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Film: Bran Nue Dae
Year of production: 2009
UK Release date: 4th July 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 12
Running time: 72 mins
Director: Rachel Perkins
Starring: Rocky McKenzie, Jessica Mauboy, Ernie Dingo, 'Missy' Higgins, Geoffrey Rush
Genre: Comedy/Drama/Musical
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Australia
Language: English
Review by: Calum Reed
In many ways, Bran Nue Dae does exactly what it says on the tin; the phonetic spelling of its title intoning the musical motivations of a song-and-dance comedy intuitively focused upon Australia’s Aboriginal culture. In a similar vein as Warwick Thornton’s biblically-titled Samson And Delilah, Rachel Perkins’ feature is concerned with the fate of Australian youth – but rather than depict this through symbolic imagery, opts for much lighter methods to help us relate to its protagonists.
Celebrated by Australian critics and audiences alike, Bran Nue Dae is based on Jimmy Chi’s 1990 stage musical of the same name, and tells the story of Willie (Rocky McKenzie), a timid teenager training to become a priest in a Perth school. Willie’s rash mistakes lead to an early crisis of faith, and a bust-up with the stubborn Father Benedictus (Geoffrey Rush) prompting him to decide to return to his hometown of Broome. With no way of getting there, he must find alternative means, which come courtesy of ‘Tadpole’ (Ernie Dingo), a scruffy-looking elderly drifter with a drink problem who eventually helps Willie on his way by feigning a car accident and wangling a ride from two touring hippies.
From there, Bran Nue Dae follows the adventures of man and boy as they navigate the testier characters between them and their destination; nameably, the seductresses vying to take Willie’s cherry. It’s largely a courtship of musical numbers and farcical comedy, as it charts the pair’s eventual return to home and their confrontation with the lives that have kept them estranged from Broome.
As well as struggling with his sense of purpose and uncertain future, Willie must cope with his attraction to childhood friend Rosie, and face the wrath of his formidable mother…
In shading its animated characters as vibrant, tearaway lyric-busters, Perkins’ film assumes the position of a socially-conscious carnival – seemingly keen to revise representations of Indigenous Australians as regressive or obsolete. This is achieved through following the conventions of coming-of-age-tale narratives, pitting Willie as a firm underdog within this brazen, eclectic, and evolved world, and emphasising his lack of confidence (and for that matter, others’ lack of confidence in him) as the main obstacle to be overcome. Bran Nue Dae goes with the grain in detailing this Australia as colourful, and surrounding its modest central character with a fun-loving cavalcade of down-to-earth extroverts to bring him out.
The child-like feel to Bran Nue Dae recalls films with an inherently educational purpose, and its paddling, foolhardy style helps it to maintain some interest. Unfortunately, the characters and story are developed either minimally, or with such little care, that it all becomes a big washout. It’s difficult to relate to the looseness and hyperactivity of the film’s ‘crazy gang’, and Rocky McKenzie isn’t a very interesting actor to watch - understandably struggling to make an impression with the dominance placed on upping the quirks and confining Willie to a state of wide-eyed wonderment.
Appreciating this film may be reliant upon whether you buy into the personalities on show. If nothing else, Bran Nue Dae adorns its musical set-pieces with character (in the way that the Jewish musical Fiddler On The Roof manages to) to create a permanent state of whimsy to these people. Their congregation liberates them. And still, as the upbeat, Jungle Book-esque tracks engage, they also feel very infantile. ‘All I Ever Want To Be (Is To Be An Aborigine)’ is not the most profound of messages – nor does it have to be – but when the cast sing it there isn’t a lot of clarity as to what this euphoric cultural celebration means beyond embracing working class life – which is a popular statement in the genre as it is. There’s a wiry thread of social commentary in the references to sexual experimentation in adolescence: the lyric “If you don’t use a condom then don’t bother coming home,” for instance, references the problems of teenage pregnancy; while on the other side of the coin, Father Benedictus acts as a critiqued, narrow white perspective on Aboriginal life.
The final few scenes of this modest, 70-minute film feel especially rushed, as a wave of revelations and back-story come to cloud a pretty straightforward pilgrimage. Bran Nue Dae had been so unconcerned with providing a non-figurative history to its characters before this that it feels like both an abrupt surprise and a desperate search for finality to divulge so much information in one silly, overplayed late sequence. All of the characters’ difficulties are thoughtlessly and barely tied up, and the message that the film ends on is virtually the same one with which it began: positivity and belonging are the spice of life.
The inclusivity of Bran Nue Dae and its snap-happy tone come at a price: too much emphasis is placed on generating surfeits of ‘fun’, while there is precious little revealed about what it means to be a 16-year-old boy growing up in a small town. The comedy too often errs on the side of meaningless farce, and it buys into familiar tropes to detail adolescence - like unwanted virginity and a lack of a father figure. Bran Nue Dae may be popularly advocated as a harmless pocket of cross-country activity, but its disappointing ineffectuality and lack of ambition are reasons enough to stay away.
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Film: An Ordinary Execution
Year of production: 2010
UK Release date: 4th July 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 15
Running time: 105 mins
Director: Marc Dugain
Starring: André Dussollier, Marina Hands, Edouard Baer, Denis Podalydès, Tom Novembre
Genre: Drama/History
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French
Review by: Patrick Gamble
Ripped straight from the pages of his own 2007 novel, director Marc Dugain has created an ambitious, slow burning and incredibly uncomfortable portrait of life under state control in Joseph Stalin’s Russia.
Anna (Marina Hands) and her physicist husband, Vassilli (Edouard Baer) are trying desperately to conceive. However, whilst home life may be filled with the constant throws of marital passion, most of Anna’s time is consumed by her contrastingly distressing role within the local hospital. During a time when Jewish doctors were being forcibly expelled and seemingly innocent people disappearing without a word, tensions are at an all time high. With the accompanying paranoia leading to a less than happy work environment, Anna’s life couldn’t be any more fraught with fear and danger.
Anna’s beautiful appearance and popularity with the local patients (due to the rumoured healing aura which radiates from her hands) has made her the chosen target of this unrelenting mist of hatred which now consumes the infirmary’s corridors. One day, to her terror, two officers dressed in dark overcoats come looking for her at the surgery and insist she accompanies them.
However, the car transporting Anna drives past the renowned Moscow interrogation centre and she soon finds herself in a dimly lit, ominously empty waiting room inside the Kremlin. After hours of patiently waiting, it becomes apparent she is here to see Stalin. The renowned dictator offers her a position she neither wants nor can refuse. It’s an incredibly secretive position which involves working closely with the fascist Soviet oppressor and, much to her dismay, means having to reject her old life - including the husband she loves dearly - in a vain attempt to save not just him but her whole family from certain death…
This intoxicating chamber piece manages to create an atmosphere of fear and impending misery through dialogue and framing alone, in what is truly an accomplished piece of drama with strong overtones of historical importance neatly presented on a bed of highly original fiction.
By creating a fictitious world for his events to unfold, director and writer Marc Dugain has managed to avoid the usual constraints which normally surround historical epics, leaving him with free reign to present his story without having to succumb to the rigorous facts and recorded truths of the history books. An unyieldingly strict approach can often hinder the enjoyment for those viewers unwilling to accept such a strong factual focus in lieu of any added erroneousness strands otherwise injected to titillate whilst driving the narrative forward. Anyone with even the remotest knowledge of Russian history is aware of the monstrous events which Stalin implemented, so having such a well established villain as the central antagonist means the script can forgo the usual time consuming and arduous task of back-story building, an element of storytelling which can often be detrimental to the overall enjoyment of a film. Instead our focus is strongly set on Anna, allowing us plenty of insight into this deeply tormented woman’s life, which only enhances the extent of her emotionally exhausting journey.
Tremendously shot through a plethora of drained lifeless colours, and against a backdrop of shadows, the film’s cinematograph perfectly reflects the atmosphere during this desolate time of oppression and anxiety. The sympathetic use of framing perfectly captures the mood which encases the film’s two central characters, allowing the actors to fully explore their roles and thus creating a set of enormously accomplished performances which ultimately carry the film.
Marina Hands is utterly mesmerising. Without having to say a word, she manages to convey a wide range of emotions through subtle use of body language alone. Her expressive face could convey even the darkest of burdens with relative ease and is relied upon numerous times throughout this slow but thoughtful film. However, it’s Andre Dussolier in the role of the repugnant dictator who steals the show with his colossal on screen presence. Seeming like the devil in a trench coat, Dussolier radiates a sinister demeanour that sends an instant chill through your bones the moment he appears. The few attempts at humour injected into this fierce leader’s lines come across with an uncomfortable tone that’ll you’ll find yourself laughing at, not through genuine amusement but an uncomfortable mix of fear and duty. Such a role could easily have fallen into pantomime villainy, yet instead manages to convey the human side behind the truly malevolent actions of one of the 20th century’s most predominant figures.
However, a gripping script and strong performances cannot carry a film alone. And whilst moments like Dussolier reading direct Stalin quotes, such as “The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of a million is a statistic,” is undoubtedly powerful stuff, An Ordinary Execution does suffer from some weak direction. It’s clear that Dugain’s strength lies in his wonderful ability to write genuinely immersive dialogue, but the film itself has seemingly been created using very formulaic and workmen like techniques, with none of the flare shown in the script being translated visually. As flaws go, it’s hardly the most damning of criticisms; however, it does prevent the film from transcending the genre of period drama into something more necessary, ultimately leaving it in the no man’s land between high concept television and engrossing cinema.
For the two central performances alone, An Ordinary Execution should be classed as a must watch, with both leads pulling off incredibly moving and intense portrayals that cry out for greater recognition. Unfortunately, as a complete film, An Ordinary Execution fails to make the most of it impressive acting talent and immaculately crafted script, which sadly feels like a disappointing conclusion to an otherwise enthralling exploration into this dark period of history.
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Film: Il Generale della Rovere
Year of production: 1959
UK Release date: 4th July 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 12
Running time: 134 mins
Director: Roberto Rossellini
Starring: Vittorio De Sica, Hannes Messemer, Vittorio Caprioli, Nando Angelini, Herbert Fischer
Genre: Drama/War
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Italy/France
Language: Italian/Germany
Review by: Matthew Evans
Directed by Roberto Rossellini, one of Italy's most famous neorealist filmmakers, Il Generale della Rovere won the Golden Lion at the Venice Film Festival in 1959. Set during the Second World War, it seeks out and explores the darker aspects of human nature and many people's opportunist actions during times of war.
It is 1943 and Grimaldi (Vittorio De Sica), an apparent colonel in the Italian army, busies himself by swindling the residents of Genoa. Seeking out families whose loved ones have been imprisoned by the Nazis, Grimaldi promises to use his military contacts to ensure they are neither executed or deported to Germany and, in return, charges sizeable sums of money. However, when the Gestapo catch wind of his actions, he is promptly arrested and hauled before S.S. Colonel Mueller (Hannes Messemer).
But Grimaldi is in for a surprise. Instead of facing trial, which would most likely result in death by firing squad, Mueller makes him an intriguing offer: he may live if he agrees to impersonate the General della Rovere, a leader of the resistance who has, despite Mueller's orders to the contrary, been shot by the Nazis. Assuming the General's identity would land Grimaldi in a political jail for several years, where he would be forced to report back to Mueller with information, but it would save him from almost certain death.
Accepting Mueller's offer, Grimaldi assumes the identity of the General and finds himself charged with the task of identifying another resistance leader. However, as time passes, Grimaldi is torn between his debt to the Nazi colonel and the resistance fighters on which he is spying. Grimaldi's time in jail forces him to come to terms with his inability to declare allegiance to either side and eventually repent for his immoral actions during the war…
Described by Martin Scorsese as “the father of us all,” Roberto Rossellini can be credited with having a huge influence on future filmmakers; inspiring the likes of the French New Wave and even British social-realist films of the ‘60s. What's more, Il Generale della Rovere can be said to be one of Rossellini's most widely distributed films in the United States, aside from his war trilogy (Rome Open City; Paisan; and Germany Year Zero).
Whilst more formulaic than many of his other films, Il Generale offers a stark and often disturbing depiction of many people's seemingly nonchalant response to the atrocities committed by the Nazis. Grimaldi, a man whose moral judgement is somewhat shaky to say the least, embodies what many people have found so disturbing about the actions (or inaction) of those under Nazi occupation. Not only does Grimaldi turn a blind eye to the actions of the Nazis, but he's willing to befriend them, in order to extort his fellow Italians.
There is a scene nearing the end of the film where a man, locked in a cell, screams, “I didn't do anything!” However, when a fellow inmate responds, “Neither did we”, the man retorts, “But you're Jews.” The unwillingness of Italians to confront their unwanted Nazi guests is no better illustrated than in this scene. So long as their actions did not infringe on his liberties, the individual yelling, “I didn't do anything,” would happily stand by and let the Nazi's go about cleansing society of Jews. Many people were willing to accept distasteful ideology in return for a quite life.
Grimaldi straddled the line between both camps even more overtly. Whilst in conversation with fellow Italians, he confesses his dislike of their Nazi guests. Yet, when in conversation with Mueller, he expresses his support for the war. Furthermore, when arrested, he is more than prepared to give up the identities of resistance fighters, in return for a safe passage through the war.
Vittorio De Sica's performance as Grimaldi is captivating and has often been described as the best of his career. However, Hannes Messemer's superb portrayal of Mueller is one that is often overlooked. Just like Grimaldi, Mueller's commitment often wavers. His distaste for the use of torture and execution puts him at odds with many of his duties as a colonel. After ordering the torture of a prisoner, the news of the man's death seems to distress Mueller in a way one would not expect from a Nazi colonel. The captivating portrayal of both men, at odds with their conscience when faced with the chaos of war, is surely what makes Il Generale such a successful and intriguing film.
Whilst the film is more formulaic than some fans of Rossellini might prefer, there is much to be said for its cinematography. The manner in which the camera follows those on screen, often for extended periods of time, adds to our understanding of the characters. An example of this is Grimaldi's arrival at the Wehrmacht headquarters, where we follow him up the staircase, into a waiting room filled with townspeople and, finally, into the main office. This scene comes early in the film and, at this point, we are unaware of Grimaldi's activities. However, as we follow Grimaldi through the waiting room, we become acutely aware of his discomfort; he doesn't seem to fit in amongst the other townspeople.
Il Generale della Rovere may not be as gritty as some of Rossellini's other work but, whilst it retains a conventional structure, it does infuse this with Rossellini's trademark neorealism. Ultimately, the film's success lies with its two lead performances and their ability to convey the almost schizophrenic nature of those societies who found themselves under Nazi occupation. Il Generale offers an uncompromising insight into the immorality of some and the indecisiveness of others; both of which can be said to contribute to the atrocities that are committed during times of war.
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Film: Fantastic Factory Presents…
UK Release date: 18th April 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 18
Director: Brian Yuzna, Jack Sholder & Paco Plaza
Genre: Action/Adventure/Comedy/Fantasy/Horror/Sci-Fi
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Spain/USA
Language: English/Spanish
Review by: James Noble
Arrow gathers together four films from the Barcelona-based Fantastic Factory label. Headed up by producer Julio Fernandez and producer-director Brian Yuzna, Fantastic Factory specialised in low-budget horror films with an international cast, and shot in the English language. Such a combination seems ripe for either enjoyably kitschy guilty pleasures, or outright disasters.
In Jack Sholder’s Arachnid (2001), a ragtag crew of explorers, pilots and scientists venture to a dangerous jungle in Guam, on the hunt for the mysterious creature whose vicious bites have been killing people in the area. It turns out to be the work of an extraterrestrial spider-like creature, leaving the crew in a desperate fight for survival.
Paco Plaza’s Romasanta (2004) takes place in 19th century Spain, in a small village being terrorised by an unlikely serial killer - the suave, intense Manuel Romasanta (Julian Sands), who claims to be afflicted with a lycanthropic curse.
Two films by Brian Yuzna round out the collection. In 2001’s Faust: Love Of The Damned (based on the graphic novels by Tim Vigil and David Quinn), mild-mannered artist John Jaspers (Mark Frost) sells his soul to the Lucifer-like ‘M’ in exchange for the power and ability to avenge the murder of his lover. However, after doing so, ‘M’ binds him to his unholy contract, and John is transformed into a horned demon with a thirst for violence and carnage.
Finally, Beyond Re-animator (2003) - a belated second sequel to the well-regarded 1985 adaptation of H.P. Lovecraft’s short story - Star Trek veteran Jeffrey Combs returns to his role of Dr. Herbert West, who is now in prison after one of his zombie-like creations killed an innocent girl. Contacted thirteen years later by the brother of the victim, who is now a doctor himself, West decides to take his re-animation experiments to their very limit...
As with any box set, the quality levels vary wildly, and Arrow’s Fantastic Factory anthology is no exception, ranging from the solid to the weak. To kick off with the lower end of the spectrum, we have Arachnid, which opens with an unconvincing CGI shot of what looks like an inverted maelstrom. The clear lack of budget setting the tone for what follows, as director Jack Sholder resorts to tried-and-tested ways of getting around his financial constraints - essentially, keeping the expensive and ambitious visuals off-screen, and hoping the work of his actors sells the horror.
Sholder has limited success here - the fleeting glimpses of the alien spider, and the sense of it moving through the undergrowth occasionally arouses tension and suspense, but more often than not just frustrates. It does not help that much of the film takes place in a gorgeous jungle at daytime (presumably to save money on expensive lighting equipment), which dilutes any sense of eeriness or creepiness that Sholder is able to conjure.
Low budget does not necessarily a bad film make, but Mark Sevi’s script lacks the flair and inspiration to overcome the limitations of the production. Main character Mercer (Alex Reid), a plucky female pilot haunted by the mysterious disappearance of her brother, is introduced with very little backs-tory and while, it is revealed in pieces throughout the movie, the fact that the team of explorers is assembled in quick order (the expedition is underway within 15 minutes), without so much as a hint of any motivation among the group beyond cliché (missing brother, scientific curiosity, etc.), the audience is kept at a distance when they should be engaged.
The cast features several almost-familiar faces (male lead Chris Potter featured on the American version of Queer As Folk, and leading lady Alex Reid can now be seen on Channel 4’s Misfits), who play the film absolutely straight when, arguably, the script calls for tongues in cheeks and eyes ready to roll. Had the players shown more signs of having fun with the material, an awareness of the hokey nature of proceedings, the audience might have more fun than they ultimately do.
Faring better is Paco Plaza’s Romasanta, which has similarly obvious budgetary constraints - the English dialogue is broadly ADR’d (to get around a mostly local cast), and sharp, occasionally disorienting editing obscures a monster the production is unable to fully realise - but nevertheless manages to create a nice level of gothic atmosphere and eerie tension. As the murderous Manuel, Julian Sands brings intensity and a certain impassive charisma to proceedings, and has a decent, understated chemistry with leading lady Elsa Pataky (who also features in Beyond Re-animator), even if the pseudo love-triangle in which they are involved never really ignites, and is hindered by the script’s corner cutting (Pataky’s delaying of enquiring after the missing sister and niece that Manuel has murdered is an example of the plot holes the filmmakers are prepared to live with in order to maintain the erotic frisson).
Plaza clearly has a lot of fun with the material, and conjures some striking, memorable cinematic images throughout - the highlight being a runaway burning carriage hurtling through a forest at night-time. And while the non-linear script, at times, runs away with itself, there is enough genuine invention and creepiness here to make it recommended fare for fans of the genre.
Now we come to co-founder Brian Yuzna’s brace of films, to fill out the four-disc collection. Kicking off with an energetic credit sequence accompanied by a heavy metal soundtrack, Yuzna’s Faust: Love Of The Damned sets a tone that shows a clear debt to Alex Proyas’s The Crow, borne out in its tale of a resurrected killing machine driven by a haunted soul and a broken heart. And, for more than thirty minutes, Yuzna sets up what appears to be an intriguing psychological thriller, as Jeffrey Combs’ dogged police detective investigates a massacre committed by Mark Frost’s deranged artist. While the set-up is familiar, the dialogue and characterisation blunt and direct, and the plot bears one rather significant hole (Frost’s character’s habit of veering from catatonic to lucid at the script’s convenience would, in reality, surely torpedo any claim of criminal insanity), Yuzna’s slick editing and interesting choice of framing (showing an admirable feel for, and reverence of, the graphic novel format that is Faust’s origin), wrapped up in a gothic-mystical tone, hold the film together through its first act. Indeed, unlike the previous two films in the collection, Faust feels like solid, undemanding and reliable B-movie fare…
Unfortunately, the budget simply isn’t up to realising the ambition of the second and third act. Upon his resurrection (after being buried alive by the treacherous ‘M’), John Jasper is a sadly all-too-obviously costumed demonic avenger and, while its core audience will be along for the ride thanks to a solid opening half-hour, the artifice of the costume is perhaps a touch too alienating for non-fans, and Frost’s wild-eyed, manic performance - while containing a certain campy fun - prohibits audience identification with the protagonist. It does not help that the stylised characterisation and dialogue tend to verge on the ridiculous, as the filmmakers navigate their cast through a plot that always seems on the verge of falling into one of its progressively more cavernous holes.
That’s not to say the film is without its pleasures. Yuzna certainly has a flair for the grotesque, which should please the core audience, even if the action scenes are somewhat lacking in the excitement department. That said, the scene where ‘M’ reduces his trophy girlfriend (the game and underused Monica van Campen) to a giant pair of boobs and buttocks is visually striking for the wrong reasons, coming off like something out of a Doctor Who writer’s nightmare. Faust is mostly campy fun, but is not the sort of movie to convert non-believers.
Finally, we have Beyond Re-animator, which shares the ‘boxset-highlight’ honours with Romasanta. Beginning with a zombie attack which - while awkwardly shot, and relying on slightly-cheap visual effects - is appealingly sick, the second of Brian Yuzna’s directorial efforts to grace this collection is the superior of the two. Less reliant on manic energy, and anchored by a quietly compelling performance by the reliable Jeffrey Combs, this further updating of H.P. Lovecraft’s mad scientist story refreshes the standard zombie formula by giving the reanimated creatures consciousness and consciences, which brings a certain element of surprise and unpredictability to what ensues.
Setting the action in a prison further creates a sense of claustrophobic tension, and having the cast of characters - while perhaps not as fully developed as they could be - at cross-purposes creates the vulnerability necessary to hook an audience into the outcome of a horror story. Disappointingly, the twisted nature of the relationship between Combs’s West and Jason Barry’s Howard Phillips, the brother of the girl killed by one of West’s ‘creations’ in the opening, is never explored to its full potential, and the film offers the immensely likeable Elsa Pataky little to do with her role as a journalist reporting on the prison, caught up in the ensuing horror. However, all three actors work very hard and (unlike the cast of Arachnid) their straight-faced playing is essential to ensuring the audience is convinced by the premise and narrative.
Hardly essential, but genre fans will likely find much to enjoy with this box set. Though the films themselves aren’t exactly significant, the collection is notable for providing a contrast to the high-quality, sophisticated standard of horror movies produced by Spain in the last several years. As an example of where the genre was at not long before, the films of Fantastic Factory hold a certain academic appeal that is perhaps more consistent than anything on offer in the movies themselves. JN
Film: Rififi
Year of production: 1955
UK Release date: 9th May 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 12
Running time: 122 mins
Director: Jules Dassin
Starring: Jean Servais, Carl Mohner, Robert Manuel, Magali Noel, Perlo Vita
Genre: Crime/Drama/Thriller
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country of Production: France
Language: French/Italian/English
Review by: Karen Rogerson
Based on the crime novel of the same name by Auguste le Breton, Rififi was one of a number of films of France’s 1950s film noir revival. Using the familiar motifs of the genre – the world weary patriarchal crime lord, the downtrodden women, and the promise of the big heist to end all heists - it explores the loyalties and betrayals that form the dynamics of its demimonde society.
Tony le Stéphanois (Jean Servais) is back in the big bad Paris underworld following a five year stint in jail. He’s short of cash and status amongst his peers and has been abandoned by his lover, Mado, for a night club owner. Tony’s former associates, the brawny Jo le Suedois (Carl Möhner) and the clownish, ebullient Italian Mario Ferrati (Robert Manuel) pitch an idea to Tony that could revive his fortunes. Their simple plan of a smash and grab raid on the jewellers Mappin and Webb is transformed, under Tony’s leadership, into a far more sophisticated operation to disable the shop’s state of the art (for the 1950s) alarm system and crack the safe.
To do this, they need the legendary skills of the safe cracker César le Milanais (played by director Jules Dassin under the alias Perlo Vita) of whom it’s said that “there’s not a safe that can resist César, or a woman that César can resist,” a knowing forewarning to the audience that playing with film noir’s seductive women is a dangerous game on both sides. Tony’s discovery that Mado left him for a succession of different men when he went to prison has a violent outcome, and she flees in fear for her life. At the night club owned by Mado’s lover, César hooks up with the sultry Viviane, who sings the film’s theme song, ‘Le Rififi’, against a dramatic backdrop of the silhouetted figures of a gangster and his moll, miming attitudes of seduction and violence. The criminal world of Rififi, she explains, means trouble and danger, but also holds an irresistible attraction.
Following the complicated undercurrents of relations in the night club, the subsequent heist scene has a sense of clear purpose and camaraderie, illustrating the understanding, patience and almost artisanal quality of the criminals when working together on a job. The planning, knowledge and skill of Tony’s people is clearly second to none, but will this be enough to overcome all possible obstacles and mishaps that could jeopardise the heist and their own lives?
As with any film in the noir genre, Rififi allows its audience to dabble vicariously in the darkness of its criminal world, both in the shady shabbiness of Paris’ seedier arrondissements, and in the tight lipped and perilous alliances of its characters. In a world where women are both victims and betrayers, and the tenuous status quo depends upon selfless observance of a code of loyalty and silence, the characters’ cards are marked. Loss, violence and death will surely be the consequence for some.
Despite the sense of inevitable failure, there is an irresistible inclination, watching with heart in mouth, to want the criminals to succeed. This tension builds throughout the iconic heist scene, which Dassin extended from a short episode in Le Breton’s book to a twenty minute sequence without music or dialogue, in which Tony, Jo, César and Mario communicate only by eye contact and gesture. In this scene, their individuality becomes subsumed in the professionalism and dignity of their work. The dandyish César, dressed in evening wear, becomes quiet and purposeful. The foolishly demonstrative Mario becomes sober and restrained. Lumbering Jo displays a delicate hesitancy in his work, and the hangdog face of Tony presides over all, lending a gravitas to their undertaking. The silence allows attention to focus on the finely choreographed sequence of actions.
With little room in the criminals’ world for effusiveness and exposition, the characters are fairly sketchily drawn but the skill of the acting, dialogue and action makes them believable and engaging. Tony and César are enigmatic, but their underlying air of authority and violence indicates unrevealed layers of complexity. Servais’ Tony has an air of beaten resignation tempered by unshakeable conviction that the underworld’s code of loyalty must prevail. The incompleteness of Tony’s story, hinted at here and there, makes him all the more intriguing. The characters of Jo and Mario are more fleshed out, as we see Jo in domestic scenes with his wife and young son, and Mario flirting playfully with his girlfriend. The added emotional context makes the grim consequences of the criminals’ actions more explicit. There’s an air of desperate abandon to the brilliantly shot final scene which dramatically punches home the sense of loss that is Rififi’s inevitable outcome.
With world weary gangsters in door-jammingly wide shoulder pads, moodily shot and beautifully lit cinematography, a thumping score and a steadily building sense of tension and engagement, Rififi is a classic of the genre which continues to influence filmmakers today. KR
Film: Les Diaboliques
Year of production: 1955
UK Release date: 25th April 2011
Distributor: Arrow
Certificate: 12
Running time: 114 mins
Director: Henri-Georges Clouzot
Starring: Simone Signoret, Véra Clouzot, Paul Meurisse, Charles Vanel, Jean Brochard
Genre: Crime/Drama/Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French
Newly BFI restored, Les Diaboliques is based on a book by Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac that Hitchcock tried, and failed, to option first. Clouzot’s film, techniques and tropes have been used and re-used so many times it could almost be a ‘best-of’ mystery/thriller show reel were it not for the fact that it came first nigh-on sixty years ago.
Michel (Paul Meurisse) is the headmaster of a boys’ boarding school owned by his wife Christina (Véra Clouzot). Michel rules the roost with an iron fist, causing Christina and his mistress Nicole (Simone Signoret), also a teacher, to plot murder together.
Luring him to Nicole’s house, they drug and drown him in the bathtub, returning the body to the school to deposit in the filthy swimming pool, thereby making it seem like an accident and giving them an alibi.
Conspiring to have the pool drained when Michel’s disappearance is noticed, they find the body has disappeared. Utterly adrift in a nightmare of their own making, they slowly begin to question their own sanity…
There is an old adage that you should never meet your heroes for they can never live up to your expectations - you’ll be left disappointed and disillusioned. The same argument can be applied to classic films whose names, plots and reputation are incredibly familiar, even if you’ve never got round to seeing the actual movie. How could that first viewing possibly rise to the stellar heights built up in your own head? Les Diaboliques can and does, and rewards even after multiple viewings. It also happens to be an excellent forensic wander into the DNA of virtually any and every thriller that has come since. You want to know one of the main reasons Hitchcock made Psycho and set the main, now infamous, scene in the shower? It’s because of the bathtub scenes in Les Diaboliques and his failure to get the rights to the Pierre Boileau and Thomas Narcejac novel. You want to know why he later made Vertigo? It’s because, still smarting, he bought the rights to another Boileau-Narcejac novel (D’entre les morts) that formed the basis of the famous Jimmy Stewart starrer. Perhaps you’re a fan of M. Night Shyamalan’s unique blend of taught bluffs and double bluffs (well, at least his earlier output)? The man was simply following in the very well tread footsteps laid down here. Perhaps most intriguingly, perennial Peter Falk detective Columbo was born here; the creators of that famously crumpled detective simply took the character of Alfred Fichet, played by Charles Vanet, and made him American (if Inspector Fichet had uttered “just one more thing” in Les Diaboliques, it would have seemed quite natural).
All of this would merely be an interesting little history lesson for an old style, old fashioned black & white flick made in the 1950s were it not for the fact that Les Diaboliques still holds the power to enthral, chill and shock. Clouzot moves through and blends together genres that, on paper, you wouldn’t think could work together. It opens as a melodrama involving the ménage à trois of Michel, Christina and Nicole, before moving on to film noir, as the ladies plot and execute murder. After that, we’re into psychological thriller territory before landing firmly in horror. That these disparate styles are married so effortlessly, so seamlessly, is nothing short of miraculous. It’s sometimes tried today, particularly in Hollywood, and the clunking mess that always results can make you think that you’ve experienced some amateur, YouTube mash-up. Here, it’s just wonderful. It may also come as a surprise that Les Diaboliques can still shock and send shivers down the spine. The ending in particular, justly famous, is a lesson in restrained scares that can still make you jump, and whilst creaking doors, dark corners and visceral shocks are so par for the course these days as to be boring, Les Diaboliques is anything but.
Clouzot gained a reputation as the French Hitchcock, but it’s one forged on this film and this film alone. He was not against using what were, to some, low-rent tricks to get publicity for Les Diaboliques, such as refusing late comers into theatres and urging viewers, right before the end title sequence, not to tell their friends the ending. Interestingly, and far more famously, Hitchcock used both gimmicks on Psycho five years later. Perhaps we should have been referring to Hitchcock as the American Couzot all these years?
A masterclass in storytelling, twists and chills, Les Diabolique has lost none of its power in the preceding fifty-plus years. Atmospheric, scary and shocking, it’s the father of modern, twisty thrillers. JMB
Film: Jesus Of Montreal
Release date: 27th February 2006
Certificate: 18
Running time: 115 mins
Director: Denys Arcand
Starring: Lothaire Bluteau, Catherine Wilkening, Johanne-Marie Tremblay, Remy Girard, Yves Jacques
Genre: Drama
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Canada/France
The story of Christ is not new to most people. In fact, to many it is the greatest story ever told. From epics depicting his life to films focusing solely on his death, there is no lack of resources to look at when examining this religious icon. Canadian director Denys Arcand gives us a fresh look at this figure in a contemporary setting, played out by a group of actors as they try to give their own version of Jesus' story itself.
Hoping to increase tourist trade and the dwindling numbers attending his services, Father Leclerc hires a recently returned actor, Daniel, to re-vamp the story of the Passion of Christ. Daniel sets about researching the role and gathering together a troupe of actors with which to make this a reality.
With his group brought together, Daniel sets about re-imaging how the story is told using recent evidence that has been discovered about Christ. While this is greeted with success and critical acclaim from the audience, it is not what the priest had in mind and soon the production is in threat of being shut down by the Roman Catholic Church itself.
As their fame grows, so too do the outside influences wanting to shut it down. As the group try to keep the show running as long as possible, Daniel soon finds that the trials and tribulations that faced Jesus are now starting to impact on his own life…
It is not uncommon to have movies that are filled with symbolism, whether it be religious or otherwise. Sometimes they are there for the audiences to see. In others, they are laced within the sub-text, visuals and dialogue. As this is a film about Christ and this is a subject many know, most can be seen clearly here. Daniel’s return from his mysterious travels at the age of 30, his gathering of actors who eventually become his ‘disciples’, right through to his persecution by the Church and those in positions of power.
The acting is good all round. Lothaire Bluteau does a great job of portraying a man undergoing a transformation from a man into something more. His brooding presence adds greatly to this as he tries to stand up for his beliefs against unbeatable odds. His troupe also hold their own in the role of disciples. Catherine Wilkening is a commercial actress who believes it is her body alone that has gotten her to where she is today. Johanne-Marie Tremblay is a failed actress trying to make ends meet. Rémy Girard is a pretentious actor who will not agree to anything until he has seen a script, and Robert Lepage fills out the last place as an actor who has been reduced to dubbing over porn. Throughout the movie we see them grow into a group of friends who come to rely on one another as they place their faith and careers in Daniel's hands. As an obvious take on the Apostles, they even go so far as to share a ‘last supper’ before the opening night of the show.
For a movie like this, you could expect a lot of animosity towards organised religion, but here, Arcand is reserved. Whilst it is the Church that wants to put a stop to the show, it isn’t shown as an all consuming evil. The representative of the Catholic faith is Father Leclerc, played brilliantly by Gilles Pelletier. He is a man disenfranchised with his own belief system but also institutionalized into the only life he knows how to lead. He is a priest who, it transpires, has bedded women and sees the commercialism of religion as a means to an end in supporting his lifestyle and the continuation of his congregation. He is not an evil man, but more a coward unwilling to stand up to his own hypocrisy. Plus, the Church's unease at the production is understandable, as Daniel's revitalized re-telling takes broad strokes at undermining the teachings and facts that most Christians hold dear, so it is no surprise they want to shut it down.
In fact, it is another community that receives the most biting criticisms the film has to offer. The theatrical world itself is mocked more openly than the Church. This is first seen in the critics who spout the exact same asinine critiques for a play which opens the film to their review of the troupe's Passion, as both are in vogue at the time of their comments. One of Daniel's own friends is famous for his steadfast refusal to do advertisements at the beginning but after seeing the praise heaped upon the show, is seen at the end adorning a poster on the wall of a train station, forsaking his own morals in his quest not to lose the spotlight. Rémy Girard only agrees to be in the production on the assurance that he will be allowed to recite a monologue from Hamlet. At the start of the movie, all the actors are struggling for their art, none of them where they want to be but all trying to do the thing they love no matter how degrading it is. Although this helps cement them later when they have a common goal, it is a cautionary tale about the ups and downs that must be endured in the life of an actor.
As mentioned above, the comparisons between Daniel’s and Jesus' lives are easy to see, but it is when these aspects are brought into the modern setting that the movie works best. Daniel’s explosion of rage directed towards a company who ask a girl to strip naked for a beer commercial audition is a nod towards Jesus ransacking the temple as the people who wield power abuse it for their own ends. The Romans are replaced by the police, not wanting to or even caring why they have to stop the production but simply men with a job to do. His temptation by the Devil is beautifully recreated as he looks out over the city and is promised it all by a sleazy lawyer who wants to entice him to sign with him, in order to cash in on the new found success he has garnered. Though the highpoint of the film is when the story brings the ideas of miracles and resurrection into present times, it is both inspired and bittersweet.
A good movie with some interesting ideas. Bringing the story of Jesus into the modern age works due to some inventive ideas and an actor willing to throw himself into the role. Though these comparisons can sometimes be heavy-handed, they highlight how the message and life of Christ can still be as relevant now as it was then. On a final note, although it doesn't seem to be the film's intention, the themes and liberties taken with the story have the potential to offend and upset, so it may be best avoided by some. DM
Film: Phenomena
Release date: 7th March 2011
Certificate: 18
Running time: 111 mins
Director: Dario Argento
Starring: Jennifer Connelly, Daria Nicolodi, Dalila Di Lazzaro, Patrick Bauchau, Donald Pleasence
Genre: Horror/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: Italy
Italian horror maestro Dario Argento follows a string of genre classics such as Suspiria, Deep Red and Tenebrae with 1985’s Phenomena. Originally released in America under the title Creepers, the film was heavily edited with almost 30 minutes cut. It is now finally released in full on Blu-ray for the first time.
A young Danish tourist is left behind in Switzerland after her bus leaves without her. Approaching a nearby house, she hears a banging from upstairs as she calls out for help. Someone has been chained to the wall of one of the bedrooms and is struggling to break free. As the girl searches the house for further signs of life, the shackles are torn free from the wall, as the girl is brutally murdered by a leather gloved killer.
Eight months later, Jennifer Corvino (Jennifer Connelly), the daughter of a well-known film star is escorted to her new school, a creepy international boarding school for girls, by Frau Brückner (Daria Nicolodi). Suffering from bouts of sleepwalking, she has an affinity with, and the ability to manipulate insects. Jennifer struggles to adapt to her new lifestyle, tormented by bullies and finding it hard to get on with her classmates and teachers, especially the stern head mistress.
After sleepwalking through the grounds of the school, Jennifer awakens to find herself on the roof, where she witnesses the murder of a student at the hands of a leather gloved killer. After fleeing into the local village, she soon becomes acquainted with entomologist Professor John McGregor (Donald Pleasance), who is capable of studying the insects found in decomposed body parts, and can use this information to ascertain the approximate time of death. He believes that between them, he and Jennifer can solve the riddle of the murders, and tasks her with tracking down the killer using a fly from a maggot found on one of the murdered student’s gloves, which leads Jennifer on an investigation that erupts in a crescendo of violence, as she discovers that she has nobody left who she can trust…
Dario Argento has created a unique fusion of the fantasy and giallo genres, which successfully combines a sense of mystery with supernatural horror. The main success of Phenomena is the performance from a 15-year-old Jennifer Connelly, who follows her exceptional performance in Sergio Leone’s classic Once Upon A Time in America with this. Connelly gives a fragile and inquisitive performance which works extremely well alongside the breathtaking, eerie cinematography by Romano Albani. Switzerland’s sweeping countryside proves to be an exceptionally creepy environment, and adds to the suspense of many sequences.
Likewise, horror veteran Donald Pleasance’s Scottish entomologist is a welcome addition to the cast, even though his bizarre Edinburgh accent leaves a lot to be desired. The wheelchair bound professor lends the film’s more ludicrous assertions a sense of grounding in reality, despite the fact that his assistant is a mischievous, razor wielding chimpanzee
Argento has once again chosen to collaborate with Goblin on the film’s score, this time adding tracks from Iron Maiden and Motörhead. Critically praised, but completely ineffective, Goblin’s score is all jazzy synth and inappropriately upbeat guitar tracks. The main grievance with the score (and the accompanying heavy metal tracks) is that it completely undermines any sense of intrigue and suspense created by the director. One scene in particular, where Jennifer’s roommate Sophie is dreaming that she is lost in an old abandoned house, is completely ruined by the inappropriate use of Iron Maiden’s ‘Flash Of The Blade’. It plays out like a low-budget music video as opposed to the carefully crafted, moody scene it was undoubtedly intended to be.
The film shines when it moves away from the surreal sleepwalking montages and dream sequences and focuses on the more palatable horror elements. Argento’s oeuvre contains some much better examples of giallo (see Profondo Rosso) than this, but there are some unique and exciting elements to the slasher side of this film. Sergio Stivaletti’s make-up and special effects used during the film’s more exciting scenes are exceptional, with the facially disfigured, grotesque monster-child’s demise at the hands (or teeth) of a few hundred thousand flies proving especially effective.
The plot is, at times, frustratingly slow and confusing, with holes appearing throughout. This lack of pace is thankfully alleviated towards the end, when the narrative is wrapped up in a tense and exhilarating final act.
Unfortunately, the transfer does unfairly age the film by exacerbating some of the slightly dubious swarm effects and gives certain scenes a stark, hospital lighting feel, which does little to add to the suspense. Extras include a fifty-minute making-of documentary which traces the film’s production from inception and features many of the key players, including Argento himself, which gives an interesting insight into the director’s vision.
Phenomena is a mixed bag of excellent gore effects and some effective flourishes which are unfortunately hindered by the poor pacing and lamentable music. While by no means one of Argento’s strongest works, a strong cast and moments of genuinely squirm-inducing insect horror help to alleviate this from being an entirely unenjoyable experience. RB
Sarah Lund is looking forward to her last day as a detective with the Copenhagen Police department. She is supposed to move to Sweden with her fiancée, but everything changes when a 19-year-old girl, Nanna Birk Larsen, is found raped and brutally murdered.
Along with detective Jan Meyer, Sarah is forced to be ahead of the investigation, as it soon becomes clear that Lund and Meyer are chasing a very intelligent and dangerous murderer.
Series: The Killing
Release date: 4th April 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 1100 mins
Director: Sofie Gråbøl, Lars Mikkelsen, Soren Malling & Bjarne Henriksen
Starring: Jonas Leth Hansen, Soren Malling, Sofie Grabol, Bjarne Henriksen
Genre: Crime/Drama/Mystery/Thriller
Studio: E1/Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Denmark/Norway/Sweden
Film: Island Of Death
Release date: 21st March 2011
Certificate: 18
Running time: 108 mins
Director: Nico Mastorakis
Starring: Robert Behling, Jane Lyle, Jessica Dublin, Gerard Gonalons, Jannice McConnell
Genre: Crime/Horror/Thriller
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD
Country: Greece
This is an English-language release.
Director Nico Mastorakis, having just seen The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974), wrote it purely for the money and never wants his family to see it; actor Robert Behling was just as mixed up as his character Christopher, resulting in his bizarre suicide years later, and his co-star Jane Lyle was the sweet and innocent daughter of one of the big men at Black & Decker, the world’s largest producer of power tools. She would only appear in one more film. No wonder Island Of Death became a cult classic, but is the film half as interesting as what happened after?
Christopher, an avid photographer, and partner Celia arrive from London to spend some time in Mykanos, an island off the coast of Greece. Exploring the quaint village, pushed by his sexual frustrations, Christopher encourages Celia to play a perverted sex game with him. Meeting a villager the next day at the church where the man works, Celia seduces him while Christopher photographs from afar. He then puts his camera down and crucifies the poor man.
This starts a perverted murder spree, echoing their similar atrocities in Britain. A detective from England tracks them down in Greece but they surprise him in the private plane he has hired. The brutal murders continue until a novelist interested in the deaths on the island links Christopher to a lesbian's demise.
With the police now giving chase, Christopher and Celia (regretting her actions) hide on a sheep herder's ranch, unaware that the simpleton is even crazier than they are…
Nico Mastorakis openly admits that Island Of Death was only unleashed on the unsuspecting cinema goer because The Texas Chainsaw Massacre made so much money thanks to its explicit cannibalism and bodily mutilation, scaring the life out of most of those that went to see it. And then went back to see it again. He wanted a piece of the pie, quickly deciding his new screenplay, which took him a week to write, would mix in every trashy element you can imagine.
Gratuitous splatter, rape, sex and nudity carry most of the film before the tables turn in the jaw-dropping third act; obviously that all depends on whether you make it that far, as the entertainment value sustained by this film will vary from one viewer to the next, and if you are able to take it on its own ludicrous terms, you’ll still find little here in the way of entertainment. It’s basically an exercise in trying to outdo itself – every scene more ridiculous, and more disgusting than the previous.
Still, there’s nothing wrong with having sex with a goat, not if your partner is refusing to ease your sexual frustrations. And there’s definitely nothing unnatural about chasing a homosexual through the narrow streets of Mykanos with a sword, because forgiving the short memory Christopher clearly has, his intended victim is obviously a “pervert” and must be punished. As must the mother that frustrates him so, even if we’re not sure why, yet enough to warrant a call from a phone box while in the throes of passion, telling her precisely what they’re up to (if she can’t already tell).
Mastorakis continues in this vein for a staggering 101 minutes, daring to up the ante in the final act with a finale so ridiculous you’ll wish you were stuck on an island with Leatherface’s family of inbred cannibals rather than sit through any more of this mindless dross. If you want to imitate a successful horror movie, you sure don’t ditch the realism in favour of cartoonish violence and a soundtrack so out of tune a blind cat with two legs thrown onto a piano would be easier on the ears. According to the director, other than the two leads and a Greek National treasure playing the goat herder, every other actor was either a holidaymaker or a local. More worryingly, especially for Behling and Lyle, it’s impossible to tell – they’re all so equally awful.
Mastorakis introduces a detective hot on the heels of our villainous couple to add a touch of back-story, but it’s brief to say the least, and doesn’t justify his existence, other than to be the next character to die brutally, or to participate in such laughable dialogue exchanges such as, “Excuse me, miss, is my friend here? He’s a young fellow, with a girl.” “Yes, they’re not here – they went for a ride.” Considering he had just arrived on the island, that’s either one hell of a trick question or Mykanos isn’t renowned for couples.
Yet, as the final insult proves, this isn’t necessarily true either. Saving the best for last, Mastorakis has one more twist for the audience to endure, timed to perfection straight after a double rape that echoes Straw Dogs (1971) in its controversy, yet goes one step further with a moment even Jane Lyle (looks gorgeous, can’t act, makes the most of her screen time as a woman of dubious motives who likes to get naked) can’t rescue. Unless she borrows one of her father’s power tools and dismantles this offensive and utterly pointless exercise in terror.
Intended to test the tolerance of many viewers from the very beginning, Island Of Death is shrouded by a relentlessly cruel aura of sick imagery, and it’s little wonder the film was banned in virtually every country worldwide. Even by today’s standards it manages to shock, but only fleetingly, rapidly descending into farce, and quickly becoming one of the worst movies ever made. DW
Film: Battle Royale
Release date: 28th February 2011
Certificate: 18
Running time: 109 mins
Director: Kinji Fukasaku
Starring: Takeshi Kitano, Chiaki Kuriyama, Tatsuya Fujiwara, Noriko Nakagawa, Tarô Yamamoto
Genre: Action/Horror/Thriller
Studio: Arrow
Format: DVD & Blu-ray
Country: Japan
Labelled as “crude and tasteless” by members of the Japanese parliament, a decade on, Battle Royale still proves popular with audiences the world over. Upon its release, the film was nominated for several Japanese Academy Awards, and in 2009, Quentin Tarantino spoke of it as being his favourite film of the last two decades. This 3-disc release from Arrow Video has a host of extras, and a glorious high definition restored transfer of both the theatrical and director’s cut.
Battle Royale opens with Japan at the dawn of the millennium. Unemployment is high and students boycott schools. Adults, fearing their nation's youth, pass the Millennium Educational Reform Act, otherwise known as the BR Act. The purposes of the BR Act quickly become apparent, when we are introduced to a class of students who are nearing the end of their compulsory education. Once a year, a class of students are sent to a secluded island to participate in a game, the Battle Royale, and these are this year's unlucky participants.
The BR Act is promptly explained to its unwitting participants, with the help of an educational video, featuring a morbidly upbeat presenter. Each student is tagged with an electronic necklace and instructed to kill their classmates over the course of the next three days. At the end of the three days, if more than one student remains, their necklaces will detonate, killing all who remain...
It's not difficult to see why Tarantino holds this film in such high regard. Kinji Fukasaku's Battle Royale takes its viewer on a rollercoaster ride, alternating between an extravagant blood bath one moment and a high school drama the next. Its ultra-violent scenes and rather sadistic premise lie at the heart of what has made this film such a success. But the rather elegant, if not extreme, scenes of violence are firmly supported by some terrific dark comedy.
Ultimately, Battle Royale features many of things we'd come to expect from a teenage high school drama. Just as in any high school, the film's characters can easily be characterised into 'geeks', 'outcasts' and 'superficial bitches'. The major difference being, these emotional, jealous and troublesome teenagers are thrown into a big-brother style arena and equipped with knives, tazers and guns.
Whilst most of the film follows the activities of the students over the course of the game, brief flashbacks offer insights into the background of each student. Whilst this isn't enough to form any meaningful, emotional attachment to any of the characters, it does help give the story a layer of depth, beyond all the mindless killing.
That's not to say the film is nothing more than a comic blood-fest. Battle Royale, through all its bloodshed, does make some rather striking comments on society. On one hand, it exposes the perverted nature of reality television, whilst on the other, it condemns society's attitude toward its youth. Admittedly, the film (unlike the book) is a little ambiguous when it comes to this latter theme.
What's more, through all the comic action sequences, the film's young cast give some truly excellent performances. With Battle Royale relying heavily on action sequences to drive forward its narrative and, in turn, bring each character to life, it is quite an achievement to see a cast, whose average age could not exceed 15, giving such exceptional performances.
Ever since its release, Battle Royale has been both celebrated and criticised for its graphic violence. Although, it's hard to see where there is much justification for criticism, as its violence is always humorous in nature. In many respects, Kenta Fukasaku's use of gratuitous violence is rather elegant, as well as humorous. One memorable scene depicts Kazuo Kiriyama, a true 'bad ass', as he fires a handgun at a girl, who also appears to lack any compassion for the students she kills. ‘Air auf der G-Saite’ plays as she stumbles backward with each successive shot. In any other context, and lacking the talented hand of Kenta Fukasaku, this film may well have been a rather morbid affair. But the director's keen eye for humour makes Battle Royale's violence something to applaud, rather than condemn.
Battle Royale is an extremely impressive film, acting as a true representation of Japanese cinema at its best. Kenta Fukasaku has created a film which rivals, if not exceeds the likes of Tarantino's Kill Bill. Unlike many other films that glorify violence, it retains a comic feel and considerable depth, making Battle Royale a truly stunning piece of Japanese cinema. ME
