Film: Cold Fish Year of production: 2010 UK Release date: 27th June 2011 Distributor: Third Window Certificate: 18 Running time: 144 mins Director: Sion Sono Starring: Mitsuru Fukikoshi, Tetsu Watanabe, Hikari Kajiwara, Megumi Kagurazaka, Denden Genre: Drama/Thriller Format: DVD Country of Production: Japan Language: Japanese
Review by: Daryl Wing
Inspired by the Saitama Dog Lover Serial Murders that came to light in 1993, involving the exploits of Gen Sekine and his ex-wife Hiroko Kazama, who would breed then sell rare hounds, killing any buyer that felt robbed by their extortionate valuations, the latest offering from cult Japanese writer-director Sion Sono (Love Exposure) swaps the lovable mutts for tropical fish. So is Cold Fish the compelling thriller it claims to be, or will we be tossing it back from whence it came? Shamoto is struggling to run a small tropical fish shop with his second wife, Taeko, and his troublesome daughter, Mitsuko. When Mitsuko is caught shoplifting at a grocery store, they meet a friendly man named Murata, who helps to settle things between Mitsuko and the store manager.
Since Murata also runs a tropical fish shop, Shamoto establishes a bond with him and they become friends. Mitsuko is offered work by Murata, who suggests she stay with him and his wife at their beautiful home, allowing Shamoto to rebuild his relationship with Taeko.
All seems well, but Murata hides many dark secrets behind his friendly exterior. Selling cheap fish to his customers for high prices with his artful lies, if anyone suspects fraud or refuses to go along with his moneymaking schemes, they’re murdered and their bodies disposed.
With Mitsuko a seemingly willing hostage at Murata’s home and Shamoto fooled into becoming a business partner, it isn’t long before the mild-mannered shopkeeper has to take a stand in order to save his family - and himself...
Director Sion Sono cleverly invests so much time in establishing his (mostly likeable) characters and their inter-relationships in the hope that when he starts snuffing them out, there’s far more gravity to their deaths than you’ll find in many films of similar ilk. And the opening half hour is arguably the most entertaining, introducing us to Shamoto, a man who never amounted to much, his wife, Taeko (her knockers would question her worth to the story while her fans will argue they’re are all that matters), and his brat, Mitsuko, untroubled by Murata’s overfriendliness, as in fact, oddly, they all are.
The quirky opening act pulls the viewer into a simple world, and thanks to strong performances by all the leads, we quickly empathise with Shamoto, a man as wet as the weather, and his family, as they struggle to face up to their problems. At the same time, we fall for the smooth-talking, charismatic Murata, and his beautiful wife, and we’re hoodwinked by his successful business, but we’re also suspicious of their motives and keenness to befriend such a disillusioned protagonist when surely they don’t need the inconvenience. Although by now he’s a little creepy, it isn’t until Murata takes Taeko to one side that we realise this offbeat family-drama is not all it seems, and it’s also the point in which Taeko finally shows promise – her character’s interesting desire to be dominated, however, is sadly never explored further.
And what happens next is disappointing to say the least. Padding out most of the running time with lessons in how to dismember a body, intercut with dodgy double-crossings, passionless poisoning and repetitive threats to make people “invisible,” Sion Sono fails to find a spark for the majority of a lengthy second act. Uneventful in the extreme, it’s only worth watching if you plan on becoming a butcher. Even then, it would probably be quicker to partake in an Open University course of similar study.
The film also suffers from an extremely negative portrayal of its female characters, whether it be Taeko’s untold hankering for a high-handed partner (the perfect excuse to give her impressive globes an airing - no doubt what attracted her star-gazing husband in the first place); Murata’s indecisive wife, who gets her kicks from entrusting herself to no-one, as long as she gets what she wants (a good excuse to get it all out); the ungrateful daughter who apparently hates her family, yet hardly utters a word in disgust; and six other teenage disciples that work for Murata at his enormous fish emporium, with no hint of back stories (a good excuse to have a bit of girl on girl action). All in all, their lack of depth is bound to leave most female viewers dumbfounded. Having said that, our planetarium-obsessed male lead is hardly blessed with any either.
With all of its horrific activity confined to the final third, Cold Fish is, therefore, hard work for the most part, and when it does finally indulge in the red stuff, including a fantastic struggle through slippery entrails, you’ll still be slightly surprised by Shamoto’s sudden transformation from lifeless loser to complete fruitcake. Considering the film drags on for two-and-a-half hours, that’s some statement. Still, the opening act looks very pretty, even if budget constraints confine the movie to limited locations and rather bland camerawork later on, but the effects are top notch, and this DVD release does at least offer a more interesting special feature on the true events that inspired the movie.
Cold Fish starts promisingly but loses its way during the bloodless flimsiness of its second act, which refuses to end, or in fact add anything remotely interesting until the ruthless finale that lacks originality and isn’t as clever as it thinks it is. To quote our leading man, “life is pain, and it doesn’t get much more painful than watching this.” DW
Film: Confessions Year of production: 2010 UK Release date: 25th April 2011 Distributor: Third Window Certificate: 15 Running time: 106 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Takako Matsu, Yukito Nishii, Kaoru Fujiwara, Masaki Okada, Yoshino Kimura Genre: Drama/Horror/Thriller Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country of Production: Japan Language: Japanese
Adapted from the award-winning debut novel by Kanae Minato, still high on the sugar-coated ripples of critical acclaim with his previous features Kamikaze Girls and Memories Of Matsuko, genre-busting auteur Tetsuya Nakashima returns like a scalded cat with Confessions. Gone are his trademark candy-coloured worlds, replaced by a sinister universe contaminated by disease, bullying and murder. Will Nakashima’s delicious new direction hit the sweet spot once again, or will it leave the audience with sweet Fanny Adams? Yuko Moriguchi (Takako Matsu) is a middle-school teacher whose 4-year-old daughter is found dead in the school’s swimming pool. Convinced that two of her students were responsible for her daughter's murder, she returns to her classroom and begins a final lesson the students will never forget.
Referring to the killers as Student A and Student B, Yuko’s ramblings are at first treated as tommyrot by the children half-listening to her inane drivel. Then she reveals that two of the cartons of milk they had been drinking prior to her arrival have been laced with the HIV infected blood of her dead child’s father.
Confessions spill quicker than the milk, as each suspect reveals motives, allies, and a disturbing lack of sympathy. Will Yuko be satisfied with their acceptance of blame, knowing only too well that they aren’t old enough to be truly punished for their actions, or will she decide to end her teaching career by going out with a bang?
All films should be this pretty. Exploring the dark side of adolescence with wit and delicacy, Confessions creates a disturbingly bleak atmosphere that more than compensates for a sparse plot, further complimented by an indie soundtrack and stunning visuals by Director Tetsuya Nakashima. A film more about mood than substance, ordinary teen irritants are blended with the extreme so seamlessly here it’s frightening, as we see when, early on, Student A (a chilling turn by Yukito Nishii as Shuya) reveals his unrivalled genius by creating contraptions to torture cats and dogs and another electrifying invention to stop purse snatchers.
The other students may be flirting with the opposite sex and questioning the joys of puberty, but apart from an orchestrated fling halfway through proceedings, Shuya is far too busy devising ways to inflict pain and suffering on those that have failed to spot his superiority, praying the mother that abandoned him finally will. Meanwhile, Student B (Naoki) is so disgusted with himself for allowing his trust to be abused, he accepts his punishment, takes it on the chin, then spends the rest of the film transforming into a caveman, intent on scrubbing away any past mistakes - his mud-encrusted body a constant reminder of the horrors that fell before.
It’s certainly a haunting tale that will linger long in the memory, helped by a dry sense of humour running all the way through it (the students rendition of KC Band’s ‘That’s The Way I Like It’ is absolutely brilliant), with gruesomeness and giggles combining perfectly, culminating in a genuinely explosive denouement.
Takako Matsu’s performance as the scarred teacher is deftly restrained: her intense opening monologue is so gripping you’ll question how thirty minutes have zipped by. But Nakashima masters such a lengthy confession with ease, cutting to cold and harsh visual flashbacks, classroom mayhem and a self-contained story so beautiful it’s almost a disappointment when the new term begins.
With a script that feels like it’s followed Robert McKee’s best-selling book ‘Story’ to the letter, Confessions uses the principles of screenwriting to great effect - especially in the way of structure, with its perfectly placed inciting incident and rollercoaster second act leading to the chilling climax. Clearly helped by an artist who has already mastered the form, Nakashima soaks Kanae Minato’s script in such lush imagery you’ll gladly drown in its dreamy slo-mo sequences (at its stunning best in the pouring rain), entwined with wide-eyed acts of violence that will make the journey uncomfortable but compelling. The violence may not always be graphic in nature, upsetting any gore hunters amongst you, but although pleasantly understated, when it does inevitably fall, it certainly makes a bigger splash than the painfully poetic demise of Yuko’s daughter.
Without showing anything overtly, Confessions projects an atmosphere of palpable evil and menace with minimal locations and fuss. Fine-tuned characterizations help a plot structure that could become confusing if not dealt with so brilliantly, but this sophisticated shocker is slightly let down only by the plot’s thinness. It's not a massive problem. In the end, it allows Nakashima to intersect the action with some wonderful sequences (helped along by cracking melodies from Radiohead, The XX and Japanese superstars Boris), each subtle moment adding depth to plot, characters and back stories with superb realism, never allowing the viewer's mind to wander.
This, of course, is also a horror, so add to all this gripping drama the countless memorable scenes that surprise with their sudden brutality (Shuya cutting himself in class to terrify the haters or the cuteness and foreboding doom of a kitten with its mother), mix in some brilliant performances, especially by the children (it’s easy to see why the whippersnappers are often treated badly in Asian cinema – who in their right mind would want to teach this lot), and it’s obvious the only confession this movie needs to make is that it will blow you away.
Certain to be remade by a Hollywood studio, bursting with inventive visuals and a slew of nasty surprises, Confessions is a beautiful piece of work harmonized with a cracking soundtrack, brilliant screenplay and wonderful performances. Put simply, the best film of 2011. DW
The latest feature from cult Japanese writer-director Sion Sono (Love Exposure).
Inspired by and loosely based on the real-life exploits of serial killer couple Gen Sekine and his ex-wife Hiroko Kazama (the perpetrators of Tokyo’s notorious 1993 “Saitama serial murders of dog lovers” killings), the film is a psychotic cavalcade of sex, violence and comedy that has been hailed by Variety for its “gleeful humour and dare-you-to-watch aesthetic.”
Shamoto runs a small tropical fish shop. His second wife, Taeko, does not get along with his daughter, Mitsuko, and this worries him. One day Mitsuko is caught shoplifting at a grocery store. There they meet a friendly man named Murata, who helps to settle things between Mitsuko and the store manager. Since Murata also runs a tropical fish shop, Shamoto establishes a bond with him and they become friends; Mitsuko even begins working for Murata and living at his house. What Shamoto doesn’t know, however, is that Murata hides many dark secrets behind his friendly face. He sells cheap fish to his customers for high prices with his artful lies. If anyone detects his fraud or refuses to go along with his moneymaking schemes, they’re murdered and their bodies disposed of by Murata and his wife in grisly ways.
Shamoto is taken in by Murata’s tactics, and by the time he realizes that Murata is insane, and a serial killer who has made over fifty people disappear, he is powerless to do anything about it. But now Mitsuko is a hostage at Murata’s home and Shamoto himself has become the killer’s unwilling accomplice. Cruel murders gradually cripple his mind and finally the ordinary man is driven to the edge of the abyss.
Not for the squeamish or those easily offended by graphic images of sex and violence, Cold Fish is a compelling, slowburn thriller, peppered throughout with unexpected twists and surprises.
Film: Cold Fish Release date: 8th April 2011 Certificate: TBC Running time: 144 mins Director: Sion Sono Starring: Mitsuru Fukikoshi, Denden, Asuka Kurosawa, Mugumi Kagurazaka, Hikari Kajiwara Genre: Drama/Thriller Studio: Third Window Format: Cinema Country: Japan
Film: Confessions Of A Dog Release date: 14th March 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 195 mins Director: Gen Takahashi Starring: Shun Sugata, Harumi Inoue, Kunihiko Ida, Gen Idemitsu, Jun'ichi Kawamoto Genre: Crime/Drama Studio: Third Window Format: DVD Country: Japan
The DVD cover of Confessions Of A Dog is emblazoned with the words, “banned in Japan,” a false claim which nevertheless mirrors the film’s struggle for justice. The political motivation behind Director Gen Takahashi’s barely-allegorical story of corruption within the Japanese police force is evident in this brazen marketing ploy, and certainly in its scathing depiction of bureaucracy. This three-hour-plus indictment of a state’s entire justice system spans several years, and is based upon the investigative work of Yu Terasawa, a journalist who has since campaigned against pro-police propaganda and for amendment to the way that the service is overseen. The themes of the film are mainly chronicled through Takeda (Sugata), who begins as a lowly neighbourhood officer and eventually rises to a powerful detective position in the force, with the help of a tyrannical chief inspector.
Despite some early scepticism, Takeda becomes a mentee of the inspector, and heavily involved in his questionable mode of operation, which entails physical intimidation, bribes, and appeasing gangsters who serve him best. He also adopts the untouchable attitude which many of the officers in the film demonstrate, an arrogance that extends to bully-tactics, drugs, infidelity, and a general distancing of his familial relationships, content to ply his wife and child with corrupt money instead of giving them emotional affection.
Increasingly frustrated with the police’s conditional attitude towards crime, renegade Kusama (Kawamoto) seeks to uncover their ways and expose them publicly, first happening upon a photo which demonstrates their laissez-fair attitude towards drugs, and then filming a fake gun-siege designed to enhance the force’s reputation. He and photographer Chiyoko attempt to use Chiyoko’s links with a prominent newspaper to force the issue into the public sphere, but later resort to more desperate measures in the heart of the city’s criminal underworld…
As a social commentary, Confessions Of A Dog is incredibly single-minded in its view of the Japanese police, setting up situations designed to flaunt their exploitation of power. In the first scene, a young cop collars a teenage girl for not being at college, in the hopes of eventually seducing her, only to be prevented from doing so by an aghast Takeda. The scene is repeated later in a different form, as an inebriated citizen is cruelly cajoled into sub-consciously committing a crime he ordinarily wouldn’t. They are juxtaposed as the first scene of two acts, as the film is split either side of an invisible intermission that simply reads: “Five years later.”
Even if the flash-forward narrative device reads as a mechanism of stretching the story to create a bigger, somewhat falsified level of scope, the decision to make the second half of the film feel more of a product of the first is definitely a wise one. There’s an element of Godfather-style ethics; that protecting the brethren of policemen, judges, and officials will allow this breed of law enforcement to be preserved. Takahashi’s success comes from emulating that film’s insight into mafia reverence of trust and the volatile barriers between inclusivity and exclusivity that are bound by psychological impulse. In the end, however, the film has more in common with Lumet’s Serpico in the way that Takeda ultimately suffers for realising the extent of damage his profession is having on his city’s infrastructure - just as Al Pacino’s cop did in the 1973 classic. Visually the film also bears more Lumet traits, assuredly dense without being so off-putting, and visually thoughtful in its confined, dour depiction of seedy illegality. Its final, arresting scene captures this influence more than any other; capping its assessment of the devolved nature of state protection with a harrowingly regressive image of a man’s final fall from grace.
The main issue with Confessions Of A Dog is that it reiterates this point without altering the dynamic between the characters, so we don’t necessarily see things shifting for ourselves – just a ‘before’ and ‘after’. It consistently spurns opportunities to create new dilemmas for its characters, or chart their descent into profligates in fresher terms. We aren’t encouraged enough to delve deeper into the lives of college dropouts burgeoning into power, or explore their moral consciences — and even when we are, a particularly severe act of violence by previously naïve local beat cop Kunii comes as such a radical about-turn that it is difficult to take seriously. The instantaneous indoctrination of these men expose the too-freely-integrated motivations of the project, crudely manifested in some of its characterisation. It reads as much too eager to initiate a rebel-rousing rally cry, intent on making us sit up and listen by focusing predominantly on indefensible action and general injustice.
Kusama’s strand of the narrative is easier to digest and his relationship with Chiyoko gets much more convincing in the film’s second half. Ironically, the film succeeds more in its portrayal of outsiders to the police force than the members of this insular racket, considerably less definite about these people and therefore less preachy or overwrought. The film owes a great deal of its intermittent success as an internal affairs drama to Shun Sugata, particularly compelling scenery-chewer Takeda in the second half of the film, and without being as cartoonish an orchestrator of villainy as his inspector predecessor.
Confessions Of A Dog is a mammoth, meaty slice of crime drama, which is too long for what it essentially contributes. It bears a vehemently sure sense of direction that carries it through its sketchier moments, but requires more intrigue, variation, and a bigger network of characters to truly make the most of the running time. Projects like this are probably reserved for the term ‘ambitious failure’, but as long as people see it, one doubts Takahashi will care. The primary purpose of the film is to educate, and it definitely does that. CR
Third Window Films is pleased to announce the release of the highly controversial Japanese film Confessions Of A Dog as a limited edition 2 disc DVD set.
Violence, illegal pay-offs, drugs, intimidation. All things that you would relate to the yakuza, the Japanese mafia, but Gen Takahashi’s epic 3-hour exposé introduces us to the most dangerous gang on the streets – Japanese law enforcement.
Takeda (Shun Sugata) is an honest police officer, father and husband, but after he’s promoted to detective, he quickly becomes embroiled in dirty back room dealings, blackmail, and corruption that goes right to the top of the force.
Meanwhile, renegade investigator Kusama (Junichi Kawamoto) must decide whether he should shake the foundations of Japanese law enforcement with the information that has come into his possession about the police. What will happen if both these men listen to their consciences?
Too controversial to receive a theatrical release in Japan Confessions Of A Dog has instead been distributed out of Hong Kong and has won critical praise from around the globe at festival screenings.
Film: Confessions Of A Dog Release date: 14th March 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 195 mins Director: Gen Takahashi Starring: Shun Sugata, Harumi Inoue, Kunihiko Ida, Gen Idemitsu, Jun'ichi Kawamoto Genre: Crime/Drama Studio: Third Window Format: DVD Country: Japan
DVD Special Features:
• Forty-minute 'Making of', featuring deleted scenes
• Interview with director Gen Takahashi
• Panel discussion at the Shinsedei Film Festival
• Q&A with director at Shinsedei Film Festival
• Trailer
• Trailers of other Third Window releases
Film: Memories Of Matsuko Release date: 14th February 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 130 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Miki Nakatani, Eita, Yusuke Iseya, Teruyuki Kagawa, YosiYosi Arakawa Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Musical/Mystery Studio: Third Window Format: Blu-ray Country: Japan
Based on the acclaimed novel by Muneki Yamada, Tetsuya Nakashima’s Memories Of Matsuko comes to Blu-ray for the first time, after being adapted into a television series in its native Japan, and garnering worldwide acclaim from audiences and critics alike.
Young slacker Shô Kawajira (Eita) has moved to Tokyo with dreams of making it as a rock star, but soon finds himself leaving his band and breaking up with his girlfriend.
After stalking the streets of Tokyo’s Shinjuku district in search of a seedy thrill, he is abruptly woken by his well-to-do father, Norio, who arrives carrying a casket of ashes and some troubling news. He informs his son that his 53-year-old aunt, Matsuko, has been found murdered. He explains that she has led an entirely meaningless life and has been estranged from the family for thirty years. Previously unaware of her existence, Shô is uninterested until Norio asks him to clean out her apartment for him.
After arriving at the dilapidated building and beginning to sort through the piles of rubbish in the apartment, Shô finds an old photograph which allows him to begin to piece together elements of Matsuko’s life and the events leading to her murder. Intrigued, he learns more from the people that knew her in life, and soon discovers that her time on Earth was anything but meaningless.
After feeling like she was playing second fiddle to her terminally ill sister, Matsuko struggled with trying to win her father’s affections, eventually making him proud by becoming a school teacher, only to be dismissed after trying to protect a student, Ryu, who was accused of theft. What followed was a series of abusive relationships, plagued by suicide, murder and crime, including a spell in prison, work as a hostess girl and eventually becoming a Yakuza’s girlfriend.
Her intriguing story unfolds as Shô works his way through her belongings. Shô has some unexpected encounters of his own while aiming to solve the mystery surrounding her untimely death…
At first glance, it seems apparent that Memories Of Matsuko owes a debt of gratitude to Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amelie - from the artificial vibrancy of the colour palette to the playful nature of the narrative and naïve innocence of the protagonist - and in many ways this comparison is justified. However, Memories Of Matsuko carries with it a darker edge, and uses the fabricated sense of innocence to juxtapose the potentially disturbing and challenging aspects of Matsuko’s interesting life. Moments of hardship and terror are interspersed with impromptu musical numbers and scenery straight out of a child’s pop-up book. This playfulness continues into the ‘real’ world of Shô as he meets a colourful cast of characters, ranging from a tattooed mentalist punk to a vivacious porn star, who all share a connection to his late aunt.
One of the most engaging elements of the film is Matsuko herself, perfectly portrayed by Miki Takatani. She forms a perfect balance between the extroverted surrealism and fragility of the character, without becoming too melodramatic. Each stage of Matsuko’s life requires a shift of tone which proves effortless, exemplified by one of the most endearing running gags. As a child vying for her father’s affections, Matsuko finds that by pulling a face, in tribute to a Manzai act they see together, she could make her father laugh, thus taking some of the attention away from her sister, Kumi (Mikako Ichikawa). Throughout her life she continues to rely on this facial contortion as a coping mechanism in times of duress (of which she experiences many). As the troubling situations Matsuko finds herself in mount up, pulling this face becomes customary, with often hilarious results. However, as these situations grow from simply troubling to outright shocking, and the character retreats within herself on the road to becoming the eccentric recluse we know has just been killed, this act stops, sadly signalling an end to the childlike innocence of Matsuko, just as she has been corrupted and abused by those around her.
Matsuko laments that she needs a man to be happy, despite each one of them mercilessly beating and abusing her. This perseverance in the face of such adversity is rewarded by the ascent into heaven once Shô deciphers the mystery surrounding her murder, but is a questionable end result for someone who does little to escape her situation and defends these men to the detriment of her few positive relationships. This mixed moral message offers little to the film’s success, and somewhat undermines Matsuko’s complex and interesting characterisation.
The perfect balance of the film’s narrative tone is exacerbated by the unique visuals, which add a sense of melancholic surrealism to proceedings. This film really finds its home on Blu-ray, where the crisp, energetic palette glows and adds richness to the film that mesmerizes in high definition.
A vibrant, surreal and exciting film, Memories Of Matsuko is equal parts murder mystery, bildungsroman and fantasy. Takatani’s excellent performance forms the backbone of the narrative, and the superb art direction and imaginative use of a variety of narrative forms seems perfectly tailored to the Blu-ray format. RB
Film: Memories Of Matsuko Release date: 14th February 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 130 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Miki Nakatani, Eita, Yusuke Iseya, Teruyuki Kagawa, YosiYosi Arakawa Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Musical/Mystery Studio: Third Window Format: Blu-ray Country: Japan
From the heart and mind of multi award-winning Japanese director Tetsuya Nakashima - famed for the critically acclaimed Kamikaze Girls and, more recently, the Oscar-nominated Confessions - comes a visually stunning and peculiar musical- drama with a gritty undertone bubbling beneath its cherry blossom surface.
Do not let the genre fool you; this is far from the family friendly musical we have all come to know (and possibly love). Think more Sweeney Todd as opposed to Grease. The word “sex” is echoed three times within the opening minutes of Memories Of Matsuko, so PG this is not.
The resonance of such profanity can be heralded to Sho; a down-and-out, 20-year-old man drowning in a sea of porn and alcohol. He is quickly dumped by his current squeeze for living a somewhat meaningless existence.
After a particularly vice-filled night to dampen his heartbreak, he is awoken by his father, Norio, in a surprise visit. Norio, who is indifferent to the squalor of his son’s lifestyle, asks Sho for one simple favor. That is to clean the apartment of Matsuko Kawajiri, a 53-year-old, overweight and unkempt woman living as a worthless recluse. And to Sho, the aunt he never knew existed, until she was found murdered in cold blood.
From this point on, the story is told retrospectively, with Sho learning of his aunt’s life through the many different colorful characters he meets, whose lives are intricately linked with the memory of Matsuko. Beginning with the comic relief, tattooed neighbour and police detective, we jump back in time to Matsuko’s early years as a young, attractive school teacher. Matsuko’s story begins to unravel as the film jumps between the present day and the past.
From her childhood days, her rocky relationship with her father and sister, her downfall as a teacher, to her forays into abusive relationships, prostitution, prison, murder, love, friendship and salvation. We soon learn of every harrowing detail, which will eventually lead to her breaking point, and ultimate demise...
On the surface, Memories Of Matsuko is a simple story of love, loss and redemption told through bright, overly saturated colours and the occasional sing song. Matsuko (Miki Nakatini) drives the storyline as the naïve, head-in-the-clouds princess searching for that one true love, while trudging through the heartbreakers and rejects. However, writer and director Tetsuya Nakashima has taken this two-dimensional cliché and invigorated it with a genuine sense of humanity and life. He has in turn contributed a perfect reminder of one very important aspect of filmmaking - extraordinarily good storytelling!
Miki Nakatani’s portrayal of troubled heroine Matsuko Kawajiri is beyond any reasonable doubt, simply awe inspiring, and well-deserving of the six separate Best Actress awards she has received for such a complex character. She is able to capture the fundamental nature of a woman who is caught in a downward spiral, beginning with such captivating innocence as a young adult. We are able to understand the basis of why her character will ultimately end up the way she does, starting with the simple psychological fodder of ‘daddy issues’.
The neglect she receives from her father (who favours her over her sick sister) is a surprisingly relatable issue in today’s world. It is the strong yet simple ideal that Tetsuya Nakashima plays off, to bestow a sense of empathy and sympathy to a character who is, in effect, an extremely needy and, at times, self-absorbed person.
But it is because of the multiple dimensions this character has that Miki Nakatani proves her worth as a diverse actress. As Matsuko grows from the stereotypically cute young woman, both her character and her performance begin to gradually mature.
The constant strive to please people in the hope that it leads to acceptance is upheld as the backbone of such a character, and Miki does exceptionally well to provide the obligatory three dimensions throughout the film. But all is well and good saying she can smile or cry when the time is right, what is actually the most admirable aspect of Miki Nakatani’s performance is the significance of sincere emotion, charm and the authentic sense of confusion she injects into a character who is put into situations none of us would wish upon ourselves.
Her emotions are juxtaposed against her scenarios; so the subtleties like smiling softly after being beaten are visual oxymoron’s that make us forget that Matsuko is just a character in a film, and instead we see heartfelt performances from all the characters, that transcends past the screen and touches our hearts. We begin to realise that Matsuko is human, and feels as we would feel if we were to face blow after blow, devoid of any salvation.
If this sounds like you will be watching a human train wreck, then admittedly it is just that. As things go from bad to worse in Matsuko’s life, we find out through her eyes how she must feel despised (which is made clear at the beginning of the film when she utters: “Please forgive me for being born”) from the people she has hurt to her feelings of rejection. What Tetsuya Nakashima weaves from this is a cast of characters that prove the complete opposite.
This is where the one grumble rears its ugly head. A lot of the supporting characters, while heartfelt and very enjoyable to watch, can also be a tad over exaggerated. This is maybe intended to fool viewers into a false sense of security, especially coupled with the cartoony visuals; however, some characters feel like caricatures of people they should have been, with the saying ‘less is more’ applying.
As mentioned before, the visuals are CGI heavy, utilizing animation and quirky sound effects. All of this is put to good use alongside some very unusual cinematography. While definitely not everybody’s cup of tea, in the context of the subject matter being tackled in the film; it is clear that this is all intended to be a bizarre contrast to the very adult subject matter.
Diving deeper into the cinematography, it is clear that a lot of thought has been put into blending the emotion and colour together. Like a lot of Asian cinema, colour is vital. So like with Hero or Lady Vengeance, you will get your darker more sombre colours with your sad scenes, and your bright over-the-top colours and over exposure in happy scenes.
The same goes for the musical sequences; while very cute, catchy and enjoyable, coupled together with very applicable and literal lyrics, it, at times, can actually get quite awkward, especially if you’re a testosterone-filled male. The cutesy animations and bubblegum lyrics can make any adult feel fairly embarrassed if they are caught watching this alone. However, given a chance you will find that these musical sequences are actually a very inventive, and a creative muse for exceptional storytelling.
With an award from the Japanese Academy for Best Music Score; the music is intelligently interwoven into the story. So don’t expect to see hundreds of characters bursting into random harmonies. But instead the music acts more like a backing track to Matsuko’s life. Matsuko does not generally ‘sing’ but instead she ‘sings along’ to sometimes funny, or sometimes racy, but always genuinely intimate and applicable songs that pack one hell of an emotive punch.
Memories Of Matsuko is an epic tale of harrowing humanity, filled with lessons of life and unconditional love. Tetsuya Nakashima has woven together an irrefutable blend of good storytelling and interesting visuals to bring you a story that will touch you from the beginning to the end. If you enjoyed films like Amelie then be sure to give this a try. VLN
Following the critical acclaim of his previous features Kamikaze Girls and Memories Of Matsuko, genre-busting auteur Tetsuya Nakashima returns with Confessions, a notably darker but equally absorbing and typically idiosyncratic work, this time adapted from the award winning debut novel by Kanae Minato.
Reigning in his impulse to create surreal candy-coloured worlds full of chaos and confusion, with Confessions, Nakashima opts instead for an intense drama throbbing with dark emotions and powered by a savage central performance.
Takako Matsu (K-20: Legend Of The Mask) stars as Yuko Moriguchi, a middle-school teacher whose 4-year-old daughter is found dead. Shattered, she finally returns to her classroom only to become convinced that two of her students were responsible for her daughter's murder. No-one believes her, and she may very well be wrong, but she decides, nevertheless, that it's time to take her revenge.
What happens next is all-out psychological warfare waged against her students in an attempt to force them into confessing what she knows in her heart to be true: they are guilty and must be punished.
Brilliantly building the psychological tension from the film’s very start before pulling out all the stops for a devastating and explosive finale, Nakashima has produced what is arguably his most mature and impressive work to date. A superb script, excellent performances from a fine cast and a perfectly pitched soundtrack (that includes tracks by Radiohead, acclaimed Japanese experimental rock band Boris, and this year’s Mercury Prize winners,The XX) make Confessions one of the most original and impressive films of the year.
Film: Confessions Release date: 18th February 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 106 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Takako Matsu, Masaki Okada, Yoshino Kimura Genre: Drama/Thriller Studio: Third Window Format: Cinema Country: Japan
When a bored college student learns that a long lost aunt has been found dead in a park, he begins piecing together her life to see if it had any value. What he finds is a revelation.
Talented film director Tetsuya Nakashima (Kamikaze Girls) wields a host of cinematic tools to make Memories Of Matsuko a memorably entertaining and emotionally powerful fairytale tragedy, weaving together realistic human drama with offbeat comedy and spectacular (Bob Fosse-like) production numbers to tell the heartbreaking story of Matsuko Kawajiri, a starry-eyed woman who spends her entire life searching for a worthy ‘prince’ capable of returning her limitless love.
Versatile actress, Miki Nakatani, renders a virtuosic performance in the lead role of Matsuko.
Film: Memories Of Matsuko Release date: 14th February 2011 Certificate: 15 Running time: 130 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Miki Nakatani, Eita, Yusuke Iseya, Teruyuki Kagawa, YosiYosi Arakawa Genre: Comedy/Drama/Fantasy/Musical/Mystery Studio: Third Window Format: Blu-ray Country: Japan
Blu-ray Special Features:
• Making of
• Storyboard to film comparison
• Interview with music composer Gabriele Roberto
• Theatrical trailer
• Trailers of other Third Window Films titles
Confessions, the “latest masterpiece” from the director of Memories Of Matsuko and Kamikaze Girls, Tetsuya Nakashima, will final open theatrically on 18th February 2011, with the DVD and Blu-ray release tentatively set for 11th April 2011.
Third Window Films, who will distribute the film in the UK (and will also release Memories Of Matsuko on Blu-ray in February), have said dates are subject to change, however, so keep checking subtitledonline.com for latest updates in the New Year.
Third Window Films has announced the acquisition of Shion Sono's Cold Fish. The controversial director received critical acclaim for his previous Third Window release, Love Exposure.
Cold Fish is said to be based on ‘real events' in which a mild-mannered man's life is darkly turned on its head after unexpectedly becoming entwined with an insane serial killer.
The film should reach UK cinemas by May 2011, with a DVD/Blu-ray release pencilled in for June/July 2011.
Film: Love Exposure Release date: 25th January 2010 Certificate: 18 Running time: 237 mins Director: Sion Sono Starring: Takahiro Nishijima, Atsuro Watabe, Sakura Ando, Hikari Mitsushima, Yutaka Shimizu Genre: Action/Comedy/Crime/Drama/Romance Studio: Third Window Format: DVD Country: Japan
Alfred Hitchcock once quipped, “The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder,” and, valid though his point is, it comes to us from an age before the DVD. Watching Shion Sono’s Love Exposure, at a negligible three minutes short of four hours in length, the ability to pause without missing a scene is to be appreciated. The almost incredible length of the Japanese director’s sixth feature-length film to get worldwide release (previous outings include the celebrated Suicide Club) is not the only perplexing characteristic of a film which landed fourteen awards on the international festival circuit. A tangle of techniques unfolds a convoluted narrative inhabited by unorthodox characters, and the effect is nothing if not original.
The story brings together several plot lines and characters focussed around 17-year-old Yu Honda (Takahiro Nishijima).
Following the death of Yu’s mother at the beginning of the film, his devout Catholic father, Tetsu, played by Atsuro Watabe, decides to join the ministry. Shortly after, tempted and quickly jilted by a capricious woman, the gentle priest begins to punish his son for his own loss by demanding Yu’s daily confession.
A well-behaved Catholic boy, Yu goes out in search of sins to commit in order to satisfy the vicarious desires of his father. Requiring sins of a suitable depravity, Yu becomes a master of up-skirt photography on unsuspecting passers-by. One girl, Aya Koike (Sakura Ando), catches Yu, despite his talent for panty-peeking espionage, and takes an interest in him and his work. The diabolical leader of a Christian cult, Aya hatches a plan to ruin Yu and convert his family to the Zero Church…
This exploration of voyeuristic perversion and the strictures of a minority religion (less than one percent of the Japanese population practice Christianity) is ambiguous in terms of genre. The plot is as farcical as it sounds, and a sexual humour pervades. However, often with a sardonic edge to the dark subject matter, and scenes of touching sensitivity, Love Exposure is far from a lightweight comedy.
Yu’s voyeurism is, at first, nothing more than teenage lust (fairly) innocently misdirected. However, in Sono’s hands, it turns to a critique of the dichotomy of sexual repression and open objectification of women in Japanese culture, and takes a blatant Oedipal approach to Yu’s dead mother via sexualising the image of the Virgin Mary.
Indeed, sexual taboos, that in a sombre, hard-hitting drama might take centre stage, are in plentiful supply in Love Exposure, yet never succumb to a dark eroticism. From incest to genital mutilation, every hidden act is individually painted with broad and often humorous, brush strokes, which in the grand panorama of this lengthy film paint a picture of a society with complex sex issues.
As a consequence of the length of the film, and quantity of plot points this intricate thematic exploration creates, characters do not develop through a traditional narrative arc. Sympathies for Yu, his father and his lover Kaori (Makiko Watanabe), Aya and the object of Yu’s affection and lust Yoko (Hikari Mitsushima), are not so much divided as constantly flipped as a result.
Nishijima’s performance flits between brilliantly choreographed slapstick and an emotional sensitivity, which lends his character the believability necessary to elevate this film above a bizarre comic experiment. Yu’s endeavours are both fun and foolish, and the audience wants him to be caught and to fail only to be then hurt by his failures, and support his struggle for liberation.
Ando's sadistic cult leader Koike is a brilliant comic-book villain, combining menace and allure in her tyrannical smile. Yet, her brief back story reveals a troubled and complex psychology, which makes her character and where she could take us much more than that.
Ghosts and fantasies haunt the periphery of every character, and love-interest Yoko is no exception. A girl who left her abusive womanising father, to tag along with the return of the flighty Kaori into the lives of Yu and Tetsu, is the owner of the only pair of panties to give Yu his longed for erection. Shortly after this feat, she falls in love with Yu’s female alter ego Miss Scorpion before joining the Zero Church with the zeal of a convert. Still, she may well be the least interesting of the film's band of misfits.
Tetsu is never fully explored but Watabe's subtle performance in his limited screen time consistently maintains the tragic loss of the opening throughout. His gentle priest in search of love through his son, God and Kaori is ordinary in comparison to much of the film, serving to anchor the meandering distractions in an accessible sadness.
Love Exposure is idiosyncratically Japanese, right down to the J-Pop soundtrack and off-beat comic set-pieces, but with a self-awareness to pastiche Japanese popular culture, or, more accurately, Western perceptions of it. For example, Yu learns the art of taking dirty pictures from a wise old master in a montage of martial art-style training, and all the teenage central characters have an inexplicable talent for karate that allows them to fight off scores of bad guy goons with ease. There is also the occasional nod to the traditions of Japanese cinema from the overblown blood spattering of ‘70s samurai movies to the more modern violence of Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale.
So much is brought together in this film; influences and original ideas stitched together in a cinematic patchwork and though, like a patchwork, it may be made of so many apparently ill-fitting constituent parts it still serves its purpose as a quilt. Love Exposure has as many 'purposes' as parts, but they can be neatly contained within the blanket of satisfying entertainment. GC
Film: Fish Story Release date: 26th July 2010 Certificate: 15 Running time: 112 mins Director: Yoshihiro Nakamura Starring: Atsushi Ito, Kengo Kora, Mikako Tabe, Gaku Hamada, Mirai Moriyama Genre: Comedy Studio: Third Window Format: DVD Country: Japan
Based on a novel by Isaka Kotaro, Fish story is a film that’s divided into several specific time periods, following the lives of various individuals whose actions are interwoven through the years, seemingly unconnected.
The film opens in the year 2012 in a deserted city that will soon be hit by a very large comet, which we see looming in the sky above. Here we find a lone stranger riding the empty streets on his mobility scooter (although he can walk easily), knocking bicycles over along the way, and generally coming across as very odd – and seemingly the only man left.
He happens across a music store which, much to his bafflement is open and running for business as usual. He walks in, curious about what he might find, and inside are two of its employees who seem completely unconcerned by the city’s impending disaster - laughing and joking as if it were just another ordinary day.
As the stranger attempts to shock them with a dose of Armageddon like reality, the store owner plays a punk song entitled ‘Fish Story’ by The Gekerin, and proclaims it to be “the song that will save the earth.”
Events then jump to the year 1975, where an unknown band called The Gekerin are recoding their final track ‘Fish Story’ before they part company - Japan is apparently not a fan of the band that seems way ahead of its time. Their final song, however, may prove to have profound effects on future events that affect the entire world...
The story continues to jump timelines, introducing us to new characters and new stories, each one as odd as the last. Mixing genres such as comedy, drama, sci-fi and even martial arts, it’s hard to place Fish Story into a specific category. It’s refuses to cater for the conventional masses, and echoes the works of director Richard Kelly.
The acting performances throughout are fine, with Nao Omori particularly impressing as ‘Vibrator’. If there is a weak link, it is Mikako Tabe in a smaller role (she mostly cries, unconvincingly). Atsushi and Kengo are strong as the Vicious and Rotten of Japan, and though clearly not rock stars, they're convincing enough to carry their share of the film, and impress when singing the film’s title song - a fantastically hummable tune that will swim around in your mind.
Director Yoshihiro Nakamura crafts some expertly handled and atmospheric moments. The opening alone is eerily effective, with its empty streets and the looming meteor threatening global destruction. He also manages to create a well executed fight scene in the latter half, as some impressive martial arts action momentarily gets the pulse going again.
The film has a bright, shiny color palette with unfussy camera movements that doesn't distract from the complicated story, a wise move under the circumstances - to say the time manipulations are jarring is an understatement (there are five distinct eras where the action unfolds).
If the story sounds baffling, then rest assured that the final ten minutes does succeed in making sense of it all, condensing the timeline into one comprehensive chain of events. However, the journey to this point is often so perplexing, and often at a snail’s pace, that you may not care. The film places all its aces on the conclusion, but forgets to make the journey an entertaining one, rendering the conclusion superfluous.
Nakamura has created an intricate tale but it’s almost two hour running time is all a bit of a drag. You yearn for something plausible to happen, something that will make sense of the events you’ve just witnessed. It’s all a bit too uninvolving and, unfortunately, it doesn’t gel as a whole. Long segments of the film are verging on boring, with its mix of genres making you feel like you’re watching a medley of different films all edited together to create a confusing whole.
Coming across as a sort of High Fidelty meets Donnie Darko, Fish Story is an admirable oddity that sadly lacks any emotional involvement, and becomes a patience tester that only fans who like their films heavy on the unconventional side will appreciate. GY
Film: Kamikaze Girls Release date: 8th February 2010 Certificate: 12 Running time: 103 mins Director: Tetsuya Nakashima Starring: Kyoko Fukuda, Anna Tsuchiya, Kirin Kiki, Hiroyuki Miyasako Genre: Comedy Studio: Third Window Format: DVD & Blu-ray Country: Japan
An ode to individuality, friendship and loyalty in a cynical, somewhat desperate world. Does Kamikaze Girls have anything new to say?
17-year-old Momoko (Fukada) is fiercely individual. Eschewing modern fashion in favour of the rococo style, with which she is forever obsessed, she also treats the people around her with a curiously cold detachment. When her ‘useless’, wannabe gangster father (Miyasako) is run out of the city for selling counterfeit designer merchandise in a scheme that incurs the wrath of both Universal Studios and Versace, Momoko is taken to the countryside to live with her grandmother (Kirin Kiki).
Keen to continue buying her favourite frilly dresses, Momoko begins selling the remainder of her father's counterfeit clothes, and before she knows it, into her life rides Ichigo (Tsuchiya), a sullen, hot-tempered teenage biker girl. Ichigo is also fiercely individual, though her external toughness masks an inner desire to belong and be accepted, even if it’s by just one other person.
These two girls have nothing in common except that they have (different) wild imaginations and slightly skewed views of the world around them. Will their antagonism give way to friendship? And will that friendship survive the challenges life throws at it?
Kamikaze Girls is a film that defies easy categorisation, and this proves to be to its endless benefit, as it shifts gears from zany comedy to odd-couple ‘dramedy’ and, finally, to a tense and gritty urban showdown.
Held together by loveable characters, whose good and bad traits are given equal airing, the story rips through a succession of increasingly bizarre situations and sequences that truly dazzle the heart as well as the eyes and brain. And while the story feels haphazard, it never feels false, even in the final third when the characters inch towards scenarios that are more structured and ‘written’ than what has come before. If a viewer is not entirely sure how seriously to take the face-off that forms the climax, director Tetsuya Nakashima is astute enough to quickly right the course and reassert the film’s offbeat tone before the narrative - alternately madcap and reflective - careens off the rails. It is a measure of the film’s infectious nature that, even during what at first feels like a forced climactic conflict, the audience is always willing to ‘go with it’.
Nakashima’s genius is in making the ordinary memorable, and the absurd relatable - all the while making sure that almost everything is, simply, incredibly funny. The madcap first ten minutes features a rapid succession of bravura images: a love-at-first-sight encounter between a drunk woman, projectile vomiting in a way that would make Linda Blair’s head spin; a petty criminal prostrate and sobbing after losing his nerve on a ‘hit’; the view of Momoko from underneath a cow; the camera angle from the point-of-view of a baby being born; another baby born - wearing a tracksuit! And it continues, with the director employing every nifty trick in the cinematic book - rewinds to the rococo period; to-camera asides; summarising flashbacks and cartoons (“so you kids don’t fall asleep”). A cynic may argue that these are simply cheap tricks, style over substance, and they would miss the point completely - like the central characters, Nakashima goes his own way, according to his own whims and wants. It is the perfect stylistic choice for a narrative about teenage outsiders.
If there is one niggle, it is that the film suffers from a short, second-act lull after its utterly riotous introduction to the life of its protagonist, perhaps waiting a little too long before introducing the second half of its central odd couple, Ichigo. Stalling its pace to fill in her back-story, the film’s opening forty minutes play like two first acts in sequence, before beginning its ‘odd-couple’ story where the two very different girls find, if not common ground, then a definite kinship based on mutual alienation. This is not to take away from the performance of Anna Tsuchiya, who turns one of the more common cinematic clichés - the bad girl who wants to be loved - into an endearing, three-dimensional character that the audience feels and roots for, but her initial appearance effectively ‘catches’ the pinball-like narrative.
What pulls the film through during this slightly sluggish period is its characters - broad, over-the-top, but with a novelistic attention to the little details that lends them richness. Ichigo (…of the Ponytails) is prone to spelling mistakes, mispronunciation and, most memorably, spitting in between threats (“She spat!”). She also makes a habit of head butting Momoko when she is cross. Momoko’s father is gullible, sentimental, and prone to severe depression during bad times and impossible cockiness during the good. Her one-eyed grandmother can pluck insects out of the air with Ninja-like precision.
None of these characters are broader, more over-the-top and richly realised than Kyoko Fukada’s Momoko - a breathtakingly beautiful, endearingly sweet teenager who is nevertheless magnificently selfish and nihilistic, apparently tired of human interaction. The character is almost serene in her perverse, pseudo-angelic superiority (as when her 10-year-old self tells her mother that: “humans are cowards in the face of happiness”). Fukada’s gears shift so smoothly, one never questions Momoko’s contradictions, even when she moves from sternly defending her Rococo-inspired, frilly dress to glibly encouraging the hot-tempered Ichigo make good on a vague threat to kill her. Indeed, before the narrative dictates that she come out of her shell, Momoko’s selfishness should alienate audiences. That it does not is a testament to Fukada’s intuitive performance and natural charisma. If the protagonist wrongly thinks that the world revolves around her, there is no denying that this film gratefully orbits its leading lady.
Infectious, joyous and uplifting. Perfectly tempering cynicism with genuine warmth, Kamikaze Girls is a true delight. JN
