Utterly disappointed at not being able to watch Kill and The Clone Returns from the Homeland from the Japanese Eyes Section, I settled for Love Fight (Rabu Faito) from the Special Screenings section. Director Izuru Narushima tells the story of a troubled, and somewhat clumsy first love between Kento Hayashi and Kie Kitano. Love Fight includes two concurrent love stories melding into one. The film packs somewhat of a girly punch and throws in a couple of fight gags, but it is a distilled version of the most painful love story ever.  That award goes to the 1995 film Tokyo Fist by Shinya Tsukamoto which follows a similar storyline of pain and love. Whereas Narushima only gleams the surface of boxing, Tsukamoto doesn`t pull any punches on how visceral boxing can be and how painful an unrequited love is.  Every scene is filled with stark images of boxers clobbering one another and portrays the pangs of an unrequited love by means of sadism and masochism (a bit extreme, but the message comes across). That was by far the most painful love story I`ve ever witnessed. Sure, I can understand that the two main protagonists of Love Fight are teenagers, but adolescence is never as cut and dry as this film; there was more grey area that could have been explored. A sugary pop version of Tokyo Fist.

At the far side of the spectrum comes My Grandma (Boku no Obaachan); the overly sentimental story of a young boy and his grandma. And as a given, you can be fairly certain that any movie with Grandparent in the title signals an imminent death. The question being; at what point in the movie will it happen and what sort of emotional punch will it have on the audience when it does? The main draw of the movie was Kin Sugai who plays the grandmother and who has been acting for 57 years, mostly in minor roles for Akira Kurosawa and Naruse Mikio films, but who has never nabbed a starring role. This film changed all that, and earned her a place in the Guinness Book of World Records for being the oldest actress to get first starring role. Throughout the film, there were plenty of tear jerking moments and by the end, I wanted nothing more than to go home and spend some quality time with my family,`who knows how much time I have left with them?` Indeed, a heart warming family film.

Boku no Obaachan

(The award winners of the 21st Tokyo International Film Festival. The director of Tulpan, Sergey Dvortsevoy is in the middle of the front row, flanked by actors Samal Yeslyamova on his left and Askhat Kuchinchirekov on his right.)

 By Sachiko Shiota

Asa (Askhat Kuchinchirekov) is a young man who has just completed the naval service and come to live with his married sister Samal (Samal Yeslyamova) and three children. Asa longs to have his own yurt and flock of sheep, but Ondas, Samal’s husband, forbids it until he finds a wife. The only girl in relative proximity is Tulpan (Kazakh for “tulip”), but she rejects him on account that his ears are too big. (Kuchinchirekov he had to get up at 5 every morning to put metal springs behind his ears and make them stick out.)No matter how “real” a film feels, it is, of course, not reality. The heartbreak of this fact was reinforced when Dvortsevoy dedicated his award to Bereke Turganbayev, who played Beke, the oldest brother. A little after the end of production, he had gone fishing with his father and had drowned in the river. He was fourteen years old.

 

 

That would be Tulpan, the Kazkhastan-set film that received both the Tokyo Sakura Grand Prix (and a cash prize of 100,000 dollars) and the Best Director award for Sergey Dvortsevoy (5,000 dollars). Centered around a nomad family living in the steppes, the unlikely crowd-pleaser was a highly naturalistic piece of work that shed light on a culture largely unknown to international audiences.

The film’s greatest achievement is the unforced naturalism that fills in the bare bones of the story, creating a rich portrait of nomad life. Shot 500 miles from the nearest town, the isolation, arid land, and winds make the environment truly formidable. Working only with diegetic sound, Dvortsevoy emphasizes its vastness by allowing the viewer to hear sounds such as the wind, or a little girl singing, before panning slowly to catch up with the source.

The cast works wonders, generating the warmth and tenderness of a family without succumbing to easy idealization. The scenes set in the family’s yurt are often cacophonous, with the eldest boy reciting news from the radio, the middle girl singing her heart out, and the adorable toddler running amok, but they never descend into madness. So convincing were they all, I initially thought that the director had befriended and filmed a real family. In reality, Kuchinchirekov, now 26 years old, was a student at an arts university in Almaty who was studying to become a director, and Yeslyamova (24) was a stage actress from the north of Kazakhstan

By Sachiko Shiota

Day four of the festival began for me with a press conference for the Russian-Cuban film, Ocean. Director Mikhail Kosyrev-Nesterov and lead actor Jorge Luis Castro were slated to attend, but for unexplained reasons the director turned up alone. The film follows Joel, a young man from a coastal village in Cuba, as he leaves his home and heads to Havana after a failed romance.

An English interpreter was deemed unnecessary as all the reporters in the room were Japanese, telling evidence that the film did not make much of a splash. As I wrote in my brief review of the film last week, I found Ocean more accomplished in terms of style than storytelling, the handheld camera movements, cross-cutting techniques, and visual motifs unmatched by the ho-hum lead performance and meandering narrative.

Unsurprisingly, the questions tended to focus on the technical aspects of the film. The director spoke of how he set out to capture the spontaneity of Cuban life. During pre-production, he purposely chose not to decide on the number of cuts he would make, and shot the film with a handheld camera so that the emotions of the characters could be felt through the movements of the cameraman’s body. All the dialogue was recorded on the spot, as he did not want to ask the actors to re-record any lines that they had improvised, thereby staying as true as possible to the Cuban-inflected Spanish and native slang.

The Cuba-Russia connection may have raised some viewers’ eyebrows, but collaborations between the two countries are not as common today as you would think: Ocean marked the first co-production in twenty-five years. Asked why he set the film in Cuba as opposed to his native Russia, Kosyrev-Nesterov replied that the dissolution of family relationships in Russia made it impossible to draw a convincing portrait of a close-knit family such as Joel’s. On working in Cuba, the director wearily recalled the amount of paperwork that needed to be filled out and wryly noted, “The Soviet brought bureaucracy to Cuba.” (And Russia brought its protection to Cuba, in the form of the KGB, who stayed throughout production as protection.)

The recent economic crisis has proved an unavoidable topic during the festival, with filmmakers from around the globe expressing concern. But Kosyrev-Nesterov’s words hit the hardest when he spoke of the number of films that have had to halt production in Russia since the downturn: 180. Only time will tell of the repercussions the current state of the world has on international cinema.

21st TIFF

By Esteban Lopez

Watching three movies back to back in one day is no easy feat by any means. But today, I was determined to eke in as many as I could.

Sitting down for my first movie of the day, Tulpan (first feature film for director Sergey Dvortsevoy), I was more than ready for the challenge. Tulpanwhich was shot in Southern Kazakhstan, in a huge part of the steppe; imagine the desert wasteland of Mad Max beyond Thunderdome and you`ll have an inkling of what the movie looks like. The story follows young Asa (Askaht Kuchinchirekov) returning from the naval service to live with his sister and her husband and three children. All of whom live in a Yurt (tent like dwelling of the Mongol peoples with no electricity or running water) which can be packed up easily and moved to another location if need be. Asa wants to be a sheepherder just like his brother in law, but before that can happen he needs to get married. Asa`s only hope for marriage lies with the daughter (Tulpan) of another poor sheepherder on the steppe. However, Asa soon learns that she is not interested in him because of his big ears. Dvortsevoy masterfully shoots the simple life of sheepherders on the steppe with a simplicity and warmth that lends itself to a picturesque vision of nature. Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan this isn`t.

21st TIFF

Next was Super Typhoon by director Feng Xiaoning, who has been apparently been brainwashed by the Red Army films of Mao Ze Dong. At best, this film felt like a low budget Peoples Republic of China propaganda film under the guise of an environmental warning film. After harping on the fact that human life is more important than individual desires, the typhoon finally hits, but not before one of the city head councilmen is reprimanded for drinking alcohol on his daughter`s wedding day and stripped of his title (remember, country before self). This film had me laughing to myself the entire time. Any simpleton could pick up on the message being pounded into the audience; that Chinese solidarity rules supreme and any individuality should be squashed. Cue the cheesy Communist soundtrack, that had me squirming in my chair the entire time. It never let up. Then comes the mayor, or shall we call him Mao Ze Dong in a suit, for that`s what he epitomizes to all those who encounter him. An authority figure who can do no wrong and astonishingly has the answers to everything; that is except the typhoon. But who should come along, the Mayor`s elementary school teacher who so happens to be the meteorological expert. She grades the mayor on all his decisions, often spouting, “excellent marks, excellent marks.” It wasn`t a total mess, I really enjoyed the buckets of water (the super typhoon) splashed on the model cities and all the toy cars and boats being thrown about. However, by far the funniest aspect of the movie was the store bought plastic toy shark used to chase the mayor in waist deep water. Needless to say, no one dies, even though it was the strongest typhoon ever to hit. Go figure. 

21st TIFF

Lastly on the agenda of the day was The Code by internationally acclaimed director Kaizo Hayashi starring the famous Kabuki actor Kikunosuke Onoe; known throughout Japan for his first starring role in Kaidan. Opposite of Onoe; Izumi Inamori plays the sultry and seductive club singer Meilan who can speak Japanese and Chinese effortlessly. She so happens to also hold the key to a Japanese fortune left behind by the Japanese army after their occupation in Shanghai.  Onoe plays a brilliant detective “507″ aptly named after the office where he works, known as “Detective Office 5.” Fascinated and at the same time bewildered by the pattern code he receives from Shanghai, he immediately flies there to learn more. If it all sounds comic-bookish, that`s because it is. The movie moves at a deliberate pace, but the whole story line was cheesy: Hayashi attempts to portray Onoe as a subdued James Bond, but Onoe  ends up being banal and stale instead.  Even Jiro Shiina, the mysterious sniper is a blantant rip off of The Shadow from DC comics. Little can be said for The Code; aside from being stylish, there was nothing really holding the picture together. Character development and the story were so uninspired, that the very end of the film barely fazed me.

On the second day of the Tokyo International Film Festival, due to bad timing and bad organization, I found myself unable to attend a single screening. Deploring my situation, I nonetheless kept busy, hopping from press conferences to Q&A sessions. While I felt guilty covering films that I either had no interest in seeing or would not be able to see, I got to witness firsthand the mechanics of promoting films.

First up was a pre-screening event for The Other Boleyn Girl. A visit to Tokyo by co-stars Natalie Portman and Scarlett Johansson would have brought the house down; alas, director Justin Chadwick turned up solo.

How do you go about selling a film that has already been deemed a critical and commercial failure overseas? Show up (relatively) young, charming, and British, that’s how. Mr. Chadwick had a puppyish energy and easygoing demeanor, and quickly endeared himself to the audience and the interviewer. He played the game with ease, praising Portman and Johansson for their “intelligence and integrity”. He appealed to the audience by stressing the presence of strong female characters in the film, and excitedly slipped in, “I met [popular Japanese singing group] Chemistry last night!” It was not until later that I found out that Chemistry recorded a new theme song for the film.

From the youthful to the professional: I attended next the post-screening, Q&A session of Aide-toi et le ciel t’aidera (With a Little Help from Myself), the new film by François Dupeyron, director of Monsieur Ibrahim. Lead actress Félicité Wouassi was there to represent the film, in a chic black dress and hot magenta boots. She stood in the middle of the stage and enchanted the audience with three warmly-spoken words: “Bon soir, Tokyo.”

Wouassi spoke of how she was sent the script after the director had seen her perform in the Roman Polanski-directed play Doute (Doubt). Struck by the sheer political incorrectness of the film, which deals with minorities in the suburbs of France, she phoned the director in the middle of the night to confirm that she was not going to shy away from the subject matter. Having worked in theatre and film since the age of fourteen, Wouassi is well aware of the dearth of minorities in French cinema. In fact, she called Aide-toi one of the few films in recent years to focus on black characters.

Perhaps due to her background in theatre, Wouassi had a strong, clear voice and a commanding presence. At the end of the session, photographers gathered to take her photo, prompting, “Smile!” Ever ready, she threw back her head and laughed, “You don’t have to ask me that!”

Immediately after that was the main event of the day, the stage appearance of the cast and crew of Blindness, the latest film by acclaimed director Fernando Meirelles. One by one, the cast and crew filed out: producer Sonoko Sakai, her partner and fellow producer Niv Fichman, screenwriter Don McKellar, cinematographer César Charlone (he is also a member of the jury), director Fernando Meirelles, actor Yusuke Isetani, actress Yoshino Kimura, and Julianne Moore.

They each spoke a few words about the film. Meirelles noted gravely, “We are living in a crisis period, and I hope you can learn from [the film]“. Moore praised the film’s “forward thinking”, and added, “I think it’s time for a movie like this”. Isetani joked about McKellar constantly trying to fix his English (all the better to honor the words that he had written), while Kimura, who also discreetly translated for Moore, cleverly tied the film with the film festival’s “green” theme by revealing that Meirelles planted trees to offset the amount of carbon used to produce the film.

It goes without saying that Julianne Moore was the most famous in the group, perhaps the biggest celebrity at the festival this year. She seemed no more or no less beautiful than she appears in films and magazines, and effortlessly, gracefully handled the extra attention. It was unprofessional, but I couldn’t help it: I was starstruck. So fascinated was I by the sight of her laughing the same laugh as in the movies, I almost forgot to take photos, take notes. Now that’s the power of a real star.

 I managed to get into a screening at the last minute of the French film Aide-toi et le ciel t`e aidera (With a little help from myself) by acclaimed director Francois Depreyon. And knowing that French cinema has always been known to be avant garde, I was happy to learn that this film was no exception. From the opening scenes, the pace of the movie was kinetic, almost frantic in the cramped apartment Sonia (Felicite Wouassi) shares with her husband and four children. Quick shots, evocative of MTV music videos allow only small glimpses of Sonia, and her family members in the opening scenes.

21st TIFF

 But within the first ten minutes, Sonia’s husband drops dead, of all days on her eldest daughters wedding day. And so begins the dilemma of whether or not to tell the children and spoil the day for everyone. Her choice leads her down a precarious path and unwillingly she seeks comfort in her next door neighbor Robert (Claude Rich) who offers her a way out that is anything but habitué.

The director explores, the social phenomenon of immigrants and old white folk rubbing shoulders together in the Paris suburbs; or what might be considered The Projects. Albeit Depreyon does so in the most politically incorrect manner, presenting Sonia with more moral dilemmas than any single widowed woman should have to endure and to which she begrudgingly replies, “there is a solution to everything.” One almost pities her naiveté through the course of the film.

Felicite Wouassi

Her eldest daughter married off and her husband dead and buried, leaves Sonia to fend for three children on her own; two teenage boys and a teenage daughter who so happens to be seven months pregnant. Again, Sonia, defeated repeats her mantra, “there is a solution to everything.” Nowhere is this mothers love for her children more apparent than when she throws herself at the mercy of the police officer who has arrested her eldest son for dealing narcotics and who so happens to be drawn to the thug life—the poster of Tupac Shakur on the wall was indicative of that. Surprisingly though, he only listened to French rap through the course of the movie.

 All in all, the ending packs the real punch and shows that French cinema still holds a candle to the ideals of avant garde cinema, pushing the boundaries of what the status quo should be in films, and succeeding masterfully. I won`t give away the ending, but suffice it to say, it`s got music and hidden meanings.

Wouassi sporting pink boots

By Sachiko Shiota

Ever wonder how writers are able to comment on films playing at Sundance or Cannes before the festival has even kicked off? It’s no secret that a large amount of it is hype, or information culled from press releases. It wasn’t until I was able to obtain a press pass to a film festival last year that I found out members of the press have a secret perk: pre-festival, invitation-only screenings.

It is in this way that I am able to write about a handful of the films in competition at the 21st Tokyo International Film Festival, held from Saturday, October 18th to Sunday, October 26th. For the uninitiated, it is the largest film festival in Japan, featuring 300 films selected from around the world. The festival is held in two venues: Roppongi Hills cinemas in Roppongi, a sleek business district, and Bunkamura cinemas in Shibuya, a grimier part of Tokyo that attracts a younger crowd. The filmmakers and the cast frequently turn up to promote their films, participating in Q&A sessions that frequently provoke thoughtful questions from the audience.

The films are divided into six categories such as “Special Program”, “Special Competition”, “Winds of Asia-Middle East”, and “World Cinema”. While they may seem confusing and arbitrary to moviegoers, the clusters are divided according to films that are in competition for prizes, films that have already secured distribution in Japan and are receiving special advanced screenings (such as The Other Boleyn Girl), those that have already played at other film festivals (Mike Leigh’s Happy-Go-Lucky, Steve McQueen’s Hunger), and so on. In light of growing environmental concerns, a new category featuring ecologically-minded films has been set up, ranging from the unknown to the lauded (Werner Herzog’s Encounters at the End of the World) and olders classics (An Inconvenient Truth, deemed a “masterpiece” by the TIFF)

While the festival has been accused of pandering to a pre-established market by showing films already set for release and inviting big Japanese stars, it is worth noting that the fifteen “Competition” films are receiving their East Asian premiere. Here is a brief review of four of the films:

-Four Nights with Anna (Poland)
In this drama by Polish director Jerzy Skolimowski, Artur Steranko plays Leon, a man of few words with a seemingly random—and dangerous—fixation on neighbor Anna (Kinga Preis). Skolimowski deliberately withholds even the most basic information about Leon, cleverly manipulating our take on the man with tantalizing images, flashbacks, dark lighting, and portentous music. The film’s gloom and doom sets in from the very first shots of grey sky and arid ground and permeates throughout. Even as the viewer gradually pieces together the story, we’re still left feeling helpless when the film ends.

-Hamoon and Darya (Iran)
Director Ebraham Forouzesh presents one of the oldest stories in the world. Star-crossed lovers Hamoon and Darya are torn apart by a disapproving society, but when Darya is afflicted with an incurable disease, Hamoon sets off on a journey to save her. The film may be set in a small desert village in Iran with camels, pomegranate trees, and dotaars, but cultural details can’t inject excitement into a melodrama so well-worn, especially with such colorless characters and exaggerated acting to boot.

-Ocean (Russia-Cuba)
A coming-of-age film set in Cuba, Joel (Jorge Luis Castro) decides to leave his fishing village after being jilted by girlfriend Maricel, much to the dismay of his mother (Alina Rodriguez Ruiz) and two younger brothers. He heads for Havana, where, in quick succession, he meets a prostitute with a heart of gold (Monse Duany Gonzalez), and a boxing trainer. Director Mikhail Kosyrev-Nesterov displays an interesting use of technique, cross-cutting between the characters and employing a hand-held camera to enhance immediacy, but his use of actors is less successful. Castro as Joel is unconvincing as he aimlessly drifts from fisherman to prostitute’s boyfriend to amateur boxer, and Kosyrev-Nesterov fails to harness the passion and ferocity that Ruiz and Gonzalez inject into the film, leaving their characters shrill caricatures.

-Tulpan (Germany-Switzerland-Kazakhstan-Russia-Poland)

Despite the international backing, Tulpan takes place exclusively in the steppes of Kazakhstan, focusing on Asa (Askhat Kuchichirekov) a young man who comes to live with his sister Samal and her family after completing the naval service. First-time feature film director Sergey Dvortsevoy has crafted a remarkable film with a high degree of naturalism. Working with a handheld camera and sticking only to diegetic sound, he gracefully fills in the details of nomadic life beyond the most well-known images of yurts, sheep, and total isolation. To give one example, a scene where veterinarian pulls up at the family’s yurt in a motorcycle, an injured baby camel sitting in the sidecar, drew warm laughter from the audience for its sheer unexpectedness. The performances are natural and unforced across the board (from the credits, it appears that the actors may be playing characters molded after themselves), and in particular Samal Yeslyamova radiates tenderness as Asa’s sister and mother of three children.

I rarely ever watch Japanese TV. In all honesty it`s hard for me to follow. I`ll be watching some TV show and it`ll end abruptly and I`ll be sitting there scratching my head. “What just happened? Is it over?” I like to think there might be something of an attention deficit disorder among Japanese viewers because I can`t switch over to a different topic like that; without some closure.

But when I do sit and watch TV, I`m more than entertained by the outrageous commercials; they`re very brief and straight to the point. And there is hardly any dialogue so it`s pretty easy to understand what`s going on.

I remember one, where a salary man was standing in front of a drink machine trying to decide on a drink. When he finally made up his mind, he started chugging his drink (I can`t even tell you what brand either, because I wasn`t paying attention) he was transported to heaven, and there he was reunited with his dead grandmother whom he embraced and started to cry frantically over. “Grandma! Grandma! Oh, Grandma!” I couldn`t stop laughing—this was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen in my life. Sure, it makes absolutely no sense, but what had me in stitches was the look on the guys face, and those over the top fake tears gushing out of his eyes. Only to have him wake up standing in front of the same drink machine, sniffling, as a young female co-worker approached him, concerned.

But today took the cake. I was not in the least ready for what I saw on TV. I don`t know where to begin. It started off as a normal shampoo/conditioner commercial with a lovely Japanese girl flaunting her celestial curls, when a squat, mildly less attractive Japanese woman came on screen, and I thought nothing of it until he spoke in a deep voice. It was then, that I knew it was an Okama (a pot, a kettle) and also the term for Japanese gays/transvestites. So I was glued to the TV watching like one does a horrific car accident unfold.

Okama

The commercial was tastefully done, and I would have never suspected anything had that less than attractive woman not spoken aloud, with his deep husky voice that`s never sounded like any woman I`ve ever met.

What made it even more difficult to stomach was that the Japanese female and the Okama were side by side at the end of commercial both appearing lovely, in a glittery haze, running their fingers through their hair, but only succeeding in highlighting that the true beauty of any female could never be mimicked or even slightly imitated by any beast of a man; no matter how lovely he thinks he is.