intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I enjoyed your thoughts about the past and future of Japan here. I hadn't really considered this aspect of the film, but I think that our main character being so young plays a major symbolic role. Having Chihiro interact with the past while coming from the future means so much, especially when she is there to preserve it like keeping Haku healthy as a dragon.

Spirited Away (2001)

Spirited Away is a masterpiece, no matter how many times you watch it you can always catch something new. Every time I watch, I always get overwhelmed with all the visual stimulus and honestly, I get lost in the sauce plot wise until the end. But I always leave satisfied and happy as the movie finally addresses most of my concerns.

For me this movie is a commentary on Japan’s past and future and the struggle of its people to come to terms with their coexistence. The run-down theme-parks of the pre-bubble burst era being the physical representation of Japan’s past success and how it has been ignored in the present. The parents are greedy and gluttonous and turn into pigs. They were gorging themselves on resources that the nation does not have anymore. However, they willfully ignore this and dine anyways. The names being taken strips you of your connection to self and the past. For Chihiro and Haku, they must find their old selves and learn the lessons of the past in order to progress into a new future.

There is also a commentary of capitalism and class. Yubaba on the top floor has an abundance of wealth and room. Everyone below that is working long hard hours in cramped spaces. This can be a commentary on the distribution of wealth and also a comparison of Japan’s past wealth and then current economic situation. I believe this also comments on the lack of work life balance (overwork) experienced in Japan. Yubaba takes your name and MUST accept any who wish to work. Showing the need for work efficiency and the “cog in a machine” mentality. Adding to this point is Chihiro’s name change. She becomes Sen which means one thousand implying she is one of many worked indistinguishable from others. Additionally, the soot spirits in the boiler room showcase collectivism in the workplace as well. When Chirhiro did the work of one soot spirit, the rest tried to get her to do their portion of work as well. There is No Face Which seems to be the embodiment of greed. He reflects his surroundings and after eating members of the bathhouse he becomes more and more greedy. The bathhouse employees crave money and are willing to do anything to get it. This shows the importance of money and how the bubble bursting may have led to more greed than before.

There is some environmental aspects as well including the pollution of waterways. The stink spirit that came in was truly just a river spirit, but it had been contaminated with trash from humans. This is a commentary on the industrialization of the modern age that has harmed environment.

This is just some of the stuff I noticed this time but there is honestly no end to what you can extract from this movie.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I enjoyed your thoughts about the past and future of Japan here. I hadn't really considered this aspect of the film, but I think that our main character being so young plays a major symbolic role. Having Chihiro interact with the past while coming from the future means so much, especially when she is there to preserve it like keeping Haku healthy as a dragon.

Spirited Away (2001)

Spirited Away is a masterpiece, no matter how many times you watch it you can always catch something new. Every time I watch, I always get overwhelmed with all the visual stimulus and honestly, I get lost in the sauce plot wise until the end. But I always leave satisfied and happy as the movie finally addresses most of my concerns.

For me this movie is a commentary on Japan’s past and future and the struggle of its people to come to terms with their coexistence. The run-down theme-parks of the pre-bubble burst era being the physical representation of Japan’s past success and how it has been ignored in the present. The parents are greedy and gluttonous and turn into pigs. They were gorging themselves on resources that the nation does not have anymore. However, they willfully ignore this and dine anyways. The names being taken strips you of your connection to self and the past. For Chihiro and Haku, they must find their old selves and learn the lessons of the past in order to progress into a new future.

There is also a commentary of capitalism and class. Yubaba on the top floor has an abundance of wealth and room. Everyone below that is working long hard hours in cramped spaces. This can be a commentary on the distribution of wealth and also a comparison of Japan’s past wealth and then current economic situation. I believe this also comments on the lack of work life balance (overwork) experienced in Japan. Yubaba takes your name and MUST accept any who wish to work. Showing the need for work efficiency and the “cog in a machine” mentality. Adding to this point is Chihiro’s name change. She becomes Sen which means one thousand implying she is one of many worked indistinguishable from others. Additionally, the soot spirits in the boiler room showcase collectivism in the workplace as well. When Chirhiro did the work of one soot spirit, the rest tried to get her to do their portion of work as well. There is No Face Which seems to be the embodiment of greed. He reflects his surroundings and after eating members of the bathhouse he becomes more and more greedy. The bathhouse employees crave money and are willing to do anything to get it. This shows the importance of money and how the bubble bursting may have led to more greed than before.

There is some environmental aspects as well including the pollution of waterways. The stink spirit that came in was truly just a river spirit, but it had been contaminated with trash from humans. This is a commentary on the industrialization of the modern age that has harmed environment.

This is just some of the stuff I noticed this time but there is honestly no end to what you can extract from this movie.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Spirited Away Hayao Miyazaki

I have not watched this movie for about 10 years. The last time I remember watching it was in the car, on a road trip to see my grandparents. I also have a distinct memory of having my parents turn this off the first time I watched it because I was too scared when Chihiro’s parents turned into pigs. Having finally been given the opportunity to re-watch this film, I was amazed at how much anti-capitalist and critiques of consumerism there were throughout. They continually rail against Yubaba for being so wealthy and an unfair leader. While Kamajì is clearly representative of the working class, just a cog in the machine to those above him both in authoritative position and location in the big tower since he is located in the depths of the boiler. Then we have No-Face, who was more terrifying than I remembered him being. While he does give out gold, finally giving pay to what seem to be indentured servants or slaves, he also opens his gaping maw once you accept him. The greed that the representative lower-class workers have is outdone by the kindness and refusal of No-Face’s supposed charity. There is also a lot of corruption in the bathhouse, like when the frog worker is trying to get the roasted newt from Lin, the frog worker so desperately wants the newt. Motivated by their currency, it seems like nobody is free of the ever-present greed in the world.

I think that one of the films strengths is that it can pass the important commentary it has over a younger audiences head while still entertaining them. Few films can include such subtext without either completely giving over children’s media or focus too hard on the ideas they want to convey and bore a child out of their mind. Animation is the bridge to this gap here, Miyazaki creates a breathtaking world that pleases the eyes while the story complements this. Sprinkled into the story however are instances of deeper meaning that create such a powerful film.

The part of this film that I can’t help but come back to quite often is the score. Composed by Joe Hisaishi, the hauntingly beautiful score gives the film such a powerful and emotional backdrop. Hisaishi is a frequent partner for other Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli films and all his scores are, in my opinion, a vital part of the films.

Also here is an image from the stage adaption of the film

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I think the idea of this being an unfaithful copy is interesting. I viewed this more as an amalgamation of everything that Miike was every inspired by, specifically samurai classics, spaghetti westerns, and the style he developed during his V-cinema days. I was also reminded of Zombie while watching this. Zombie seems to be very inspired by Miike, not just in his visual flair but also his grotesque imagery from House of 1000 Corpses and The Devils Rejects, specifically taking from the torture scenes in both those films.

Sukiyaki Western Django

Takashi Miike must have been an Eagle Scout because this movie is a masterclass in camp. Paralleled in goofiness only by Tampopo, Sukiyaki Western Django is a love letter to the Spaghetti Western highlighted by absurd action scenes and dragged down by Quentin Tarantino’s disgustingly weird accent.

Initial Reactions

My god I cannot stress how much Quentin Tarantino sucked in this film. This film started off pretty good, and Quentin Tarantino’s western accent was alright, if not funny, but when he switched into the faux-Asian accent, it displayed a clear lack of never having even studied the Japanese language because it was off in all the wrong places. Also why did he do it? It’s not like it added anything to the film other than a visceral gut reaction.

A contentious decision that could either be insanely funny or incredibly cringey was the final reveal that Heihachi becomes Django. I don’t know if Takashi Miike was serious about this, and if he was, then it might’ve taken the “Ode to Westerns” a bit too far and changed the tone of this movie into a gross origin story. HOWEVER, if this was some prank, then this would be a stroke of genius because something I get tired of seeing at the end of the movies is the “Where are they now?” sections, and seeing a dumb joke akin to the “This person grew up to be Jeff Bezos/Elon Musk” memes you see on the internet was a fun touch.

Other than that, this film was amazing, and mainly because everything was so goofy. Going back to the opening scene, the blood spattering on the backdrop and the dumb gritty dialogue made this feel like a parody of a scene building up to a shootout. Adding onto this, the gunfighting scenes are so much fun to watch, especially the scene where Yoshitsune (big bad dude in white) adjusts for the wind and proceeds to shoot Kiyomori (big bad dude in red). Yoshitsune having to point his gun like 40° to the left of Kiyomori, and then Kiyomori reacting like he was getting shot by an airsoft gun was comedic genius.

Deeper Thoughts/Analysis

The biggest thing that crossed my mind was how meta this whole movie was. One of the Heike boys compared the Gunman to a similar character in the movie Yojimbo, which reminded me that this movie is inspired by Spaghetti Westerns, which are in turn inspired by old Japanese samurai movies. This kind of reminds me of Jean Baudrillard’s idea of different stages of simulacra, where Spaghetti Westerns are an unfaithful copy (or second-order simulacra) of samurai movies, and Sukiyaki Western Django is an unfaithful copy of an unfaithful copy. I’m fairly certain this doesn’t mean it transcends to third-order simulacra, but it is interesting how removed Sukiyaki Western Django is from the original source material of Yojimbo.

Final Thoughts

This movie is too much fun. It reminds me of another favorite campy movie, Rob Zombie's House of 1000 Corpses in that it just exudes a specific genre and does a loving parody to it.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Sukiyaki Western Django Takashi Miike

Miike, in what I believe to be his only English-language movie, delivers a twisted modern take on the samurai-western film that within its overwhelming visual style and over-the-top nature still manages to output a masterfully crafted film.

While sometimes such a visually rich film can come off as nauseating, I think that what Miike was going for here needed this. Just the opening sequence alone is so saturated that I was not prepared for the whole film to be like that, luckily it was not. It was however a great way of distinguishing the past from the present, even referencing the classic sets of spaghetti westerns but with the more nuanced approach of a traditional Japanese landscape. I also adore the ending duel of the film where the whole scenery transforms from a dessert town to a beautiful snowy town. Clearly a reference to the mountain settings of many samurai films, also used in Tarantino’s Kill Bill Vol. 1 final duel, there are few things more visually striking than blood spattering across clean fluffy white snow. The final duel also serves as a strong contrast between the samurai and western genres with the gun stopping the sword and shooting his opponent, like the western taking over the samurai film for a short time in the film industry. Quentin Tarantino cameos in this film as the Gunman. While I don’t appreciate his atrocious attempt at an accent while he is in the wheelchair, Tarantino famously loves classic samurai and western films so there was no better person to fulfill this role in my mind. Also, Tarantino is a huge fan of Miike, calling Audition a “true masterpiece.” I think that later 90’s early 2000s Miike and Tarantino are the perfect combination to make an over-the-top exploitative film.

Like we discussed in class after watching Rashomon, I loved the blatant use of guns in this film as phallic imagery. Besides a couple of characters being plainly shot in the penis, once the machine gun runs out of ammo during the climax and the red leader is shot, he drops the gun to reveal: his revolver covering his crotch. This plays into a theme I was not expecting to be so prominent in this movie: comedy. Much of this is played for laughs, generally stemming from the excessiveness of the filmmaking. For example, when one of the characters is impaled by the cross or when the red leader starts talking about Shakespeare.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I also noticed the intergenerational connection that the dorayaki brought. I think this was a great way of highlighting the importance of food in our culture while showing how it can not only bring people together but free them too, from both the confines of society and themselves.

Naomi Kawase: Sweet Bean

Initial Reaction

I have got to say that watching a relatively slow-paced film that’s both heart-warming and heart-wrenching was a good change of pace from the horror and avant-garde films we’ve been watching recently. Prior to watching this film, Sweet Bean (あん), I was completely unaware of how those with leprosy were and still are facing discrimination in Japan and in the rest of the world. While this social issue is the focus of the film, I think Kawase did a spectacular job of incorporating different generations and bringing them (young, middle-aged, and elderly) all together with one commonality they shared: dorayaki.  

*Going off on a tangent: This film reminded me of the YouTube channel “Grandma’s Recipes” that features Japanese grandmas’ recipes and their life stories. If you haven’t watched it before, here’s a link to the most popular video (ENG SUB) on their channel with 8.5 million views: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wGqFFcAaTn8.

Social Commentary

Leprosy and How It’s Misunderstood

Before I delve into my analysis of leprosy and this film, I will briefly talk about the misconceptions that people hold around those with leprosy. To begin with, leprosy is a chronic but curable, infectious disease that is caused by a slow-growing bacteria which can affect the nerve, skin, eyes, and lining of the nose (CDC, 2017).

To bust some myths surrounding leprosy:

You cannot get leprosy from a casual contact like:

- Shaking hands or hugging

- Sitting next to each other on the bus

- Sitting together at a meal

Also, leprosy is NOT passed on from a mother to her unborn baby during pregnancy and is also not spread through sexual contact.

In most cases, prolonged contact with someone with untreated leprosy over many months is needed to contract the disease. Doctors think that contraction occurs through airborne droplets (coughing, sneezing) in which someone with active leprosy passes it on to a healthy person who breathes it in, but the cause is not clear yet. Even then, contracting leprosy is HIGHLY UNLIKELY, because MORE THAN 95% OF ALL PEOPLE HAVE A NATURAL IMMUNITY.

Now, taking all this into consideration and assuming that the film is set in 2015, we can better understand Tokue’s pain of being labeled an “untouchable” by Japanese society in which an overwhelming majority have an unwarranted fear of those with leprosy.  

From the start of the film, it is obvious that Tokue desires to be part of larger society – not an outsider. Such can be seen from her not caring about Doraharu, the dorayaki shop’s, low wage. Rather than being hung up on the salary which matters most to many when taking a job, she cares more about being able to interact with people and being viewed as “normal” for once. The difference in what she places importance on and what people that are part of larger society place importance on show how many of us take what we view as “normal” for granted.

It’s interesting to see that the other main characters, Sentaro and Wakana, are also social misfits. Though, they are to a lesser degree than Tokue. We learn that Sentaro started working at Doraharu (dorayaki + haru), because he was indebted to the shop’s owner after having gone to prison for trying to stop a brawl in a pub and having disabled the person fighting. Similarly, Wakana comes to Doraharu out of necessity to escape her family situation in which her single mother is never there for her. The interweaving of these three stories – Tokue, Sentaro, Wakana – is captivating, because it shows how three different generations overcome their given circumstance through interacting with each other. Specifically, Tokue represents the wisdom that comes with old age as she believes that everything in life has meaning; Sentaro represents how those in their middle-age have had to come to terms with reality and lost their naiveness and optimism of when they were young; Wakana represents the youthfulness of not yet being able to see the dark aspects of society and being able to try anything head-on. Their generational gap along with their different stories makes this film relatable to anyone watching, regardless of their nationality and ethnicity.    

That being said, this film also shows how the collectivist mindset, most often associated with Eastern cultures, can be damaging. This can be observed in a number of scenes when we see how Japanese society fears people with leprosy, even though there is little reason to do so. Such scenes that immediately come to mind are: 1.) Sentaro’s manager sanitizing her hands after coming to talk to him about removing Tokue due to her history of leprosy, 2.) No one coming to buy dorayaki from the shop when rumors go around that Tokue has leprosy, and 3.) People with leprosy having to live in a secluded area on the outskirts of society. Another scene that was shown a lot throughout the course of the film was Tokue listening to the voices of the inanimate (azuki beans, trees, etc.) and animals. All of these scenes show the danger in taking things at face-value and not questioning society’s (unspoken) rules for the “greater good.” Tokue is the antagonist to such customs since she tunes in to those that do not have voices. The final scene also reinforces this value of withholding judgement and listening to all perspectives with Sentaro and Wakana being able to forge a happier life, after finding what makes them happy - not what society deems necessary to be happy. Fortunately, in doing so, their “spring” (haru) finally comes.

Bonus:

If you want to see real dorayaki craftsmanship, watch the linked YouTube video from timestamp 6:25-8:00: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wljx_KuN8u0.

If anyone is planning to go to Japan in the near future and is curious, the shop’s name is “Kawachiya” and is managed by a cute, elderly couple in Shizuoka. They were featured on a Japanese TV Program called 「世界に日本行きたい人応援団」that invites people who are interested in Japan to fly out and experience a side of Japan (i.e., traditional food, martial arts, games, etc.) they’re interested in. It’s most definitely on my bucket list of places to go!

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Sweet Bean Naomi Kawase

“Boss smile when something is delicious”

Documenting the beauty in creation and consumption of food while contrasting this with the wrongful segregation of a population, Sweet Bean’s feel-good-movie nature shines through against the rest of the films from this class. Harkening back to the simpleness of Ozu combined with the lightheartedness of Itami’s Tampopo, Kawase is able to craft a solid societal commentary while staying true to the roots of film in Japan. The most captivating thing in Sweet Bean was the preparation of the dorayaki. The macro shots of Sentarô pouring the batter and the methodical, dance like nature of the way he flips them highlighted the beauty in what it means to be a chef. While not straying into the pornographic side of food like Itami does, Kawase chooses to focus on the connection that food can bring. The shop brings together all the characters in the film, serving as the place of work, rest, and connection for all. Sentarô serves all the people in one way or another, providing food and employment for Tokue and the former for Wakana. All while doing this, he is forming a distinctly human connection with them, creating a blended family that is alluded to in the recording left by Tokue where she tells that she was not allowed to have the child she became pregnant with. We see the connection that food can bring across generations. Also, the food bridges the barriers between someone who was on the outskirts of society, Tokue due to her leprosy, and Sentarô as an indebted ex-convict. The film’s commentary on personal freedom was very refreshing to see. Despite being confined by her age, disease, and housing Tokue was able to free herself from these barriers by working at the dorayaki shop. I also appreciated that Sentarô was able to free himself of the burden of his debt by venturing out to open his own dorayaki stall. Clearly taking what Tokue said to him to heart, he was able to finally make something of himself as an individual, breaking out of the cog-like nature of his life in the machine. Kawase also touches on the age-old struggle between modernity and tradition here with her commentary on Tokue’s leprosy. All the negative thoughts are derived from old-world beliefs about the disease while they are confronted with the living, breathing truth of Tokue not showing any of their outdated beliefs.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Pulse Jim Sonzero Comparison

2006, in a post-9/11 Hollywood only one thing really mattered: money. Wes Craven, coming off lukewarm reviews of Red Eye and Cursed was trying to claw back to his prime again. Craven had been slated to write and direct the remake of Pulse since 2003, but Bob Weinstein pulled him off the project only to later dump it on two rather unknown players in the industry. This was probably the beginning of the end, not just for Pulse but for Craven as well. While I don’t blame one of the masters of horror at all for this, I think this is a prime example of the Hollywood machine messing with art at its finest.

Sonzero’s pulse omits the intersecting plot lines of Kurosowa’s original, which indeed tightens the film up to a cozy hour and a half. Despite this, Sonzero’s film drags more than the original. Set in Ohio, the Tokyo of the United States, we are joined by Kristen Bell and Ian Somerhalder as our main characters. Sonzero copies the main plotline of the original and takes out all of the human elements. Everything is played for shock and scare value instead of to build up the haunting atmosphere that will eventually come crashing down around them. Since this came out five years after the original it was natural for some updates to occur. Gone is the freshness and fear of the unknown about the internet as the hot new thing in 2001. Instead, we are treated to a haunted chat log and washing machines. Something interesting that he does with the virus is how it does effect “all technology” not just the internet. While the idea is good to begin with, it does lead us to the best and worst scene of the entire film where one of our characters is attacked by the internet spirits coming out of a laundry machine.

Really, I don’t think this does anything right except for making it blatantly obvious that this is a world-wide event. Sonzero repeatedly cuts to news casts and fliers about the mysterious illness spreading throughout the state and the importance of red tape. While I think this was done for the benefit of an American audience who would be confused by all the nuances of the original, I think that it somewhat works to build up the scale of the event.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I think your dark take is right on the money. Techno horror from this period was very predictive to today, not only about our reliance on technology but also our use of it to dispel loneliness. I think this hold very true during the pandemic era, where we needed this technology to function, if the Pulse virus was real, we all would have been gone within the week.

Pulse (2001)

Initial thoughts:

This is probably my favorite film we have watched so far. The two simultaneous plotlines that meet in the end was really interesting to watch and I haven’t seen it too much in the movies I have seen. I do think that the beginning of the film was notably better than the latter half though. The first 40-50 min expertly used horror elements and pacing to where I was both intrigued and creeped out (which is hard because I don’t really find these things creepy or scary). I still enjoyed the second half a lot but the supernatural elements became a bit redundant for me. Additionally, I did have a bit of confusion regarding the disappearances, which I would like to note I liked that this ‘haunting’ was more than just the two protagonists and their friends but rather it was global. I was a little confused that some people like Junko, Yabe and Kawashima just turn into the black stains while others like Taguchi and Karasawa killed themselves before also becoming black stains. It just left me a bit confused on how exactly the ‘curse’ worked, though in the end I suppose all of them succumb to despair of some sort. 

Why it worked:

I think what made this more unnerving as a techno-horror film than ring for me, was that there was not an escape. With Ring, you could either not watch the tape or copy it after. But in this film, anyone with internet access (so everyone) it seemed would eventually be affected by the ghosts. It wasn’t just one ghost either, it was multiple different people who we saw were tormenting the characters, and eventually the ghosts aren’t what kill you, its yourself. I think your own mind turning against you, your own solitude and despair going beyond control is what is scary about it all.

My (maybe dark) take:

You can analyze this film more from the technological standpoint and speak on how this is a message of the corruption technology has had on people and how it has made us less human and deterred us from making true human connection. And go on about how we crave human connection and tha technology which was meant to connect us more than ever only pushed us apart. But I think this movie does more. I think it shows us we were ALWAYS like that, the presence of technology just exacerbated it. Karasawa spoke about something similar when she first went to Kawashima’s house, we are all lonely and afraid of solitude, yet we are fake in our connections. I think we all are so terrified of death because we think it will be even lonelier than what we are now so we cling so desperately to living without any real conviction. We are just afraid of the unknown and of being alone. But in truth, we are always alone. We are born alone, we die alone, and in death like in life we will be alone. And even with technology connecting us to every corner of the earth, to a point where almost every other person is only a click away. We are still alone. The machine with the dots really intrigued me as it showed this point visually. We are like little specs of dust that cross paths but don’t touch. I think this not only refers to our connections to other people but our connections between life and death.

But we are resilient, so we keep going and we try to make those connections that make everything seem like it meant anything. That’s why we humans are cool, and annoying 😊

(this got darker than I anticipated)

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Pulse Kiyoshi Kurosowa

Post Y2K and in the midst of the internet explosion, Pulsedocuments the inherent dangers of new technology through the lens of the scariest and most expansive thing in the universe besides the universe itself: the internet. But wait! There are ghosts too! A more accurate moniker for these beings would be spirits, anywhere from amorphous blobs to humanoid forms with fleshed out faces. I enjoy the though that ghosts and the dead don’t need to be this whole big thing in Japanese horror. Pulse posits the question of what if the dead were all around you all the time? Ultimately, this becomes the downfall of society as the spirits realize that they can have real influence over the living.

Kurosowa, in interviews, was very open about Ringu and its subsequent success being a major catalyst for his creating Pulse.Again, highlighting the importance of Ringu for Japanese horror and horror in general. Both dealing with ghost and curses, just in different ways. Kurosowa goes on to highlight the fear of the unknown, whether that being about new technology, the future, or the world at large. Pulse in my opinion is more worldly and depressing than Ringu. Kurosowa wants the viewer wallow in their self and come to terms with their own loneliness.

Much of the eeriness of Pulse comes from Kurosowa’s shot composition and sound design. Kurosowa creates frames within the frame by using a lot of negative space throughout the film. Forcing our focus onto the sole light part of the frame adds to our inherent fear of the dark and unknown by not allowing us to see the rest of the image. I think some of the creepiest shots are those of the soon to be spirits standing stoically next to their computers. The whole idea of putting someone next to an object that is associated with work and activity is extremely unsettling throughout. Inaction juxtaposed to an action-oriented object creates confusion, couple this with the sound being removed for many of these scenes of scrolling through bedrooms and you create horror. It is always a bold move to remove all sound from a scene regardless of context, it not only makes the audience hyperaware that they are watching a film, but it forces them to focus in on the image. Now, Kurosowa plays with this very well by bringing in the creepy robotic voice or perhaps a lone muffle gunshot, to break this silence and rocket us back to the apocalyptic terror that ensues.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

The Ring Gore Verbinski (Comparison)

Ah yes, who else better suited to create such a work of art than Gore Verbinski himself. Somehow, while much of this is close to a shot-for-shot adaptation of Nakata’s film, an extra 20-minutes sneaks itself in there. In this is the immaculate horse-suicide sequence, in which a black stallion gets spooked by the haunted Naomi Watts and proceeds to escape from its trailer. Upon doing so, the horse wreaks havoc on the ferry only to jump to its death. Gore then gives us the funniest shot of the film in which we hear the horse exclaim painfully, followed by the water behind the ferry’s propellers turning red. Now, I understand that this serves to further the weak plotline about the horses becoming sick because of Samara. However, this begs the question of why. This was a strange inclusion, one that to my knowledge isn’t present in any other part of the Ring franchise. The only possible explanation I can come up with is some sort of American orientation related to farming and horses to bring the film out of its Japanese roots.

In the perfect analog to Japan, The Ring is set in Seattle. With the quintessential early-2000s grey, green color palate, Verbinski crafts a mucky and flat backdrop for his adaptation. While the original is by no means poppy or bright, something about the color put me off. Verbinski also uses so many of the same shot compositions that you can play the openings of these two side by side and watch the same thing happen onscreen.

One aspect that is fleshed out more in Verbinski’s version is the character of Aidan Keller, the son. He is presented as the stereotypical creepy kid and gets a surprising amount of screen time. Both versions have a surprising amount of independence for their age and serve mainly as a catalyst for the main character to speed up their journey. I think that the kid characters highlights the main thing that Verbinski does in his adaption: westernize it. In doing so, he removes any of the symbolic meaning of the recording and the cyclical nature of the haunting. What we are left with is a soulless adaptation that serves on to scare and not to teach us about something more, which is sorely disappointing thing for Gore to do to Ringu.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I also noted the B4 on the cabin. However, I think that the breaking down of the license plate was very interesting. I love the subtle nods and hints that are injected throughout to help guide the audience along almost subconsciously.

Ring....

Well… that was scary. I thought it would be worse but it was still quite scary…

I don’t really want to look up photos of this movie and accidentally run into frightening screencaps, so no pictures in this blog post. However, because I wasn’t looking at the scary things, I was instead focusing on the use of numbers in the film which ended up being quite interesting. 

Numbers:

B4

Let’s start off with the first number in the film: B4. Honestly, this number has two interpretations - one in English and one in Japanese. In English, the hidden meaning is quite clear: B4 = Before. Yet, it isn’t until the end of the movie that the viewer realizes that this is a hint into where the body is since it is found under the building labeled B4. The Japanese meaning takes a bit of thought but, I believe it could be a play on the number “24″. In Japan 24, is considered an unlucky number because it sounds like “two deaths” (ni-shi). 4 will come up a lot in this film since it is the most unlucky number since it sounds like “death.”

54-4226

Breaking the numbers into parts, 54 is the first combo in this sequence. While this is technically a stretch, this could be a multilingual joke on “go die” with 5 = go and 4 = shi. 

42 is actually a restricted number in japan since it sounds like “to die” and is never used as the last numbers on a license plate (note that these numbers appear in the middle to make it plausible)

26 is an interesting last number combo to appear since 26 in numerology is typically associated with doomsday. This is because 2+6=8 and 8 is thought to be the number of disaster. 

7:01 (some time after seven)

The main protagonist’s time of watching the film and predicted time of death is tied to the number 7 for the number days of the week, which are also the days she has left.

77-3265

At the end of the film, the license plate on the car changes to show this one which is absent of the number 4 - predicting no death is on the horizon. Other than the absence of the number 4, I think the 77 is supposed to bring comfort and good fortune at this point in the film. 

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Ring Hideo Nakata

Unbeknownst to himself, in directing and adapting Koji Suzuki’s novel, Nakata’s Ring would go on to make a huge impact on the Hollywood system and how American’s viewed Japanese, Korean, and Chinese film. Relying on atmosphere and remarkable sound design, Ring subverted American expectations about what horror films are. Horror films strike an interesting balance between quality and budget in terms of production, meaning that you can make a high-quality horror picture for a low budget. This is the opposite of most other films in the Hollywood system and is why horror movies seem so derivative of one another. For example. Ringwould go on to be remade by Verbinski, have a forgotten Japanese sequel called Spiral, and have countless spin off films, television shows, and books. Ringmakes a huge cultural impact on Japanese and American film style and production. Ring can also be credited for launching the American torture porn subgenre. Wanting to capitalize on the newfound success of Ring, Omega Project went on to produce Miike’s Audition which would inspire Eli Roth and James Wan to create Hostel and Saw respectively. Ring may present itself as just a horror film, but I feel this is where a director really gets to show both their technical and storytelling prowess. One thing that Nakata does beautifully is his use of glass. The opening sequence with the two schoolgirls presents our first example in which the TV magically turns on and the show is framed behind the bubbled glass. The glass disrupts our direct view of the screen while dissipating the light casting off it, blurring the image behind it much like the faces of the people who are cursed in photographs. The semi-translucent wall helps to separate us from the horror that is to be experienced, but still allows us a slight peak into the action, playing with our natural curiosity.

While the story of Ring comes off as little procedural in my opinion, it is a very original idea for a supernatural story. Specifically, the discover of the body in the well not being the end to the curse was a great twist. We expect everything to be over, but the curse can never end unless you are evil enough to pass it on. Most of the rest of the film follows a pretty straightforward investigative journalist perspective, which is not explained in the film but in the novel, she is focused on supernatural occurrences. The two characters felt very Warren like from the Conjuring franchise, and while they are based on real people, I can’t help but guess that Wan took a little inspiration from Ring here.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I agree that this felt like a bunch of genres mushed together. It felt like each of the characters brought their on genre relief to the overall depressing and derelict landscape of Yentown.

Swallowtail Butterfly – スワロウテイル

A wonderful mess, that’s how I could describe this film. A world that is dirty, cruel, unforgiving, and beautiful all the same.

The movie went on for quite a bit, but it used all of that time pretty wisely to really flesh out the world they were trying to depict, a world showcasing a wide breadth of humanity, extending past nationality, race, class, gender, and language. Really, characters were speaking Japanese, English, Mandarin, or Cantonese, so I’m very impressed with the dialogue and how it was handled here. Language is played around with quite a bit as well, in particular with the name of the city and the immigrants, the city has the nickname of Yen Town (円都, en to), and the immigrants are referred to with a loose homophone Yen Thieves (円盗, en tou) which is anglicized as “Yentown” in dialogue and subtitles. Many different characters clung and clashed with each other in this bizarre but inspiring plot, and if this film did anything well, I think it allowed every character to have their chance to shine.

It's like multiple genres are belnding together to tell this tale. Characters start off mostly supporting one another until they all gain a path to fortune that allows them to realize their various dreams, but this comes at the cost of their solidarity with one another. With Glico we have a distinct musical element, with Ryo Ranki and Fei Hong we have a crime drama, and with Ageha we have something of a social realist journey. While Ryo certainly has some antagonistic qualities, I couldn’t really pin him as the villain, just another character in the film, and in a way the protagonist of his own story, just as any of the central characters were. Everyone is finding their own way, living the lives they want to live the way they want to live them.

One thing that was always shrouded in ambiguity was Ageha and her actual heritage, we never find out if she was Japanese or an Asian immigrant, and this was certainly by design. Her actual bloodline is not important here, she is from Yentown, that is her home and something she learns to hold onto with pride. It’s a bold statement that stands against the stubborn ideology of Japan surrounding racial purity and only valuing a specific birthplace. She manages to find a path forward in life that is fulfilling for herself and allows her to hold those she cares for close to her, and it has nothing to do with her race or nationality, but the resolve she gains from her experiences. She was forced to confront her own set of issues on her own and managed to help the people close to her along the way. Despite how wild the events got, I think her growth and resolve was great to witness, and she ended up being a wonderful protagonist.

In the end the animosity anyone held has vanished, and we were left to wonder how this world might progress in the future, as they left some plotlines up in the air. I don’t think it was necessary to know Ryo Ranki’s fate, or the fate of the other Yentowns. We already saw the most important parts of these characters and what the film really had to say about them, that is their journey, not their destination.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Swallowtail Butterfly Shunji Iwai

Iwai’s Swallowtail Butterfly follows the misadventures of Ageha and her merry band of misfits she meets in Yentown, a dystopian Tokyo where the Japanese yen is now the strongest currency in the world. Capitalizing on this fact, no pun intended, thousands move to Tokyo to get Yen by any means necessary. Ageha is the exception to this mentality as she mostly does not do anything for the film, serving more as a focal point for us to explore the vast cast of characters. Visually, this film is very striking and joins the ranks of “films shot on handheld cameras to show what a handheld camera can do” (See Blair Witch Project, Bamboozled, and Visitor Q/Love Cinema Series). However, interesting filmmaking does not a good film make. Touching upon the positives, the shaky cam and swift jump cuts give the film an incredibly frantic feel, which is unfortunately diminished by the 148-minute run time. The grain and grunge of the film helped to create a realistic dystopian feel, something that other dystopian films often don’t use to their advantage even when they are set in the slums of the future. The handheld camera work also helped to add tension to the standoff scene. The jump cuts from character to character all wildly pointing their guns around create a rapidness of movement that could only be achieved with this recording style. It also lends itself well to the creative ending of this sequence where the boss uses his finger guns to point and shoot the two remaining gangsters, flitting between the two with two successive shots.

While Swallowtail Butterfly covers a wide gambit of themes and societal critiques, the two that I noticed the most were anti-capitalist ideas and religious overtones. The former is really derived from the setting of the film, Yentown. The town, and its residents who have the lovely moniker of “Yentowns,” are seen under this dirty and grimy lens. Following Ageha as one of the few innocent people left, we see the evil that money and greed can do to the world. I thought that the religious symbols and ideas in the film were very ham fisted. The only one that was somewhat subtle was one of the gangsters who wears a jacket covered in multi-colored crosses when he visits all the prostitutes. Being this interesting prophet for the gangsters, gathering intel and reporting back, yet still being a ruthless killer creates an interesting juxtaposition.

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

I also enjoyed the two match cuts in the film. I felt as if they were a nice artistic bookend to close out the movie. Both of the cuts were incredibly jarring, I think by design in order to remind you of the violence that is come.

Takeshi Kitano: Hana-bi

Initial Reaction

It was interesting to see a film directed by Takeshi Kitano, more well-known as Beat Takeshi. Before taking this class, I did not know that Kitano produced films as he is more famous in Japan as a comedian/commentator. That being said, I did not know much about him prior to watching this film, because I haven’t really watched anything he’s in. After taking a look into his background, he seems to be as violent as the films he produced with Hana-bi (花火) being no exception. This comes as no surprise, since he is considered to be one of the most controversial celebrities in Japan. Two of his most famous violence-related incidents are 1) raiding Friday (1986), a tabloid, with 11 other men which he received a 6-month prison sentence for and 2) driving a motorcycle under the influence (1994) in which some of his face remains permanently paralyzed. While I imagine that it would be beneficial to analyze Hana-bi with consideration of his life events and character, I will not be doing so in this post.  

Cinematography

My first impression of this film was that there’s a lot of fluidity in the cuts. From Nishi smoking a cigarette when visiting his wife at the hospital to the swift cut of the close-up of the pistol that fires Horibe, and from the injured Horibe opening the car door to the cut to a nurse opening the door to Miyuki’s ward. This fluidity from Nishi’s cuts to Horibe’s cuts from the start allows the audience to focus on the juxtaposition between two men who both lead a similar life of having had a “normal” family at one point, having worked as a police officer, and coping with the loss of losing their wife and child. Despite life throwing similar hurdles at them, the two choose to live in completely different ways. Horibe chooses to live a life of non-violence and expresses himself through art, while Nishi chooses to live a life of violence and expresses himself with his hands. Considering the ending of the film, perhaps Kitano is trying to depict how “living” means something different to every person. Horibe chooses to live, despite feeling empty and full of despair at losing his family and his ability to walk, while Nishi who is healthy in comparison chooses to live his life to the fullest and die alongside his sick wife, because he sees no meaning to live without her. It is worth noting that Horibe figuratively seems to die as can be seen from his paintings of the animals and flowers with the creatures losing their facial recognition progressively until the whole flower becomes their face. Additionally, Horibe’s wish to die can be seen from his painting of snow with the words of “suicide” hidden, but he ultimately chooses not to. I think the title of this film, Hana-bi, sums up the nature of this film well. It is said that Kitano was planning to simply call the film “Takeshi’s 7th film” at first, which his staff obviously didn’t agree to. Fortunately, he left it up to his staff to create the title which ended up being Hana-bi which signifies life (flower, “hana”) and death (fire, “bi”).

[intro-to-japanese-film-blog-2022]

Hana-bi Takeshi Kitano

Quiet and subdued acting coupled with intense spurts of graphic violence, Kitano’s Hana-bi brings us gracefully into the Yakuza genre. While still on the outside of the syndicates, Kitano allows us to see the impact they have directly on life in Japan through the eyes of an ex-cop. Being extorted from a loan shark, Nishi gets around having to repay them through his unmatched fighting skills. Killing and injuring every Yakuza character we see, Nishi hunts for peace in his life in order to help himself and his wife. Kitano’s character, Yoshitaka Nishi, echoes the bad-ass nature felt in characters like Inspector Callahan in Eastwood’s Dirty Harry series. The hypermasculine nature extends outside of just his violence, bleeding into his home life. In many scenes he separates himself from his wife, like when he does not allow her to hold his arm when they are taking the picture at the rock garden. However, we do see the softer side of Nishi in the film after he robs the bank. Taking his sick wife everywhere she wants to go before she dies, including the touching scene at the end of the film where he holds here before they commit suicide together. Plagued with trauma from the loss of their child and the strain of having killed so many, they clearly needed an escape from their seemingly never-ending pain.

Touching more upon the violence in the film, I feel as if Kitano pulled a few punches here to keep it both tasteful and realistic. Many films dealing with organized crime as criticized as being hyper-violent and over the top, Hana-bi is on the opposite end of the spectrum. Only depicting violence, when necessary, Kitano frames his character as the center of the stage. Nishi is not only the problem in the film but is also the solution. The blood and shooting were well timed and was never gratuitous, everything here was gritty and realistic without looking gritty. This is another aspect of the film that adds to its palatability. Without having the grimy and dingy look of something focused on the underground, Kitano uses the fact that he is dealing with the outside perspective looking in. Capitalizing on the clean look and nearly too bright color palate of the film in order to never cast our lead, or any character from memory, in shadow.