, as James Sládek documents in BAM150 (trailer here), a portrait of the venue in its sesquicentennial year, which screens again tomorrow during the 2012 Tribeca Film Festival.

Originally founded to rival the concert halls of Manhattan, BAM had a difficult time establishing its own identity, notwithstanding the appearance of high profile artists such as Nureyev, Sarah Bernhardt, and even Mark Twain.  It was more in the business of leasing space than producing performances when Harvey Lichtenstein took the reins of leadership in 1967.

During his tenure, Lichtenstein dramatically raised BAM’s stock through the somewhat contradictory strategies of institutionalizing the avant-garde and pursuing big name performers.  Ironically, the economic growth of the 1980’s helped stabilize the venue despite the many theater pieces it staged protesting the very policies making it all possible.  However, it was nearly all undone by Lichtenstein’s disastrous attempts to establish a repertory company.

BAM150 is a perfectly respectable survey of the hall’s history.  Sládek has a nice approach to the material, smoothly blending moments of quiet Wiseman-esque observation with more conventional talking head sequences.  The combined effect gives audiences a pretty good feel for the rapidly expanding institution.

After previously profiling Mark Kostabi, a somewhat dubious artist more famous than he should be, Sládek has shifted gears, shining a spotlight on an arts organization that ought to be more widely recognized.  It is also a rather shrewd filmmaking decision, since his documentary is a lead pipe cinch to be screened at BAM’s Cinématek.  Still, he faced a bit of a challenge, considering dance and theater performances are fleeting by nature.  As a result, viewers must often settle for descriptions rather than video documentation.  Fortunately, the quality of interview participants helps to compensate, including the likes of Steve Reich, Peter Brook, Alan Rickman, and Isabella Rossellini.

Clearly produced in a celebratory spirit, Sládek never pushes or prods his subjects into any news-making revelations, but he keeps it all moving along briskly.  Most likely destined for an engagement at the BAM Cinématek and an eventual PBS broadcast life, BAM150 is basically pleasant and informative.  Modestly recommended for proud Brooklynites and those fascinating by the performing arts world, BAM150 screens again tonight (4/28) as this year’s Tribeca Film Festival enters its concluding weekend.

HK at BAM: Dragon Inn

It was a dark time in Chinese history, when blood thirsty eunuchs terrorized the land. No, seriously. Operating from his power base in the so-called East Chamber bureaucracy (responsible for intelligence gathering and warfare development), Tsao Siu-yan usurped the Emperor, in terms of practical power if not in official title. Naturally, this did not sit well with the warrior class. Tsao and his fellow eunuchs attempt to entrap one of their more resourceful military rivals using the children of his mentor as bait in Raymond Lee’s wild wuxia epic Dragon Inn, (produced by Tsui Hark, trailer here), which screens as part of BAM mini-retrospective Hong Kong Favorites, co-presented by Subway Cinema.

In the unforgiving desert, only the remote Dragon Inn offers shelter from the baking heat and flash thunderstorms. Like a Ming Dynasty Mos Eisley, an uneasy truce is enforced in the roadhouse by Jade, its sexpot proprietor, whose meat pies are made with Sweeney Todd’s special recipe. Disguised as a man, the Xena-like Yau Mo-yan rescues the children, taking them to the dodgy inn to await Chow Wai-on, their father’s former lieutenant and her prospective lover. However, when the warrior arrives, he turns the jaded Jade’s head. Entering into the intrigue as a wildcard, she devises ways to keep Chow’s party in her inn and get him into her chambers, all while maintaining her Swedish neutrality.

Boasting an all-star cast, Dragon Inn presents Donnie Yen as you have never seen him before: evil and emasculated. Frankly, it is hard to believe it is him pimped out as Tsao. However, it is a familiar role for Brigitte Lin, kicking male butt in Yau’s male garb. Neither is Maggie Cheung (Olivier Assayas’s ex) unaccustomed to playing the sultry femme fatales, vamping it up something fierce as Jade. Indeed, when Lin and Leung square off, it is definitely worth the price of admission (though more of a suggestive ice-breaker than a bone crusher). However, Tony Leung Ka-fai (not to be confused with Tony Leung Chiu-wai who scorched up the screen with Maggie Cheung in 2046 and In the Mood for Love) is a bit bland as Chow. It is hard to see how he could inspire such romantic rival, beyond his willingness to stand up to the eunuchs.

Known as New Dragon Gate Inn throughout Asia, Lee’s film is considered a liberty-taking reboot of King Hu’s 1966 Dragon Gate Inn. It definitely makes use of the Flying Dagger style technological advances, sailing its combatants through the air, every which way. Yet, it is all rendered in the gritty washed out color spectrum of Sergio Leone westerns. The blood is still deep crimson though. In fact, the final showdown is decidedly gory, in a way that is surprisingly macabre. (It also defies logic, but that is neither here nor there.)

New Dragon Inn is more a film for established fans (capable of rolling with its sub-Shaw Brothers visual quality) than a wuxia introductory calling card for the uninitiated. However, for those who want to watch Lin kill people in the air and Leung steam things up on the ground, it definitely all that. Good clean eunuch killing fun, Dragon Inn screens tomorrow (8/1) at BAM as part of the too-short Hong Kong Favorites series.

Bong at BAM: Memories of Murder

Evidently, 1986 was a good year to be a serial killer in South Korea, with periodic protests distracting the police. Inspired by the actual unsolved case of the country’s first publicized serial killer, Bong Joon-ho’s Memories of Murder (trailer here), opens Monsters and Murderers, the director’s upcoming BAM Cinematek retrospective this coming Thursday.

Probably the centerpiece of the series is a pre-release screening of Bong’s latest film, Mother, the story of one woman’s desperate attempt to exonerate her mentally challenged son of a murder conviction. In fact, Mother and Memories are somewhat related thematically, even sharing some important plot points when the provincial police browbeat a false confession out of a slow-witted suspect. Needless to say, they are soon proved tragically wrong.

It starts with one body, but more soon follow. Lending his expertise to the local force, Seoul Detective Seo Tae-yoon identifies certain patterns: rain, red clothing. However, he clashes rather badly with local slacker cop Park Doo-man, even coming to blows at crucial junctures of the investigation. At least they seem to be on the right track when Kwon Gui-ok, the only often-dismissed woman officer on the force, figures out another key trigger—radio requests for an obscure pop song.

Though Memories was only Bong’s second feature, one can still see hallmarks of his decidedly dark approach to genre filmmaker present throughout. It definitely resists feel good heroics, preferring angst and tragedy. Bong clearly is not afraid to kill off characters that would be sacrosanct in Hollywood films and if you want tidy closure, his filmography is probably not for you.

As a noir serial killer, albeit a particularly dark one, Memories is quite effective. While Mother is more challenging in tone and implications, Memories contemplative contemporary coda memorably encapsulates ambiguities and uncertainty of Bong’s world view. As Detective Park, Bong regular Song Kang-ho does lazy and loutish to perfection, while also digging deeper for the really heavy climax and denouement.

Throughout Memories, Bong masterfully maintains the creepy atmosphere and slow-boiling tension, while also offering an unsettlingly grim assessment of human nature. That all seems to be what Bong films are all about based on the evidence of the four features and three shorts programmed for the Monsters and Murderers series. Far superior to Bong’s breakout hit The Host and nearly as strong as Mother, Memories kicks off BAM’s retrospective this coming Thursday (2/25).

Bong at BAM: Shaking Tokyo

There must be something about the city of Tokyo. Some of the coolest people I know are Japanese musicians living in New York. Yet, Tokyo is often represented in pop culture as a lonely city. Indeed, it is portrayed by Bong Joon-ho and two other stylistically distinctive international directors as a city of profound alienation in the fantastical anthology film, Tokyo! (trailer here). Bong’s contribution, Shaking Tokyo, truly personifies alienation, taking the audience into the closed world of the Hikikomori, urban recluses who have almost no human contact whatsoever. Screening separately from the rest of the Tokyo! film, Shaking is part of a slate of shorts programmed for Monsters and Murders, BAM’s upcoming Bong retrospective.

The so-called hikikomori are youngish, acutely withdrawn shut-ins thought to be a particularly Japanese phenomenon by some social scientists. Such is the protagonist of Bong’s Shaking. He must have food delivered, but he steadfastly avoids eye contact with the delivery people. However, when the pizza delivery girl (played by Yu Aoi) mysteriously collapses during an earthquake, he cannot help but take notice of her. Following their surreal encounter, he is a basket-case for two days. Eventually he tries to see her again, but is alarmed to discover his example might have inspired her to adopt the hikikomori lifestyle as well.

Teruyuki Kagawa, familiar to American audiences from the 20th Century Boys series, is quite compelling as unnamed hikikomori, carrying the nearly one-person film, despite the emotionally withdrawn nature of his character. Bong’s oblique camera angles and claustrophobic environment also nicely convey the neurotic perspective of his protagonist. Though there are no monsters or murders in Shaking, the extent of the hikikomori’s anti-social compulsions and their seductiveness to those potentially sharing the inclination is actually quite frightening. Still, unlike his typical features, Bong wraps it all up on a possibly hopeful note (or perhaps not), yet without sacrificing the integrity of his story.

Whether it is because they suffer from deep-seated emotional issues or are running for their lives from wild-eyed Frenchmen, human connections are maddeningly difficult to forge throughout Tokyo! in general and Shaking in particular. It is probably a strong second best installment in a well above average anthology film. It screens with Influenza and Sink and Rise this next coming Monday (3/1) as the Bong retrospective continues at BAM.

Bong at BAM: The Host

Unlike Japan, Korea is not used to being terrorized by large rampaging monsters. While this scaly mutant might not be Godzilla or Mothra sized, it is quick as a cat and reportedly carries a deadly virus, so it definitely a big time threat to Korean homeland security. Yet for one family, fighting the creature gets desperately personal in Bong Joon-ho’s international breakout hit The Host (trailer here), which screens next week during Monsters and Murderers, BAM Cinematek’s Bong retrospective.

It had already been a disappointing day at Park Gang-du’s family snack shack, even before an amphibious monster jumps out of the Han River. They had watched on television as his sister Nam-joo lost her archery competition because she did not release her final shot in time (a little foreshadowing maybe?). It gets far worse when Park’s daughter Hyun-seo is presumed dead in the aftermath of the creature’s first rampage. However, she has actually been more-or-less safely regurgitated back at the monster’s hidden lair and is able to make a brief cell call to her grieving father.

Since the clueless authorities are completely disinterested in the Parks’ possible lead on the monster’s location, they set off to rescue Hyun-seo themselves. To do so, they will have to sneak through various quarantines, because the monster is also the host for a lethally contagious virus, except not really. It turns out that is just one of many deceptions perpetrated by the U.S. military for mysteriously perverse reasons.

How did the monster come into being? Actually, it was all America’s fault, or more specifically the fault of an American military doctor, who had countless bottles of formaldehyde poured down the drain, simply because he is a creep. Indeed, such persistent anti-Americanism is a frequent distraction in The Host and one reason why the film is not nearly as much fun as it ought to be.

Bong is a filmmaker with a tragic sensibility, but it does not lend itself as readily to the monster movie genre, as compared to his dark crime dramas. Still, one of the cool things about The Host is that a major character could conceivably die at any time, so the stakes are always high. Indeed, Bong is not one to compulsively tie his films up with neat happy endings. While this leads to a compellingly ambiguous effect in his previous film, Memories of Murder, it is basically a downer here.

While the monster effects are in fact quite well produced, frankly that is the least important aspect of a good creature feature. Host might have been billed by critics as good clean monster movie fun, but it is actually quite dour and angst-ridden. Its unflattering take on Americans, particularly the military, is not exactly subtle either. In reality, should a giant mutant ever crawl out of the Han River, one would bet Bong would be decidedly relieved to see a company of Yanks show up to engage the beast. Host is the film that made Bong’s name in America though, so one would expect BAM to screen it during their retrospective. However, Bong’s latest, Mother, represents a definite return to form for the director. It is an excellent film that will be reviewed here in conjunction with its March 12th theatrical release. Mother has one special sneak peak screening at BAM on Friday (2/26) and The Host screens the following day, with Bong present for Q&A both evenings.

Schroeder at BAM: Six in Paris

Part of New York’s charm (on a good day) is its distinct neighborhoods. Go a few blocks and the look and feel can change dramatically, but at its core, it is still the same City. That is sort of the idea underlying Six in Paris, a French New Wave anthology film produced by Barbet Schroeder, screening at BAM this Friday, as part of their Mad Obsessions Schroeder retrospective.

The six stories of Paris are each associated with a particular Parisian neighborhood and were helmed by different directors. Schroeder is actually not one of the six. He served as producer and appears in a supporting role in the second installment. However, Paris does boast three of France’s most renowned directors in Eric Rohmer, Jean-Luc Godard, and Claude Chabrol.

It begins in Jean Douchet’s “Saint-Germain-des-Prés,” the city’s cultural district. While the story of an American art student seduced by a French player is a bit slight, its opening narration, accompanied by the sound of jazz and brief guided tour of the neighborhood, effectively sets the film’s people-watching ambiance.

Jean Rouch, whose anthropological documentaries influenced the Nouvelle Vague movement, directed the “Gare du Nord” story. Odille (Nadine Ballot) is unhappily married to the all too content Jean-Pierre, played by Schroeder. After an argument over real estate and their less than prestigious neighborhood (which New York audiences will relate to), she meets a wealthy stranger in the street, who appears to be her ideal man come to tempt her away from married drudgery. However, what starts as a claustrophobic domestic drama becomes a meditation on chance meeting and random tragedy.

Jean-Daniel Pollet’s “Rue Saint-Denis” vignette is more in the people-watching vein again, showing the chaste foreplay between a shy dishwasher and the prostitute he hired for the evening. However, Rohmer’s “Place de L’Etoile,” is the most successful segment of the film, telling the tale of a mild-mannered shop clerk’s fear and paranoia following a fateful metro commute, with the style and economy of a great French short story. Jean-Michel Rouzière is straight-laced perfection as the nervous Jean-Marc, and Rohmer’s witty narration on the nearby Arc de Triomphe as place only tourists visit will again ring true for New Yorkers.

Godard’s "Montparnasse-Levallois" also relies on the ironic twist for dramatic effect, but details like characterization do not bear close scrutiny. It is still an interesting example of early pre-Maoist Godard, with cinematography by the celebrated documentarian Albert Maysles. Claude Chabrol’s concluding “La Muette” is possibly the darkest story and the strongest entry following Rohmer’s contribution. As an unsettling tale of family dysfunction, it is the kind of disturbing subject matter Chabrol continues to mine in his recent films with rich results.

While Paris has a deceptively light tone, the events it depicts are in fact quite heavy for its characters. Like all anthology films, Paris is a tad uneven, but overall its strengths (particularly in Rohmer, Chabrol, and Rouch) predominate. Starting Friday, it plays for a week at BAM along with a program of vastly different Schroeder films, like the recent Devil’s Advocate, a fascinating documentary on French attorney Jacques Vergès, the Zelig of international terrorism, and La Vallee and More, which became his stoner movies thanks to their Pink Floyd soundtracks.