NYAFF ’19: The Pool

Before we see one second of visuals, this film assures us no animals were hurt during its production. That’s great, but most viewers will be more concerned about the humans. It predates Crawl, forcing humans and a particularly ornery crocodile into perilously close quarters. Truly, one darned thing after another befalls poor Day in Ping Lumpraploeng’s viciously clever The Pool, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

After a hard day working on the set of a silly hipster commercial, Day relaxes in the pool where they were filming. Unfortunately, he falls asleep when the location manager starts draining the water. When he awakens, he can no longer reach the ladders to exit. Through an unfortunate set of circumstances, his girlfriend Koi dives in with him, bashing her head in the process. Now both are trapped in the dwindling water, out of reach of his trusty dog Lucky and his insulin shots above (yes, of course, Day is a diabetic).

By the way, due to recent flooding, a crocodile managed to escape from the local zoo, so you know what that means. It will be pretty obvious from the gory in media res opening. Man must play a savage game of cat and mouse with the crocodile to survive.

Granted, The Pool can be ridiculously contrived at times, but that is sort of the whole point of a film like this. Naturally, Day will always fall asleep at the worst possible moments, because that is how it goes. The important points are how cleverly his Olympic pool-sized prison is constructed and how dexterously Lumpraploeng maintains the tension in this ultra-claustrophobic setting. This is some remarkably skillful minimalist genre filmmaking.

Theeradej Wongpuapan makes a totally convincing Job-like figure as Day, while Ratnamon Ratchiratham is distressingly vulnerable as Koi. However, there is absolutely no question the big mean Croc steals the show. Lucky is also quite the likeable pooch, but this whole premise is sure to distress dog lovers (let’s just say The Pool is no Dog’s Way Home and leave it at that).

For the most part, The Pool is one set and four characters, including croc and dog, but all the elements work in concert quite devilishly. Recommended for fans of angry animal horror, The Pool screens this Sunday (7/14) as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: Zombiepura

There are reasons to think a military base would be a good place to be when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. They have plenty of guns and medicine stock-piled and a guard duty schedule is already in place. Alas, the survival rate will still be pretty low for the Singaporean soldiers in Jacen Tan’s Zombiepura, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

This film has been billed as Singapore’s first zombie film—and the tiny archipelago nation is off to a decent start. However, the main character does not wear so well. Corporal Tan Kayu is a slacker reservist largely lacking charm as well as discipline. Ironically, when he tries to fake conjunctivitis to get out of drills, it will put him squarely in the eye of the zombie hurricane (that is a metaphorical zombie hurricane, not a literal SyFy Channel movie zombie hurricane).

Together with Sgt. Lee Siao-on, the son of the regiment commander, and Susie, the daughter of the canteen caterer, Tan will have to fight his way out of the infirmary and avoid the zombies shuffling all over the base. It will be a challenge for Tan and the by-the-book Lee to put aside their differences, given their history of Gomer Pyle-style antagonism. Frankly, the zombies are probably working as a more cohesive unit. Thanks to muscle memory and conditioned responses, the zombie soldiers continue to stand guard and make patrols. More usefully, they stand stock-still whenever the national anthem is played.

Jacen Tan deserves credit for developing some amusing new twists to the established zombie conventions. However, his characterization could still use a little work. There is not a darned thing about Tan Kayu that is appealing or interesting, but we are forced to spend nearly the entire film with him. Likewise, despite Chen Xiuhuan’s bright screen presence, there is not much personality to Susie.

Regardless, Tan deserves credit for scoring some laughs while simultaneously taking care of the zombie business. The ratio of characters killed or turned to zombies versus healthy survivors must be comparable to that of The Walking Dead or the original Night of the Living Dead. Despite Tan Kayu’s jerkweediness, we would re-enlist for a sequel. Recommended for zombie fans, Zombiepura screens this Saturday (7/13) as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: A First Farewell

Sadly, China’s Uyghur population are probably second only to the Falun Dafa when it comes to being demonized by the Party’s propaganda apparatus. The ethnic group, largely based in the Northwest Xinjiang region happen to be Muslim, so they are practically synonymous with terrorism in the state media. Of course, most Uyghurs just want to raise their families and get by. Unfortunately for Isa and his friends, the escalating Mandarin language requirements will make their lives difficult in Wang Lina’s A First Farewell, which screens today at the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Since his father and brother Musa must work tending the goats, Isa is forced to look after his ailing mother, who has been on a steep decline after contracting meningitis. Alas, he does not have much time to be a kid. Yet, he has picture book-worthy friends in Kalbinur and her little brother, Alinaz. Of the trio, Isa is probably the most proficient at Mandarin, but certainly not to an extent that will impress his stern teachers.

Needless to say, Isa has little time to study, but his father intends to rectify that. After a long period of agonizing, he has finally resolved to place his wife in a nursing home. However, both Isa and Musa bitterly resent the plan. The wider community does not cotton much to it either, but they do not shoulder the burden of her constant care.

First Farewell is an enormously empathetic portrait of a community under multiple stresses. Farewells are a constant fact of life for them, because of the region’s stagnant economy. Yet, despite announcing the theme in her title, Wang never belabors the point. In fact, she displays a rather light touch when it comes to addressing her themes. Nevertheless, when Kalbinur’s mother tells her life is about learning to say goodbye, it rings with significance.

Isa Yasan is terrific as his namesake, almost resembling a Uyghur version of the kid in The Bicycle Thieves. He is wonderfully natural responding to Kalbinur Rahmati and Alinaz Rahmati as their namesakes. Yet, the complicated and touching rapport he develops with Musa Yasan (playing Brother Musa) leaves the deepest impression.

First Farewell is a beautiful film to look at, thanks to Li Yong’s striking cinematography, which perfectly captures the beauty and loneliness of the Xinjiang landscape. Still, the film is sometimes too quiet for its own good. First Farewell is livelier and more engaging than many a slow-cinema docu-hybrid, but it is cut from similar aesthetic cloth. Recommended for those who appreciate well-crafted but deliberately-paced coming of age tales, A First Farewell screens tonight (7/11), as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: Odd Family Zombie On-Sale

We have long argued South Korea cinema has a well-earned competitive advantage when it comes to creepy serial killer thrillers, but whoever expected them to basically take a surprise corner on the crowded zombie market? Of course, it started with the instant classic Train to Busan and its animated prequel, Seoul Station, and continued with the zombie historical, Rampant. Screenwriter-director Lee Min-jae now stakes a claim to zombie comedy territory with the bizarre ruckus that is Odd Family: Zombie On-Sale, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Apparently, the young man shambling towards town is one of the college students who was experimented on by a scandal-ridden Pharma company. Initially, he does not make much of a stir, because he is a weirdly polite zombie. In contrast, Man-Deok’s family are pretty rude and obnoxious. Ostensibly, they run a rural service station, but most of their repair clients find their way there through the family’s underhanded tricks. The eldest son Joon-gul does the dirty work and his wife Nam-joo handles the collections. The middle son Min-gul left to work in Seoul, but he has just returned home after getting sacked. The youngest sibling, Hae-gul broods disgustedly, like any teenager embarrassed by her family.

For some reason, Hae-gul seems to have a rapport with the formerly handsome young zombie when he shuffles into town. He really is well behaved, preferring to chop on cabbage instead of human brains. However, when he bites down on bitter old Man-Deok’s scalp, suddenly he gets an infusion of youthful vitality. Soon, the town’s codgers start lining up for a fountain-of-youth bite from “Zzong-bie,” as Hae-gul dubs him, for which the family is only too happy to supply for a reasonable fee. Of course, zombies are still zombies, so the town will inevitably be over-run by a zombie apocalypse—and it will all be the fault of Man-Deok’s family.

Odd Family is a gleefully wild and crazy comedy that still respects the conventions of zombie movies. In fact, the third act turns into a pretty darned credible walking dead stand-off. Nevertheless, its in-your-face attitude never flags for a moment. Zombie comedies are usually very hit-or-miss affairs, but this one mostly hits—and when it hits, it hits hard.

It is also almost shocking to see Jung Jae-young, the hard-nosed star of Confession of Murder and Broken playing a hen-pecked goofball like Joon-gul, but he dives in with both feet. Lee Soo-kyung could inspire some Ellen Ripley-like memes with her forceful portrayal as the resourceful Hae-gul (her weapon of choice is the weed-whacker). Kim Nam-gil oozes sleaze as Min-gul, while Jung Ga-ram does a nice job of humanizing Zzong-bie.

Odd Family has one of the cleverest and most satisfying endings of any zombie movie yet produced, but it would be nearly impossible for any future film to rip it off. At one point, Lee Min-jae also seems to tip his hat to Train to Busan, in a subtle manner. Altogether, it is jolly good fun. Very highly recommended for zombie fans, Odd Family: Zombie for Sale screens tomorrow night (7/9) as part of NYAFF ’19 and for those who will be in Montreal, on July 29^th during the 2019 Fantasia Film Festival.

NYAFF ’19: White Snake

Blanca and Verta are like the Clooney Sisters of demon snakes. God help the mister who comes between Verta and her sister—especially if he is a measly mortal—but God help the sister who comes between Blanca and her [hu]man. The ancient Chinese legend that inspired Tsui Hark and numerous Chinese operas gets an animated prequel treatment in Amp Wong & Zhao Ji’s White Snake, which screens today at the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Blanca is a restless snake demon. Perhaps that is why the snake demon queen dispatches her to assassinate the evil Taoist general, who has been rounding up snakes to drain their life force in order to attain powers of immortality for the emperor. The mission is not a success. Blanca barely manages to escape, but when she come to in a village of human snake-hunters, she has temporarily lost her memory.

Ah Xuan is not much of a snake-hunter, but he is a stout-hearted lad, so he and Blanca inevitably fall in love. Unfortunately, their temporary romance will not last. Blanca’s enchanted hairpin and the jealous Verta will bring her back to reality and the cold hard fact humans and demons cannot mix. Of course, Ah is willing to trade in his humanity, but by the time he returns as a minor demon with a puppy dog tale, he will find his old human village trapped in the crossfire of a war between the snake demons and the General’s forces.

Ah also has a talking dog, Dodou, so you know you can’t go too far wrong with White Snake. It also boasts some of the most impressive Chinese animation yet (representing Warner Brothers’ first animated Chines co-production), even eclipsing Big Fish & Begonia. The main characters are definitely attractive and heroic looking, but the grand natural vistas and fantasyscapes are truly awesome. The humor is a bit hit-or-miss, but it is mercifully used sparingly.

Plus, it is weirdly fascinating to parse the meanings behind a film that pitches the Taoism of the Darth Vader-like General versus the Buddhism of the Demon Snakes (besides Blanca and Verta, most of them are pretty creepy). However, the film clearly suggests there is more things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamed of in the Communist Party’s philosophy.

White Snake has some wildly cool martial arts sequences and its animation is consistently top-notch. Unfortunately, it shares the shortcoming of most fantasy films and anime, when the climax largely jettisons the human element in favor of a maelstrom of fire balls and death rays, whirling about in a visual blur. Still, that is a minor complaint that is not unique to White Snake. Highly recommended for fans of animation, wuxia, and fantasy films alike, White Snake screens today (7/7) as part of NYAFF ’19 and for those who will be in Montreal later in the month, it screens on July 27^th during the upcoming Fantasia Film Festival.

NYAFF ’19: Ma

Catholic countries idolize motherhood better than anyone. They are also just as perversely aware of its dark, sinister manifestations. The poverty is spirit-crushing, but it is nothing compared to the malevolent spirit inhabiting the woods in Kenneth Lim Dagatan’s Ma, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

This is the other Ma that makes Octavia Spencer’s psycho killer look relatively benign. As the film opens, Samuel and his younger brother and sister are alarmed by their mother Lina’s blood-spitting ill-health. When she dies, he makes a Faustian bargain with an evil thing found in an uber-archetypal tree in a suspiciously ominous cave to bring her back, but the initial results are not what he had in mind. The entity soon has him escalating from the family cat.

Meanwhile, the mega-pregger Cecile has returned to her childhood village to give birth following the death of her husband (an implied suicide). Back in the day, she was inseparable from her chums Lina and her host, the devout Gelyn. However, something rather nightmarish happened to them in a nearby cave, somewhat estranging the trio for years. Of course, anyone who has seen their horror movies knows there is no better pagan sacrifice than a pregnant woman.

In fact, Ma could well be a perfectly representative Filipino horror movie, combining grim sequences of desperate naturalism with utter gross-out provocations. Ma could possibly have the longest vomiting scene since Team America: World Police, but it is played direly straight. Dagatan and co-screenwriter Dodo Dayao also wear their Catholic sensibilities on their sleeve. What transpires is particularly disturbing, because we know and the characters understand these are acts of evil knowingly committed by the formerly innocent.

Young Kyle Espiritu is pretty darned chilling as Samuel. His performance is essentially a portrait of damnation. Likewise, it is nearly as disturbing to watch the even younger Alessandra Malonzo and Enzo Osorio take similar descents into madness and murder, as his junior siblings. Frankly, the adults have a hard time comparing to the youngsters’ homicidal horror chops.

Ma is a well-made film, but it is definitely a downer that never offers up any genre catharsis. Cinematographer Cesce Lee gives it a rich, golden aura, evoking a vibe of ancient, folkloric evil. However, it does not build to a crescendo comparable to Joko Anwar’s remake of Satan’s Slaves, a film that connoisseurs of Asian horror might find themselves remembering during Ma. Recommended for Filipino horror fans, Ma screens tomorrow (7/7), as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: Dark Figure of Crime

In criminal prosecutions, confessions often are not worth the paper the are scrawled on. That is especially true of the seven murders Kang Tae-oh kind-of sort-of cops to. He will give world weary police detective Kim Hyung-min just enough information to keep him hooked in Kim Tae-gyoon’s Dark Figure of Crime, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Kim first met Kang when they were introduced by one of his narco informants. Shortly thereafter, homicide busted Kang for the murder of his girlfriend, for which he is quickly convicted. A few months later, Kang contacts Kim. Even though he works narcotics, the upper-middle class Kim is willing to throw around a little of his own money for a good lead. In return for prison spending money, Kang offers up seven vague murder confessions, including the one he is already doing time for.

Even though Kim knows he is being played, the details are just too specific for him to ignore. He desperately follows each lead, understanding each failure will damage the credibility of the police and the prosecution during Kang’s appeal. However, he cannot walk away, especially after meeting the still grieving grandmother of Kang’s fourth victim—or so Kim deduces.

Loosely based on a true story, Dark Figure gives the prison-confession thriller a darkly sinister twist. Kang is an evil, irredeemably nasty piece of work, but the cat-and-mouse game he plays with Kim is definitely new and different. Ju Ji-hoon just radiates malevolent bad vibes as Kang, Kim Yoon-seok is the real star of the film, as Det. Kim Hyung-min. It is rather unusual (and somewhat refreshing) to meet a movie copper who is reasonably well-healed (even bourgeoise). In fact, that is why Kim is able to take more professional risks. Regardless, Kim’s performance is terrific, tempering righteous outrage with understated grit and fatalism.

We have said it before and Dark Figure proves it once again: Korean cinema has a dramatic comparative advantage when it comes to serial killer movies. Kim Tae-Gyoon’s style is not particularly flashy, but he has a talent for building suspense out of distinctive characters and situations. Very highly recommended, Dark Figure of Crime screens tomorrow (7/6), as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: Winter After Winter

China suffered terribly during the Japanese occupation. They go out of their way to remind the world of that fact with every other film they officially release. Apparently, the nation prefers to identify itself as a group of pitiful victims rather than as a global superpower. A dysfunctional family serves as the latest example. They will be duly miserable during the waning days of the war in Xing Jian’s Winter After Winter, which screens as a selection of the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Elderly Lao Si will soon turn his grown sons over to the local Japanese commander to [involuntarily] labor in their lumber camp, but he is only incidentally concerned with their fate. Instead, he has arranged a hasty divorce for his eldest impotent son, so one of his two younger brothers can impregnate his now ex-wife, Kun, thereby continuing Lao’s bloodline. Unfortunately, the middle sibling is too disgusted by it all, so he runs off to join the resistance, whereas the dim-witted youngest, simply isn’t up to the task.

Kun rather stoically accepts this unseemly circus, not that anyone is asking her opinion. Her silence speaks volumes. Likewise, Lao Si’s motor-mouth can be cringey to listen to. Frankly, his obsession with blood (well beyond that of the problematic but infinitely more sympathetic characters in Steinbeck’s Burning Bright) approaches outright creepiness. Yet, Xing, previously an accomplished painter, maintains a stately slow pace.

Winter eventually reaches a profoundly ironic payoff, but many viewers will be hard-pressed to see it that way. In fact, Xing maintains such a harshly realistic, matter-of-fact tone, you could almost miss the significant revelations he drops late in the game. This is definitely austere cinema, but the visual artistry of Guo Daming’s striking (mostly) black-and-white cinematography is just as apparent, frame after frame.

As Kun, Yan Bingyan is a haunting presence, thanks to her demoralized and downtrodden body language. However, it is Gao Qiang who really dominates the film as the desperately deceitful Lao Si, debasing himself over small stakes, much like a William H. Macey character in a Coen Brothers film.

Xing’s film has too many bitterly dark plot-points to truly be classified as “slow cinema,” but it is still “slow-ish.” His long takes are impressively composed, but they demand the viewer’s close attention. Interestingly, he also somewhat humanizes the Japanese commander, which definitely distinguishes Winter from the field. Only recommended for hardcore cineastes who will respect its integrity, Winter After Winter screens tomorrow (7/5), during the 2019 NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: The Fatal Raid

Doesn’t it warm your heart to see cooperation between the different Chinas? In this case, police officers from Hong Kong, Macau, and possibly Taiwan (at least she is teased for being a Taiwanese spy) team up to stop a senior HK cop gone rogue. Madam Fong and her team happen to be women, but they are as lethal as vintage Michelle Yeoh. They will clean up their male colleagues’ mess in Jacky Lee’s The Fatal Raid (a.k.a. Special Female Force 2: The Fatal Raid), which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Technically, this is a sequel, but don’t worry about coming in cold. Lee quickly catches the audience up on all the back-story they need to know. Frankly, the subtitles for the screener viewed for this review were not great either, but that hardly matters. Fatal Raid is all about action first and attractive women holding guns second. As such, its language is universal.

Twenty-some years ago, before the handover of Macao and Hong Kong, (which the subtitles refer to as the “regression,” perhaps more accurately than was intended), Tam led a secret HK police operation in Macao that turned into a bloodbath. To avoid embarrassment, the top brass covered up the incident and disavowed all claims for compensation from the deceased officers’ next of kin. The titular raid still haunts Tam, so he decides to take advantage of the new deputy commissioner’s first public appearance in Macao to strike. The ultimate objective is a little murky, but there is no missing the slam-bang chaos that ensues.

 So, action. Lots of it. Honestly, Fatal Raid has the energy and tragic sensibility of John Woo films, circa Hard Boiled, with some “chicks-with-guns” fan service thrown in for extra added meathead appeal. Arguably, Jade Leung and company manage to be both feminist role models and guy-friendly eye-candy, but there are so many bullets whizzing through the air, nobody will have a chance to analyze the film’s gender politics.

Leung is pretty darned steely as Madam Fong. Malaysian pop-star Lin Min-chen is also quite engaging as the strait-laced, fast-tracked Yan Han. Likewise, Hidy Yu, Jeana Ho, and Jadie Lin show off some impressive action chops as their colleagues. The brooding is mostly left to the guys, particularly Patrick Tam, who seethes and agonizes as his guilt-ridden namesake.

This is a massively violent film, but it is also a lot of fun. If you imagine the shootout at the end of Michael Mann’s Heat raised to the power of ten and expanded to fill three twenty-minute windows and you might have a notion of what the film is like. Very highly recommended for action fans, The Fatal Raid screens this Friday (7/5), as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: Walk with Me

They are not likely to throw zombies out of work anytime soon, but evil dolls are still definitely having their evil moment. Even Malaysia is riding the wave. Sam believes the restless spirit of her brother who died in utero has inhabited her childhood doll, to wreak havoc and seek vengeance. The truth might be even worse than she imagines, but the body-count will be just as real in Ryon Lee’s Walk with Me, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Frankly, Sam’s life is terrifying enough without a haunting. She is bullied incessantly at her sweatshop place of employment, where she also must contend with a pervy boss. Things are not much better in the flat she shares with her scoldy mother and drunken wastrel father. Despite a first act exorcism, Sam is convinced the angry ghost of her little brother has possessed her insanely creepy doll. He died before he could be born, due to an accident she caused—at least that is how she remembers it, thanks to her mother’s constant reminders. Things will continue to get worse for Sam, in every way, except for the return of her suddenly fit high school pal, York.

Lee and co-screenwriter Ying-ying Chang drop a huge up-ending twist on viewers at the eleventh hour, so a little tap-dancing is required to avoid spoilers. Frankly, it is questionable whether the film makes complete sense in retrospect and it would be dashed difficult to assemble a scrupulously logical timeline for everything that transpires. However, it is all pretty scary, so you might as well buy in and roll with it.

Michelle Wai’s portrayal of Sam will just break your heart, even when things get a bit extreme. It might be hard to initially accept someone with her actress-model looks could be bullied so roughly, but her acting and the sad frequency that human nature often manifests in jealousy and resentment make it believable. Veteran HK thesps Anna Ng and Richard Ng are also terrific, in a fearlessly naturalistic and unsympathetic kind of way, as Sam’s parents.

Some really effective art direction and location scouting went into Walk, particularly the textile factory, which just looks oppressively evil. Seriously, this film should be quite a persuasive PSA for staying in school and resisting the urge to bully others. Recommended for fans of gritty supernatural horror, Walk with Me screens Thursday (7/4) night, as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: The Fable

Akira Sato was supposed to just mark time in what could be considered the Yakuza equivalent of Witness Protection. An Osaka clan allied with his boss will put him up in an unassuming suburban home. All he has to do is act normal. However, that will be the only part of being a Yakuza hitman that has ever been a struggle for him—especially the inconvenient moratorium on killing people. Trouble will inevitably find its way to his incognito doorstep in Kan Eguchi’s The Fable, which screens as the centerpiece selection of the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

The hitman known to many simply as “The Fable” is the best in the business, because he was trained by the best—his father—as we will see in flashbacks. He will take out a room full of rival Yakuza in the opening action scene like it was nothing, but his boss deems it time for him to lay low for a while afterward. Unfortunately, a couple of young, nihilistic rivals want to make their name by killing The Fable, so they will follow his trail to Osaka.

Frankly, Yoko, Sato’s femme fatale assistant might have a harder time enduring Osaka’s quiet respectability. As a natural stoic, Sato can work menial delivery job without complaints. He just might even develop a human relationship with his Misaki, a cute and naïve co-worker. However, he just can’t help acting weird, due to his lack of socialization. Regardless, his foray into normalcy will be short-lived when his host requests his help to quell a territorial power struggle.

Based on Katsuhisa Minami’s manga, The Fable combines goofball humor with wild over-the-top action set pieces (performed by the Jackie Chan Stunt Team). In terms of tone, it hits roughly the same notes as Takashi Miike’s Mole Song movies, but Eguchi and screenwriter Yusuke Watanabe often use crass cheeseball humor to satirize the crassness and cheesiness of Japanese mass media.

Jun’ichi Okada is quite the game stone-faced straight man as The Fable. Yuya Yagira is flamboyantly villainous as Kojima, a recent parolee making all kinds of trouble as the wild card in the brewing Yakuza civil war. Mizuki Yamamoto is certainly endearing as the innocent Misaki, but Fumino Kimura steals scene after scene as the elegant but dangerous Yoko (remember Marian Crane’s drinking contest at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark? That’s her idea of a good way to kill time).

The Fable is not exactly high art, even among big screen manga adaptations, but it certainly zips along. It is sort of like My Blue Heaven with a higher body count and arguably a bigger heart. Despite his social awkwardness, Sato is one of the more appealing movie assassins of recent vintage. Recommended for fans of wild Yakuza films, The Fable screens tomorrow (7/2), as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: Dare to Stop Us

Generally speaking, if you want to understand a nation’s collective angst, you check out its monster movies. In Japan, that arguably extended to their naughty Pinku Eiga films. Several prominent directors initially cut their teeth in Japan’s blue movie trade, but none was as notorious as Koji Wakamatsu. The auteur and his circle of collaborators and barely paid employees get a relatively evenhanded treatment in Kazuya Shiraishi’s Dare to Stop Us, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Wakamatsu was a former real deal yakuza, who became a close ally of the United Red Amy terrorist group, whose exploits he later chronicled in the surprisingly unflattering United Red Army. He was also an arrogant blowhard and a terrible boss. Yet, he could inspire loyalty in his crew and admirers, especially long-suffering assistant director, Megumi Yoshizumi.

Yoshizumi will become the tragic heroine of Wakamatsu’s world and Shiraishi’s film, learning to tune out the sex scenes and sexism with the help of booze. Rather than Wakamatsu, the most sympathetic male figure is Masao Adachi, his frequent screenwriter collaborator and an auteurist filmmaker in his own right. Adachi is the only character in Wakamatsu’s orbit who can stand up to him. Yoshizumi also carries a torch for him, despite his being at least a generation older.

One thing is pretty clear throughout Dare. Militant leftists are absolutely miserable people. Seriously folks, start buying into bourgeoisie consumerist values. You’ll be so much happier for it. The film certainly is not a puff piece for Wakamatsu either. Frankly, many viewers coming in without baggage will start to suspect his dirty movies are really just dirty movies. However, Shiraishi and screenwriter Jun’ichi Inoue ultimately humanize him and argue for forgiveness of his excesses.

Regardless, Mugi Kadowaki is rigorously reserved yet strikingly vulnerable as Yoshizumi. It might just be one of the great feminist performances of our postmodern era, but it is unlikely to be recognized as such, since the chauvinism she endures comes from the left (hmm, would the Wakamatsu studio be considered a hostile work environment by today’s standards?). In contrast, as Wakamatsu, Arata Iura is tempestuous and larger than life in big-screen-friendly ways, while Hiroshi Yamamoto anchors the film as the self-effacing Adachi.

Dare is a colorful period production, to put it mildly. However, the Pinku Eiga production scenes are played more for their value as eccentric spectacle rather than for prurient interest. Plus, the soundtrack is pretty groovy. Recommended for both Wakamatsu’s fans and detractors, Dare to Stop Us screens this Thursday (the Fourth of July, an irony that would amuse Wakamatsu) as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: The Gun

The more you work with firearms, the more you come to regard them as a simple tool. Alas, Toru Nishikawa’s society does not afford him that opportunity, so when he chances across a Magnum at a riverside crime scene, he is compelled to pocket it—and quickly becomes obsessed with its dangerous power. Plenty of blame will be placed on the inanimate object in Masaharu Take’s The Gun, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

There was a dead body and a gun lying next to it, but Nishikawa is compelled to swipe the latter before the cops arrive. As soon as he gets home, he starts fantasizing about how he might use it. The abusive mother living in the next-door apartment immediately presents herself as an appropriate prospective victim. However, Nishikawa intends to take his time, so he can savor the idea and the anticipation. He will even start a semi-serious relationship with an attractive fellow undergrad, Yuki Yoshikawa, who has recently resumed her studies.

The Gun somewhat follows in the vein of the “Blue Scorpion” episode of the new Twilight Zone reboot series, in that both literally demonize hand guns. At least Take and co-screenwriter Hideki Shishido are more subtle in how they go about it. They also take things in a very existential, Dostoevskian direction. You would almost expect to find Nishikawa huddled in a Moscow garret.

Unfortunately, the film basically runs out of steam during the third act, allowing a lot of good film noir business to go to waste. It is especially frustrating to see the great Lily Frankly only really have one extended scene as the cop giving Nishikawa the Columbo treatment. More of their cat-and-mouse and less of Nishikawa’s self-destructive angst would have made Gun a stronger film.

Nevertheless, Nijiro Murakami is viscerally intense and unsettlingly sociopathic as Nishikawa. He is all kinds of creepy and clammy. Franky is perfectly cast as the world-weary, smarter-than-he-looks flatfoot, while Alice Hirose is terrific as the warm but insecure Yoshikawa.

As in previous films, such as 100 Yen Love, Take dives into the grubby, marginalized milieu. Hiromitsu Nishimura’s stark black-and-white cinematography quite effectively reflects Nishikawa’s darkly agitated state of mind, in a way reminiscent of Aronofsky’s Pi. Yet, somehow, he dispenses with too many subplots in a perfunctory, on-the-nose manner, like the scene involving the biological father Nishikawa has not met up until the second act.

Altogether, The Gun is a hugely frustrating film for hardboiled thriller fans, but it is safe to say Franky will leave them wanting more. Recommended for those who value noir visual stylings over substance, The Gun screens this Sunday (6/30) as part of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: Hard-Core

Somehow, Ukon Gondo managed to fall in with a small group of Japanese leftist nationalists. They combine the fervor of Imperialist WWII denial with leftwing contempt for commerce and capitalism. Wisely, society shuns them, especially women. However, Gondo will find camaraderie with the unlikeliest brothers in Nobuhiro Yamashita’s Hard-Core, which screens during the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Gondo has anger management issues that often require his contemptuous junior executive brother Sakon to bail him out of scrapes. His only work is a weekly gig digging for the presumably mythical lost gold of an ancient shogun in an abandoned mine, under the supervision of Kaneshiro, the doddering nutter “Chairman” of his small but extreme political party. Gondo’s closest companion is the hulking but slow-witted Ushiyama, whom he takes a protective interest in.

Then one day they stumble across an Iron Giant-like robot that they dub “Robo-o.” He looks retro on the outside, but he has a blazing fast processor on the inside. They essentially treat him like a friend and fellow party-member, until Sakon activates his communication interfaces. He also has the notion to exploit Robo-o’s gold detection capabilities. There might actually be gold in that darn hill, but Gondo is more interested in Taeko Mizunuma, the nympho-divorcee daughter of Kaneshiro’s lieutenant and dig foreman.

Hard-Core is an awkward shaggy dog of a film, but it is compellingly earnest and refreshingly averse to cliché and sentimentality. Like Gondo, Yamashita clearly scorns cutesiness, but he connects with his characters on a very humanistic level. The science fiction elements are definitely on the light side, but they are still there, albeit rendered with defiantly low-fi grubbiness. Regardless, the film is probably best classified as an urban fable.

Takayuki Yamada does not say much, but he expresses quite a bit through glares and the black smoke that nearly wafts out of his ears. Takeru Satoh hits the right ambiguous notes as the hard-to-pin-down, but undeniably disdainful Sakon, while Yoshiyoshi Arakwa projects Ushiyama’s sensitive soul, without resorting to distasteful shtick or caricatures.

Based on Carib Marley well-regarded manga series, Hard-Core is sort of like Joel Shumacher’s Falling Down, crossed with The Iron Giant. There is plenty of commentary regarding the economic and social squeeze faced by working-class men without advanced degrees. Yet, what really makes the film work is the friendships that develop between the three outcasts. Recommended surprisingly highly, Hard-Core screens this Saturday (6/29), as part of NYAFF ’19.

NYAFF ’19: Samurai Marathon

Annaka is the Japanese analog for Marathon, Greece. It was there that modern Japanese marathon running originated. It was also the end of an era. Commodore Perry and his “Black Ships” ushered out the Edo Period and helped launch the Meiji Restoration, but the samurai and retainers of the Annaka Clan give the Bushido code a last hurrah in Bernard Rose’s Samurai Marathon, which screens as the opening night film of the 2019 New York Asian Film Festival.

Of course, Perry is a bit flamboyant and cocksure—he is played by Rose’s frequent collaborator, Danny Huston. Frankly, he probably could have been worse, considering the ace in the hole he carried with him: firearms. The Shogun’s representative certainly sat up and took notice. Suddenly, Edo is more receptive to Western ways, but not a traditionalist like Katsuakira Itakura, the Annaka clan leader. To re-instill discipline within the ranks, he decrees all clan samurai and foot soldiers must participate in a cross-country foot-race throughout the surrounding lands.

As a samurai in the accounting division, Jinnai Karasawa must also participate, but he is in better shape than his Clark Kent persona suggests. He is actually a ninja secretly spying on the Annaka Clan for the shogunate, just as his forerunners had done before him. Unfortunately, he misinterprets the marathon as a cover for rebellion, but he is unable to retract his coded message to Edo once he realizes his error. When the Shogun’s forces arrive to wipe out the exhausted Annaka samurai at the finish line, Karasawa will have to make some hard choices.

So, basically, a Jidaigeki hack-and-slash battle (it’s a good one) breaks out during a track meet. Arguably, Marathon is maybe only 10% a sports film, if that. Instead, it specializes in intrigue and warfare. There is also a Shakespearean subplot involving Itakura’s independent minded daughter, Princess Yuki, who disguises herself as a man to sneak past the check point, so she can study Western art in Edo. However, her masquerade is easily seen through by characters who are evidently much more observant than anyone in Twelfth Night.

As a filmmaker, Rose has been all over the map from prestige projects like Immortal Beloved and Anna Karenina (1997) to trashy genre films like sxtape and the immortally beloved Candyman. You never really know what you might get from him, but happily, this is a return to form that definitely ranks with his prestige picture peaks. The is a big canvas historical, with a large cast of characters and a sweeping Philip Glass score, for extra high-brow status. More importantly, it is also a lot of fun, thanks to the brisk action and sly skullduggery.

Takeru Satoh (Kenshin Himura in the Rurouni Kenshin franchise) is perfectly cast as the aloof and conflicted Karasawa. Nana Komatsu finds a credible middle ground as the Princess, portraying her as neither a push-over distressed damsel or an invincible Michelle Yeoh-style swordswoman, but a gutsy forward-thinker. At times, Naoto Takenaka plays not-so retired retainer Mataemon Kurita a bit overly broad, but several supporting players really throw down with authority as various surprise turncoats within the Annaka ranks.

If you can’t a enjoy a film like Samurai Marathon, you’re probably a real killjoy. Yet, it is also classy, respectable cinema. You can tell, because it was produced by Jeremy Thomas (whose producer credits include The Last Emperor, Little Buddha, and Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence). Enthusiastically recommended, Samurai Marathon screens Friday (6/28), as the opening night film of this year’s NYAFF.

NYAFF ’19: Jinpa

Many contemporary mysteries cover forensic matters in graphic detail, but hardly any address the spiritual repercussions of murder. However, in Tibetan, karma trumps more mundane worldly concerns. One murder definitely begets bad karma and perhaps another murder to come in Pema Tseden’s Jinpa, which screens during the 219 New York Asian Film Festival.

Meet Jinpa the Tibetan truck driver, who is played by Jinpa, the uni-named Tibetan actor and poet, who gives a lift to a hitchhiker also named Jinpa. Before stopping to pick up the standoffish younger man, Jinpa somehow ran over a sheep, which was odd, considering the desolate openness of that stretch of highway. As a devout Buddhist, the incident clearly shakes Jinpa (the driver). Ye, he initially takes it in stride when the younger Jinpa matter-of-factly tells him he has tracked down his father’s killer to a village on the hardscrabble Kekexili Plateau, so he now intends to murder him in turn.

After seeking prayers and religious guidance for the sheep at the nearest monastery, the older Jinpa retraces his steps, hoping to find the younger Jinpa, but his purposes are not clear. Does he want to prevent the other Jinpa from irreparably damaging his karma, or does he have darker motives? All will not be illuminated through a series of visually striking flashbacks (Tseden’s technique of sharply focusing on the Jinpa in the foreground, while blurring the characters in the background could become widely imitated). Who knows, maybe the Jinpas are the same person?

Tseden is a major world-caliber auteur, well-and-beyond his importance as an independent Tibetan voice and chronicler of everyday Tibetan life. Jinpa the film is a heavy statement, but at times, it is either too obvious or too murky. There is no question Ritu Sarin & Tenzing Sonam’s The Sweet Requiem functions more successfully as a Tibetan revenge thriller, but the visuals crafted by Tseden and cinematographer Lu Songye still demand your attention.

Jinpa (the thesp) is terrific as Jinpa (the elder), creating a persona that is both compellingly devout and world-weary. As Jinpa the Younger, Genden Phuntsok has a screen presence worthy of spaghetti westerns. Yet, Sonam Wangmo steals all her scenes, like you’ve never seen before, as the snarky, but weirdly hospitable innkeeper. Honestly, she could be a star in any country.

Jinpa is an intriguing film, but its meditative merits could also be uncharitably described as “slow cinema.” Frankly, this is the sort of film NYAFF programmers used to mock back in the day, but it is an important work of cinema, so the festival deserves credit for being the first to bring it to New York. Recommended for those who want to be temporarily immersed in the Tibetan landscape and head-space, Jinpa screens this Saturday (6/29), as part of NYFF ’19.