Солнце (The Sun)

Directed byAlexander Sokurov

(2004)

Built round a superbly restrained performance by Issey Ogata as Japanese wartime emperor Hirohito, director Alexander Sokurov’s portrait of the transition in 1945 of Japan into a defeated power is one of the first true classics of 21st century cinema.

The film slowly and meticulously follows Hirohito during the last few days of the Second World War, through to surrender, his first meetings with Allied commander Douglas MacArthur and the eventual renunciation of his divine status. The plot is fairly bare bones in a way that will put off a mainstream audience, but those that have the patience to stay with the film will discover a masterful character study. The portrayal of Hirohito and indeed the film as a whole is meticulous in detail, but painfully slow in pace. That doesn’t make for a cinematic roller coaster ride but it does allow the viewer time to examine Hirohito in great detail.

The life of the Japanese emperor is shown as incredibly restricting, with Hirihito hardly ever alone, and even when he is he remains under close surveillance from servants and captors. Yet at the same time he is an incredible lonely man, cut off from the outside world in a society that worships but does not understand him.

Sokurov actually paints a fairly sympathetic portrait of a man many consider culpable in the Japanese war crimes of the Second World War. That issue is never resolved within the film, nor is an attempt made to do so. What we have instead is an examination of a man worshiped as a living God, who renounces that role and only then begins to show a more human outward demeanour.

Overall – Not a film for everyone, but a mesmerising character study none the less. Sukurov shows the transformation of a man struggling with his grasp on reality to one who seems to understand more than those around him the new found realities of Japanese occupation. The morality of Hirohito’s wartime record is addressed but never resolved, leading to a sympathetic, perhaps overly sympathetic, portrayal of the man behind the title, Emperor of Japan.

Ashes of Time redux

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai

(1994) re-edited 2008

Like As Tears Go By, another of his early films that seems to wonder slightly from the usual template, Ashes of Time may have the trappings of a Chinese martial arts film, but in essence it remains firmly in the familiar Wong Kar-Wai territory of an emotional and mildly philosophical drama. Fans of Wuxia movies will find little action to enjoy here as what fight scenes there are remain framed in slowed down close up that accentuates the beauty and fluidity of movement rather than a wider shot that reveals the full brutality of combat.

That reluctance to reveal the full picture is mirrored by a slow moving plot and non-linear story line that constantly leaves you wondering exactly where you are in the action. A single viewing of this film is almost certainly insufficient to fully understand who each of the characters are and how their lives interact with each other.

The plot centres on Ouyang Feng, a swordsman for hire who also acts as an intermediary between others in his profession and their potential customers. He is a man who has withdrawn from life after losing his one chance for true love. The other characters he meets in the film have taken a similar path through life but found a different outcome. It is the different outlooks and fates of these people that are used by the director to create a meditation on love, loss, memory and destiny.

Overall – Set in ancient China, Ashes of Time appears more like a dream than a fantasy. Everything it seems, is just out of touch, from the characters understanding of their place in life to a viewers understanding of the story line itself.  The film is beautiful to look at, with some of the set piece imagery likely to linger long in the mind. The problem is that Ashes of Time is just a little too abstract. I’ve no problem with having to go back and re-view a film to discover all the nuances missed on first viewing.  But having to do so to work out exactly who is who and how they are linked to each other suggests the director, in this case someone I admire greatly, has tried just a little bit too hard to be clever.

Once Upon a Time in the Midlands

Directed by Shane Meadows

(2002)

Probably the most mainstream of Shane Meadows films so far, certainly the highest profile cast, and yet for me, his least effective work to date. Although coming from a huge Meadows fan that still makes it far superior to the average Hollywood counterpart.

Set in an unnamed Midlands town – and shot in Nottingham – the story centres round a classic love-triangle. Jimmy a good-for-nothing small –time crook spots Shirley, his ex-girlfriend and mother of his estranged daughter, reject a marriage proposal from her new love, Dek, live on a popular daytime TV show. Determined to win her back he sets off after a bungled robbery that leaves him with the loot and his accomplices in danger of being captured by the law. Once ‘back in town’ a stand off develops between the two men, whilst Shirley decides between them.

For the most part the film works, as the undercurrent of humour is played, but never over-played, by a cast skilled in comic acting. A number of scenes are cleverly set up to resemble sequences from Westerns – which would presumably explain the bizarrely deserted streets the story is shot in. Less convincing is the sub-plot surrounding Jimmy’s gang tracking him down for their share of the loot; it just feels far too tacked on, merely a plot device. Similarly the conflict Shirley feels in her decision over which man to choice is never quite as convincing as you’d hope for.

Overall: Familiar themes about the bonds that bind us and the parental figures that children choose are evident in an enjoyable film that doesn’t quite reach the heights of Shane Meadows other work.

Le Chagrin et la Pitie (The Sorrow and the Pity)

Directed by Marcel Ophüls

(1969)

A four hour, two-part documentary on the occupation of France during the second world war might not sound like everyone’s “tasse de thé”, but this is certainly a film everybody should find time to see. Michael Moore, for one, could learn a lot from Marcel Ophüls’ ability to tell a story using the voices of those who experienced it rather than to drown them out by overt editorialising.

Originally filmed in 1969, it’s easy to see why ‘The Sorrow and the Pity’ received only a limited cinema release and had to wait twelve years before being shown on French television. The story told about the occupation of one French City, Clermont-Ferrand, will have been uncomfortable watching for many that lived through that period.

Ophüls pulls no punches as he interviews a bewildering cross-section of those involved from France, Germany and Britain, and from Government ministers, down through soldiers to the ordinary citizenry. The attitude of the French to defeat and occupation, both during and after the fact, is examined in great detail – with no sop made to national pride as the extent of collaboration is compared to resistance.

From a safe distance across the English Channel it’s easy to sit in judgement. Easy to point to the large partisan armies of Yugoslavia and Belarus – whilst conveniently ignoring the lack of terrain France had to hide such a force. It’s best to listen to Anthony Eden, Britain’s foreign secretary during the war, who dismisses such notions when interviewed in the film – “One who has not suffered the horrors of an occupying power has no right to judge a nation that has.” He is quite right, as the core of the film are the questions it poses to us all. How would we have reacted? Would we have resisted or collaborated? How would our country react in the same situation as France?

Overall – A master class in how to film and edit a documentary. Even handed, honest and unflinching in it’s quest for truth, ‘The Sorrow and the Pity’ is not only a great piece of film making, but given that most of those interviewed during its making will now be dead, it also forms an invaluable historical document.

This Is England

Directed by Shane Meadows

(2006)

Another superb ensemble piece from Shane Meadows. Set in early 80’s Britain and featuring one of the best soundtracks I’ve heard in a long time, ‘This is England’ is loosely based on Meadows’ own childhood experiences with skinhead culture.

Bullied at school, 12 year old Shaun finds acceptance with a local skinhead gang and in its leader Woody, a male role model to replace his father who’d been killed on active service in the Falklands war. Whilst concerned about his sudden change in appearance, Shaun’s mother recognises the gang as a positive influence on his life that has given him a more confident, outgoing attitude.

Things change when ex-gang member Combo returns from a stint in prison with a malevolent sidekick, Banjo, and a new found interest in racist ideology.  The gang is split in two with Woody leading a non-political group and Combo dragging the rest closer towards his right-wing views.

Whilst initially siding with Combo, Shaun remains a bridge between the two groups and as events turn ever more serious he is faced with making a choice that will ultimately determine the course of the rest of his life.

Overall – As usual with Meadows the acting is superb, with Thomas Turgoose, in his first ever film role as Shaun, a revelation.  The narrative is simple but compelling, and entirely convincing. Familiar Meadows themes about the search for a father figure and being driven by the dark side of our nature are to be found in what is one of the best British films of the last few years.

As Tears Go By

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai

(1988)

Debut feature by Wong Kar-Wai and unusually for him romance is relegated to the sub-plot of what is a fairly conventional crime thriller. Asian big city nightlife is a familiar canvas for the director, although he is yet to link up with the cinematography of visual genius Christopher Doyle. The plot about a small time gangster trying to keep his erratic side kick out of trouble is pretty slight, but yet still has more meat-on-the-bones than later character driven films from the same writer/director. The fight sequences are surprisingly violent given Wai’s reputation whilst Maggie Cheung has little to do bar deliver some surprisingly leaden dialogue. But for all those limitations the overall package is quite a decent film with some interesting things to say about how we choose to live our lives.

Overall – a good film that hints at greater things to come, without being a stand out movie in its own right.

La Double Vie de Véronique (The Double Life of Veronique)

Directed by Krzysztof Kieslowski

(1991)

A trademark philosophical art-house film from Polish director Krzysztof Kieślowski, and in many ways a precursor to the Three Colours trilogy to come a couple of years later.

The film is dominated by French actress Irene Jacob, who plays the duel roles of Weronika and Véronique; two young women from different backgrounds but similar talents, interests and personalities whose lives are destined to briefly intersect before reaching very different outcomes.

Weronika lives in Poland, and despite poor health pursues a career as a classical singer, a choice that leads to her collapsing and dying during her first public performance. Her doppelganger, Véronique, decides to abandoned her career in musical performance and instead becomes gradually more aware of Weronika as she begins an affair with an older man who works as a puppeteer.

Whilst the use of colour and music are very reminiscent of the later Three Colours Trilogy, the themes of fate and the effect choices we make have on the outcome of our lives, is much closer to an earlier Kieślowski film, Blind Chance.

Overall – A stunning art-house film that requires multiple viewing to fully understand it, yet despite being a favourite of Kieślowski fans, for me it’s not at the same level as some of his other work.

Pokolenie (A Generation)

Directed by Andrzej Wajda

(1955)

The debut feature by Andrzej Wajda is a coming of age tale about young Poles joining the resistance during nazi occupation, and was made by a cast and crew predominately just out of film school. That inexperience shows at times with some poor editing, clumsy lighting and a story line that could have been tightened considerably. The overt class war ideology espoused by the more sympathetically draw resistance characters who are communists can grate on a modern viewer, but in contrast the doubts and uncertainties expressed by individual fighters are much more of a bold step for a first time director working in 1950’s Poland. The two leads are experienced actors and give good performances, whilst the film has some nice touches, notably the famous shoot out on the spiral staircase, a scene that has been copied a number of times since.

Overall – inexperience shows behind the camera, but enough innovation is displayed to suggest a real talent might have been found.

Days of Being Wild

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai

(1991)

First of a loose trilogy from director Wong Kar-Wai that was to conclude with In the Mood For Love and 2046, and one of the first of his films that conform to the low-plot, high characterisation template he was to become famous for.

The story centres round Yuddy (Leslie Cheung), a playboy whose nonchalant attitude to love is perhaps a result of the temperamental relationship he has with his adopted mother. He lurches from one girl to another, abandoning them as soon as they appear to be developing too much of an emotional attachment.

The first of these girls is Li Zhen (Maggie Cheung) who is heart-broken by the causal manner and lack of commitment shown by Yuddy. She goes on to have a platonic relationship with a policeman, Tide (Andy Lau), in what could be seen as a foreshadowing of the central relationship involving the same actress from In the Mood for Love. The second girl to take Yuddy’s fancy, the more emotionally mature nightclub dancer, Mimi was to later re-appear in the film 2046 under the name Lulu.

Overall – A film that is very much the template for Wong Kar-Wai’s work, with a stunning visual palette of colours and a tale of love, loss and redemption. The central character’s inability to find happiness in love is contrasted with his desire to re-connect with his maternal mother. Not the very best of this directors work, but a fine film none the less, and one the sets up the greatness to follow.

My Blueberry Nights

Directed by Wong Kar-Wai

(2007)

Oh dear, what a let down. As a big fan of director Wong Kar-Wai I have to say that his first English language feature, My Blueberry Nights, is a great disappointment.

Most of the familiar elements of his work have made the transition from China: top-notch cinematography, a well judged musical score and a concentration on subtle character development are all in evidence. So what lets it down? Well, pretty high up on the list would have to be the casting of Norah Jones in the lead role. It’s not that she’s a bad actress as such, although she’s in no way a good one either, but she has an almost complete lack of screen presence. Appearing in virtually every scene and with large parts of the film shot in close-up on her face, she fails to make any kind of impression on you at all. She merely exists on screen rather than lights it up. The sheer scale of her failure is highlighted in a sub-plot involving a character played by Nataile Portman, who simply blows her off screen by sheer force of personality and acting ability. It’s almost embarrassing.

The plot, for those still interested, revolves round a young woman recovering from the ending of a long-term relationship. She forms a friendship with Jeremy (Jude Law) the owner of a curiously empty New York late night café and sends him postcards as she starts to travel across America moving from place to place, job to job, ‘in search of herself’. Jeremy in turn makes desperate attempts to contact her back, so he can reveal the depth of feelings he has developed for her.

Overall – Many of the usual elements of director Wong Kar-Wai’s work is present, all perhaps except for the outstanding quality of his leading ladies from Chinese cinema. I hope he has another attempt at making an English language feature, but given that regular muse Maggie Cheung spent a large part of her early life growing up in England, he might want to consider her for his leading lady rather than ill-considered left field choices like Norah Jones.