Reviews

While lacking in plot and character development--generally what most people look for in a film--Miss Hokusai is a lovely and wistful look into life in Edo, which was Tokyo before the Meiji Restoration of 1867. The film centers on the painter Hokusai, whose Great Wave off Kanagawa is probably the most well-known Japanese artwork, and his real-life daughter O-Ei, of whom little factual data remains. They live together in a squalid flat and are completely devoted to producing art, while Hokusai's wife and blind younger daughter live elsewhere. The film unfolds as a series of vignettes featuring well-known works by the artist, some of which the film posits may have been painted by his daughter. There is a visit to a brothel in Yoshiwara to see a geisha who has out-of-body experiences at night, dealing with a haunting caused by one of O-Ei's paintings, a ride on a boat where the great wave is reenacted, and various other scenes. Two subplots round out the film, one involving O-Ei's unrequited love for her father's disciple, and the other the younger daughter's worsening health and eventual death. The short film is capped with O-Ei telling how her life played out after the events and a text crawl at the end relating her own death. With the exception of the younger daughter's death no single plot line in the film is fully played out, which leaves something of a sour taste in the mouth. But the film is nonetheless enjoyable for its visual beauty and the window it grants into life in Edo. The scene where O-Ei follows the alarm to a fire was especially fascinating, the firefighting companies holding their standards, getting doused with water and tearing down the surrounding structure to prevent the fire from spreading. The character designs are somewhat simplistic, maybe even a bit crude, but they're deftly animated and with the exquisite backgrounds the team at Production I.G. have created another masterpiece visually. Worth watching, and if you're intrigued plan a visit to the Edo Tokyo museum in Tokyo for a more in-depth look at life in this fascinating time.

Decided to see this at the LA Film Fest for a chance at seeing John Hawkes in action. I was not familiar with writer/director Dennis Hauck but will keep an eye out for him in the future--I think he shows a lot of promise.

"Too Late" is an ambitious contemporary film noir in five non-sequential acts, each of which is shot in a single take. As far as directorial "tricks" go this is one of my favorites, and Haucks executes it very well, without sacrificing movement or dynamism in the scenes. One unexpected result is that you are aware of the camera more than in most films, especially where the varied lighting, extremely long zooms and tough focal situations really make you feel the mechanical limitations of the camera and 35mm film. Whether this is intentional or not it's a nice nod to what is becoming a dying format.

The plot itself is fairly well represented in the genre: a beautiful woman (self-referenced as a "stripper with a heart of gold") calls for help from a private eye (Hawkes) and is subsequently murdered. This film spares us the investigative aspect of the ensuing drama and instead focuses on the emotional response of the characters. The following acts show us the aftermath, fill out the backstory, and finally provide some closure by revealing a plot twist that, while not entirely unpredictable, reframes the entire film in a very fresh and interesting way. Kudos to Haucks for the excellent ending, which is a trick that many miss but goes a long way towards creating a positive feeling about the film.

The acting is generally excellent, led by Hawkes who fill the grizzled gumshoe role admirably. He's a very self-effacing actor who follows the "less is more" philosophy, and delivers his character convincingly even when it's clear the dialogue is getting a bit carried away. Also notable is Dichen Lachman, who has continued to up her game and is becoming an actor worth following.

If I have any complaint about the film it's that Haucks seems to be emulating Tarantino a bit too closely, especially in the writing department. I think it's a fine idea to do a Pulp Fiction-style take on the noir genre, but I could do with less of the long-winded, dense, occasionally incomprehensible dialogue that's packed with more external references than a Joyce novel. A few too many eye-roll-inducing lines take a bit of the shine of what is an otherwise very enjoyable film, but it is well worth seeing nonetheless.

So I think this movie is much better than it's being given credit for. As an SF film, the Wachowskis have done a nice job of crafting an interesting and intelligible world, and the narrative structure is solid if far from original. The major flaw is that none of the main characters are interesting--badly cast, badly written or badly directed, I don't know which-- but it deflates what would otherwise be a genuinely enjoyable movie. I still think it's worth watching, and one of the few films out right now that benefits from being seen in a theatre rather than at home.

**Spoilers Below**

To start out, for all that it lacks originality, I think the narrative in Jupiter Ascending is actually fairly well crafted. What you have is a basic journey motif, in which Jupiter visits each of the three children of her previous incarnation before returning home. Each of the children has their own agenda and plans for Jupiter, and in the process of dealing with each she learns about her former self, the universe she inhabits and the circumstances surrounding her predecessor's death. The Wachowskis reveal the details of this universe gradually so that we learn about it along with Jupiter, and share her process of growth and discovery.

Unfortunately, this ideal is complicated by Jupiter herself, who not only fails to grow through the film but seems to lack any real defining characteristics. This is undoubtedly attributable to the film's plot, which denies Jupiter almost any agency in the journey she is undergoing. Rather, she is repeatedly kidnapped by agents of one sibling or another, and later saved by her pursuer-turned-bodyguard-turned-lover Caine and/or his friends in the intergalactic police force Aegis. The few times she actually makes a choice on her own she is either being duped or giving in to threats from some other party. Casting Jupiter as a damsel in distress rather than someone who takes charge of her own destiny is a huge missed opportunity, and in my opinion the movie really fails for so many

Compounding this failing is the casting of the main characters. Both Mila Kunis and Channing Tatum are easy on the eyes, but neither has any real gravitas, or even a persona to bring with them to their role, and neither makes much of an effort to develop one within the film. Their performances can be most kindly described as "inoffensive"--but that certainly isn't enough to make the audience care about them. Even the inevitable love connection that develops between them feels false, tacked-on and forced. We don't see Jupiter fall in love with Caine--she has to tell us, and his confused reaction is not nearly so bad as our own.

The reason I think so many people have given this film the cold shoulder isn't that it's unoriginal. Compared with last summer's blockbuster Guardians of the Galaxy, that film was less original. But it had the smirking, winking camp that makes audiences think they're in on some kind of joke (as they give more money to the Disney/Marvel insipidity complex). Jupiter Ascending does not--it's presented seriously, without camp, and no smirks whatsoever. I don't think it takes itself too seriously, but it doesn't try to make any jokes at its own expense either, and I don't think audiences in this time are open to a serious SF film of this kind.

On a final note, in comparing this film with the Wachowskis most famous and original effort, The Matrix, I think there are more parallels than people are currently crediting them with. First, Jupiter Ascending is not really a rags-to-riches story. Sure, Jupiter goes from a cleaning woman who tries to sell her eggs so her cousin can buy a flatscreen TV to the owner of much of the known universe, but it is the power than goes with that role--not the wealth--that is important. In gaining the power to save the Earth from harvesting, Jupiter is The One in the same way Neo was in The Matrix. Second, one of the underlying themes in both films is the danger of commodifying human life. In The Matrix, humans become batteries to power the machines that control them; in Jupiter Ascending, they become the serum that allows the galactic aristocracy to achieve immortality. What's interesting is how this message has been influenced by the ~15 years between the films: in a post-Occupy world obsessed with income inequality, the threat comes not from a robot overlord but an uncaring, self-obsessed "entitled" class that exploits other humans for its own gain. In this sense Jupiter Ascending may have more in common with last year's train wreck Elysium, but is a much, much better effort.

I have to admit that, after the first film in this new 'Rebuild of Evangelion' cycle, I had extremely low expectations for the second film. 1.11 was such a carbon copy of the 1995 series that I was convinced that Anno and the crew at Gainax were content to simply cash in on remaining fan fervor and release a mildly rehashed version of that admittedly brilliant storyline.

The first 10 minutes of 2.22 utterly destroyed this preconception and left me breathless in my seat. This is one of the most fantastic opening sequences I've seen in film and sets the stage for a thrilling experience. 'You Can (Not) Advance' opens with the introduction of a new character, a new EVA, a new Angel, and a new scenario, and proceeds to evolve the storyline in a completely unpredictable fashion.

People who think they 'know' Eva are going to be knocked on their asses by this film. Nearly everything has been upgraded for the better: from the stunning visuals to the revamped plot line to the compelling musical score (Shiroh Sagisu at the absolute pinnacle of his game). It's breathless and fast-paced and a very compelling movie experience.

Which brings me to my one big gripe about the film: it may be a little TOO entertaining. The original TV series was filled with tortuous self-doubt and self-loathing, an introspective psychoanalytical and quasi-religious experience set to the background of giant robot combat for human survival. The new films streamline this so much (seemingly for the sake of watch-ability) that they lose a key part of what really made the series so engrossing, at least for longtime fans like myself.

To give one big example: Shinji's ambiguous relationship with the 3 women in his life (Misato, Asuka and Rei) is a huge aspect of the original series. He is continuously torn apart by his mix of adolescent sexual desire, desire for friendship, and desire for a mother-figure with regards to each of them. This is an underlying current throughout the series and becomes a real driving force in the original theatrical climax ('Air' and 'My Pure Heart for You'). In the 'Rebuild' storyline, this is re-imagined as a much simpler developing romance between Shinji and Rei, with Asuka's one-sided affections filling out a rudimentary triangle (her character in the new film is such a 180 that it's difficult to accept). While much easier to understand and certainly less angst-ridden, I do find this resort to a familiar trope to be a bit of a disappointment, especially when compared with the original storyline.

In spite of these minor quibbles, this is a film that really must be seen by anyone who has even a passing interest in Japanese animation or film in general, and if possible you should try and catch it during its US theatrical run in January. Just don't take this as the 'definitive' Eva.

So here's a little personal background: I played Benkei in a somewhat modernized version of Kanjinchou, the kabuki play that this film is based on. Using a DVD recording of a 1943 performance, the cast spent a month of rehearsal copying in excruciating detail every motion and intonation of the kabuki actors (we spent the next month taking it apart and rebuilding it). So watching this film was, for me, a really interesting experience.

First off, this film is very faithful to the kabuki. Its overall structure varies in some ways, but the story arc unfolds very similarly and many of the lines are taken directly from the original. I was really pleased that so much was kept in. While there have been many successful adaptations of kabuki to film in the past (Chushingura, Yotsuya Kaidan etc.), Kanjinchou doesn't really lend itself to this. The story is laughably brief, there's almost no action, and the play as a whole is really designed as a chance for the actor playing Benkei to strut his stuff.

Other kabuki adaptations generally take just the story, but in this case Kurosawa has incorporated several aspects of kabuki performance in interesting ways. Using the 'nagauta' background singing to tell parts of the story is one, another the drum beats that come up occasionally. It might have been nice if these elements were applied more rigorously, but they're appreciated where they are put in.

As others have noted, there's no real fighting or most of the things that people expect from samurai films. The interest stems from the tension in the relations between the three main characters: Benkei, the tower of strength and sworn to protect the noble and effete Yoshitsune (yes, there's some romance implied) squaring off against Togashi, learned and embodying samurai virtue. Kurosawa sparingly uses cinematographic techniques to heighten this drama in some scenes.

Where Kurosawa makes changes is primarily increasing the role of ancillary characters in the film. I felt like this was a little unfortunate as it lessens the gravity of the relationship between Togashi and Benkei, whose clash of wits is at the heart of the play. The addition of the porter character is well considered where he seems to play the audience. However in other scenes he takes over Benkei's more seemingly silly acts (like the dance), which I think detracted from the dimensionality of that character: compared to the kabuki, the film's Benkei is almost depressingly unemotional.

Overall the film probably will be disappointing to those wishing to see another 'Seven Samurai' or 'Yojimbo.' This is a very different sort of film, and I think probably takes some background reading to really appreciate. As a final note, I think it's misleading to try to read the film as WWII allegory. While the timing of its creation begs this sort of inquiry, this is a fairly straight adaptation of the original. That it was banned by the GHQ shouldn't be surprising: nearly everything set in the feudal period was seen to embody some sort of imperialistic values and was suppressed.