MilesPieri Reviews

Solomon Kane (2009)

Witchfinder General: The Middle-Earth Years

[7/10 · 16 May 2009]

Minor Spoiler Alert!

If Peter Jackson deemed it a good idea to remake Michael Reeves classic WITCHFINDER GENERAL, the result might look an awful lot like SOLOMON KANE. Based on Robert E Howard's 17th Century Puritan pulp fiction character, SOLOMON KANE begins in media res, with Solomon and his ill-fated ship crew coming face-to-face with the grim reaper. This particular reaper, unfortunately, is in the employ of Satan himself and damns Kane's soul for a life of wickedness, greed and throwing knives into peoples faces in a really cool way. A year later Kane, now living in an English monastery, is kicked out when the head monk senses our hero will only bring trouble for the 16th Century peaceniks. On the road Kane hooks up with Pete Postlethwaite and his brood, a family of puritans headed for the coast and a persecutionless life in the New Worlde. Needless to say, the family have 'victims' written all over them in huge, medieval script, and things don't go well. Thematically, the story borrows elements from the Howard story RED SHADOWS, but it's really its own beast. Which is a shame, in a way, because the author knew how to weave a damn good tale and SOLOMON KANE's script is certainly the weakest thing about it. We're never really sure why Kane's soul is damned, or how that's connected with the evil magician who has taken over his father's (Max Von Sydow) castle. Oh yes, Kane is also a member of the aristocracy, banished from the land by his dad in true Joseph Campbell fashion. Director Michael J Bassett also seems just a little TOO fond of a certain fantasy trilogy. A horseback chase sequence, while exciting, was even more impressive first time around in FELLOWSHIP OF THE RING, while the final assault on Kane's ancestral castle involves a battle in torrential rain, part Helm's Deep, part SEVEN SAMURAI. Most egregious of all is the final showdown between Solomon Kane and, really this is giving nothing away, Old Nick himself. Considering how creative much of the makeup and design work is in the film, and it really is quite striking, it comes as something of a shock to see a certain fire demon turn up for the finale. "You shall not pass!" indeed. And yet....there's so much to like about SOLOMON KANE. As mentioned above, the design work is outstanding. This is a grimy, gritty middle ages that has rarely been seen outside the early work of Terry's Jones and Gilliam. The snowy, grey landscapes of England's West Country (actually Prague, for the most part) are frequently breathtaking. The action scenes are satisfyingly low tech, with seemingly little CGI but plenty of decapitations and arterial sprays. It's a shame they weren't put in the service of a better story, but when the action scenes kick in you're unlikely to be overly concerned. The films biggest asset, however,is its lead actor. It's a little disconcerting watching James Purefoy in this role when you know that he left the production of V FOR VENDETTA having already filmed some scenes as the eponymous character. In some of the many shots where he's silhouetted against the ubiquitous grey and rain-streaked Somerset sky, all flowing cape and stovepipe hat, he's uncannily similar to Alan Moore's anarchist anti-hero. He also shares a similar penchant for dispatching England's enemies with the throw of dagger to the neck. Purefoy plays Kane as if he's in a state of persistent physical agony, which is quite fitting. He's really rather magnificent in the role and brings Hugh Jackman levels of charisma to the part. No small feat considering Kane is the sort of chap who makes Matthew Hopkins look like a member of the ACLU. Purefoy's Solomon Kane may also be the first swashbuckling, sword wielding hero with a British West Country accent since Nigel Terry's King Arthur in Excalibur. Purefoy is the main reason that, at the end of the film, with the suggestion of more adventures to come, you hope SOLOMON KANE will do decent enough box office to warrant a franchise. This first outing is far from perfect, but there's considerable potential and the distinct promise of better to come.

The Return (2003)

A beautiful, disturbing modern Russian classic.

[9/10 · 30 April 2005]

Former commercials director Andrei Zvyagintsev's stunning film debut is the ideal antidote to all those twee American coming-of-age flicks. This beautiful and sometimes harrowing tale of two young boys on a road trip with a father who 'dissapeared' twelve years before has a surface simplicity that belies it's deeply complex heart. Or, perhaps it's the other way around? There are shades of 'Martin Guerre' to the story but the director, and his co-screenwriter Vladimir Moiseyenko, have created something quite fresh and unique. A quiet and contemplative journey that ends as enigmatically as it begins. The, unnamed, father (Konstantin Lavronenko) returns after more than a decade to the Russian village where the two boys and their mother ,Natalya Vdovina, (it's never clear whether the couple were ever married) reside. He takes his children on a journey, ostensibly a fishing trip, which appears fraught with minor mishaps – the car, and later a boat, break down, the fathers wallet is stolen from the boys etc. It's never clear to what degree the father is manipulating these events, or indeed what exactly his motives are. Does he genuinely care about his sons and want to spend the weekend attempting to 'bond' with them? Or is his desire to reach a remote island connected with the abandoned ruins of a house there? Whatever his motivation, dad has a unique line in 'tough love', which tends to manifest itself in a bloody nose or the threat of decapitation with an axe. The two boys, brought up by mother and granny aren't overly eager to be on the receiving end of their 'new' fathers affections, although the older of the two (Vladimir Garin, who tragically died in a drowning accident a fortnight after filming completed) seems to desperately want to believe that his father cares for him. They're suspicious, too, of where he's been for most of their lives yet they're cautious enough to keep their curiosity between themselves. It's not giving anything away to say that, from the outset, you're aware there's not going to be a happy ending to all this. What really impresses about The Return, aside from the beautiful, washed out cinematography and the pitch-perfect performances (the two, non-professional, boys are astoundingly good) is Zvyagintsev's awareness that there is no need to spoon feed all the 'facts' to his audience. The 'why's and the 'where's' are something we can decide for ourselves, as individuals. Zvyagintsev presents us with the bare facts of his tale and leaves the interpretation up to us. There's more to it than this, of course. For all its concentration on the minutiae of this week-long journey the film is absolutely riveting and ravishing to look at. Zvyagintsev leaves it to the viewer to decide whether what they've just seen is a deceptively simple tale or an overwhelmingly complex one. Whichever, it could well be a minor masterpiece.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (2005)

Mostly humourless

[4/10 · 29 April 2005]

The road to a cinematic Hitch-Hikers has been well documented as long and tortuous. What began as a BBC radio show way back in 1978 has seen incarnations as a series of novels, a TV show, interactive fiction and several stage versions. A film has been on the cards for at least two decades and now, at last, we have what Hitch-Hikers creator Douglas Adams always hoped would be the ultimate imagining of his SF-comedy. Let's get right to the point here, this movie is going to be a huge disappointment to the "trilogy's" many fans. The casual film-goer is unlikely to be too impressed either. It seems incredible that something that has languished in turnaround so long has come out so half-baked and semi-formed. Maybe the length of time it's taken to get this show on the road is much of the problem, though. Disney clearly spent a fair amount on this production (although the SFX are variable) and they've really tried to appeal to the lowest common denominator. The problem is it's all too rushed and confusing for the uninitiated yet severely lacking in true Hitch-Hikers spirit for aficionados. Bizarrely many of Adams best lines and jokes are left in - but without the punchlines. A good example is the, hugely truncated, opening where earthman Arthur Dent's house is to be demolished. Adams, of course, had this scene mirror the bigger picture of the bureaucracy-obsessed Vogon destruction of the Earth. Here this doesn't play out at all and the whole sequence falls flat. Another example is Ford Prefect's (Mos Def) constant use of his towel in moments of danger. Fans will know where this comes from but to anyone else it just looks like very desperate slapstick. A subplot, original to this movie, concerning the quest for a 'Point of view gun' is pointless and goes nowhere at all, seemingly added to give John Malcovich something to do in one of several wasted cameos. The late Adams himself is credited as co-author of the screenplay, and it would be fascinating to know just how much of the script can fairly be attributed to him. The movie isn't without it's pleasures. There are some nice touches such as the beautiful Magrathea interiors, an appearance from TV's Marvin and the original radio shows Arthur (Simon Jones) plus any fan is going to get goosebumps hearing The Eagles 'Journey of the Sorcerer' as we are first introduced to 'The Book' itself. Having said that, the 1981 BBC TV show, which Adams never much cared for, had far wittier graphics to illustrate the Guide than anything this film can muster up. The cast battle valiantly with a generally inane script and flat direction but in the end this just wasn't worth the time, effort and love than so many people spent on it over such a long period. It pains me to quote Marvin the Paranoid Android here but as far as The Hitch-Hikers Guide To The Galaxy goes - "I've seen it, it's rubbish."

The Cat Returns (2002)

Hello kitties.

[8/10 · 26 April 2005]

Hiroyuki Morita's THE CAT RETURNS is a delightfully engaging children's fantasy from Japanese animation powerhouse 'Studio Ghibli', creators of SPIRITED AWAY. Resurrecting 'The Baron', an aristocratic feline from previous Ghibli release Whispers Of The Heart, this has schoolgirl Haru being, well…spirited away into the bizarre 'Kingdom of the Cats' and forced into an arranged marriage with Prince Lune, heir to the moggy throne. As this was the first film from Ghibli since the Academy Award winning Spirited Away, and as the two movies as similar in premise comparisons are inevitable. Although THE CAT RETURNS lacks the thematic depth and lush animation of Miyazaki's film it does possess a certain charm of its own. Sequences such as a nocturnal kitty parade through the sleeping streets or a breathtaking aerial escape with the help of some friendly crows reveal this unassuming little cartoon to possess more undiluted imagination than three Harry Potter films combined. Plenty of sly humour for mum and dad, no mawkish Disney-style song-and-dance numbers and a brisk 75 minute running time combine to make THE CAT RETURNS a family film in the best possible sense. Once again Studio Ghibli prove that rumours concerning the death of traditional cell animation have been wildly exaggerated.

American Splendor (2003)

A tale of ordinary madness.

[9/10 · 25 April 2005]

'American Splendor' is based on the autobiographical comics written by Harvey Pekar and illustrated by many celebrated 'underground' comics artists. Pekar's stories of everyday blue-collar life (Until his recent retirement he was a mailroom clerk in a hospital) have sat next to Batman and X-Men titles in Comic Shops for the best part of thirty years now. Pekar also found minor celebrity as an occasional guest on David Letterman's show until an infamous incident - dramatised in this film - where he let rip with a particularly pointed attack on NBC's connections with arms dealing and what he saw as his own exploitation by Letterman for comedy value. The film dramatises segments from Pekar's life, including a wonderful mid-sixties moment, when he meets a fellow Jazz enthusiast by the name of 'Bob' Crumb, along with scenes taken straight from the comic book itself. These are intercut with interview segments by the directors with Pekar, his wife and collaborator Joyce Brabner and workmates. Paul Giamatti, who plays Pekar in the dramatised scenes, is an extremely credible Pekar. although he's a bit chubbier and less abrasive than the real thing, the mannerisms and, crucially, the voice (Pekar himself narrates many of the scenes) are dead ringers for the man himself. A moment when the real Pekar and his mailroom colleague Toby Radloff (Who deserves a comic book, not to mention a movie all to himself) are chatting with the actors who portray them cracking up in the background is both disorientating and strangely moving. By it's very nature the film is a slow burner. Being an adaptation of a work about the minutae of everyday life, the mundane and the struggle to just get up each morning (Something Pekar claims was a particular effort for his wife) it isn't exactly filled with action. But 'American Splendor' is a delightful and touching tale of a man who's very ordinariness makes him a unique voice. Pekar comes across as a, slightly cleaner living, Bukowski. Or maybe Homer Simpson (There's an uncanny physical resemblance). 'American Splendor' itself is an accomplished piece of film making that isn't showy about it's complex intertextual structure. Plus it's refreshing to see that with the current boom in Comic book movie adaptations there seems to be room for some of the more 'obscure' titles out there to make it to the big screen. 'Love And Rockets' anyone? If you're a fan of Terry Zwigoff's films I guarantee you're going to love it!

Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)

Here comes the Bride...

[8/10 · 25 April 2005]

Tarantino's fourth (and fifth) film as director see's him blatantly working through his cinematic obsessions in a whirlwind of bloodletting and wire-fu. Tarantino's movie mixes Japanese Yakuza, Samurai and Hong Kong martial arts genres together and even throws in a little Anime segment (By Tokyo's 'Production I.G.' studio) and somehow it just about holds together. There are some nice cameo's too, from Tarantino hero Sonny Chiba and Battle Royale minx Kuriyama Chiaki. Miike Takeshi favourite Kunimura Jun also has a small role too, winding up on the wrong end of Uma Thurman's 'Japanese Steel'. The film is full of cool, nerdy injokes for fans of this kind of stuff. It even opens with the old 'Made in Shawscope' logo that adorned Hong Kong's Shaw Brothers productions in the 70's. Somehow though, despite the fact the movie is terrific fun for fans of Eastern exploitation cinema and newbies alike, it leaves you feeling slightly unsatisfied. If you're a Tarantino fan you might find yourself wondering where all the witty dialogue is (That a good proportion of the movie is in Japanese won't help, either) with only the occasional trademark witty one-liner (Thurmans to young gangster wannabe while smacking his ass with sword "This is what you get for f**king around with Yakuza's Now go home to your Mommy!")although we're assured there's lots of it in volume two. Which brings us on to the other real problem. It's no secret that Kill Bill was originally a three hour movie that Miramax has sliced in half with their marketing katana. Unfortunately, this is exactly how it feels too. The movie just stops, albeit on a plot revelation, and up come the credits. Not quite the damp squib of Matrix Reloaded but perilously close. And whereas that film had far too much plot and not enough action, this seems to be the exact reverse. Even the dodgiest Shaw Bros. vehicle revealed more motivation for it's characters actions that Kill Bill does. Ultimately it's a film that cannot be judged until we've seen the complete thing. Unlike the Matrix or Lord Of The Rings trilogies Kill Bill was never meant to be sliced up this way and, despite it's being divided into chapters anyway, it doesn't seem to do the movie any favours. Personally I was always destined to enjoy this, it panders to some of the things I like most about cinema, and Tarantino clearly 'grew up' (Possibly the wrong words, come to think about it) on the same eastern grindhouse cinema I did myself. My advice then, rent out a couple of Fukusuku Kinji Yakuza movies, or Miike Takashi's Dead Or Alive films, or Shurayuki Hime (AKA Lady Snowblood) which this film borrows from most of all and have a marathon screening session with them and THEN see Kill Bill Part one. You'll enjoy it so much more once you know which films it's referencing, and you'll get to see some wonderful movies along the way.

Alien vs. Predator (2004)

Celebrity Death Match

[4/10 · 25 April 2005]

The knives were out for AvP before a single frame of film was shot. The news that Paul W. Anderson was going to follow in the footsteps of Scott, Cameron, Fincher and Jeunet was met with disbelief in some of the more rabid corners of fanboydom. They needn't have worried though, their beloved xenomorphs have such a minor presence in AvP that it barely registers as an official part of the Alien cycle at all. Things actually start rather promisingly, with the intriguing premise that the Predators may actually be responsible for the first sparks of human development and civilization. This was touched upon in the first Predator movie (and lifted, of course, from 2001) but is expanded on here. In a piece of casting that suggests some intriguing plot twists (Which, needless to say, never materialise) Lance Henriksen plays Bishop Weyland, a billionaire industrialist whose spy satellites discover an ancient temple under the Antarctic icecaps. In opening sequences blatantly reminiscent of Jurassic Park he assembles a group of 'experts' to join him on an expedition. This long-ish introduction sets up the predictable, but enjoyable, scenario. Unfortunately they're a rather colourless gang with only Henriksen and Ewan Bremnar's Geoff-Goldblum-Alike having any spark about them. Once they reach the site of the temple both logic and interest begin to wilt somewhat. Why has nobody previously mentioned the whaling station which by amazing coincidence was built slap bang on the top of the site? Of course, the whole thing is a cunning Predator trap to breed new Xenomorphs for an intergalactic game of Battle Royale. It's giving nothing away to say that Anderson kills off his best characters far too early and leaves us with a very poor Ripley clone. The films real problem however is that it is actually a premise in search of a plot. This is real video game material but the film's wafer-thin storyline simply can't stretch even to a meager 90 minute running time. The title, too, is more accurate than you might imagine - those expecting huge swathes of aliens and legions of predators in some kind of Helm's Deep style kick-ass showdown are going to be sorely disappointed. Rarely do we get more than one of each species on screen at a time, which is probably why the movie isn't titled Aliens vs Predators, but feels like a con nonetheless. Anderson appears to believe that his trump card is the big Alien Queen/Predator/Ripley Clone showdown but he then completely flubs it with the most unspectacular of anti-climaxes and an alien queen who seems to have borrowed her motion capture from Jurassic Park's T-rex. Ultimately AvP provides such a poor use of both franchise's that one can almost forgive the slow decline into mediocrity that has previously blighted the Alien cycle.

East Is East (1999)

Solid slice of nostalgia, but something of a wasted opportunity.

[6/10 · 25 April 2005]

Damien O'Donnel's bright and colourful comedy drama is, for the most part, an entertaining and nostalgic tale of the conflicts within a mixed-race family in early seventies Manchester. A hit in the UK upon release the film also did modest business in the US helped by a marketing campaign that promoted it as a breezy comedy but the film also tackles the serious question of what it was, and what it is, to be young, Asian and British. It's curious, and perhaps a little disappointing, that despite the early seventies setting the film steadfastly refuses to tackle the broader issue of racism in any depth. At a time when Enoch Powell was extolling the virtues of repatriation and the nations favourite sitcom was 'From Death Us Do Part' (or possibly 'Love Thy Neighbour') the worst any character in East Is East has to contend with is a shifty look from a nightclub bouncer. Powell does have a brief cameo, as a poster on a window that the family's daughter Meenah (Archie Panjabi) smashes in a defiant demonstration of her footy skills. It's a nice moment, a teenage Asian girl kicking in Enoch's head with a soccer ball – What would Alf Garnett say? Unfortunately we don't get to find out as the films only really abusive white character (Who bears a suspicious resemblance to Johnny Spate's 'lovable racist') only appears a couple of times to mutter something about 'Bloody Pakis' or 'Pickininies'. The conflict between Indians and Pakistanis is given a similar treatment, with George expressing his distaste for "Those cow worshipping bastards" and the contemporary conflict on the subcontinent being relayed on the family's radio. Again, however, this seems more to add colour and humour than for any other purpose. Perhaps O'Donnell felt that a deeper examination of these issues would detract from the theme of Asian/British identity and it's true that other British features have dealt with the subjects in greater detail. Having said that it might have been an idea to make a passing reference to the fact that racial prejudice, while not necessarily any more commonplace than today, was certainly seen as more acceptable. Of course, despite the considerable attention to period detail, 'East Is East' lays no claim to painstaking factual accuracy. There's a fairytale like quality to the film heightened by the Bollywood-style primary colours that frequently contrast with the drab Salford landscape. This viewer was reminded of Hettie MacDonald's council estate love story 'Beautiful Thing', like this based on a stage play with a script by the original author. Both of these films employ a subtle heightened sense of reality that suggests a half remembered childhood memory. One marvellous sequence set in a Bradford Asian flea pit (The 'Moti Mahal') sees the entire Khan clan sitting transfixed during the latest Bollywood epic. It's that rare occasion when the conflicts within the family can be forgotten in favour of a fleeting moment of escapism. And conflicts there are, because the real meat of the film concerns the alienation that exists between the rigidly traditionalist George and the other family members. Played, with a mix of bumbling comedy and genuine menace, by Omi Puri George is certain he knows what's best for his children, not to mention his wife. He wants the kids to learn Urdu but they refuse to study, his precious sons should marry into another Pakistani family of his choosing but they want to screw around with white girls and his wife refuses to show the respect that is demanded in a Muslim marriage. George, while not exactly an anachronism – he gets plenty of understanding from the like minded down at the local Mosque – is a man who cannot see that his children are not like him. Their only sense of the 'homeland' is through their father and the traditions he imposes upon them. It's not surprising then that they consider themselves unequivocally British. Upon arrival in Bradford one of the youngsters takes a look at the locals and shouts excitedly "There's 'undreds of 'em!" In a way it's a shame that the family is mixed race. Not enough is done with this to really justify it and how much more impact the conflict between George and Ella (Linda Bassett) would have been were she also Asian. The fact that the Khan children are half Caucasian also simplifies the question of British-Asian identity a little too needlessly. All of this might suggest a rather dry, even depressing film, but like the colourful feature playing at the Moti Mahal 'East Is East' never forgets it's primary function is to entertain. This is, after all, essentially a comedy and it's frequently very funny indeed. The humour ranges from extremely broad – a scene involving the 'banished' sons new life as manager of a 'swinging' London Boutique and another involving a latex vagina could both have come from an 'Austin Powers' movie – to the grimly dark. The best example of this might be youngest son Sajid's (Who lives permanently inside his Parka like a prototype for 'South Park's Kenny) trip to hospital for a circumcision. Towards the end of the film, in a moment mirroring this, he has the hood of his jacket unceremoniously ripped off and is finally exposed to the outside world, or as close to the outside world as George allows the family to get. Clearly Khan-Din's surrogate in the film (Himself a Salford boy who would have been ten in 1971) much of 'East Is East' is viewed through his eyes and from this perspective the film can be seen as something of a 'coming of age' tale. While not entirely successful 'East Is East' is still a welcome addition to the increasing ranks of British-based Asian cinema and television. Seemingly made with a broad audience in mind it, nevertheless, takes up some serious issues. It's just a shame the filmmakers weren't willing to stick their necks out just a little bit further.

The Witness (1969)

A Hungarian Orange.

[9/10 · 25 April 2005]

That Bacso Peter's devastating satire was banned by the Hungarian authorities for almost a decade will come as no surprise to anyone lucky enough to see this film. You might be left wondering, however, why or how it was eventually granted clearance while communism still held sway in the country. Perhaps it was the pure, blatant cheekiness of the movie? Or perhaps the government of the time realised there was something to be said for the ability to laugh at oneself? Whatever the reasoning, The Witness stands up as more than a curiosity piece from another era. It's still remarkably fresh, and continues to have much to tell us on the subject of authoritarian bureaucracy. Parts of this film, such as the sequence with the 'Magyar Narancs' (Hungarian Orange) have passed into the countries mass consciousness, and with good reason. In fact, I suspect that as good as this film is you really have to be Hungarian to truly appreciate its subtleties and joys. For the rest of us, however, there are still hilarious moments such as the sausage factory in the basement or Pelikan accidentally being given papers with the pre-determined outcome of a court case. This is a unique, beautiful and powerful political satire and a true Hungarian cinematic treasure.

Bubba Ho-Tep (2002)

Mr Coascarelli, Mr Campbell Thankyouverymuch!

[9/10 · 25 April 2005]

Don Coscarelli, the brains behind PHANTASM and its sequels, and Bruce Campbell, star of the EVIL DEAD series, virtually guarantee this unique horror-comedy a cult following. What surprises is the sharpness of the script and the depth of Campbell's performance as a geriatric, nursing-home dwelling Elvis contemplating his twilight years and missed opportunities to bond with Lisa-Marie. There's little time for melancholy, however, with a re-animated Egyptian mummy on the loose and Elvis's sole ally being fellow nursing-home resident Jack (the late, and wonderful, Ossie Davis), an African-American convinced he's JFK ("They dyed me this colour!"). The plot is purposefully slight allowing the two leads to carry the film, aided by sparkly dialogue and the film's knowing sense of it's own preposterousness. Campbell, in particular, seems to relish the opportunity to play The King as a variation on his Ash/Evil Dead persona and if the film occasionally belies its low budget that only seems to make it more delightful. A poignant meditation on the need for a meaning in the autumnal years of one's life? Well, maybe. A cool horror flick with an ass-kicking Elvis and a snakeskin-boot wearing Egyptian soul-sucker? For sure! With the end credits promising a prequel (BUBBA NOSFERATU, anyone?) this might be the beginning of one of the most wonderfully bizarre horror movie franchises yet.

9 Songs (2004)

In The Realm Of The Senseless.

[2/10 · 25 April 2005]

Michael Winterbottom is possibly the most exciting director to emerge from the United Kingdom in the last ten years. Prolific (by U.K standards) and already responsible for an eclectic oeuvre Winterbottom seems determined not to be shoe-horned into being seen as a purveyor of any particular genre. 9 Songs follows the arc of a relationship between a young American girl and an Englishman who meet at a Black Rebel Motorcycle Club gig at the Shephards Bush Empire. At the screening I attended Winterbottom introduced the film as his attempt to tell a love story minus what he considers the superfluous elements such as storyline, character development or any real narrative structure at all. What this leaves us with are a series of vignettes devoted almost entirely to the couples lovemaking, intercut with concert footage of various bands performing at the Empire (The aforementioned B.R.M.C,Franz Ferdinand etc.) by way of suggesting the passage of time. It's an audacious conceit and the hardcore sex scenes and highly physical nature of the relationship have a clear precedent in Oshima's Ai no Corrida but Winterbottom's experiment is an almost total failure. Sadly, the problem lays less with the idea and more with the execution. The dialogue (such as it is) is clichéd to the point of banality and there is a noticeable lack of both humour or passion between the two characters. The music sequences seem awkwardly slotted in to the film in order to up the running time and give the audience a brief respite from the dull and, frankly, rather ugly sex scenes. However, even these concert scenes have a listlessness to them unlike, say, the fabulous musical sequences in the directors 24 Hour Party People. Winterbottom should be commended for constantly experimenting with what can be done with film narrative but with 9 Songs it, unfortunately, feels like he's not even trying. Given his eclectic back-catalogue we could say Winterbottom has added another string to his cinematic bow - his first truly bad film.

The Happiness of the Katakuris (2001)

Cinema has reached its peak. Miike Takashi is the man!

[10/10 · 25 April 2005]

Last night I saw The Happiness Of The Katakuri's. I have to tell you, this is a film I DEMAND you see. Yes, YOU! You owe it to yourself, to your loved ones and to humanity to seek out this wonderful, insane piece of art and savour every second of its 2 hour running time. Happiness Of The Katakuri's is quite simply awesomely good. If you already know the films of Miike Takeshi then you'll need no further encouragement. This incredibly prolific (Around 8 films a year, sometimes more) director makes wild Yakuza pictures(Shinjuku Triad Society Trilogy), reprehensible action thrillers (Ichii the Killer) and deeply disturbing 'feminist' - for want of a MUCH better word - horror (Audition). Where does Happiness Of The Katakuri's fit into this? Well, it's a family musical horror comedy drama. With stop motion animation, a Zombie dance number and an active volcano. And it totally rocks. I'm not sure if Miike just woke up one morning and said 'Hey, today I think I'll rewrite the language of film!' or he just got off his face on ketamine. In the light of this possibly both. I adored this film. After it ended I just wanted to watch it again. The most amazing thing is, he takes all this wildly different elements from many genres of film, melds them together and somehow gets away with it. (Not always the case with the boys work, but when you're as prolific as him you can't always score gold.) I don't want to go into the plot here, although if you've seen Shallow Grave then this is some kind of alternative universe take on that. It's also a remake of a Korean film called 'The Quiet Family' but in Japanese. With songs and Karaoke interludes. It's also quite a sweet drama about how close-knit one family becomes when faced with multiple crisis. I honestly believe Miike is making a serious point here. The fact that he does it so magnificently in a film that is, undeniably, completely barking just adds fuel to the fire of his reputation as a wayward genius. I LOVED this film. I am going to make everyone in the world see it. I swear, if everybody saw Happiness Of The Katakuri's, if we showed it on huge screens all across the world at exactly the same time on exactly the same day, there would be no more wars, or famine, or crime. We'd all realise in a huge collective-unconscious moment that hey, everything is going to be okay. Seriously. It's that good. It's that life-affirming. Do yourselves a huge favour this weekend. Go down to Blockbuster, fire up Bittorrent, do whatever you can to see this film. And watch it on a double-bill with Wild Zero for a true brain-melting experience. A genuine cinematic wonder of the modern world.

Dark Water (2002)

Nakata's leaky roof has hidden depths.

[8/10 · 25 April 2005]

'Dark Water'(Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara) is Nakata Hideo's follow-up to his internationally acclaimed Ringu and Ringu 2. Yes, it's another horror movie and it's also based on a story by Suzuki Koji who wrote the Ringu cycle of novels. Both in style and theme Dark Water is remarkably similar to the previous movies. There's a little girl, her face obscured by long black hair, there's an obsession with water (In Ringu it was the ocean and, of course, the 'Well'. Here's it's leaking pipes and the mysterious Well-like water tower on the roof of heroine Hitomi Kuroki's apartment block.) Nakata also builds on the theme, present in Ringu (the movie but not the original novel) of a single mother determined to protect her child at all costs. In Ringu she was, ultimately, willing to sacrifice her own father. Here she's prepared to give up her sanity. The collapse of the nuclear family runs through all of these films but here it's given center stage and Nakata seems even more concerned with his theme than building up the atmosphere he did with the previous film. This is a character piece, it's more about terror than actually terrifying. Polanski's Repulsion comes to mind. This has the odd effect of making Dark Water strangely moving but not nearly as frightening as you know this director is capable of. The film gets it's tense, creep-out factor from seducing you into really caring about Yoshimi and her young daughter Ikuko (Another great Nakata-directed child performance from the cute Rio Kanno). The film also pilfers quite blatantly from Nicholas Roeg's Don't Look Now! with it's drowned Macintosh-clad ghost-child. Dark Water then, it's got nothing in it that'll mess with your nerves as much as that scene from Ringu but you'll never look at a leaky ceiling the same way and it's got the emotional resonance Nakata's earlier horror classic lacks.

Suicide Club (2001)

Life and Death in Tokyo.

[6/10 · 24 April 2005]

Soni Sion's art movie-cum-psychological thriller seems to desperately want to be a metaphor for... something, but ends up simply (in a rather complex way) confirming what we've all long suspected: Saccharin sweet J-pop is really, really evil. A haggard cop (played by Ishisbashi Ryo, who seems to be making a habit of this kind of thing) believes that a spate of mass suicides might actually be murder after all. Aided by a young rookie and his internet-friendly teen aged kids he goes looking for the source of the 'Suicide club' that seems to have the youngsters of Tokyo in its thrall. The film begins with a real heart-stopper of a scene in which 54 schoolgirls link hands and jump under a subway train. The film certainly keeps you interested with a mixture of originality and moments that recall other genre films such as Argento's Tenebrae and Rasen, the sequel to Ringu. However, the tone is extremely uneven, with the suicides in particular more schlocky than disturbing, which one suspects is what Soni was aiming for. By the time an Eddie Izzard wannabe turns up and we're into a bizarre musical number about French new wave cinema and yellow dogs you'll begin to wonder exactly where all this is going. The answer is: Nowhere, particularly. There are some clever moments towards the end where the film desperately scrambles to make itself coherent but it doesn't really convince. Some striking imagery, though. If you did like this, and quite a few reviewers here seem to, I'd suggest (the far superior) All About Lily Chou-Chou, which has similar concerns, is equally oblique and yet seems to succeed where Suicide Circle is an almost complete failure.

Control (2003)

Going underground...

[9/10 · 29 January 2005]

Nimród Antal's directorial debut opens with a disclaimer from the chairman of the Budapest Metro System explaining that the following film is 'obviously symbolic' and does not bear any relation to the activities of the real ticket inspectors who work the lines of the cities underground railway. One suspects the director added this scene for the amusement of the audience, the chairman seems clearly perturbed that he aided the film maker to produce a work that hardly shows his company in a positive light. However, this rather awkward bureaucrat has a point. Kontroll is a film that works on several levels, none of which ever pretend to be a realistic portrayal or even, for that matter, satire. The film works best as a fairytale, the fable of youngish ticket inspector Bulscú (Sándor Csányi) who, we discover, was a project leader in a research company before unexplained events drove him to work and live in the subterranean metro system. Bulscú never returns to the world above, preferring to sleep on the station platforms and eat from the vending machines. The team of inspectors who work under him include a narcoleptic junk food addict, a short-ass with an attitude problem (and strong shades of Trainspotting's 'Begbie') and a rookie who has yet to undergo the complex initiations of the veteran 'Kontrollers'. Into this mix Antal throws a rival team of inspectors, a mysterious girl in a bear costume and a spate of apparent late-night suicides, perhaps the most interesting element in the film. The suicides are, in fact, the work of a mysterious 'pusher', a Grim Reaper who appears from nowhere to throw people to their deaths in front of speeding trains. There has been much speculation as to the identity, or meaning, behind this character. Is it the alter-ego of the (similarly dressed) Bulcsú, a la Fight Club? Or is a battle for one mans soul being fought out in the dark tunnels of the subway between the angelic Teddy Bear Girl and the spectral Pusher? Whatever the meaning, it's clear that Antal is borrowing motifs from a long tradition of supernatural-subway pictures that goes back to Quatermass and The Pit, Deathline and that memorable American Werewolf moment. The references don't stop there either, as well as the aforementioned Fight Club, Kontroll is reminiscent of the hyper-real world of Alex Cox's Repo Man or Terry Gilliam's Brazil. Regular commuters on the Budapest subway might have trouble recognizing familiar stations as the names have been replaced with cryptic numbers, in Kontroll the clocks that announce the arrival of the next train count down when the actual platform clocks count upwards and all of the advertisements that adorn the walls and escalators of the system have been replaced with sheets of colored plastic creating an eerie familiar-yet-alien atmosphere. Even the vending machine that Bulcú drinks from has coded puns to replace the names of the refreshments (T42!!!). I should mention too that the film is often very funny and stylish. The editing and cinematography make Kontroll look extremely slick and the use of some wonderful subterranean locations belie the low budget. The Run Lola Run-esquire techno score by the band NEO helps to give the film the breakneck pace of a speeding train, especially in several heart-stopping chase sequences. If the film runs out of steam towards the end and the final scene is rather predictable and cliché'd then these can probably be forgiven considering the achievements of Antal's debut feature. Without doubt a talent to watch and, possibly, the first international cult film from Hungary.