now at lumiere.net.nz
Dailies (DVD)—August 2007
A roundup/recap of the current best and rest in DVD. In this installment: Seijun Suzuki x4 (Youth of the Beast, A Tattooed Life, Tokyo Drifter, Branded to Kill); Curse of the Golden Flower, The Good German, Far From Heaven, Two-Lane Blacktop, Like Minds.
Youth of the Beast, A Tattooed Life, Tokyo Drifter,
Branded to Kill (Gamewizz/Madman, $24.95 each)
An incorrigible visualist, exhibitionist, and purveyor of gangland pulp, Seijun Suzuki’s images cut like razors, scarring the face of conservative cinema. A hired hand under the Nikkatsu studio system, he crafted benign genre templates into fevered, miniature masterpieces; hand grenades launched from the comfort of the director’s chair. Much like his American peer Samuel Fuller, Suzuki’s renegade streak was hard to contain; insubordinate, he was eventually fired upon completion of Branded to Kill – a remarkable broadside to end his studio career, given the blaring, garish visuals he had cultivated up until that point were dampened to a muted, but no less exhilarating high-contrast of black and white. Curated by Criterion abroad, Madman import four of Suzuki’s key Nikkatsu B-pictures minus the impeccable presentation, but with the right attitude and taste for lurid delight (although we’re yet to see the sweaty Gate of Flesh). Primarily Yakuza tales starring the swaggering Jo Shishido (whose trademark cheek implants give him the facial character of Humphrey Bogart), A Tattooed Life remains the quartet’s one departure point into a period milieu, though shares a similarly astonishing finale with Tokyo Drifter, where samurai swords substitute for the latter’s blazoned pistol opera. While those films marked the height of Suzuki’s insolence, Youth of the Beast can be considered his early breakthrough, a yakuza turf war with Shishido as a thug insurgent in the thick of it. Boasting pungent pastels, point blank violence and a complete mastery of the Nikkatsu-scope, it’s a genre thrashing that’s notable for several odd touches: an inventive splashing of colour throughout black and white sequences, and a reoccurring phone fetish that gives lip service to some of the coolest rotary dials this side of Antiques Roadshow. There’s also several great scenes staged in a loft above a movie theatre – a setting duplicated in Kaizo Hayashi’s free-jazz homage to Suzuki and other yakuza exponents of the era, The Most Terrible Time in My Life. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; vintage trailers; stills galleries).—Tim Wong
Curse of the Golden Flower (Sony, $39.95)
Artful blood splatter and the clash of steel — the richness and detail of Zhang Yimou images command. Curse of the Golden Flower is Zhang’s third take on the Chinese epic known as wu xia. Yimou trades his muse Ziyi for similarly lovely bomb Gong Li. It’s the first time the Yimou-Li duo, former lovers, have got back together since their 1995 break-up. Li’s Queen is the centre of Curse’s whirl of silk, ceremony, chaos and intrigue. “Do you know what is wrong with mother?” one of her sons asks. Zhang retains Daggers’ cinematographer Xiaoding Zhao. His extravagant images waver between the kitsch and the beautiful. Thousands of chrysanthemums power a few shots. Li’s spectacular costumes are cut undersized. Dappled light streaming across her face, Li is the Thurman to Zhang’s Tarantino. The regal Yimou, who staged Puccini’s opera Turandot in Florence and Beijing’s Forbidden City, can sense the operatic. He almost loses control of his computer with some grandiose, cold battle scenes. There are some scorchers though, as when the ninjas abseil towards the doctor’s compound. The movie mostly succeeds (often by the skin of its silk), but it rarely seduces. Riding Alone For Thousands of Miles was so terrifically intimate and moving. For all its fulsome motion, Curse touches much less. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; special features TBC).
The Good German (Warner Bros, $34.95)
Ah, those cheekbones. Scrupulously lit and elegantly shot in dappled chiaroscuro, Lena Brandt’s face appeals. Brandt (Cate Blanchett) is a complicated, comely Berlin prostitute. Cynical war correspondent Jake Geismar (George Clooney), the Humphrey Bogart to Blanchett’s Ingrid Bergman, comes back to Berlin ostensibly to cover World War Two’s climactic Potsdam Conference. It’s the girl he’s after. She’s fallen on hard times since he’s been gone, and is now tied up with a young louse Tully (Toby Maguire). The pacing’s pokey, but Paul Attanasio crafts a dose of snappy, cynical one-liners, finessed by Clooney’s delivery. “Millions of people didn’t disappear because the elves came out at night.” The Good German is Soderbergh’s homage to classics like The Third Man and Casablanca, particularly the genre you might term noirish war. Lots of things work, but as a whole this cheeky movie doesn’t quite. It’s not without its charms, albeit more interesting than involving. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; no special features). [Full Review]
Far From Heaven (Warner Bros, $39.95)
Frank (Dennis Quaid) and Cathy Whitaker (the luminous Julianne Moore) are perfect all-American citizens circa 1950s. He’s a suave TV executive; she’s a mother, housewife and socialite. But, Frank is homosexual and the era’s homophobic. “I can’t let this thing destroy my life. It’s despicable,” he seeks heterosexual conversion treatment. Cathy spirals out of control, into confusion and grief. This is so shocking that she can’t tell her best friend Eleanor (a delightfully bitchy, funny Patricia Clarkson). She finds solace in a platonic relationship with her black gardener Raymond (Dennis Haysbert). Cue more scandal. “Sometimes it’s the people outside our world we confide in best,” Raymond eloquently says. Haynes homages Golden Age melodrama a la Douglas Sirk. Himself gay, Haynes cogently attacks prejudice and bourgeois banality. Ed Lachman’s cascading autumnal cinematography is heightened by Elmer Bernstein’s stunningly lush score. In his lucid commentary, Haynes points out how Far From Heaven bristles with period vernacular. Far from heaven this people are; far from heaven this film is not. A penetrating critique of 50s America, Far From Heaven’s microcosm reflects on our society. The chick flick as art, it resonates cinematic and emotional truth. (optional English subtitles; director’s commentary; making-of documentary; various featurettes; trailers + extra stuff).
BRIEFLY: Fuck (Roadshow, $29.95) is a well enjoyable “fuckumentary” about the F-word. Possibly the funniest, most subversive documentary I have seen this year. Hilarious footage of Dick Cheney, Pat Boone (versus Ice T) and other American conservatives being idiots. The piece de resistance is the German Janet Jackson. The Sopranos: Season Six, Part 1 (Warner Bros, $79.95) continues this cracking good series stylishly, and effortlessly justifies its salty language. Deadwood: The Complete Third Season (Paramount/RS, $59.95) contains relentless usage of the word fuck. I’m not convinced, but I haven’t given up. Shortbus (Hopscotch/RS, $34.95) begins with a gay guy fellating himself and ejaculating into his own mouth. That sums up its boorish, pessimistic self-indulgence. Andrew Denton’s TV documentary God on My Side (Roadshow, $29.95), set at America’s Gaylord Convention Centre, is an interesting companion piece to the frightening, hilarious Jesus Camp. The Black Dahlia (Roadshow, $34.95) is direct-to-DVD in New Zealand. Well I ain’t surprised. Sub-par work from Aaron Eckhart, Scar Jo and Brian de Palma in this inert version of reel Hollywood murder and intrigue. “I was adored once, too” goes that great Twelfth Night (BBC/RS, $19.95) line; but from memory this BBC adaptation is rather stolid. Why aren’t more no-budget indies like the witty, touching Mutual Appreciation (Accent/RS, $24.95)?—Alexander Bisley
Two-Lane Blacktop (Gamewizz/Umbrella, $19.95)
A standout cult classic which emerged from beneath the 70s New Hollywood era, under-utilised director Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane Blacktop is the definitive road movie all others try to approximate. Lacking the pretension present in much existential cinematic exposition, this is movie-making as accessible as it is enigmatic. Two seldom-spoken friends drive from town to town in a life which revolves around their car – a faded black, home-worked 55 Chevy. Along their journey they pick up a girl and encounter another (lone) driver who draws them into a cross-continent challenge; racing along, the now famous, Route 66 interstate highway with the pink slip (title) of their respective cars as the prize. This nothing plot is at once arbitrary and vital. The ensuing race never actually finishes and the point becomes the journey itself and the contrast of the characters who are taking it. A brooding, dark-haired James Taylor as “The Driver” – with his dark looks and surliness – alongside Dennis Wilson’s even-tempered blond “Mechanic” – all ‘take life as it comes’ pragmatism – join with the Warren Oates’ ageing, tale-spinning “GTO” and the never-ending American landscape to provide the character framework for a filmic exploration of differing philosophical approaches to life. Hellman’s mastery is in his economy: of dialogue, of colour and action, of people and place. He uses physical location as a character, building mood and flow essential to the movie as purposefully and effectively as he does with the actors. Open skies, unending roads, dusty towns, parochial roadside diners, and fume-filled racetracks all work on the contrasting psyches of our quartet of protagonists and Hellman captures this without having to verbally explain it. By these means he directs our thoughts toward our grasp on our own (everyday) lives. What is it we are in search of? What are we trying to achieve? Will we find meaning there, or is the meaning to be found in our attempts? Whatever the answers, Two-Lane is a truly enjoyable way to have these questions posed and is a thrilling cinematic ride. New to DVD. (audio commentary w/ Monte Hellman and Gary Hurtz; retrospective documentary; featurettes on Hellman and the Road Movie).—Jacob Powell [Full Review]
Like Minds (Magna Pacific, $19.95)
A tale of grim teen hegemony, murder, secret societies and historical fervor: Like Minds is a sort of emo-kid utopia inhabiting a Da Vinci Code world. The esoteric plot of this physiological-thriller, a debut feature from writer-director Gregory J. Read, hinges on the investigation of 17-year-old Alex Forbes, who has been charged with the death of schoolmate Nigel. Detective McKenzine (Richard Roxburgh) appoints forensic physiologist Sally Rowe (Toni Collette) to determine whether sufficient evidence exists to find Alex guilty. Building on this intriguing prelude, the film flashes back to examine the troubled relationship between boarding school roommates Alex and Nigel, and their unhealthy obsession with dissecting animals, incest, the 13th-century Cathars, Knights Templar and gestalt philosophy. That these outlandish factors don’t come off as entirely-farcical is testament to Read’s taught screenplay, and the compelling performances of Eddie Redmayne (as Alex) and Tom Sturridge (Nigel). Meanwhile, Richard Roxburgh and Toni Collette – both Australian acting mainstays – are at ease, if somewhat unspectacular, in their roles as British cops. Shot primarily on gothic locations in Yorkshire, northeast England, the film’s atmosphere and stylised cinematography is suitably sinister. A terrific score from Carlo Giacco compounds the sense of menace, suggesting truly dark deeds on the horizon. Like Minds’ final sequence – a gathering of its many threads – does descend into clichéd thriller territory, however the film’s conclusion is agreeably haunting. A fascinating and refreshingly unique alternative to the current crop of Australian films. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; director’s commentary).—Caleb Starrenburg [Full Review]
* * *
Youth of the Beast, A Tattooed Life, Tokyo Drifter,Branded to Kill (Gamewizz/Madman, $24.95 each)
An incorrigible visualist, exhibitionist, and purveyor of gangland pulp, Seijun Suzuki’s images cut like razors, scarring the face of conservative cinema. A hired hand under the Nikkatsu studio system, he crafted benign genre templates into fevered, miniature masterpieces; hand grenades launched from the comfort of the director’s chair. Much like his American peer Samuel Fuller, Suzuki’s renegade streak was hard to contain; insubordinate, he was eventually fired upon completion of Branded to Kill – a remarkable broadside to end his studio career, given the blaring, garish visuals he had cultivated up until that point were dampened to a muted, but no less exhilarating high-contrast of black and white. Curated by Criterion abroad, Madman import four of Suzuki’s key Nikkatsu B-pictures minus the impeccable presentation, but with the right attitude and taste for lurid delight (although we’re yet to see the sweaty Gate of Flesh). Primarily Yakuza tales starring the swaggering Jo Shishido (whose trademark cheek implants give him the facial character of Humphrey Bogart), A Tattooed Life remains the quartet’s one departure point into a period milieu, though shares a similarly astonishing finale with Tokyo Drifter, where samurai swords substitute for the latter’s blazoned pistol opera. While those films marked the height of Suzuki’s insolence, Youth of the Beast can be considered his early breakthrough, a yakuza turf war with Shishido as a thug insurgent in the thick of it. Boasting pungent pastels, point blank violence and a complete mastery of the Nikkatsu-scope, it’s a genre thrashing that’s notable for several odd touches: an inventive splashing of colour throughout black and white sequences, and a reoccurring phone fetish that gives lip service to some of the coolest rotary dials this side of Antiques Roadshow. There’s also several great scenes staged in a loft above a movie theatre – a setting duplicated in Kaizo Hayashi’s free-jazz homage to Suzuki and other yakuza exponents of the era, The Most Terrible Time in My Life. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; vintage trailers; stills galleries).—Tim Wong
* * *
Curse of the Golden Flower (Sony, $39.95) Artful blood splatter and the clash of steel — the richness and detail of Zhang Yimou images command. Curse of the Golden Flower is Zhang’s third take on the Chinese epic known as wu xia. Yimou trades his muse Ziyi for similarly lovely bomb Gong Li. It’s the first time the Yimou-Li duo, former lovers, have got back together since their 1995 break-up. Li’s Queen is the centre of Curse’s whirl of silk, ceremony, chaos and intrigue. “Do you know what is wrong with mother?” one of her sons asks. Zhang retains Daggers’ cinematographer Xiaoding Zhao. His extravagant images waver between the kitsch and the beautiful. Thousands of chrysanthemums power a few shots. Li’s spectacular costumes are cut undersized. Dappled light streaming across her face, Li is the Thurman to Zhang’s Tarantino. The regal Yimou, who staged Puccini’s opera Turandot in Florence and Beijing’s Forbidden City, can sense the operatic. He almost loses control of his computer with some grandiose, cold battle scenes. There are some scorchers though, as when the ninjas abseil towards the doctor’s compound. The movie mostly succeeds (often by the skin of its silk), but it rarely seduces. Riding Alone For Thousands of Miles was so terrifically intimate and moving. For all its fulsome motion, Curse touches much less. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; special features TBC).
The Good German (Warner Bros, $34.95) Ah, those cheekbones. Scrupulously lit and elegantly shot in dappled chiaroscuro, Lena Brandt’s face appeals. Brandt (Cate Blanchett) is a complicated, comely Berlin prostitute. Cynical war correspondent Jake Geismar (George Clooney), the Humphrey Bogart to Blanchett’s Ingrid Bergman, comes back to Berlin ostensibly to cover World War Two’s climactic Potsdam Conference. It’s the girl he’s after. She’s fallen on hard times since he’s been gone, and is now tied up with a young louse Tully (Toby Maguire). The pacing’s pokey, but Paul Attanasio crafts a dose of snappy, cynical one-liners, finessed by Clooney’s delivery. “Millions of people didn’t disappear because the elves came out at night.” The Good German is Soderbergh’s homage to classics like The Third Man and Casablanca, particularly the genre you might term noirish war. Lots of things work, but as a whole this cheeky movie doesn’t quite. It’s not without its charms, albeit more interesting than involving. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; no special features). [Full Review]
Far From Heaven (Warner Bros, $39.95) Frank (Dennis Quaid) and Cathy Whitaker (the luminous Julianne Moore) are perfect all-American citizens circa 1950s. He’s a suave TV executive; she’s a mother, housewife and socialite. But, Frank is homosexual and the era’s homophobic. “I can’t let this thing destroy my life. It’s despicable,” he seeks heterosexual conversion treatment. Cathy spirals out of control, into confusion and grief. This is so shocking that she can’t tell her best friend Eleanor (a delightfully bitchy, funny Patricia Clarkson). She finds solace in a platonic relationship with her black gardener Raymond (Dennis Haysbert). Cue more scandal. “Sometimes it’s the people outside our world we confide in best,” Raymond eloquently says. Haynes homages Golden Age melodrama a la Douglas Sirk. Himself gay, Haynes cogently attacks prejudice and bourgeois banality. Ed Lachman’s cascading autumnal cinematography is heightened by Elmer Bernstein’s stunningly lush score. In his lucid commentary, Haynes points out how Far From Heaven bristles with period vernacular. Far from heaven this people are; far from heaven this film is not. A penetrating critique of 50s America, Far From Heaven’s microcosm reflects on our society. The chick flick as art, it resonates cinematic and emotional truth. (optional English subtitles; director’s commentary; making-of documentary; various featurettes; trailers + extra stuff).
BRIEFLY: Fuck (Roadshow, $29.95) is a well enjoyable “fuckumentary” about the F-word. Possibly the funniest, most subversive documentary I have seen this year. Hilarious footage of Dick Cheney, Pat Boone (versus Ice T) and other American conservatives being idiots. The piece de resistance is the German Janet Jackson. The Sopranos: Season Six, Part 1 (Warner Bros, $79.95) continues this cracking good series stylishly, and effortlessly justifies its salty language. Deadwood: The Complete Third Season (Paramount/RS, $59.95) contains relentless usage of the word fuck. I’m not convinced, but I haven’t given up. Shortbus (Hopscotch/RS, $34.95) begins with a gay guy fellating himself and ejaculating into his own mouth. That sums up its boorish, pessimistic self-indulgence. Andrew Denton’s TV documentary God on My Side (Roadshow, $29.95), set at America’s Gaylord Convention Centre, is an interesting companion piece to the frightening, hilarious Jesus Camp. The Black Dahlia (Roadshow, $34.95) is direct-to-DVD in New Zealand. Well I ain’t surprised. Sub-par work from Aaron Eckhart, Scar Jo and Brian de Palma in this inert version of reel Hollywood murder and intrigue. “I was adored once, too” goes that great Twelfth Night (BBC/RS, $19.95) line; but from memory this BBC adaptation is rather stolid. Why aren’t more no-budget indies like the witty, touching Mutual Appreciation (Accent/RS, $24.95)?—Alexander Bisley
* * *
Two-Lane Blacktop (Gamewizz/Umbrella, $19.95)A standout cult classic which emerged from beneath the 70s New Hollywood era, under-utilised director Monte Hellman’s Two-Lane Blacktop is the definitive road movie all others try to approximate. Lacking the pretension present in much existential cinematic exposition, this is movie-making as accessible as it is enigmatic. Two seldom-spoken friends drive from town to town in a life which revolves around their car – a faded black, home-worked 55 Chevy. Along their journey they pick up a girl and encounter another (lone) driver who draws them into a cross-continent challenge; racing along, the now famous, Route 66 interstate highway with the pink slip (title) of their respective cars as the prize. This nothing plot is at once arbitrary and vital. The ensuing race never actually finishes and the point becomes the journey itself and the contrast of the characters who are taking it. A brooding, dark-haired James Taylor as “The Driver” – with his dark looks and surliness – alongside Dennis Wilson’s even-tempered blond “Mechanic” – all ‘take life as it comes’ pragmatism – join with the Warren Oates’ ageing, tale-spinning “GTO” and the never-ending American landscape to provide the character framework for a filmic exploration of differing philosophical approaches to life. Hellman’s mastery is in his economy: of dialogue, of colour and action, of people and place. He uses physical location as a character, building mood and flow essential to the movie as purposefully and effectively as he does with the actors. Open skies, unending roads, dusty towns, parochial roadside diners, and fume-filled racetracks all work on the contrasting psyches of our quartet of protagonists and Hellman captures this without having to verbally explain it. By these means he directs our thoughts toward our grasp on our own (everyday) lives. What is it we are in search of? What are we trying to achieve? Will we find meaning there, or is the meaning to be found in our attempts? Whatever the answers, Two-Lane is a truly enjoyable way to have these questions posed and is a thrilling cinematic ride. New to DVD. (audio commentary w/ Monte Hellman and Gary Hurtz; retrospective documentary; featurettes on Hellman and the Road Movie).—Jacob Powell [Full Review]
Like Minds (Magna Pacific, $19.95)A tale of grim teen hegemony, murder, secret societies and historical fervor: Like Minds is a sort of emo-kid utopia inhabiting a Da Vinci Code world. The esoteric plot of this physiological-thriller, a debut feature from writer-director Gregory J. Read, hinges on the investigation of 17-year-old Alex Forbes, who has been charged with the death of schoolmate Nigel. Detective McKenzine (Richard Roxburgh) appoints forensic physiologist Sally Rowe (Toni Collette) to determine whether sufficient evidence exists to find Alex guilty. Building on this intriguing prelude, the film flashes back to examine the troubled relationship between boarding school roommates Alex and Nigel, and their unhealthy obsession with dissecting animals, incest, the 13th-century Cathars, Knights Templar and gestalt philosophy. That these outlandish factors don’t come off as entirely-farcical is testament to Read’s taught screenplay, and the compelling performances of Eddie Redmayne (as Alex) and Tom Sturridge (Nigel). Meanwhile, Richard Roxburgh and Toni Collette – both Australian acting mainstays – are at ease, if somewhat unspectacular, in their roles as British cops. Shot primarily on gothic locations in Yorkshire, northeast England, the film’s atmosphere and stylised cinematography is suitably sinister. A terrific score from Carlo Giacco compounds the sense of menace, suggesting truly dark deeds on the horizon. Like Minds’ final sequence – a gathering of its many threads – does descend into clichéd thriller territory, however the film’s conclusion is agreeably haunting. A fascinating and refreshingly unique alternative to the current crop of Australian films. New to DVD. (optional English subtitles; director’s commentary).—Caleb Starrenburg [Full Review]
