Cinemanila Diaries 1: Cut, Ilusyon

October 12-25 is time for the Cinemanila Film Festival, and in this time, movies from around the world will be shown in selected Manila cinemas. Imagine my unmitigated excitement upon hearing this news.

Unfortunately, I was unable to watch the opening film of the festival, Yoji Yamada's The Hidden Blade. A shame, since I found Yamada's earlier film (and first in a trilogy of films in which The Hidden Blade is the second) one of the best in that year.

Today I'm going to tell you something about what I think of two digital Filipino films being screened in the festival. Both are connected by one more thing: Jon Red, brother of acclaimed filmmaker Raymond Red, is involved with both.




Cut

Firstly, we have "Cut," directed by Red and starring Joel Torre. The film is about how a film editor (Torre) slips in and out of reality while he makes a feature film - his great opus, perhaps his last. Of course, I only got the bare essentials of that summary from watching the film itself - the rest was from a description of the film posted outside. I knew there was a film editor, and he was making a film of some sort - quite a testament to how the film itself translates onto viewer interpretation - which, in this case, falls into the category of 'kinda confusing.' Interestingly there is an undercurrent of humor that pervades the film and I am not sure if it improves the film or not.

It's also evident that the film is highly experimental - not only is the narrative non-linear, the entire movie has no spoken dialogue whatsoever. Now to me, this would be no problem, but for me to like it, the remaining power of the film would have to come from excellent sound and visuals.

Let's tackle the visuals first. Cut definitely has an eye for camera angles and composition - the digital medium is exploited here to good effect. Camera angles abound that remind me of Hideaki Anno's Love & Pop (1998) that get scenes at odd angles. As for editing, the style is fast, with lots of quick cuts - which probably has an (unintended?) use of preventing the audience from getting bored to death.

There is one thing about the visuals that I don't particularly like - the way the camera is handled. There is an overabundance of sudden zoom ins and zoom outs that it gets rather irritating. My opinion on the use of zoom is this: if possible, avoid. Manually move the camera closer instead. If you do want to use zoom, don't use it often. If you do it slow, you risk making the movement and flow look artificial. If you use it too fast, it becomes a music video-like feel. Once or twice is okay. More than 40 times and it turns into a cheap gimmick. At times the camera moves so much I was forced to look away to prevent myself from feeling uneasy. (It's nothing like the vomit-inducing Irreversible, but that film is in a class all into itself.)

Ironically, the few static, lingering shots in the film are those that I find the best.

Another disappointment is the sound - the synthesizer score is repetitive and really, really loud at times with the strings. I would have found the movie far better if there was no synthesizer score at all and replaced it with ambient sounds instead.

In any case, it's impossible to recommend or rate such an experimental film, but I can say that I was a bit disappointed with Cut. Approach only if you're into Jon Red or experimental film.

Ilusyon

The second film is Ilusyon, starring Yul Servo and Jaycee Parker. The film is a very strange concoction; it is partly written by Red and is directed by Paolo Villaluna and Ellen Ramos.

The film is set in 1958 and starts as a surreal comedy; Miguel (Yul Servo) is an aspiring painter who moves to his father's small apartment in Manila to follow in his father's footsteps. He arrives only to find out that his father has fled in order to do a little bit of soul searching. With no talent whatsoever in painting art, he is relegated to painting houses. One day a mysterious beauty named Stella (Jaycee Parker) enters his life and he immediately falls in love with her. As he lives a lie with Stella, he gets deeper and deeper into a hole he may not get out of.

The second half of the film is more dramatic and deals with the repercussions of Miguel's love affair. It becomes evident as the film goes on that Miguel is living a reflection of the life of his father, culminating in the final scenes of the movie.

The surreal tone of the movie is a refreshing departure from normal Philippine cinema; however some scenes intended for comedic effect turn ridiculously corny thanks to ill-placed dialogue.

Visually the film is excellent; most of the scenes have a murky, dreamy feel - one of the advantages of DV is how you can use light to create that effect. It's wonderful how a static camera can capture a scene in such nuanced ways, and with DV you can fit those cameras into tighter, more exotic spaces. Composition wise the film is excellent, with imaginative uses of color and space.

There are two scenes in the movie that I find jarring - they are transition scenes that show our protagonist/s walking around a montage of black and white locales from the 50's. It was done in Pinoy Blonde and it was okay there, but it feels out of place here. It's the transition from filmed DV and processed scenes like this that probably did it.

The music is an excellent mix of old songs of the time to piano music that sets the mood beautifully. There isn't really much else to say except that I haven't seen music used this well in a Filipino movie before.

Props have to go out to the two actors for acting as decently as they did. Of note is Jaycee Parker who surprised me. Sure, the acting isn't sublime, but her screen presence is amazing. She is like a specter, a force of nature that goes in and out of the movie and you know she is there.

Thematically the film, especially the second half reminds me of the kind of love explored in films like 2046 or Pisces. Although Ilusyon is not as accomplished as these films it manages to reach a level that few Filipino films on love dare to reach. Upon exiting the theater my first impression was that the surrealism and the themes of love reminded me of something by Haruki Murakami.

Ilusyon is a rare gem in Filipino cinema. You may not like it, but it exhibits an originality and a sense of bravura that is rarely seen in Philippine cinema these days.

Until next time!

We Never Change

Hi folks.

Last May or so I spent my vacation in Zamboanga City, where I was compelled to write the ninth part (of ten) of a short short story compilation, all connected by one thing - the titles are all titles of Coldplay's Parachutes album. This particular one, entitled We Never Change, was about a man who met his lost love one day in an amusement park whilst dressed in a panda suit. The inspiration came from events from my own life, things that really took a toll on the last few months of my college life. Eventually my cousin pasted the first draft in his blog and posted it as his own (which didn't make me happy at all) I went home, cleaned it up a bit to make it fit in one page and removed a few repetitive parts. Here is the finished result, from the original source:

We Never Change

I notice that she has cut her hair a bit, yet neither her demeanor nor her manner of acting has changed one bit. Two years have passed; and I thought to myself: we never change. No, I had thought with a bit of confidence, the past was the past: faded, gone.

And yet here she is in front of me again.

She doesn’t see me, underneath the suit, suffering under the heat of the summer sun, aware of her presence; instead, she sees a cute panda mascot for a local amusement park, fodder for endless photographs: temporary memories. I am invisible, trapped in my own personal prison- and yet I would not have had it any other way. But I know that I had revealed myself to her now, she would probably react very differently. Today, for both our sakes, I am Mr. Panda Man.

Now where do we begin with a person like Marie? She loves sleeping. She comes into school in her van wearing sunglasses on sunny days. She likes to eat lots of food yet never seems to gain a single pound. She hates large crowds yet loves a bit of company. She loves to talk, and loves to listen at the same time. We were different, she and I. We never exchanged glances for months, years prior. I knew her as this somewhat strange, attractive girl with a strange quirk everybody seemed to like. She seemed to see me as this kind, introspective fellow with a weird streak of his own, basking in the various reveries of his own imposed silence.

I didn’t know exactly when it began, but it happened fast. Suddenly we would spend lunch together, having little excursions into the city walking side by side, a pair of sojourners lost in a sea of people. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, being with her. When we talked about nothing in particular, it felt like we had everything in the world to share. When she crept up behind me and held me from behind, I merely smiled, a strange warm feeling coursing through me. When she rested her weary head on mine during chemistry lab class, I wouldn’t move an inch. She needed the rest, I had thought. Once she had told me about how she loved pandas – I had once given a little panda trinket to her as a gift. My nights were often sleepless, full of waking dreams and endless thoughts of Marie and how I would spend tomorrow with her.

Then, as suddenly as we had discovered each other, we drifted apart. I don’t really remember how or why it ended up that way; memory is a strange thing, you know. It seems infallible, unchangeable like stone. But emotions mold the stone tablets of our memories, muddling them as if mixing some strange concoction, until eventually something different and exotic emerges. We try to hold on to them, these poor, tattered memories, yet they fade away into the recesses of our minds like the print on old books, or the print of fading photographs.

By the end of the year we were no longer speaking to each other. The few times we spoke were formal concerns when we simply needed to talk. She had turned to face the crowd the last time I saw her, to her family and friends, far away from me and her past.

She poses beside me, hugging the fake fur and sighing in her own cute way. She pats my costume’s head and thanks me for posing with her. It was like nothing had ever happened between us, as if we were friends again, I had thought at that moment. Yet I know she was talking to Mr. Panda Man, and not me. If she saw me now, what would she have said? Would she even talk to me? I wished a million different things to happen, but there are no time machines or Deus ex machinas in this life. Only missed opportunities and fake, altered memories remain.

She walks away with her friend, disappearing in the crown, and I walk the opposite way. I begin to notice that my heart had been fluttering ever since our little exchange had started. No, I thought. I could not move on. She still holds me in place, a stranger bound by doomed love, lost in time, suffering under a cute, furry prison of solitude.

Two years from now, I will still be in love with her – and Marie will still love panda bears.

---

It's been two years since I've seen "Marie," and since that moment in time we haven't spoken directly. No, nothing will change.

Here's to you, my friend.

when I was a child I believed I could fly

I'm 22 now, and I'm firmly stuck on the ground.

When I was a child, I was just a kid living day to day, wondering whether I would get a new toy tomorrow. Today, I'm living the dream of the archetype worker slave of Western Civilization. Live, Learn, Conform, Get a Job, Contribute, Die. Every day of my living existence I submit to the wiles and whims of my teachers, my superiors, my bosses. One large heirarchic tree stretching to infinity, with God at one end.

Congratulations to me - I am one year closer to my death. My hair's getting whiter by the day. I'm loading up on crap and toxic substances with every breath and every bite and every sip. I'm living my life, while dying at the same time, in every single second of my existence. It's a wonder what aging can do for you. When you were a child you believed in a great number of things, and as you grew older every one of those beliefs was thrown out of the window.

When I was a child I believed that tongue was spelled T-A-N-G. When I was a child I believed you can get pregnant from oral sex. When I was a child I believed that the SNES was the pinnacle of video game entertainment. I believed that whenever I watched Unsolved Mysteries or Inhumanoids an invisible hand would abduct me. I believed I was from Venus and was the reincarnation of a 600 year old person.

What I believed was nothing compared to what I learned. I learned that when you opened up yourself to another person you would get the world. I learned that friendliness and companionship are things not all people seek. I learned that when you opened up your feelings to different kinds of people, they shun you. I learned that one perfectly timed bad moment screws up everything. I learned that things like love are really amoral, and that people can do evil things in the name of love, while at the same time people can do the greatest things in the world because of the same reasons. I learned that there are some things that cannot be fixed. I learned that miracles do happen, despite that. I learned not to close my mind. I learned that Samm Schwartz died years ago, and I will never see another original Jughead strip from him again. I learned that time is relative, fleeting, precious.

I learned that even if I could never truly fly, I could try.

Here's to one more year of existence. Happy birthday to me b(^_^)d

WORD LIFE!

I made this.

I had a really, really bad day today, and I have no one else but myself to blame. So I made this as therapy.

I think I may need psychiatric help...













WORD LIFE!

till next time.

p.s. I'm getting addicted to the theme song of Samurai 7, Nanase Aikawa's UNLIMITED. It has a really cool tune.

A love not so ordinary

One of the specialties of Korean filmmakers is genre cinema, and one of their most liked genres (at least by mainstream audiences) is the romance film. Be it a rom com or a straight melodrama, Korean films have been tugging the heartstrings of people for quite a while.

The premise is so commonplace it's almost formulaic. Take rom-coms for example: A person who looks absolutely fantabulous (handsome or cute, depending on the situation,) who may or may not be sassy, befriends a person of the opposite gender in an incident that may be attributed to chance. The actor/actress portraying this character may have acted in numerous pretty boy roles, or in the case of a woman, may have a great number of cosmetic commercials. Slapstick may or may not ensue, which often involves the slapping of heads (we call this batok) and other inventive situations. After a long segue of fun interactions, which may consist of trips to some place of amusement, a freak melodramatic moment completely reverses the tone of the film at the last 2/3, which eventually resolves itself in a more or less happy ending thanks to a resolution. Oh, and 4 times out of 5, the two leads have known each other somewhere before, either as childhood friends or highschool classmates.

You've seen that, right?

What if someone screwed all of that up?

What if actor NOT known for playing pretty boy roles (Jeong Jae-yeong) is the male lead? What if the actress in the female lead, albeit pretty, looks like some normal person you can see in the street? (Although she still looks great in some shots.) What if the freak melodramatic moment happens in the first 10 or so minutes of the movie?

Director Jang Jin, who would later go on to have a hand in two of the biggest movies of 2005 (Welcome to Dongmakgol, which he wrote, and The Big Scene, which he directed) posed this question. The product is Someone Special (a.k.a. A Woman I Know,) a quirky, fun satire of the romantic comedies that have plagued Korea since the advent of My Sassy Girl.

Jeong Jae-yeong is Chi-sung, a down and out baseball player who has faced rejection one too many times. When he finds out he has lung cancer, he lives his life with abandon, since nothing really matters. He meets Yi-yeon, a slightly nervous, quirky bartender at a bar near his house. It's obvious that Yi-yeon is into him (she even carries him to a motel - stuffed into a box) but he doesn't care, since he's going to die. Eventually they get into various unconventional situations of their own, as Chi-sung tries to find out what love really is.

The film's parody of the Korean rom com genre is evident, especially in it's "Movie-within-a-movie" sequence, which I like to call "Telephone Pole," where Chi-sung frequently berates the movie, perhaps also due to his own disenchantment. Later on in the movie, when faced with a dramatic situation, Chi-sung does the same thing the guy in that movie did, hoping that somehow a miracle will happen, which is typical of many movies of this type. After a few moments however, it is apparent that nothing will happen... or are we led to think that way?

Ironically, although the movie deconstructs the genre, it also adheres to some of the elements it satirizes. The point of the movie is then made a bit more complicated by the notion that from a simple satire of the genre the movie makes itself an (albeit strange) example.

Jang Jin shows his talent for comedy here, using well-placed editing techniques and impeccable timing from the actors for comic effect. Speaking of the actors, the two leads are nothing if not unconventional, but they show an interaction and innate chemistry that enhances your perception of the film as a whole.

By the end of the film, we are left to ask for ourselves: what is love? The movie, through Chi-sung poses that question throughout the movie, but we can easily say that all of the opinions expressed in the movie are true. When you fall in love, it just happens. Love is... just love, is it not?

La Dolce Vita

After the success of A Tale of Two Sisters, a complex psychological film with horror elements, Kim Jee-woon returns to the scene with his latest film A Bittersweet Life. Touted as an action noir film, the film is ultimately a visually lavish way to tell a deceptively simple story.

Sun-woo is calm, cool and collected. As a bodyguard in some sort of gang, he's the right hand man of Kang, the Boss. Sun-woo seems detached from the rest of the world; he's like a passenger riding along with life as the scenery. He lives a carefully ordered life, a straight line that has no diversions. The Boss likes this for obvious reasons, and one day he orders him to watch over his girlfriend. If Sun-woo finds her cheating, he must either kill her or inform him. This sets a chain of events that leads to the destruction of Sun-woo's perfectly ordered life.

The premise of the story is pretty simple, and is typical of the noir genre. The great characterization of Sun-woo shines trhough; this is truly a movie about him. When the first cracks in his life manifest, he reacts with a fury that he has hidden for perhaps all his life. He spends the next hour or so unleashing this pent up emotion in various stylish and creative scenes. This may be the film's greatest strength as it is it's weakness - it may be very well done, but the film is too typical, and when you watch it you get the feeling that it has already been done before.

The ultimate irony in the film is that Sun-woo himself doesn't know exactly why he undertook this path of bloodshed; he just committed to it, and that was that. Of course, we all know why he did the things that he did (or do we?) but Sun-woo, we theorize, has never experienced these feelings before. His conflict spans the film as well. At the end he has finally realized what it was all about, and accepts whatever comes to him.

Apart from everything else, the film is visually one of the best of the year. Big props (is there a pun in here somewhere?) to Ryu Seong-hee, who designed the sets for this film. If the visual style looks similar, she also worked on Oldboy. Kudos also goes out to the editing of certain scenes in the movie. At one point when Sun-woo looks after the Boss' girl, we see a flash of a scene of swaying trees (were those bamboo trees?) seen earlier in the movie, a kind of leitmotif similar to the cloud formations in Akira Kurosawa's Ran.

Some call this movie "The next Oldboy" or an Oldboy clone. I think that doesn't hold much ground aside from the stylistic violence or the basic plot thread. Oldboy was about revenge; A Bittersweet Life has revenge secondary to the main point of the film: "The sweet will never be sweeter without the sour."

Or something like that.

Venice, Venice...

The Venice Film Festival is done, and the list of winners is interesting.

The Golden Lion for Best Film went to Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain. Played by Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal, the movie is about a story between two cowboys living in the grasslands of Wyoming in the 60's. It's a love story as well. Yep - that's between two men. I wonder how they managed to pull this off.

The Silver Lion for Best Director went to Philippe Garrel for his work on the three-hour Les Amants réguliers, about a group of students amidst the May 1968 French riots - an idea that has been touched on by filmmakers such as Bernardo Bertolucci in his film The Dreamers and Jean Luc Godard in one of his works whose name eludes me. The film also won a technical award for its cinematographic proficiency.

The Jury Special Prize went to Mary, a film from Abel Ferrara starring Juliette Binoche and Matthew Modine. It's about how Binoche's character, an actress, turns to God after portraying Mary Magdalene in a film made by Modine's character.

George Clooney's biopic on Edward R. Murrow, entitled Good Night, and Good Luck won the Best Actor award for David Strathairn, who played Murrow, and the Best Screenplay award for Clooney and Grand Heslov.

The Best Actress went to Giovanna Mezzogiorno for her role as Sabina in Cristina Comencini's La bestia nel cuore, adapted from Comencini's own novel. I thought Lee Young-ae would clinch it, but anyway...

The Best Young Actor or Actress award went to, Ménothy Cesar in Vers le sud, by filmmaker Laurent Cantet.

Park Chan-wook's film Sympathy for Lady Vengeance won three out of competition awards, which I think was pretty impressive. Takeshi Kitano's new film Takeshis' was well received but I don't think it won anything.

Well, time to get that A Bittersweet Life review out of the closet. See ya in a few.

Feeling Lousy...

The title says it all. Thus, I have changed my title picture thingy to suit the mood. Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance is a cold, calculating foray into the depths to which anyone can go given the right circumstances - ironically, in this movie's case, out of love. Once I've seen Sympathy for Lady Vengeance I'll do a little feature on all three of Park Chan-wook's "vengeance" movies.

Until then, let me wallow in my sorrow just a bit more...

A Wandering Stare

When I finished watching Lee Yoon-ki's debut film This Charming Girl last Saturday, I didn't know what to say about it. Some parts seemed extraneous somehow and the film as a whole didn't seem to coalesce into something tangible. I couldn't see what everyone was talking about that made the film so good.

Over the course of the next days, however, I couldn't stop thinking of this film. By the next day, my opinion of this film changed vastly, and I now consider the film to be one of the best of the year. Quiet, delicately restrained and contemplative, This Charming Girl is an interesting picture into the psyche of a woman struggling to break free.

Break free from what, you may ask? You'll have to see the movie to find out. The movie begins with us seeing the main character, Jeong-hye (portrayed superbly by Kim Ji-soo in her first film role,) going through the motions of everyday life. She works as a postal worker, quietly going through her days silently toiling, seemingly aimless. As the movie progresses, we notice that something is different with Jeong-hye. She spends moments of quiet contemplation, and sometimes engages in strange little things like impulsively buying kimchi from home shopping. Director Lee states that it's not that Jeong-hye couldn't make kimchi for herself, it's more of the fact that she's curious and wants to try it out on a whim.

She takes this attitude to a new level when she decides to take a chance. As we see how she deals with the repercussions of this act, we see more and more through the layers of her past and the things that has shaped her life up until now. What we see by the end of 99 minutes is a small glimpse into someone's heart.

The camerawork in this film is very interesting, to say the least. There are lots of handheld shots (I wouldn't be surprised if I found out the entire film was handheld) and lingering static shots with a good eye for composition. I also noticed that there are few long-distance, wide angle shots in the movie (I counted 10, give or take a few.) Most of the scenes lavished its attention on Jeong-hye, her face, her expressions, her little motions and quirks, never capturing her more than a few meters away, giving the film a slightly voyeuristic (or personal, depending on your interpretation) feel. But this is her movie, after all.

Some people may be put off by the languid pace the film takes; I do admit that watching a movie like this takes a bit of patience, but in my opinion the payoff is extremely rewarding.

As the film cuts to a final shot of Jeong-hye's face, we try to find the meaning in her expression. Was it sadness? Or was it the promise of hope? Lee wisely lets us make the decision ourselves; or perhaps we can say that Lee leaves it to Jeong-hye - in the end, it's ultimately her life.

Say you, say me part 2: Rikidozan

When I see professional wrestling on TV, I still see, after almost two decades, the flashiness, the electricity in the air, the soap opera style sketches. I was a fan for a long time; as kids and teens we lapped up the suspense and the matches and cheered our favorite wrestlers on.

In Japan, professional wrestling (contracted into "purores") is considered as a more serious sport. Wrestlers are treated more like sports athletes than entertainers. One even got into the Japanese Government, no less wearing his trademark mask.

The man who almost single-handedly brought pro wrestling to Japan was a man called Rikidozan. How interesting it is to note that Rikidozan, a man who is considered a national hero in Japan is actually from Korea.

Rikidozan the movie is a biopic, but it does try well to get out of the pitfalls that other movies of its type suffer. We see Rikidozan as a man beset by faults, but striving for a place in the world. Or perhaps we can say that all he wants is a world where he won't be judged because of his race or creed.

Some of the more enjoyable scenes in the movie occur when Riki fights his first match in Japan. At the time Japan was a wreck after losing WWII, most importantly with respect to morale. I noticed that the announcers talked about the match in this way: they didn't refer to Rikidozan "beating up Mr. this and that," but rather of Rikidozan "defeating America." It was a great source of pride for the Japanese people, giving them something to hold on, something with which to save face, for a country obsessed with saving face and personal honor.

No, Rikidozan was not a perfect person. His love story with his wife Aya, portrayed by Japanese actress Miki Nakatani (Chaos, Ring 2) may be a bit underplayed but it works, for what it's worth.

I am now in the opinion that Sol Kyung-gu is in the top tier of actors in Korea, if not Asia, if not the world. He gives the character Rikidozan life, a marked contrast from his roles as a mentally impaired person in Oasis or as a suicidal man in Peppermint Candy. His usage of Japanese is quite good from my reckoning, and I probably wouldn't have known that he was a Korean actor had I not known.

In the end, Rikidozan was a good effort. It may not have been a perfect film, but it competently shows the quest of a man whose only wish was to be able to smile as much as he wanted.

Say you, say me, part 1: 2009 Lost Memories

Why, you may ask, "say you, say me?" Well, the next two movie reviews are going to tackle two movies that have something in common: they are movies with Korean actors in Japanese-speaking roles, and the setting is either Japan or a colony of Japan. Can't make the connection? Neither can I. :p

First up is 2009 Lost Memories, starring Jang Dong-geun and Toru Nakamura. The premise of the film is very interesting.

Here goes. In 1910, Korea was under Japanese rule. This all changed when a man named Ah Jung-geun killed Prince Ito Hirobumi, then Governor General of Korea. This later lead to many uprisings that eventually led to the Annexation of Korea in the same year.

The film poses the question: what if the assassination attempt failed? An amazing sequence of parallel history shows us what could have happened. The movie then begins in Seoul, but as soon as I saw the city, everything felt different. When I saw the Japanese-style police cars and the suits, I knew that this was a different Seoul, a different world.

The immersion is what matters in a film like this, and although it does start very well, the immersion wasn't as good as it was at the beginning once you get to the movie's second half. Jang Dong-geun does a decent job speaking Japanese, but I kinda felt the accent still shining through. It is a challenge speaking a different language, so I do commend him on his effort. The rest of the actors there only have supporting roles, perhaps except for Jang's partner Toru Nakamura, who does a decent job whenever he is on the screen.

The action scenes were okay, although there was nothing special in them. No wirework, no bullet ballet, just people shooting each other a whole lot. The special effects are quite commendable for a Korean movie and are a service to the story.

There aren't many sci-fi films in Korea. Perhaps people were still reeling from the massive box office faliure that was The Resurrection of the Little Match Girl back then. I can only name Natural City and Wonderful Days as truly sci-fi themed films released since then (does Yesterday count? I'm not really sure...) 2009 Lost Memories is a great effort to make a Korean sci-fi movie that works. Well it did, earning a good deal of money, but the costs offset it. Hopefully soon Korea will start its true foray into sci-fi. I'm looking forward to what the results could be.

Paradise Lost

Much has been said about Masamune Shirow's other epic influential manga, Ghost in the Shell. That manga, and the anime movie and television series that followed it, helped popularize and revolutionize the anime phenomenon.

That isn't Shirow's only manga, however. There is one manga that he considers his "life's work-" that manga is Appleseed. Still ongoing after around 20 years (and uncertain if it will be finished at all) it is a deep reflection on man, technology and society.

An anime adaptation was made, if I recall correctly, in the early nineties, and it wasn't all that good. The story was taken out in favor of the angst and action - and considering that what was left was mediocre animation, it wasn't all that appealing.

Years later, I found out that there was a second adaptation of Appleseed, and when I saw the trailer, I was stunned. Unlike the full CGI approach that movies like Final Fantasy The Spirits Within took, Appleseed took the approach of cel-shaded 3D graphics, used previously, to my knowledge, only in videogames like XIII.

Having seen the movie, my verdict is: the movie looks spectacular, but if you're looking for a deep story, there's none of that here.

Appleseed takes us to the future earth of 2137, where man has almost driven itself to extinction. In a bleak, devastated field of battle (in a spectacularly choreographed scene that shows us how to use slow mo the right way) a warrior named Deunan Knute is rescued. She is taken to Olympus, one of the last refuges of man, a city that looks like paradise... at first. In this land humans and artificial creations called bioroids live side by side. But there are forces that conspire to destroy this balance between human and bioroid. Deunan and her former partner (and lover?) Briareos Hecatonchires team up to find out who before a terrible mass murder is committed, as well as uncovering the secret of Appleseed.

Visually, this movie is, for lack of a better term, gorgeous. The CGI is astounding, a significant leap over previous Japanese attempts at CGI (Visitor and A.Li.Ce come to mind) The ocean scenes showcase the added visual power the movie has in comparison to its predecessors. The climactic final scenes are fast and are a delight to watch.

The pulse-pounding soundtrack is excellent - while it lasts. Somewhere in the last quarter of the movie, the frenetic electronic tracks are replaced with much more standard action movie soundtrack fare, only to reappear in the opening credits. I wish the whole film was included in the soundtrack - it gave the first 3/4ths of the movie life.

The story, unfortunately, is where the movie begins to falter. The scenes feel too tacked on with respect to each other. It feels like a cliff's notes version of the manga - and even then, it takes a lot of liberties with the original material. More importantly, the philosophical discussions and overtones of the manga have been all but omitted in the film - and that's what Shirow's manga in general has in substance: the complicated politics and sci-fi metaphysical musings.

Appleseed succeeds in being a revolutionary movie in terms of visuals, but in everywhere else, it's your normal anime movie. Sadly, this trend has been seen in several other anime as well, and the use of cliche may not be as appreciated by some audiences. For me, however, it turned out to be a very satisfactory experience all around. Watch out for it, if just for the eye candy.



p.s. speaking of eyecandy, Appleseed 2 is in the works. John Woo is reportedly producing. Not to be outdone, Square is releasing the much antipated CGI-animated sequel to Final Fantasy 7 - Final Fantasy Advent Children. The movie premiers in the Venice Film festival at around this time. I've seen the trailer and I was pretty much blown away...

Oh $#!t, did that guy just jump through a...

Banlieue 13 is enjoyable, just like Yamakasi, (another Luc Besson produced movie) is enjoyable. If you enjoyed Yamakasi you will probably enjoy this one a lot more. This is a stylish French action movie if I ever saw one, and kinda goes like the French version of Ong Bak. Heck, the people who made this film probably saw Ong Bak (I'm certain at least Luc Besson did) and said "Holy $#!t, did that guy just jump over a ****ing SEDAN and hit a guy in the head with his ELBOWS!?" and then made a smooth comeback by saying "Hey, we can do that too."
The plot is paper thin, but that really isn't the point. It's the future and areas with rampant crime are being sealed off. Banlieue 13 is such a place. Things have gotten so rough even the police are abandoning the area. A cop (Cyril Raffaelli, who had a villain's role in the Jet Li movie Kiss of the Dragon) is tasked to go to the area to prevent a neutron bomb from killing everyone. Of course, he won't get through the area without a guide, and Leito (David Belle, who had a few bit parts in the Palestinian Movie Divine intervention and Brian de Palma's Femme Fatale) is just the man for the job. He has a bit of a past with the man who has the bomb, so naturally he's eager to kick some ass.

And action ensues. The action is stylish. Mix Ong Bak (without the muay thai) with Yamakasi and you basically have it. Climbing buildings without support, kicking people's asses, jumping from building to building, that's what it's all about. The two lead actors kick ass in their respective scenes, but the scenes at the first 50 or so minutes are better and more numerous than the scenes in the rest of the film. That's okay, since the movie is only 85 minutes long, but it does affect the flow of the story.

Soundtrack: synth and some French rap. French rap, mmmm! Aristocratic. The camerawork is kinetic and serves the action well, which is all it needs to do.

This is by no means a thought-provoking action movie that transcends our minds, blah, blah, blah. It's merely a fun way to spend 85 minutes of your time with great action and death-defying stunts - like I said, just like Yamakasi. Believe me, if you're like yours truly, you'll spend many a time saying the words of the title of this post, stupefied and entertained.

INSIDIOUS

I was walking around the mall and passed by a McDonalds. Guess what I saw in an ad DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE STORE.

That's right, an ad for Jollibee.

INSIDIOUS.

I was at one of the Pediatrics wards of the Philippine General Hospital (there are 2) and the place is newly renovated. I walk around and see sick kids (natch.) Then I see that the people responsible for the renovation is McDonalds. Hence the garish McDonalds colors, and the pictures of Ronald and the kids sprinkled all around the wards.

of a hospital. See you later, kids!

the PGH have no money to speak of so it's kinda understandable, but from a marketing standpoint...

that's horribly clever.

...and

INSIDIOUS.

I went to McDonalds yesterday, ate one of those double cheeseburgers. Mmmmm-mmmm. Did I have a choice? No, everywhere else was full. Did I enjoy the meal? Hell yes. For a slab of processed meat n'cheese in a bun, that was damn tasty. I kinda want another one.

INSIDIOUS.

Read or Die

No, this is not about the anime series. For the past week I've managed to read three books. Two of them in two days. This is good, right?

The first book I read in my book binge was Alex Garland's The Coma. It's beautifully illustrated and well-written. However, it doesn't last very long - then again, what does? A good imagination makes this book even better.

The second was Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Also short (I read it in around three to four hours, including breaks) it's sentimental and nice, although there is one mistranslation of Filipino in the final chapter.

The third was Morgan Spurlock's Don't Eat This Book, which is sort of a companion piece to his film Super Size Me. He makes some salient points about the food industry, and how we are bombarded with ads ever since birth. It's all a business thing. Ironically, the first thing I did after buying this book was go to a McDonalds. Heh.

Well, until next time...

One musing for the week:

... and this is going to be strange and in the end will sound more like a weird ramble than anything else. I don't have a lot of time, so here goes:



Okay, this is Anna Ohura, an AV actress (adult video, another term for porn actress) in Japan from the late nineties, early turn of the millennium, reportedly mixed Japanese and European blood, with huge natural breasts. I mean huge.

But that's not my point. I've been seeing her... "work" for the past few years and why is it that everytime I see her (well, around 75 percent of the time) she has this look, which can only be adequately described as a mixed confused/annoyed look. In Filipino it would be called nakakunot ang noo. Can't visualize? Here's an example:


This look has been baffling me for years. What does it mean? Is she annoyed at her male counterpart's insufficiency? Is she thinking to herself, "what the hell am I doing here?" Is the camera making her insecure? Are there spectators around, and are they making her insecure? Is that her "thinking deeply at the course of my life" look? Is she confused? Annoyed? A combination of the above? Does she have chronic back pain? More than half a decade of looking and I have no idea. Note that this look doesn't show up in still photographs, only in video, only live.

Ladies and gentlemen (especially gentlemen,) AV stars are people too. They think about various things in their life. This look may entail a deeper meaning for all of us.

That, or I'm just insane. I'm leaning towards the latter.

Swabe at mabango... Wag nang mag-atubili, bumili na kayo... Eto na ang totoo, Eto na ang totoo...

I was immediately hooked when I saw the trailer to Peque Gallaga's first movie in six years. It featured a classic action sequence almost unique to Filipino Action movies: the bad guy and the good guy, played by Eddie Garcia and Ricky Davao. I laughed when I saw the obvious parody to the cheesy action films I had grown up with in my youth. In an interesting variation, they spin around wirework-style, and land together, with Garcia exclaiming that this isn't a normal Filipino Movie. Such is the tagline of Pinoy Blonde. After beating myself to a bloody pulp for not being able to see Mark Meily's La Visa Loca earlier this year, I had to see this film, at the very least as an act of contrition. Heh.

Remember, that was just the trailer...

Does the movie with a tagline like that, accompanied by the familiar strains of Radioactive Sago Project's Astro live up to its promise? Is it really a movie unlike any other Filipino Movie?

In a way, yes. Pinoy Blonde is a strange movie, and for one it is definitely hard to conclusively classify. It's comedy, action, parody, romance, social commentary all mashed together into a strange concoction (that's the second time I've use that word this week!.) To describe this movie would be the same as describing the taste of an alien dish when you have a congested nose: you just can't- unless you say it tastes like chicken.

Real life uncle and nephew team Epi and Boy2 Quizon pair up as Andrew and Conrad Cunanan, two cousins who are ordered by their uncle (with over the top dramatic flair, no less!) to deliver a package in exchange for a bag. Both cousins are diehard fans of cinema in general; no less than five minutes into the movie and our two main protagonists are spewing quotes from popular mainstream cinema. One of them is a fan of Ishmael Bernal, the other, of Lino Brocka. Once they get underway, things start getting really weird.

Really weird.

...And the duo comes to know that they've bitten more than they could chew.

While they undertake this little journey of theirs, their active imaginations run wild and they enact scenes from their favorite movies, little cinematic fantasies swimming around in their impressionable heads. As the inevitable conclusion grows closer, things take a turn into the absurd as the finale tries to top off everything it has established.

Pinoy Blonde is so unconventional that it threatens to border unto the postmodern. Curiously, in emulating the mainstream films that it pays tribute to, either through didactic stretches of dialogue or through parody, it becomes something entirely different. From the standpoint of the Average Filipino Movie, the roles of the central characters are different. For example, Epi's character is certainly not the sort of person we would associate with a "hero" archetype (at least, on the surface:) we see none of the typical innocent naivete or the typical headstrong black and white idealism that we see in conventional Filipino male leads. Instead, we come to see a brash antihero with a penchant for fooling around with the ladies. There is, however, the idea that at heart, he really means well, and he's not really that unlikeable a guy.

Beneath the surface, however, these concepts are shown further within his character: his naivete when it comes to cinema is exposed when he confronts Ricky Davao's character. Also, his idealism on making the film of his dreams shines through to the end of the movie. He's a man who appreciates sentimentality. It's probably why he likes Brocka. It's like the old stuff in a different, fresh flavor, and it somehow works in this context.

The characters in this film, as amalgamated as they may seem, can also be seen as symbols or devices to get the film's point across. What the film's ultimate point is, however, is debatable - and that may be its greatest failing. However, one could argue that it could be that the point of the movie is the movie itself; indeed, Pinoy Blonde is self referential, with various alludes to Filipino Culture. I honestly can't see foreign audiences getting as much from this film as we could - it's flavor is still distinctly Filipino.

Most notably, Filipino Cinema fans would likely get the meaning of two scenes in the film that were made to look like old Filipino films from film festivals from other countries, something that I thought was a clever touch. How sad it is that our best movies, movies from the Filipino golden age of cinema - back in the 60s, 70s and early 80s, movies with excellent relevant social commentary or movies that challenged societal issues, exist only as faded prints in other countries, categorically forgotten by our own people.

Perhaps that is what the movie tried to convey - a reflection on how our once noble film industry crumbled to dust in less than twenty years - how our films devolved from these great films from the eighties to heightening melodrama in the nineties to soft porn to today's increasingly slick, "high-production" fluff that, despite having lavish budgets, ends up being ultimately superficial and hollow. (For the record, this movie was made with a budget of only 1 million pesos ($50,000) which is by Philippine movie standards not that expensive at all.)

Then again, I may just be reading into it too much.

Now to the technical aspects of the film. I'm not sure if the print that I saw was a bad print, because the editing, especially in the first half or so of the film, seemed forced or choppy, which detracted from the overall feel. I'll have to see the video version to be sure. The soundtrack at times seemed to emulate some of the sythesizer sounds of the 80's and 90's. The recorded songs by local bands was fairly good, but I expected more Radioactive Sago Project - I like their style. The CGI is decent for a Filipino film, and considering it's a parody, I don't really mind.

The second quarter of the movie suffers from a bit of pacing issues, when the imaginative flashbacks occur one time too many. From a relatively upbeat and fast opening quarter, the succeeding part of the film dragged the film enough for me to want to reach out and fast forward the film a little bit - and this comes from a guy whose seen his share of slow paced art films - Hong Sang-soo, anyone? The action picks up nicely enough in the 50-75% mark of the film, and it pays off.

Of course, there is the (almost compulsory in a Filipino Movie) blatant product placement scene: this time it's Globe, and it's no wonder considering Boy2 Quizon is that guy in the Globe commercials. You know, July? The assortment of accessory, cameo, or bit actors in this film is quite surprising - Richard Gomez, Boots Anson-Roa, Ara Mina, G Toengi, Richard Gutierrez and Ian Veneracion to name a few - proving that even after a six-year hiatus Peque Gallaga still has some considerable clout.

In closing, Pinoy Blonde is far from a masterpiece - yet among recent Filipino releases, it ends up as a mishmashed, intelligent, quirky little film, probably one of the best of the year, so far. It ultimately feels like Peque Gallaga's love song for Philippine Cinema, one that treats its subject matter in the Filipino way - that of hallowed reverence with a little bit of that trademark Filipino humor sprinkled in. Watch it. You may come out of it with something you never expected.

(note: this review is in the context of the fact that I've yet to see what may be another great Filipino Film this year - the digital filmAng Aking Pagkagising Mula sa Kamulatan, a film I've had two opportunities to see, but regrettably couldn't for various reasons.)

Beam Me Up, Scotty...

James Doohan (March 3, 1920 – July 20, 2005)
~In memoriam~


I have an action figure of Montgomery Scott as he appears in Star Trek: Generations. I'm pretty sure it's still in there somewhere. I even got a Next Generation engineering playset to put him in, even if it is mismatched. As a kid, I imagined Scotty working the engineering section of the Enterprise tirelessly, managing a clever concoction of juryrigged circuitry and wires against all odds.

The man's performances always affected me somehow. When he bumped his head in ST V, that scene cracked me up. When he reminisced in Relics, or when he lost one of his crew in ST II, I felt for the guy. He was a terribly underused actor, as the curse of typecasting enveloped most of the Original Series cast. But he was a good actor, and he brought the characters he portrayed to life.

He helped a lot of fans and was an inspiration to many. It may sound cliche but many people's lives were changed because of that little science fiction show we call Star Trek, and he helped shape it. He was a joy to fans, and was considered one of the nicest TOS cast members. He never tired of that old line, "Beam Me Up, Scotty;" he said that it always made him happy somehow.

He lived the last years of his life battling with Alzheimers disease, and he said goodbye to the public life last year, flanked by fellow cast members and fans alike, a star on the Hollywood walk of fame his parting gift.

He's gone now, to some other place in the stars, or probably beyond it, hopefully not trapped in some transporter feedback loop like in that TNG episode, but riding along in some starship, boldly going where none of us has gone before.

Rest in peace.

Cute Girls and Samurai Swords

Aya Ueto.

I'd love to plaster this entry with pictures of Aya Ueto, pretty Japanese idol singer/model/actress (and a decent one at that!), but I don't have the bandwidth to do it. Anyway, today we'll be talking about two movies where she starred in. Two movies that had her slash her way through a good number of gentlemen. What am I talking about?



Azumi, of course. (I don't see her slashing people in, say, Install, do you?.) Based on Yu Koyama's manga, it's about this orphaned girl who was trained from a young age to kill people. Her trainer was a battle-hardened samurai who wanted wars and stuff to end, because his son got killed in one skirmish. Along with a number of other youths like her, Azumi's first mission is to kill three feudal lords. When the three lords are dead, the Tokugawa, the clan Azumi is working for, will gain absolute power on all Japan.

For such a movie with the potential for loads of action, who better to choose than Ryuhei Kitamura? The man behind the cult hit Versus can do a film like this - and he does it in style, with all the markings of his trademark filmmaking style - fast shots, twirling camerawork, over-the-topness galore, blood and gore everywhere. The sheer number of dead bodies surpasses the body counts in Kill Bill volumes one and two combined. Not to mention that the person doing all the killing is ironically (?) cute. There's nothing that beats the orgasmic feeling of seeing this person flip back her cloak with flair and draw her sword while rushing towards 200 bad guys. Mad propz goes to Jo Odagiri for his portrayal of Bijomaru, an effeminate, psychotic swordfighter who enjoys nothing more than fighting and killing.

There are a few problems, though. Aya Ueto, as cute as she is, does not fully convince me of her skill with the sword, especially in the last climactic battle with one gazillion people. It kinda detracted from the scene as a whole. I wish there were more effects like people getting their hands sliced off or something.

That's probably the only major thing I can think of. There isn't anything arty or heavy-handed here, it's just a crazy little chambara film that manages to entertain for 2 hours.

But the story doesn't end here yet. By the end of Azumi the mission isn't over, not by a long shot, and that leads us to...



Azumi 2: Death or Love

This was one of the most anticipated action movies of the year, and while it delivers to some extent, it isn't without its flaws. Firstly it suffers a bit without the direction of Ryuhei Kitamura. It doesn't have that flair the first movie had. The direction of the movie went into the capable hands of Shusuke Kaneko, veteran director whose works include some movies in the Gamera series. Kaneko handles the film well, but that flair, well, it's gone.

Chiaki Kuriyama almost steals the spotlight as Kozue, as she tries to out-cute her fellow actress and does a really nice performance. Aya Ueto is a bit thinner this time around. Has she lost weight? She also manages to give a more convincing fighting performance this time, probably due to the different nature of the fights.

This movie focuses more on the characters of the story and continues some of the estabilshed themes in the first Azumi, although that may not be as evident as it should be. This is, after all, an action movie in essence.

There was also something else missing from this one - a sountrack worthy of the first one. The soundtrack for the first Azumi was pounding, desperate, exciting - and it helped push forward the narrative. After seeing this one I asked myself where the soundtrack was. I can't even remember one musical phrase used in the movie.

All in all, this is a great way to spend a weekend afternoon with your buddies. If not for the action, then at least for Aya Ueto. Well, if you dig her killing people with the blood of her dead enemies splattered on her face. Hehe.

Way of the Champloo

I've been watching this brilliant little anime series for the past two weeks or so (I'm currently on episode 16, and a few snatches of the ending), and so far, the general consensus is: it kicks major amounts of ass. Directed by Shinichiro Watanabe, many immediately compare it to one of the greatest anime series of all time, Cowboy Bebop.

I don't believe in choosing one of the two series and saying it's better; it is exactly the differences between the two series that makes each better. Otherwise, we would just have another Bebop clone. I'll just say they both kick ass.

Champloo is a mishmash (hence the name, which comes from the Okinawan word for stir-fry) of different things, anachronisms (Champloo has things from our present in a past setting, whereas Bebop has things from our present in a future setting)and sensibilities that we would never think would work at first glance... but they do!

Rapping peasants, breakdancing samurai, it all works so well, strangely enough.

And so, 10 reasons why this series rocks:

1. The vibe. This series just has a strange cool vibe that Bebop had, only this time it comes in a different flavor. When you see the trio walk around the towns and cities of Japan, when you see them fighting, it's damn cool.

2. It pulls no punches. Aah, just see the endings for episode 2 and 4 for examples. I don't want to spoil ya or anything.

3. The fights. The fight in episode 1 between Jin and Mugen, short as it was, was amazing. And that's just episode 1. AND, they say that the fights after episode 17 are even better.

4. It is one of the very, very few samurai-related anime that doesn't have overly supernatural overtones, "fighting" that isn't fun, or no spurts of blood gushing out from people. One of the other examples of this is the first Ruroni Kenshin OVA.

5. The ensemble cast. Champloo is about the three main characters, that is, there isn't really one central focus in the film (so far) There are stories for Mugen, stories for Jin, stories for Fuu throughout the series, kinda like in Bebop.

6. It doesn't end in the middle. The one pitfall with manga-based anime series is that some series end at the end of a manga storyline, leaving us endlessly wondering what the hell is going to happen. Karekano and Slam Dunk are two notorious examples. Although the ending for Champloo isn't that final, it does end nicely and gives a little potential for something a little extra.

7. Ninjas and Pirates. anything that has ninjas and pirates in it has to be cool.

8. Replayability Factor. All of the great anime series I've watched has a quality of replayability that makes you watch the episodes again and again until you've memorized all the lines by heart. Evangelion and Bebop are examples.

9. I don't want it to end. I like this series so much I kinda have apprehensions in confronting the last episodes. It's like saying goodbye to a very cherished friend.

10. It is a clear, and cool, homage to all those Jidaigeki/Chambara films from the forties to the seventies. I've seen bits of Yojimbo and Zatoichi in there. Both of those films kicked major amounts of ass - which translates over here.

Overall, I highly recommend this series to everyone. Watch it, NOWNOWNOW! Don't walk, run! And if you're in jail, break out...