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Film: The Cat Returns
Release date: 26th September 2005
Certificate: PG
Running time: 75 mins
Director: Hiroyuki Morita
Starring: Chizuru Ikewaki, Yoshihiko Hakamada, Aki Maeda, Takayuki Yamada, Hitomi Satô
Genre: Anime
Studio: Optimum
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
Despite the talented Hiroyuki Morita helping with the animation of a variety of Studio Ghibli classics over the years, including the likes of Kiki’s Delivery Service, The Cat Returns marks his one and only directorial debut. This opportunity was not wasted, however, with a film truly transporting both audience and protagonists alike to a magical realm as only a Ghibli film can.
Haru (Chizuru Ikewaki) is a perpetually tardy teenager with a tendency to oversleep, skip meals and fail in her attempts at creeping into class unnoticed. When walking home with a friend, she sees a cat in danger of being hit by a van and opts to rescue it, scooping it up in her lacrosse stick and hurtling it to safety just in time. As she brushes herself off, the cat stands up, bows and thanks her, leaving her doubting her sanity.
Later that night, the Kingdom of Cats descends upon her home with the king in tow to personally thank her, for the cat she rescued was his son, Prince Lune, heir to the throne. The cats undertake a project to express their ‘maximum gratitude’ to Haru, who wakes up smelling of cat-nip, before finding a garden of cats-tails and her school locker filled with mice. These cat-based gifts take their toll on Haru, and upon spotting one of the cats from the kingdom, she expresses her anger. At this point, it is suggested that she come to the kingdom and marry Prince Lune. Her nonsensical mumbling is taken as a yes and she is left with the knowledge that the cats will be coming to claim her, whether she likes it or not.
A mysterious voice floats through the air and warns Haru not to go to the kingdom, but to go to the crossroads and find a large white cat to take her to the Cat Bureau. After she accidentally sits on a plump, disgruntled cat by the name of Muta (Tetsu Watanabe), she is begrudgingly shown the way to the Bureau where she meets the Baron (Yoshihiko Hakamada) and Toto. As they discuss a way in which to help Haru, dozens of cats burst through the doors and windows, kidnapping her and dragging her to the Cat Kingdom. While Muta manages to stay with them, the Baron and Toto are left behind to seek out the kingdom themselves.
Upon her arrival, Haru begins to gradually turn into a cat and weeps while she has fish presented to her as her dinner at a banquet. The Baron throws the feast into chaos as he arrives to reclaim Haru and, with the help of Muta, the three of them take on the guards of the kingdom and enter into a long and arduous maze in an attempt to reach the portal back to the real world. ..
Studio Ghibli have become associated with beautifully crafted images, surreal, fantastical and often mythical worlds, as well as a deep-rooted sense of humour, which is expressed in all of their films. The Cat Returns is no exception to this, although the surreal humour is perhaps more in line with the likes of Pom Poko than it is with Spirited Away. For instance, the cats of the kingdom are differently marked, and in one scene a group of black-and-white cats, whose fur coats appear as suits, enter into a neighbourhood as bodyguards, kicking at the faces of other cats and hurling them over walls and into trees. Further humour is derived from the misfortune of cats, when later they are hurled out of a window hundreds of feet above the ground because they fail to entertain Haru.
Whilst the film is primarily comedic in content, much of that humour is thanks to the lack of empathy that any of the cats seem able to experience. Muta is a source of constant amusement with a permanent attitude problem and the cats of the kingdom have a seeming inability to empathise with Haru on any level. Natoru, one of the servants to the king, is the most insensitive, and upon finding out that Haru won’t go to the feast because Muta has drowned in a bowl of cat-nip jelly, rather than help, he simply wheels the tub of jelly to the table so that she will follow. It is not a simple comedy, however, with a complex range of emotions explored within the film, including love, friendship and sanity itself.
The story deals with a sense of lost or hidden identity within the characters, most of whom are either losing or have lost themselves, or those who are not as they appear to be. For example, the king has a gradually slipping sanity, and he continues to lose a grip on his mind as well as his kingdom. This is initially considered in the introduction to the Baron and Toto, both of whom are inanimate statues given souls by the love their creators had for them. Neither of them are who they appear to be and their cohort Muta turns out to have been hiding his true identity as the violent criminal Ronaldo Moon from everyone. The Baron’s advice to a baffled Haru was to always remember who she is, but as she turns progressively into a cat, she gradually loses a grip of reality. It is not until the finale of the film, when backed into a corner, that she finally takes a firm grip on her identity and stands up to the king and all of his servants.
The Cat Returns follows the standard process of equilibrium-disequilibrium-equilibrium, but can be considered as an example of embracing change as well as the things we have. Haru is changed by her experiences and by the end of the film is a polar opposite to the bed-headed girl rushing to make it to school on time in the beginning. Rather than marvel at her lucky escape from a feline fate, or revelling in the events of the past day, Haru adapts her life completely: she is awake, on time, able to prepare breakfast and even goes so far as to steal the Baron’s tea recipe.
The return of Muta and the Baron, previously seen in Whisper Of The Heart, may not have been widely anticipated, but it is certainly appreciated with the production of a funny, witty animation which can proudly join its Ghibli siblings, and unlike the Baron’s secret tea recipe, this film does not vary each time. JK
Film: El Mariachi
Running time: 81 mins
Director: Robert Rodriguez
Starring: Carlos Gallardo, Consuelo Gómez, Jaime de Hoyos, Peter Marquardt, Reinol Martinez
Genre: Action/Crime/Drama/Thriller
Country: Mexico/USA
Region 1 release.
Robert Rodriguez built up a spectacular CV when he took on every film role going in order to finance El Mariachi. The film not only spawned two sequels (making up his Mexican Trilogy), but it signified the beginning of a long and illustrious career in the industry.
Local gangster Moco (Peter Marquardt) makes an attempt on the life of his ex partner-in-crime Azul (Reinol Martinez). Moco’s theft of his share from their last job left Azul angry, but the botched plan to end his life allows him to escape from his cell with only revenge on his mind. Once he is free, he arms himself with a guitar case filled with knuckle dusters, knives and guns, and heads into town to a local bar. When Moco isn’t there, he murders everyone except the barman, who is left alive to let Moco know what has happened in his bar.
On the same day, a practicing mariachi (Carlos Gallardo) arrives in the town in search of steady work. Wandering from bar to bar around town looking for work, he becomes the target of Moco’s henchmen because he matches their description of “dressed in black, carrying a guitar case.” When finally pushed to his limit, he is forced to kill four of the men in the name of self-preservation.
Embroiled in a feud he has no real place in, local bar owner Domino (Consuelo Gómez) takes pity on him, and allows him to stay in her room in exchange for his services in the bar. The mariachi falls in love with his host who is also the object of Moco’s affections, and when Azul goes to her bar looking for her, the two guitar cases finally get mixed up between the targets. This switch saves Azul’s life when he is stopped in the street at gunpoint, however, it leaves the mariachi with a case filled with weapons, forced to fight not only for his own life but for the life of the woman he has grown to love...
El Mariachi is a visibly cheap film, a product of an inexpensive camera and grainy film stock, but for a creation of just $7000 in 1992, it’s a testament to Rodriguez’s abilities to adapt. Many shots in the film appear to be obscure and inconsiderately angled, while others are cut off and don’t include everything you would expect in a shot. This can make the film frustrating in places, although combined with the gritty feeling provided by the old film stock, it does create a certain sense of atmosphere. This is most notable in the nightmare sequences shot in burnt out, abandoned and dusty locations.
One of the most notable elements within the film is the silence, which is an odd sensation when the majority of films prepare audiences for a constant supply of both diegetic and non-diegetic sounds. However, because the film was shot silently with the sound recorded separately, there are moments within the film lacking any sound at all, despite being in an overly crowded traffic zone. These silent moments are strangely distracting from the film, and more time can be spent in noticing them than in enjoying the film.
El Mariachi is essentially a comedy under the guise of an action flick. It may well contain countless gun shots and exploding chests, but almost everything about the film is designed to amuse the audience more than it is to shock or thrill, right from the first time the mariachi kills in self-defence – he runs across the roof of a car, and as two gunmen turn to shoot him, they dramatically send a hail of bullets into each other’s chest. This, like most other pictures, is one that requires the suspension of disbelief.
Essentially designed as a pastiche of older Spanish movies, the film retains a certain sense of childishness throughout, from the cheesy dialogue to the main gangster being named Moco – a rough translation of which is ‘booger’. The sound effects alone are a great contribution in this respect, such as the cartoon-styled cracking of bones and dialling of phones. The humour can be quite surreal, however: a bartender refuses the mariachi’s services on the grounds that he has a whole mariachi band – at which point one man in a sombrero steps forward with a pre-recorded ‘tune’ on an electric keyboard, complete with electronic shouts of “yeah” every few seconds.
The acting is superb, and Peter Marquardt’s hyperbolic performance alone sets a marvellous tone within the film. He creates a spectacular parody of the stereotypical gangster with a deranged edge to his every action. In the finale, his erratic behaviour is a perfect send-up of almost every gangster movie. Despite the film’s significant concentration on Domino and the mariachi, it is Moco who steals the film.
El Mariachi has no qualms about ridiculing itself, which makes it far more palatable than its obvious low-budget would normally allow, and while it might take some effort on the part of the audience to gain an emotional investment, it’s worth letting it play to the end. JK
Film: Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles
Release date: 13th August 2007
Certificate: PG
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Yimou Zhang & Yasuo Furuhata
Starring: Ken Takakura, Kiichi Nakai, Jiang Wen, Shinobu Terajima, Qiu Lin
Genre: Drama
Studio: Sony
Format: DVD
Country: Hong Kong/China/Japan
Yimou Zhang and his long-time director of photography Xiaoding Zhao, the pair of whom crafted the beautiful House Of Flying Daggers and Curse Of The Golden Flower, once again create a film of stunning beauty both visually and emotionally, as a father begins his quest to get closer to his son.
Gou-ichi Takata (Ken Takakura) has become estranged from his son over many years, and his only remaining link is his daughter-in-law, Rie (Shinobu Terajima), who is desperately trying to get Ken-ichi to see his father again. When Takata discovers that his son has terminal cancer, he travels into central Tokyo for the first time in more than a decade only to find his son rejecting his visit.
In a desperate attempt for her father-in-law to know his son, Rie hands him a tape of her husband’s television work on his greatest love – Chinese folk operas. In a final bid to do something for his son, Takata decides to go to China to find singer Li Jiamin, watch his performance of Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles, and film it for his son.
He is impeded every step of the way by protocol, suspicion, the fact that he is a gaijin (foreigner) and, most of all, by the fact that the performer his son wanted to see now resides in a prison. Takata works tirelessly with the help of an unlikely friend, Lingo, and a kindly translator, as his quest takes him deep into rural China to find another man’s son, so he can find his own…
Those more accustomed to Zhang’s previous works might consider Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to be altogether more simplistic. With this film, the visuals, whilst astounding, are overshadowed by a set of heartfelt performances from a dedicated and talented cast. The performance provided by Ken Takakura is especially engaging, as his character is forced to come to terms with facts about himself and his son. His performance is both endearing and heart-rending, filled with poignancy and pain. In one conversation, realising just how little he ever knew his son, he implores his translator to “tell me about my son,” only to discover that despite their differences, they were more similar than either of them ever knew.
The film is able to tackle a wide range of complex emotions from loss, grievance and fear, to elation and comfort, and throughout the film, there are constant reminders of the level of isolation the characters are suffering. Takata is in a country where he can’t speak the language, and is dependent on a phone signal to get translations; Yang Yang is an orphan before Takata appears to take him to his father; Rie is left with only a dying husband; and the further the film develops, the further into rural China they travel, and the more isolated the environments become. The performances afforded by the cast are responsible for much of the on screen emotion. It is, however, a boon to discover a film dealing with pain and isolation that somehow still manages to incorporate a subtle humour throughout the film, such as the repeated prison scenes in which, despite being a folk opera, the warden deems it necessary to have a disco light rotating – simply because it is there. Slight elements of humour throughout the film enable a somewhat bitter film to become far more palatable.
The pace of the film occasionally develops a sluggish feeling, however, but it is rapidly compensated for by a set of astounding visuals, which might not live up to the likes of House Of Flying Daggers but still manage to create a picturesque beauty out of the most barren and inhospitable landscapes. These landscapes contribute to the isolated feeling constant within the film, and Zhao’s cinematography allows a feeling of warmth to even a sheltered cavern in the wilderness - and the very simplicity and natural beauty of the shot allows the film a depth previously unplumbed.
Whilst there is predictability within the film that cannot be denied, there is a shift in the archetypal characters, which makes the film more interesting. The seemingly generic plot of a sick father attempting to make amends to his children is sometimes overplayed after so many years, but subverting it to a surviving father trying to make amends to a dying child is slightly more novel, and allows Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles to interact with slightly different subject matters. The idea of a child burying a parent is distressing but a part of life, whereas the idea of a parent burying a child is open to a more emotional impact. The film is ready and willing to tug at the heartstrings, and does so with as much vigour as any tear-jerker out there,
This is not a standard tear-jerker – it is a film that grips you, that you feel, and one that reminds you what the important things in life really are, if only for the duration. This bittersweet film might seem slightly predictable in places, but it is a film that truly proves it’s not the destination that counts, it’s the journey. JK
