cvm-jpfilm

[cvm-jpfilm]

Wow I could make out that when they spoke of the spirits, that they really meant the kami of Shinto but you've really nailed the influences. The film's physical separation of the real world and the spirit world along with the spiritual separation between humans and kami show the disconnect that modern Japan has to its cultural roots. The spirit world's resident's hatred for humans demonstrate the incompatibility and resentment of nature and cultural figures for being forgotten by people. Not only is this plain to see with Okusare-sama through pollution, but also Haku. As we find out, Haku was a river spirit whose river was buried underground by people. There's also the parental theming present in this film like you said. But it's not just Yubaba and Chihiro's parents, but also Zeniba too. Zeniba's role in the film is to serve as the healthy balance of protective and nurturing but also hands-off and trusting.

Spirited Away by Hayao Miyazaki

Released in 2001, Spirited Away is a Studio Ghibli film directed by Hayao Miyazaki. It's a masterpiece with beautiful world-building, stunning visuals, and enchanting music, making it enjoyable no matter how many times you watch it. It's my favorite among Ghibli's works, and upon watching it again after a long time, I made many discoveries.

The scenes I particularly love feature Kamaji, the boiler man, and the spirit resembling a white radish, known as Oshira-sama. Kamaji treats and says Chihiro like his granddaughter, protects her, gives her train tickets, tucks Haku into a futon, and even sits beside him until he wakes up. He's a warm and endearing grandfatherly figure. Oshira-sama doesn't speak but protects Chihiro. Modeled after a deity worshipped in the Tohoku region known for its fondness for children, Oshira-sama likely protected Chihiro due to this characteristic.

Another scene I adore is when the transformed Bo, a mouse, reenacts the scene of "えんがちょ / Put your thumbs and forefingers Together! Evil be gone!” with the soot sprites, which is cute and charming. Also, the meticulous attention to detail in the film, like the sign at the izakaya run by spirits saying "おいでおいでおいで… / Come, come, come…” or the ledger-like characters on the bathhouse walls such as “葬儀 / funeral", “大入 / big entrance”, and “貸借 / lending and borrowing”, adds to its allure.

The character of the River Spirit, Okusare-sama, being polluted by humans also serves as a critique of modern society. Furthermore, elements of Buddhism are incorporated alongside Shintoism, as seen with the “中道 / middle path" inscription on the train and the reference to the sixth station, indicating a blend of spiritual themes.

The opening scenes, with numerous houses of gods and a torii gate, suggest that the world Chihiro stumbles into is that of the gods. The bathhouse run by Yubaba is said to be a place where the Yorozu no kami come to relax from their daily fatigue, though it's speculated to possibly be a brothel. In the movie, when night falls, the bathhouse becomes brightly lit and bustling, reminiscent of a lively night city street. Many kami visit, and within the private baths, women attendants wash their bodies of them. In the morning, those descending from the sleeping quarters are with women. Some women are wearing revealing clothing. The clientele, who are gods, are male, as indicated by the blue color of the curtains bearing the character for “湯 / hot water". Employees have their names taken away and are given pseudonyms, a characteristic of brothels. Also, the blackened newt is an aphrodisiac, and this is implied in the film like Rin's blushing cheeks when Kamaji gives it to her and the frog's demanding for it. The presence of the term “回春 / revitalization" and the shadow on the upper floor when Chihiro and Oshira-sama ride the elevator further support this interpretation.

Losing one's name also acts as a constraint to keep individuals in the bathhouse. Not only employees are taken by their name, but also they lose their original clothes, shoes, and even their scent by consuming the food of that world, essentially losing their identity. To return to the original world, they must remember their name, and their identity, a task made difficult as they forget it while working there. Chihiro quickly forgets her real name, unable to recall it. Rin and Haku are also among those who have lost their true names and selves, forcing them to work under Yubaba. Therefore, Haku and the Susuwatari were hiding Chihiro's clothes, shoes, and belongings to help her return to the original world. By the way, Rin, despite her feminine appearance, exhibits many masculine traits such as speech patterns and using “俺" (a masculine pronoun), suggesting she embodies both male and female characteristics, leading me to believe she's a white fox possessing elements of both genders.

No-face represents a lack of identity, devoid of facial expressions or speech, with its name likely derived from its appearance. Not being invited by the bathhouse and merely brought by Chihiro, it's not considered a god. Considering that no one else besides Chihiro could see him at first, it's possible that the reason he was so attached to her and eager to help her was that she was the first person to notice him, and that brought him joy. Perhaps that's why he became angry and consumed the frog who mocked Chihiro. He likely yearned to be noticed by someone and to fulfill the expectations of those around him, as he seemed to lack a sense of self. So perhaps he became a valued customer at the bathhouse by eating a lot of food, as desired by the employees, and settled into a role of calmly assisting under Zeniba's care. He seems to have inherited the voice, mannerisms, and hairstyle of the person he merged with. It's akin to how humans can exhibit vastly different traits and personalities depending on whom they spend time with.

Moreover, Chihiro undergoes significant growth throughout the narrative. Initially portrayed as a timid girl unable to write her name correctly or descend stairs, she gradually becomes fearless and adaptable, overcoming her fears and bravely facing challenges. There's also a theory suggesting not only psychological but also physical growth, namely, the onset of menstruation, is implied. Chihiro's age as an elementary school student is evident from the scene with her parents at the beginning, making her age fitting for such a milestone. Also, when Chihiro decides to work at the bathhouse, she clutches her stomach and crouches down, complaining of feeling unwell. Later, unable to sleep, she trembles while lying down in the morning. From that point on, Chihiro becomes braver than before. Considering the narrative as a depiction of Chihiro's growth as a young girl, it's highly probable that Miyazaki intended such implications.

The film depicts contrasting parent-child relationships, too. Chihiro and her mother's relationship feels notably cold compared to other Ghibli films. Her mother shows little warmth towards Chihiro, not even looking at her or matching her pace while walking. She seems indifferent to Chihiro's fears, telling her to wait alone in the car or don't walk close together. In particular, it feels unsettling or unusual to see Chihiro's mother show neither concern nor assistance towards Chihiro, who had almost drowned when she was younger, as they cross the river, especially considering her worried demeanor towards her curious father. Observing the mother smiling and embracing the father suggests that the mother's behavior seems cold only towards Chihiro, rather than being her inherent personality. Also, Chihiro is depicted as a skinny girl and you can see her struggles to carry coal from Yubaba's remarks. From those scenes, the neglect or lack of concern for her by the mother is apparent. In contrast, Yubaba and Boh are portrayed as an overprotective mother and a pampered son. Yubaba overly coddles Boh, using baby talk and sheltering him from the outside world, indicating an unhealthy level of parental indulgence even though he is big enough and able to speak. It's like watching a grown-up who remains childish inside and a mother who continues to baby her child even as he grows older. However, while Chihiro can recognize her parents even in their transformed pig forms, Yubaba fails to notice Boh transformed into a mouse, insults the mouse, and fails to realize the existence of the fake Boh for a while. Both sets of parents exhibit distorted forms of love, with neither seeming genuinely caring about their children. However, both Chihiro and Boh mature by venturing into the outside world and gaining experiences.

When Chihiro and her parents return to the real world at the story's end, her parents have lost their memories. Her mother repeats the same lines she said upon entering the tunnel-like gate as if nothing had happened. Yet, their car is covered in dust and grass, indicating a significant passage of time. The gate's color has changed as well. Also, the hair tie made by her friends glows. All of those elements confirm that Chihiro's experiences were not a dream but a reality.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Miyazaki - Spirited Away

I could go on about how beautiful this movie looks but yeah I just love it. I was actually quite taken aback by the direction of the voice acting during the beginning of the movie. The choice to have human characters speak in a normal and realistic intonation really contrasted well with the otherworldly and stereotypical anime voice acting of the spirits and witches.

Well, this definitely has to be the biggest criticism of capitalism we have seen in a film thus far. It's actually quite surprising how Miyazaki borrows from the j-horror genre to deliver the themes of the film. I'm talking of course about the use of the otherworld and the past. When you think of j-horror, it's usually something from the past coming to intrude upon the present, and it is quite prominent that it takes the form of yokai and kami to remind modern Japan of its cultural past. But what does the spirits comment about the past and modernity? I caught on to this very early on but the father makes a mention that the gate to the spirit world must have been an abandoned amusement park.

I thought that was oddly specific, so I already was on the lookout for something that the movie thinks Japan has forgotten. Furthermore, the spirit world is a giant collage of old tradition too. The sanzu river and Enma's castle for example. The mention of the 90s also tipped me off: maybe it's about the lost decade. I think the movie's themes of over-reliance and growing up by one's self serve as a critique to the government's involve with the market and capitalistic habits.

[cvm-jpfilm]

I can't believe that I didn't catch the sukiyaki in the title to be a reference to be a reference to spaghetti westerns. But anyways, I do agree with your thoughts on the English in this movie. I like it, it's funny, and it is an interesting aspect of the cultural mix of this movie, but it takes me out of the movie too much. I felt like with a bit more effort in incorporating Japanese, English, and maybe even Japanglish into the movie, you could have had a Swallowtail Butterfly on our hands. That being said, the actors were all super charismatic and made it somewhat believable that they live in this blend of a world.

Sukiyaki Western Django

Sukiyaki Western Django is more or less what the title suggests, a mix between Japanese, American, and Italian cinema, making reference to the term “spaghetti western”, with a Japanese dish instead. The setting itself immediately portrays that effect, with the traditional western town in a more Japanese style, with a town gate and Japanese-style buildings. The opposing factions, very Shakespearean in nature, as the film blatantly draws our attention to, are both samurai and cowboy, with the costumes an eclectic mix of cowboy hats and katanas. I felt that all of the symbolism this movie used was forced into the viewers attention and explicitly explained, with the love between Shizuka and Akira being forbidden because of the war between factions, and Heihachi as the symbol of that mix, as well as the roses. The imposition of Japanese actors speaking English as well as the Shakespearean story on the general historical time period of the California gold rush is a very interesting one, as it both grounds the story in time, but also throws all chronology out of the window with how asynchronous all the moving parts are. I believe that this strange mix of so many different influences is meant to show just how diverse western films are. Popularized in Italy, based in America, and no shortage seen in various other parts of the world, the western genre exists in modern cinema much like how it is portrayed in this film.

While I appreciate the intent for all of the Japanese actors to speak English like in a traditional western, and that the fact they themselves do not speak the language ties into the point I just made, it was very hard to ignore. Because the actors don’t all speak the language, so much of the delivery in this film fell flat for me. The only moment in the film that I felt was expertly delivered and really filled me with the intended emotion was the scene when Shizuka witnesses Akira’s death. The actress really shines here, as her pained screams while Akira is comically unloaded into by Kiyomori, was a nice emotional break from the over-the-top, ridiculous action of the film. That was another aspect of the film that made it a very enjoyable, almost comical watch. I felt that a lot of the reason for this film, aside from the point about westerns I made, is for spectacle, and it sure delivers on that front. The ridiculous 2000’s era editing, combined with the impossible, yet hilarious, action stunts during fight sequences, to the grotesque gore in some scenes all combines for a visual treat that I haven’t seen in many movies. The perspective, however, of this kind of theme of the time period of the gold rush, as a Shakespearean bloodbath for reasons that become lost over time and transform into solely a war between factions, is an interesting one.

Overall, I’m not quite sure what to make of this movie, other than that it serves as what I assume is a bit of a love letter to western films, specifically in their diversity in the world of cinema. I also was not at all expecting Tarantino to show up, which was quite the surprise.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Miike - Sukiyaki Western Django

This movie honestly doesn't even feel real to be honest. Despite being a clear parody of western films, I truly didn't stop caring until Piringo shows up again in the movie. His reasoning for naming his son Akira really took me out of the movie. It's weird because although it's a parody, I was still engrossed in the movie until that line. I can't really tell if the movie wants to be serious or not, or if it even cares after that line.

So the movie draws two very obvious inspirations for it's setting, the Genpei War and western films. The Genpei War is something way too complicated to cover, but the movie tells us the important parts: two feuding clans, the Heike (also known as the Taira) and the Genji (also known as the Minamoto) clash for power over Japan. These clans originated from members of the imperial family, making them relatives actually. But history is wack, and after a couple of rebellions and plotting, the Genji win like in the film and the leader at the time, Yoritomo, became the first shogun. After that, I guess you could say it didn't matter what clan you belonged to like in the film, but the Genji really hit big as many of the influental clans from thereon would claim to be descended from the Genji. There wasn't a continuation to the feud like in the film, so that's where the pseudo-western Genpei sequel comes in. More importantly, most characters are actually named after important figures in the war. Yoshitsune is obvious, but Yoichi and Shizuka also take their names from historical figures. Particularly, I think Shizuka follows a similar fate to her historical counterpart, being a mistress to Yoshitsune and having her son taken from her and given to her mother.

The influence of the western film genre is also equally, if not more, important to the context of the film. The nameless cowboy is literally textbook western after all. However, it's not a traditional western story is it? I'd say Miike actually takes more inspiration from Spaghetti Westerns for the structure of the film. I think we may have covered it a bit but Spaghetti Westerns are European-made western films, named that way because they usually made by Italians. Spaghetti Westerns both are actual western films and take jabs at traditional tropes and structures. This movie takes this to the extreme while still sticking to the usual structure. The outsider comes in, saves the problem, the leaves. Also, Akira is later named Django, the name of many Spaghetti Western protagonists. Thinking about it now, the poor kid was known as the names of two influential film characters.

Although this one I'm not so sure about, I think the film is a commentary on young people/new generation's method of coping with hardship through coping. Throughout the film, we hear numerous times the quote of the Gion Shoja bells, which is a real quote from the Heike Monagatari, a epic telling of the Genpei war. Side note but for some reason MIT has an entire webpage dedicated to the quote: https://web.mit.edu/norvin/www/somethingelse/heike.html

Anyways, the important thing is that the quote notes how all things must one day pass, that even the strong will fall, and no pride or strength is meaningful against the power of time. Seems a bit sad at first, but I think both the quote and the film try to frame it in a hopeful note. Particularly at the end with the conversation between cowboy and Akira, I believe Akira is supposed to be a representation of the newer generation. Throughout hardship, he shuts himself out from the world to run away from the pain like many young people use escapism to cope (like the internet); he loses his voice at the horror of his father's murder, which could symbolize the death of the patriarchy a.k.a. collapse of traditional societal structure. The voice could also be a literal representation of people's ability to speak out about issues and change. The quote of the bells is then both speaking about the collapse of the things that came before and the maturation of the young into adulthood. But that it is also important that it is not without choice for that to happen.

Also i want to point out that he's taking a fistful of gold as a reward. Gold is money a.k.a. this is just a Fistful of Dollars reference.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Kawase - Sweet Bean

Pretty heartwarming story, I guess I'd say I like it but it is more like I don't dislike it. I think I now understand what Professor Smith meant by it being an award film, albeit in a different way. The specifics I'll get into in a bit but the film didn't really move me. I will say that the cinematography in this movie is beautiful, especially the color. The beautiful shades of green ang pink of the leaves of the trees shined against the blue clear skies.

The clear critique of this movie is Japan's treatment of disabled people, specifically those with Hansen's Disease. Right? I'd say not. Despite the fact that the film frames Tokue in a positive light. The film goes to great lengths to do so through the artisan's struggle. Such a large chunk of the movie is purely dedicated to just knowing how red bean paste is made and each shot is long and intimate with the process. Particularly the framing is great at depicting how lonesome these unconventional artisans are:

Sentaro is probably the one with the most shots like this, but we constantly see them alone, both finding a home in the other's company. However, when it comes to the critique of Japanese societal institutions, they are awfully light at that. We see the awful behavior of the gossiping landlord, but Sentaro is just forced to take it. We see Tokue's confined community, but not a single thing is said of it besides Tokue's wishes for freedom. It's almost like the film sidesteps actually addressing the elephant in the room.

On the other hand, I think a bigger focus on the film is instead purpose and freedom. Particularly, the three protagonists are all people who have failed to do their societal role. Tokue, an elderly diseased woman, wants to do strenuous work; Sentaro, an ex-convict, is working at a dorayaki shops despite not liking sweets; and Wakana, a child who has to provide for their parent and cannot go to school. These three are full of contradictions, and it is in to enjoy life despite their circumstances that they start finding meaning in their lives.

[cvm-jpfilm]

The characters' journeys to find companionship even in death is increasingly fitting in the modern age. I don't know if Kurosawa intended it, but he pretty accurately surmised that seeking companionship in death, the internet in this case, will separate you from those actually close to you and isolate you on the internet. Though I don't think Kurosawa is necessarily saying it is the fault of the internet that this is happening, but more so human tendency in already degrading social structures. If we embrace the internet as a safe haven to escape from life's troubles and ignore the pleas of help from these people, we'll find ourselves in a world where we are completely alone. I think the fact that one of the expositions mentions that the internet was merely the key to this phenomenon happening indicates that it could have been anything so long as it provides a medium for isolation.

Pulse

Pulse is a great and fascinating horror film. It is as frightening as it is haunting, with the story taking place during what is effectively the apocalypse. The film did an excellent job building tension and often had me on the edge of my seat while I was watching it. Although, there were scenes which made me laugh as well, especially scenes involving Ryosuke.

Pulse also contained very interesting cinematography, with many shots panning in unique and interesting ways. By utilizing these pans, Kiyoshi Kurosawa achieves various effects such as concealing certain facts from us until a later moment or emphasizing the separation between the characters. One shot that particularly comes to mind is when Yabe and Michi are talking, when suddenly the camera pans to the left revealing their boss is present as well.

The film’s overarching narrative has many elements that deserve their own exploration, but some of the most prominent messages are the fear of technology, loneliness, and how technology can make us lonely. Through the exploration of these topics, Kurosawa looks into some of the challenges society faces in an increasingly complex world.

The film’s use of the fear of technology is pretty direct, as most of the advertising for the film utilizes the prominent imagery of a monitor facing the audience. In addition, the ghosts are often interfering with technology, or dwelling in areas with many electronics such as the arcade. Through the use of this imagery, Kurosawa implies that technology, or the advancing society associated with it, is the root of the problem shown in the film. But the question is, what problem is this society causing?

Throughout the film, there is this overwhelmingly prominent message about loneliness. Characters are constantly isolated from one another, whether that is by choice or not. In addition, some characters (such as the professor or Michi’s boss) have begun to feel disillusioned by personal relationships, claiming that they are all meaningless and only cause harm. Despite this, every character desperately wants to be with others and fit in. This leads them to seek connection in death rather than life and leads them to commit suicide. The cruel irony in this is that even in death they are lonely, as forbidden rooms are constructed separating the spirits into a room alone forever. Another way loneliness is shown in the film is due to characters only ever being lured into forbidden rooms while separated from others. While characters are together, they are safe, but as soon as one of them wanders off, something horrible often happens. But how is society’s advancement causing these issues?

Through the increasingly technologically advanced world, people are growing more and more separated. Due to the increasing prevalence of the internet, social interaction grows increasingly scarce and many struggle to form lasting, real relationships with those around them. In the end, the people who survived the longest throughout the film were those that believed genuinely in those around them and made an effort to form human connections. They continued to believe in creating and nurturing meaningful relationships with those around them, and by believing in others continued to find comfort and remain optimistic (until Ryosuke died at the end. But hey, he survived the entire film. That has to mean something!) Even though it may be cliché, funnily enough, the power of friendship was the solution all along.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Kurosawa - Pulse

Well, I didn't really like this movie. Unlike Sadako, which I grew to like more once I analyzed it, this film didn't do anything wrong. In fact, I think that because it did its job as a horror film, I dislike it. Still, the cinematography in this movie is amazing. It's been a while since there was a director that used pans so well before and so seamlessly. And the camera angles were placed at just the right angle to create a sense of uneasiness. I respect how the movie never used a jump scare and was confident in its delivery to scare the audience.

As a techno-horror, there's the very obvious commentary on the fears of the internet at the start of the millennium. Fears of constant and unknown surveillance, and is evident by the phantom site that records people in the movie.

While that fear is somewhat exaggerated and a much more contemporary issue, the movie also addresses the isolation caused by the internet. It's crazy that this is so much more relevant today, but the discussion of the internet driving people into isolation, and perhaps eventually suicide, is a much greater concern nowadays. Yet, despite that, I thought the movie also presented a much more interesting perspective of the dead and suicide in Japan. The movie's imagery of closing off spaces where people die, hiding away tragedies. Also, how the desperate pleas of these suicidal people are ignored by suicide and remain in this world affecting those still living as if they were real people. I believe that is probably the intent of the phantoms, dead yet still living, as the physical manifestation of suicide on those that were close to the victims.

[cvm-jpfilm]

I can't believe I overlooked the obvious tie-in to the name. The cycle of violence that the curse creates seemingly brings out the worst and most opportunistic sides of people, but I don't think it's entirely an individual choice. I think the tape has an ominous and corrupting influence on the cast, ultimately changing them to enact the curse. Thinking about it more, it could be a commentary more on analog media or technology, considering the odd fusion of folk curse and VHS tape.

Ringu

Ringu, by Hideo Nakata is an excellent horror film and is considered a classic even to this day. Watching it, not only did I notice how well the frightening scenes were constructed, but I also was shocked by the number of more down-to-earth scenes. For example, there were some genuinely touching scenes between Reiko and her family. For these reasons, I greatly enjoyed watching the film.

Ringu was so successful as a film that its impact is still very much tangible in pop culture to this day. From modern horror to video games and parodies, Ringu has become a cultural icon. The popularity of the film had spawned an entire franchise with films being made in both America and Japan. In addition, many films reference or parody the iconic scenes from the film, such as Scary Movie 3 or The Grudge. Ringu is also mentioned in games as well, such as Silent Hill 3 and Ghost Hunter.

I would go as far as to give Ringu credit for the entire trend of Analog horror that is so prominent in the horror scene today. Although Analog horror didn’t become a genre or trend until the late 2000s, I believe that Ringu laid the groundwork for what later became the genre in many ways. Analog horror often relies heavily on the idea of ‘cursed’ or corrupted media. This aligns with Ringu’s use of the tape throughout the film as a haunted piece of media. In addition, both use the VHS style in an attempt to enhance the horror aspect of the media. Finally, Ringu’s usage of distorted faces aligns with trends in the modern analog horror scene as well.

The film’s showcasing of characters who are struggling with their own mortality and how they choose to spend their last days on earth was a fascinating aspect of the film. By showing Reiko Asakawa’s choice to spend more time with her family (until her son gets cursed as well) in contrast to Ryuji Takayama’s relentless pursuit for any opportunity to survive, the film shows the different ways people cope with their limited mortality and displays the acceptance or denial of ‘fate’. Another fascinating aspect of the film is how the curse functions itself. The curse’s only ‘cure’ being to infect someone else with it creates a cyclical effect as the curse is constantly and intentionally spread from person to person. This, in essence, is a cycle of violence. This cycle of violence is represented by the name of the film itself, being Ringu. The film also questions how far you would go to save your own or someone else’s life, a topic which has become more widespread in recent years. In the end, the main character makes the choice to kill her father to save her son. This leaves the question: would you do the same?

[cvm-jpfilm]

Nakata - Ringu

I didn't really like this film. On a technical level, I was really impressed from the non-standard approach to horror in this film. The use of silence, long shots, and grotesque imagery were quite effective at inducing an eerie feeling like hearing scary stories at a camp. That being said, it's not like it was wholly innovative. The movie defaulted too much on cheap jump scares, loud sounds, and frankly sudden character shifts that muddied the scare factor. By sudden character shifts, I mean Asakawa's insidious and sudden turn to willingly sacrificing her father to save her son as the end of the film implies. From a thematic perspective I might understand, but I don't feel the rest of the film characterized her that way for the twist to work.

As for the theme, I found it quite hard to analyze this film, but I would say that Ringu is a critique on media's ability to spread and it's influence on people. The film specifically uses VHS tapes, but I think the critique applies to anything that can be spread through word of mouth, like social media in today's world. In RIngu, after the cast see the VHS tapes, they have one week before they die; the twist presented at the end of the film then reveals that the only way to survive is to copy the tape and show it to someone else. It's quite terrifying how the film portrays this too, with Asakawa's realization presented in such an ominous way.

In the scene, Asakawa, confounded by Ryuji's death, is guided to the reason for her survival by Ryuji's ghost which seems to haunt her. Although it is his ghost, he is reflected in the TV, showing how Asakawa is guided not purely by her ex-husband's ghost, but by the tape yet again into spreading the curse. This is similar to Yoichi's reason for watching the tape too, claiming that Tomoko (or Tomoko's ghost) told him to watch it. The tape uses those it kills to trap future victims in the cycle of the curse. So, Asakawa is seemingly possessed by the tape, by media, to spread it's curse to others to save her child. I think this scene, and the film overall, speak to media's power over people and it's role in people's lives. Media, much like the tape, hold sway over people's minds; Asakawa and Yoichi are compelled to do as it says, as are people unable to look away from the tape when watching it. It's curse, or its ability to be viral, compels people to spread it to others.

[cvm-jpfilm]

I didn't really consider My Way's addition in this film, but it really does fit Fei Hong in particular. Out of all characters, Fei Hong is the only one that particularly sticks to doing things how he has always done it. The allure of the Yen or of fame don't get in the way of his sense of self and belonging, seeing as he is always so kind despite being betrayed. It's hard for me to say if Fei Hong took pride in how he led his life, but I like to view it that way when seeing the crescendo of My Way in his final scene. He runs out into the open in disbelief of his luck, only to see his bar's sign being replaced. I think in this moment Fei Hong realizes that just how he replaced the previous owners, he is being replaced too. His time in the limelight is over, but he got there by his own means, in his way.

Swallowtail Butterfly - 1996

Swallowtail Butterfly, by Shunji Iwai, is an excellent movie. The film contains a great mixture of action and character building scenes, as well as constructing a deep and interesting world for the story to take place in. The film often had me on the edge of my seat, and had many moments that had me laughing or anxious. This film is easily one of my favorites that I have watched this year, and for that reason I am very excited to talk about it.

The film follows a young girl named Ageha’s life as she experiences ups and downs living in a near-future Japan. At the start of the film, Ageha doesn’t have anything, not even a name. By chance, she ends up being adopted by a prostitute named Glico, and from there her life quickly spirals into unknown territory.

Despite being set in a fictional futuristic Japan, the film has some interesting commentary on living as an immigrant, especially a 2nd generation immigrant. The ‘Yentowns’ are people who rush to Japan with nothing to their name in the pursuit of wealth and in the process end up struggling to make end’s meet. Throughout the film we see Yentowns being forced to profit off of prostitution, crime, scamming, exploitation, etc. Although, there are many more Yentowns who are unable to even profit using those means, such as those in the Opium Street. The name of the people themselves, ‘Yentowns,’ is very clever wordplay. By naming the country and the group the same names, the film is implying that they ARE the city. This sentiment is reiterated later in the film when Fei Hong is being interrogated by the police.

This isn’t directly related to the overall meaning of the film, but I was genuinely shocked by the use of ‘My Way’ by Frank Sinatra as a key plot point. I love that song and occasionally listen to it, so I immediately recognized it when it was played in the film. The song’s overall message of blazing your own path and living with no regrets is visible in many of the character’s arcs, but most closely ties in with Fei Hong and Ageha. Ageha is repeatedly associated with the imagery of a butterfly, occasionally a squashed butterfly. This reflects her life as a 2nd generation immigrant with nothing left to her name, as in a fragile time in her life, she was left with nothing. In that sense, she was robbed of her freedom, much like the butterfly lost its ability to fly. In addition, Despite being born in Japan and growing up in the country her entire life, she is treated like an outsider and discriminated against. In this way, Ageha’s character arc mimics the struggle that many 2nd generation immigrants go through, often feeling like they have no place to call home. In the end, Ageha regains her freedom due to the support of those around her and finds great success in the country.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Iwai - Swallowtail Butterfly

This movie was a ride from beginning to end. I don't know if it was just my viewing experience, but I almost thought I was watching a series instead of a movie. This seemed to be another movie where vignettes or parts of a hole form to create an overall meaning to the film.

Figuring out an overall theme or message was a bit hard to figure out with the length and variety this film had to offer. But, if I had to say, I think Swallowtail Butterfly is a critique on ambitions power to corrupt people and tear communities apart. I think the obvious symbolism of this movie is not movie or yen itself, but how yen stands in for ambition. None of the characters truly seek to make the most yen they can, but to realize the wishes they so sought before but were not able to. The film then, presents us with an assemble cast of bizarre characters who seek to make yen, and in the process, forget about the community from which they came from. Once they realize that such a life is not truly worth it and that the yen has corrupted them, they return to the community. This can be likened to the squashed butterfly that Ageha saw in her childhood, a butterfly that, like Icarus of greek myth, tried to fly too high or sought an ambition to lofty, and forgot about the dangers it came with.

[cvm-jpfilm]

I didn't quite see it as a man vs. system story originally, but I kind of see it now with the contrast between Nishi/Hirobe. Nishi tries to fight the system and hopelessly lash out against the world that's taking his wife from him. Meanwhile, you have Hirobe, who in his depression finds meaning in his life again through painting. In this existential fight, I think Kitano gives us two ways to respond against an unfair fate.

Hana-bi Blog

Hana-bi is perfected neo-noir cinema. Loneliness and questionably irreversible decisions permeate the film as the characters coexist with the atmosphere with their broodiness. Almost every single character is going through the motions of life; non more so than the main character Nishi, who is a retired cop. His downward spiral into crime in order to afford a vacation to shoot fireworks with his dying wife is an immediate and emotional motive. He basically becomes an omnipotent force of nature capable of robbing a bank and killing a plethora of Yakuza members. Still he isn’t without his imperfections. Most notably being an inevitably doomed fate that him and his wife share; after all, how long can they keep running from the Yakuza and police.

It’s this overarching theme of a man versus an entire system that brings the most compelling elements of a noir procedural while complimenting them with moments of introspective meditation. While Nishi attempts to kill his way out of paying his Yakuza interest, Nishe’s former police partner Horibe sheds a layer of humane and melancholic beauty throughout the film. His story often parallels Nishi with his paintings reveal a subtle layer about the tragedy that awaits Nishi and his wife. Although this storyline is largely different, Horibe���s paralysis and existential depression merges nicely with Nishi’s dogged, meaningless pursuit. This is where the exquisite cinematography and immersive soundtrack by Joe Hisaishi stand out. Watching intricately staged frame compositions complimented with the operatic soundtrack makes this immediately rewatchable for the abstract and surreal symbolism held within the paintings. For a film filled with soulless life, there’s always the breathtaking wonder that the paintings capture of Japan to symbolize the happiness found within this world. Furthermore, Kitano includes elements of dark humor for levity. It’s quite something to go from the comic and gruesome killing of a Yakuza member to a meditative painting, but the film somehow does so without any abrubt tonal shifts. 

This builds towards an unforgettable ending fitting of the powers that be. The helplessness of Nishi and his wife involved must eventually face the formidable fate of death awaiting them. At least, the film showcases the scarcity of euphoric happiness through its festive acts. No one can run from death, but a content death remains a bittersweet compromise.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Kitano - Hana-bi

Hana-bi is a really interesting film. At first I was pretty confused about the plot and themes, besides it being a proto-John Wick film. But then when I rewatched it, I actually really liked it. The cuts that used to feel sporadic felt like they were trying to instill certain feelings and imagery, and the characters were much more compelling. I think there's probably a couple of films like that in this class, where the viewing atmosphere or a rewatch changes your view on it.

I think that Hana-bi is a commentary on how people deal with tragedy and how material/social worth is the only indicator of success in society.

So obviously, the movie follows two main protagonist, Nishi and Hirobe, who are Japanese cops that throughout the movie face great tragedy. On one hand, you have Nishi, whose daughter dies before the events of the film and his wife is diagnosed with leukemia; on the other hand, you have Hirobe, who is shot by a gangster, leaving him permanently disabled from the waist down, and shortly after left by his wife and kid. Two horrible paths for these men to have gone down, but drastically different outcomes.

Nishi, in order to protect his dying wife and give her the best remaining life, choses to rob a bank to pay for his debts and kills any yakuza in his way. When faced with tragedy, Nishi chooses to take and destroy to deal with the pain. He's a man with almost nothing left to loose: his partner disabled, his daughter dead, and his wife on death's doorstep. Despite being a cop, he shows no hesitation to commit crime, even holding up innocent bank tellers to rob the bank. Similarly, he shows no remorse to the yakuza who not only permanently harmed his partner, but are constantly taking away time from being with his wife. In fact, it's not just the time on film, as a cop he was on the lookout for the yakuza on the regular, preventing him from visiting his wife at the hospital.

Hirobe is quite different from that. He was a man who had it all: an attractive wife, a child that loved him, a respectable job, and an able body. He loses all of that, yet instead of choosing to destroy, Hirobe creates. He takes up painting in his free time and creates beautiful pieces of art, some of which foreshadow later events in the movie. Admittedly, I understand Hirobe's arc less because of the large use of imagery, but to me it felt like Hirobe expressed what he wanted to do in his paintings.

An alternate future is portrayed in his paintings, until the very end, where he throws paint over his suicide piece. Nishi and his wife both commit suicide, but Hirobe instead moves on from that feeling, finding a new purpose in life.

Through these men's tales, I think Kitano expresses how people deal with tragedy, some destroy and some create. The man who had nothing to lose, like a cornered animal struck back against the world trying to protect the only thing that still mattered. The man who had it all and lost it gained a newfound appreciation for life through his works of art that added meaning to the world.

Like I mentioned before, I also think that the film critiques the importance of material/social worth. Notably, this is still something I'm thinking over, but I couldn't quite put aside the connection in the depiction of Nishi's wife and Horibe. Nishi's wife, except by Nishi, is treated as some pitiful creature that is slowly awaiting her death. It's almost heartbreaking how in society's eyes, she almost doesn't exists, merely because she will soon die. Similarly, Hirobe is quickly discarded by society once he suffers that paralyzing injury. His beautiful wife and loving child abandon him once he can no longer work. In the film, society is quick to cast out these characters who suffer from a sort of disability that prevents them from performing their socially/monetarily important roles. In Hirobe's case, his injury prevents him from being a cop and a father, and Nishi's wife from being a wife, much less work.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Sugihara's immediate deflection of his heritage with "I'm not Japanese" really does mirror his final confrontation with Sakurai. Just like how lions were given that name by humans, Japanese people label each other as Japanese, you don't get to choose if you are called that. It's why, like you said, Sugihara would not be accepted in Korea or Japan, because his identity would be chosen by others, not himself. Sugihara is so fed up with all these names up to the point that he can't even call himself "me", he has no name, no identity. Yet, I think that's what makes Sakurai's answer even more rewarding, she comes to the same conclusion that Jeong-il and Sugihara did, that none of that matters. Even if you change the name, what lies beneath will still be the same.

on Go - Isao Yukisada (2001)

Initial Impressions

Having absolutely loved Yosuke Kubozuka's performance in IWGP, the greatest show of all time, I was extremely excited to see him in this and it certainly did not disappoint. It has almost exactly the same kind of late '90s/ early 2000s energy that I loved that show for, although in a slightly different flavor. The quick cuts, the random speed-ups, the random violence, the sense of humor, etc etc, I love it all so much. And of course, Kobuzuka's performance here cannot be understated, the man is such a fucking vibe. If I had a spirit animal it would be him 100%.

Further Critique

The main thing that impressed me about this film was just how many directions it managed to go and just how many things it covered during its runtime. This did kinda make it feel a bit all over the place at times, but I felt like the variety was appropriate considering the complexity of the topic matter. For example, the father was a bit of a confusing character for me at first, as I couldn't quite figure out what the film was trying to get across by spending so much time focused on him, but by the end it was clear that he was just as relevant to the message of the film as Sugihara was, even if he is kind of a piece of shit at times. Another thing that felt a little weird at first was Sakurai kinda just literally being a manic pixie dream girl, which is why I was so fucking happy her character took the direction it did because I feared she would end up feeling a little too fake and kinda bring the film down, but luckily I was totally wrong there.

On that note, there were so many fucking amazing scenes in this film, namely the confession scene, the following scene with the copper, and that last confrontation scene. The confession scene in particular hit me really fucking hard because I could totally feel the awkward, confused feelings of both characters, conflicted between their own desires and the convoluted and complicated rules surrounding their identities. When she says whatever it was along the lines of "I understand in my head, but my body is rejecting you", it hit like a truck. It is fucking insane how social conditioning and shit gets totally absorbed into your subconscious to the point where even if you understand what's wrong with it, it still takes a crazy amount of effort to consciously resist it. I also thought it was revealing how the first thing Sugihara said when coming out to her wasn't like "My dad's from North Korea", it was "I'm not Japanese", despite the fact that the dude was born and raised there, spoke the language fluently, and could easily pass as Japanese in his everyday life if he wanted to. I thought this was a brilliant writing choice as it alludes to the real crux of the issue here, that being the exclusive nature of the title of "Japanese". No matter what he does, he will never not be seen as something "different" in Japan, purely because of his blood ties. The reverse would also be the case if he were to go to Korea, as evident by his time at the Chosen school, where he was considered a race traitor. No matter where he goes, he will always be defined by what he isn't. This is what made that final confrontation scene with Sakurai so damn powerful. Kubozuka delivered his lines with so much goddamn passion, it felt genuinely cathartic after seeing everything he'd gone through. With lines like, “Lions don’t call themselves lions, you gave them that fucking name” and, “I’m a fucking question mark”, etc, this scene was genuinely so fucking good. Alright, I'll stop gushing now lol. 8/10

[cvm-jpfilm]

Yukisada - GO

I LOVED this movie and its Yakuza-like protagonist. Though its a love story, I don't particularly see the movie as a romance. Instead the romance in the film serves to humanize the protagonist, who before was merely a ball of fury. The introspection that the movie presents through Sugihara really hit me hard; the isolation, the degradation, the anger, and the realization pulled me in to Sugihara's world and allowed me to sympathize with him. I could really connect with his circumstances and the absurdity of the situation surrounding Japanese-Koreans.

So obviously, the movie bases itself on the ethnic dilemma of Koreans/Chinese people living in Japan, specifically Zainichi. It's a phrase I've of before while studying Japanese and I wanted to write a little bit about it to capture how exactly this connotation impacts the meaning of the film. If you don't know Japanese, this might also explain to you why exactly Sugihara hates this label so much. So Zainichi (在日), literally meaning staying in (在) Japan (日from 日本 or Nihon/Japan) , refers to at it's simplest residents living in Japan. There is an important connotation in the phrases staying in or residents because this kanji,在, does not denote permanent stay. Its connotation might be derived from the verb it forms, which more closely aligns to "to exist (at a particular point in time)" which is one of the most basic verbs in Japanese,ある. The temporary connotation of this label is quite degrading as it literally refers to Japanese-Koreans as temporary residents or outsiders in Japan. In American terms, imagine if common English terms for people of specific foreign roots had the underlying meaning of "go back to your country". Although this isn't really that farfetched when terms like alien exists, which can be heavily demoralizing to people of foreign descent. I think understanding just how engrained the discrimination is in society and language can better frame Sugihara's fight against being labeled.

Which leads me to my next point, what is this movie about? Well, the overall film is definitely a critique on the discrimination of Koreans/Chinese in Japan. It quite clearly and harshly depicts the isolation, vulnerability, and hopelessness of Korean people like Sugihara when Japanese society turns its back on them. However, I think the film has a slightly more nuanced approached then just, "Sugihara wants to be part of Japanese society", that he wants to be just like everyone else. That's the thing, he DOESN'T. He's not Zainichi, a lion, an alien, or even me/himself, he doesn't have or is interested in any identity. I think he makes that pretty clear at the end of the movie, but what really stuck out to me is how Sakurai responds to his confusion over his identity. She doesn't "accept" him in the traditional sense. She's not saying that he's just like any Japanese person, that we're "all alike" or something to that effect. She says "Don't care what you are". The film is saying that stuff doesn't matter, its who the person is that matters. I found that very heartwarming, but also distinctive in that it doesn't label Sugihara a certain way. It doesn't fit him in a box, because the box really doesn't matter.

In this way, the movie strays away from the Shakespearean influence it draws. Its kind of hard not to notice, but the movie heavily draws parallels from Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers who cannot be together due to their social identities, Sugihara's friend is killed just like Romeo's, and the quotes all allude to this connection. However, it separates from the moral of Romeo and Juliet when Sugihara does not take revenge for his friend's murder, unlike in Romeo and Juliet. The subsequent revenge is what kicks off the war between the feuding families and leads to the lover's deaths. The separation marks a departure from the original message of play, which mocks the family clan structure at the time. Yukisada acknowledges that the relationship between Japan and its Korean/Chinese residents is not as balanced as the clans of the play. Zainichi and other phrases are an unilateral establishment of identity forced upon these people, and splitting from the original story acknowledges that relationship. Unlike the play, where clan identity is criticized because it does not affect who people are, the film disregards identity's meaning entirely because it is someone other people give to each other. In other words, only who people actually are matters.

I was much more focused on the narrative for this film, but I do want to draw attention for a bit to the use of physical objects and distance as symbolism, specifically fences. Yep, it sounds a little weird or basic but hear me out. During the first half of the film, Sugihara tries to jump over two fences when running away from the police. Sugihara is literally running from a Japanese institution, the police, and trying to escape by jumping over a fence. But he can't. He's caught twice and reprimanded. The fence in this case serves as a physical obstacle to the societal entrapment of Korean/Chinese residents in Japan.

Yet, this isn't always the case. In fact, Sakurai complements Sugihara's ability to jump over something. What is that something? A fence, the fence to his Korean school.

It is easy for Sugihara to jump over the fence to the Korean side because it is original identity, but can't do the same for the Japanese fence. It's a small detail but demonstrates Sugihara's conflicting identity.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Glad to see that you also saw the contrast between the high status group and the homeless camp as a commentary on pretentious food culture. I also kind of see it as the higher the status, the farther away from the food people get. As food culture becomes increasingly more present in a meal, people start to think not about the food itself and what they want to eat, but how they look in front of others. That's why the businessmen are so ignorant, while the homeless camp was so knowledgeable. They didn't care for social conventions, only how good the food actually was. Similarly, I think the gangster couple also fits in this interpretation because what they use food for. To this couple, food is a catalyst for pleasure and eroticism. They are almost an in-between point for the two extremes because they appreciate the intricacies of food but also just see it as a means to an end.

Tanpopo

Tanpopo, by Juzo Itami, is a very interesting comedy film about food, more specifically ramen. I deeply enjoyed watching this film and believe that it is easily one of the best Japanese comedy films that I have ever watched. There are many scenes I found the cinematography of very interesting, such as the extended shot of the viewer being observed at the beginning of the film. Some aspects of the film make it feel like a play on the western genre in a similar manner to Family Game, such as the choice to make Goro play the role of a ‘cowboy’ in the film. On another note, I like how the film can execute various types of comedy effectively, such as the faster paced comedy of the training montage in contrast to the slower, drier scene at 19:49.

One thing I specifically wanted to mention was the weird food sex scene. This scene comes out of nowhere and was probably the single most shocking moment in the film for me. To be honest, while I can understand why it was included in the film, it felt unnecessary in the grand scheme of things. In addition, it was extremely disgusting, especially during the section utilizing shrimp.

I feel that the film comments on the pretentious nature of food culture and how the supposed ‘experts’ are simply people who pretend to know what they’re talking about for the sake of status. Several times throughout the film it questions the notion that richer, higher status people truly know food the best. For example, during the scene where the instructor is teaching how to eat spaghetti, no one ends up following her advice due to witnessing that she was incorrect. Other examples include the high-status group of people having dinner being outdone by the boy who was responsible for bringing their bags in. Not only does the film show those who are high class as clueless, but the film also showcases many low-class characters that are experts in food. For example, at the homeless encampment we meet the single most knowledgeable group in the entire film when it comes to food. A group of expert chefs specializing in ramen, wine and more. The expectation that the homeless would be less talented or intelligent led Tampopo to be reserved as first before she quickly realized that this assumption was incorrect. Through the film’s exploration of food’s place in society and questioning of people’s understanding of food, the film commentates on what truly defines someone as high-status in our society. If the supposed ‘experts’ in high society know less than the average citizen and famous restaurants know nothing about making a proper bowl of ramen, then why don’t we just give up the theatrics and make a good, normal bowl.

[cvm-jpfilm]

Itami - Tampopo

I'm so hungry after watching this film. I didn't think this movie would be as much of a love letter to food culture everywhere as it was, and frankly how could anyone? I thought the movie summary was a garbled mess of words until I realized how it accurately captured the vignette direction that this movie utilizes. Speaking of that, you would think that sprinkling small stories throughout the movie would result in some underutilized storylines but I quite liked how the interspersed episodes built to the overall theme of the movie. While Tampopo's story is the main one, in reality all of the stories are pieces of a larger whole. I enjoyed watching such a love for food displayed on film (except for the erotic parts, that was kind of weird).

As for the film's message, while I do not view this as the main overarching message of the film, I think of Tampopo as a critique of food culture and etiquette's hold over people's enjoyment of food. Through the movie we are exposed to a range of food quality and culture, from the very top of cuisine to the raw ingredients and even the most common foods. The eroticism of the gangster couple, the dedication of the mother, the stinginess of the old lady, and the compulsion of the wealthy old man all demonstrate food as either matching to societal expectations or contrasting it. The biggest example of this might be the contrast between the wealthy business men and the vagabond culinary experts. One would ordinarily think of the businessmen as more enlightened than normal people, but the juxtaposition is created from their ignorance. In contrast, the vagabonds are like modern day monks of cuisine. They taste just about everything and truly appreciate food for what it is, not just the social importance of fitting in.