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Film: Azumi
Year of production: 2003
UK Release date: 2nd August 2004
Distributor: Optimum
Certificate: 18
Running time: 123 mins
Director: Ryûhei Kitamura
Starring: Aya Ueto, Kenji Kohashi, Hiroki Narimiya, Takatoshi Kaneko, Yûma Ishigaki
Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama/Fantasy/Thriller
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Japan
Language: Japanese
Review by: Anastasia Catris
Based on the popular Japanese manga series by Yū Koyama, Azumi has been adapted into two feature films, a video game and even a stage play. The first film, Azumi, directed by Ryuhei Kitamura, has proved popular amongst audiences at home and abroad, having received the Audience Award at the Philadelphia Film Festival in 2004 and the Popularity Award at the Japanese Academy Awards in 2003. Kitamura is best known in Japan for his work on the TV drama Sky High, as well as branching into cut scene direction for the popular video game series Metal Gear Solid.
The film centres on the title character, Azumi (Aya Ueto), a female assassin raised and trained by her idealist master, Gessai (Yoshio Harada), in the isolation of the Japanese mountains. She is one of ten young assassins being trained to fulfil Gessai’s ‘mission’ to eradicate war through the assassination of war mongers and warlords. The ten assassins are whittled down to five: Hyûga (Kenji Kohashi), Nagara (Yûma Ishigaki), Ukiha (Hiroki Narimiya), Amagi (Takatoshi Kaneko) and Azumi in the opening of the film, and they proceed on their mission alongside their master.
As they pick off their enemies one by one, morals are brought into question and we follow Azumi as she begins to debate her role as a woman, an assassin and a murderer. The remaining warlord, Kato, dispatches a number of mercenaries to stop the assassins, including Saru (the ‘monkey face’) and a group of three inept brothers. The young assassins stop in a small village and befriend a troupe of acrobats, including the beautiful Yae who Hyuga falls for.
When the travelling performers leave the village they are met along the way by the gang of three brothers, who mistake them for the assassins and attack them, leaving Yae alone. After the three brothers fail to kill the young assassins, Saru is saddled with the task of negotiating with an insane and notorious criminal, Bijomaru (Jô Odagiri) to eradicate Azumi and her compatriots. Upon escorting Yae back to the main road, Hyuga is attacked by Bijomaru and Yae is once again left alone.
Meanwhile, the master, Nagara and Ukiha set off to kill Kato and the master is captured in the process. The mission shifts as the remaining assassins set off to rescue their master. Yae joins Azumi and acts as a feminine influence on her as Azumi has never known female companionship. After attempting to feminize Azumi through dressing her in a kimono and make up, Yae and Azumi are once again attacked by thugs on the road. Azumi realizes that she can never escape violence and returns to help Nagara and Ukiha save their master. The film reaches its climax as Azumi faces off against Bijomaru, Saru and an entire army of mercenaries and soldiers, to rescue her master…
As we join Azumi and her associates, it is striking that the costume and make-up seem modern and stylised. From the short, colourful tunics to the ‘Tokyo Pop’ hairstyles of the young men, it is evident that this is an action film for a younger audience. This is not surprising given that the source material is a popular manga series.
Many of the performances are heightened and melodramatic, especially Odagiri’s Bijomaru, who dons long black hair, a white kimono, red and pink eye make-up, and the prop of a single red rose. Utilising manga tropes, exaggeration and costuming may be accurate to the source material but does not seem to translate well to live action. Instead, the performances become comic and pantomimic. This is notable in scenes such as the rogue brothers’ attack on the acrobats. Due to their ‘over-the-top’ performances, their attack becomes comedic and unthreatening. Despite the horrific ways they treat the acrobat troupe - especially the female performers - we remain unaffected by their actions. Such performances make it difficult for an audience to connect to the characters and their activities.
Contrary to this, we have the performances of Aya Ueto and her young co-stars. Their characterization is far more subtle and emotional, allowing us to follow their journey more carefully. The direct opposition of the subtlety of the heroes and the melodrama of the villains creates an obvious directorial intention: to de-humanise the villains and allow us to empathize with the heroes, who are still essentially murderers themselves. At times, this opposition acts against the ‘heroes’, however, whose low-key performances get lost amongst the colour and harshness of the supporting cast.
The battle scenes are beautifully choreographed and dynamically shot with some standout stunt performances. It is the opening scene, however, which stands out the most. Azumi and her friends must face an emotionally and morally difficult decision in order to continue their mission alongside their master. Character direction aside, it is evident from the opening sequences that these young actors are friends and enjoy each other’s company. Such friendship makes the opening scene heart-wrenching after only a minimal amount of character development and screen time.
Sadly, the film degrades into a sensationalist display of choreography and stunts after this early moment of sensitivity, and the performances are lost to poor dialogue, as well as black-and-white character roles. We are led to believe that Azumi is battling with the moral quandary of murder over killing for a cause, yet this is washed over by the large performances around her, masking the subtlety of her emotion.
Overall, the feel of this film is cartoon-like with its exaggerated performances and simplistic oppositions. By relying on live-action human performances, the director is asking us to familiarise more with the characters, however, this is not achieved. We are distanced from the emotion of the protagonists and the actions of the antagonists through the animated and melodramatic performances, which begs the question whether or not Azumi would be better presented as an animation rather than a live action film.
Despite its positive reception, Azumi remains a hollow film. Largely style over substance, it relies on the popularity and modern appeal of its young cast to reel in a young audience, ignoring the difficult themes and moral debates of its source material. ANC
Film: Sakuran
Release date: 12th January 2009
Certificate: 15
Running time: 111 mins
Director: Mika Ninagawa
Starring: Anna Tsuchiya, Kippei Shiina, Yoshino Kimura, Hiroki Narimiya, Miho Kanno
Genre: Drama
Studio: ICA
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
First time director Mika Ninagawa captures a vibrant interpretation of a the manga series of the same name, and Japanese idol Anna Tsuchiya brings the main character to life as a bad girl rising her way up the ranks from servant girl to the highest courtesan, known as an oiran.
The pre-credits begin in a flurry of cherry blossom, appropriate as sakura translates to cherry blossom, and they feature throughout. We see the not quite linear narrative of Kiyoha, sold into the Yoshiwara pleasure district as a maid when she was young; she is rebellious and rude, even as a child. Her attempts at running away are always thwarted, and she is told that it doesn’t matter where you are in life, every place is the same.
Enveloped in this world of women, she is raised to be a courtesan and singled out early by the current oiran as not only having potential and the spirit needed to be successful, but also the tenacity to maintain her position.
Soon after her debut, Kiyoha is quickly established as one of the most popular girls in the district, despite her young age. She has learnt the tricks of the trade well, and men can’t get enough of her. Such success, however, inevitably invites jealousy from the other girls, and tensions bubble to boiling point. It’s not long before she attracts the attentions of a handsome client and they fall for each other, but she is soon to learn that age old lesson that the road of love for a courtesan is never easy or obstacle free...
Sakuran is shot in an extremely vibrant and lively environment, perfectly capturing the slightly more garish world of courtesans compared to geisha. In every scene, the surroundings and colours are constructed perfectly. There is a heavy emphasis on red in most shots, obviously bringing to our mind the passion which this film is focused around. Yet the occasional shot of nature is astonishingly beautiful, particularly the cherry blossom which surrounds the city. It is filmed in a playful way, much like the character of Kiyoha - a little bit rude and abrupt, yet dreamy. In a film about prostitutes, one might expect plenty of shots of seedy trysts, and whilst there are a few, there are also some surprisingly intimate and tasteful scenes as well.
Whilst the narrative might come across as a typical story of the ambitions of a young girl turning to a love story, it brings something more to the tale than that. It explores the occasionally toxic environment of the working girls, the jealousies that grow, and the deceit which is inherent in the position. It highlights the trials and tribulations facing these girls: the desire to escape, desire to love, and the reality that it is near impossible. The mood is one of a harsh reality that the girls can only attempt to make the best of, despite their disdain for the job and their hope to escape it.
Anna Tsuchiya plays the role of troublesome Kiyoha to perfection. Bursting onto the acting scene with her role as tough-girl yanki in Kamikaze Girls, in which, despite her constant head-butting and spitting, she brought a certain charm and tenderness to the role - exactly what she does here. Supported by the other strong performances, she plays Kiyoha as cheeky and likeable, insolent, but tender-hearted deep down, illustrated in some truly touching emotional scenes later on.
One of the more surprising aspects of the film is its innovative soundtrack. Throughout the film, it swaps between Japanese jazz, big band sound, soulful female singers, J-pop and even grunge. A veritable melting pot of modern music, and all utilised extremely effectively depending on the scene. Occasionally during montage sequences, the shots have been made to fit the music, making them punchy and effective. Although the music might appear heavy handed, it fits in with the playful style that the film has throughout.
Sakuran plays out like a high contrast Memoirs Of A Geisha, but with less restraint, more fun - and a lot more smut. A touching and modern take on the life of working girls in the Edo period. If nothing else you’ve read about the story and performances grab you, the film’s recommended for the stunning visuals alone.
Film: Lala Pipo
Release date: 8th February 2010
Certificate: 18
Running time: 93 mins
Director: Masayuki Miyano
Starring: Tomoko Murakami, Hiroki Narimiya, Saori Hara, Yuri Nakamura, Takashi Yoshimura
Genre: Comedy
Studio: Third Window
Format: DVD
Country: Japan
Lala Pipo (or, A Lot Of People) is a Japanese comedy, based on a book of the same name by author Okuda Hideo. At the helm is director Masayuki Miyano, and Testsuya Nakashima, whose screenplay attempts to translate the source material’s adult take on modern Tokyo, without compromising the novel’s darkly-skewed sense of humour.
The resulting film feels like a severely misjudged effort; whose rendering of sexuality and gender roles are positively archaic. Those problems are further compounded by a set of budget production values that fail to fill the deficit left by crudely drawn characters and an uninteresting plot.
“There are two types of people in this world, people who have sex and people who watch people have sex.” So suggests Kenji Kurino, played by a suitably repellent Hiroki Narimiya, in the film’s opening sequence. In a weave of short narrative arcs, the lives of seemingly unconnected people come together, as their sexual exploits (or lack thereof) bring them into contact with each other.
Kenji Kurino is a man whose job it is to recruit people into Tokyo’s sex industry, wooing potential candidates into a life of prostitution and sexual exploitation with his good looks and flattery. Yuri Nakamura is the perennially shy, sexually passive Tomoko, who is effectively tricked into becoming a sex-worker. Besides the two main protagonists, the cast is fleshed out by a collection of auxiliary characters: an overweight compulsive masturbator, a sex-hungry older woman, anime-obsessed Koichi and the ghoulish, child-like Sayuri – whose closing chapter actually provides the film’s strongest moments…
Over the course of the film, one man is raped, a woman suffering from mental illness sleeps with her daughter, several people are beaten up, and many more are forced into demeaning sexual situations. On the other hand: two giant robots battle using their genitals, a loner has conversations with his giant green penis, and a pimp with a giant afro turns in the film’s most successful performance. The entire hour and a half running time is a mess of conflicting intentions and tones.
The source material and the stories told herein seem to provide the perfect platform to discuss social taboos and modern sexual practice, asking to take a tongue-in-cheek leer into the seedier side of Tokyo. However, as a film, it fails to succeed on nearly all fronts.
From the moment Lala Pipo opens, the colour palette arrests your attention. The bubblegum-blues and electric-pinks set the tone for the rest of the film. However, the glare from the screen long outstays its welcome, giving way to a visual design that is shallow and technically uneven in its execution. The framing and composition are uninspired; the special effects and treatment of the video image are noticeably low budget. The music is a dirge of J-pop ballads as forgettable as they are unsuitable.
Lala Pipo’s primary failing, however, is in its treatment of such sensitive subject matter. It fails utterly to balance humour and gravity, and instead ends up an offensive piece of work. All the female characters are painted as passive, sexual objects, whose only power comes from their ability to serve men. None are liberated, nor seem to exist outside of the sphere of male influence. Sexual violence and humiliation are difficult subjects for a comedy to even begin to wrestle with; and had Lala Pipo been a pure comedy it may, through sheer bravado been more palatable. What, in the end, makes the film offensive is this ill-fitting message of hope, presented in sentimental asides and voice-over. A suggestion that being ruthless in your aspirations, singular in your cruelty and, if female, submissive to the point of complete abandonment, that love can redeem. A wildly inappropriate moral line for a film this exploitative; so much so, that as an audience member you are reluctant to, even in the simple act of watching, to be complicit.
Is Lala Pipo so bad that it is good? No, although it certainly is the former. Is it so controversial that it is trailblazing? No, rather it is distinctly outdated. Is it successful as a comedy, or a compelling drama; does it manage to fuse the two? No.
Masayuki Miyano does manage, on occasion, to redeem this picture. There are a few genuine laughs to be had, and thanks to some assured editing, the film never really drags. Sayuri is grotesque enough to hold your attention during the film’s closing final chapters, and the DVD features a bizarre, but interesting little feature that asks the cast to elaborate on the word ‘sex’. It is telling that their answers, some of which are oddly poetic, are measurably more interesting and funny than the film’s own Stone Age take on the subject.
In the end, it is unfortunate that after Lala Pipo’s initially promising, sugary-sweet visuals have burned off your retina, you are left with a decidedly bad taste in your mouth.
