Tag Archives: Film Review

I Wish (2011) – A Film Review

This film took me back to my childhood in a massive way. The carefree attitudes, the swimming lessons, discussing how the leftover crisp packet crumbs are the best bits. Luckily, that’s not all my childhood consisted of, had it been I’d probably be an Olympic-level swimmer with a Walkers deal … which upon reflection doesn’t sound all that bad.

I am currently making more of an effort to watch Japanese and South Korean cinema. To be honest, I’m trying to watch more films in general. My best year for Film was 2017 when I was in my second year of University. I’d often receive and be given recommendations from a friend at film school, discussing genre-bending pieces like Ben Wheatley’s A Field in England thanks to a recommendation from the king of film criticism, Mark Kermode.

Of course with Japanese and Korean cinema, the settings are based in places I know little of, which was part of the charm surrounding I Wish (2011),a film directed by Kore-eda Hirokazu. There was something tangible captured in its 128-minute runtime, I myself felt part of this group of friends, feeling somewhat exhausted after watching them traipse up the long and winding hill to school. My journey was slightly easier, consisting of an hour-long bus journey where the sweltering Indonesian weather was only made bearable by the occasional gust of wind from the bus window.

Swimming was an enjoyable part of twelve-year-old Koichi’s day, a subject he’d discuss over the phone with his brother Ryunosuke in great detail. The film was so brimming with a childhood innocence that even when Koichi’s friend revealed his recently dead pet dog was in his backpack, it was endearing and not completely horrifying. There’s obviously more context, yet it proves how focused Hirokazu’s direction was throughout the process, flipping this horror-esque trope on its head. I was totally invested in this journey, eager to watch these brothers reunite amidst the complications of their parent’s divorce.

As a backdrop, Japan plays a huge role in the film, with its many cultural colloquialisms seeping onto the screen. A huge volcano would linger in the background as Koichi would walk to school, its towering presence over Kagoshima a factor that the residents would simply have to put up with. One can only imagine how terrifying that would be as a child, a cultural separation that the director was tasked with communicating to the Western audience.

One of the mothers works behind a bar, serving drinks to elderly gentlemen while reflecting on her failed dream of becoming an actor. Consequently, she projects this onto her daughter, doubting her drive and ability to shine against the blinding lights of Tokyo. As with many of the character arcs, Hirokazu amends this by giving her a real moment in the spotlight, when the consequences are high and the group of friends trailing behind need her to pull through. Even as a child, these little wins go on to have big effects.

There was another scene in which the boys are trying to raise money for what appears to be a cross-country train journey, yet could easily have been a normal commute for your city worker. Events are exaggerated in our youth and the director manages to translate this successfully through his writing. Each of the toys sells for 5000 Yen, with the game shop worker observing them with his intricate figurine-based knowledge. This reminded me of many trades that took place in my childhood, and one in particular which involved me swapping a set of Pokémon cards for a three-headed Japanese dragon. I’d later go on to find out that the dragon was called Ghidorah, a monster of cultural significance in Japanese lore and frequently referred to by the late rapper, MF DOOM. Even the snacks they would eat and drink would take me back to the days of sipping Pocari Sweat in the humidity of the Indonesian summer.

I enjoyed this film a lot. With buckets of heart and spoonful’s of charm, this should definitely be a watch for anyone who has lost their inner child along the way. If you’ve got MUBI then I highly recommend giving it a watch!

Park Chan-wook – Time means nothing

Last night I watched Park Chan-wook’s The Handmaiden (2016), a film packed with the Director’s narrative style. My thirst (pun intended) for Korean storytelling still lingered, remembering I’d seen his short film crop up on MUBI, I swiftly hit play. Park Chan-wook’s short film, titled Judgement (1999), was based on the 1995 collapse of the Sampoong Department store, a catastrophe that saw many people swoop in to claim Government pay-outs. The film was perfectly named and explored the theme of judgment from almost every angle imaginable. The Morgue worker’s character was so fully developed within the 26-minute run time, proving the director does not need a 2-hour-plus in order to tell a story. Even characters who had only been referred to through memories seemed to roam the physical space of the morgue’s back room, a further implication of the brilliant script. As the cameramen are shoved out of the room, Chan-wook shows us the behind-the-scenes results of the Sampoong Department store, where family secrets are no longer buried. Judgement is more than worth your time and goes to show exactly how much the short film medium can achieve.

Luckily for you, it’s available to watch on YouTube, so if you’ve got a spare 30 minutes or need some thought-provoking material, this should be on your list.

Koyaanisqatsi : Life Out of Balance

I really didn’t know what to expect when I queued Francis Ford Coppola’s Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance last Sunday evening. About ten minutes in I thought, “guess we’re in for a 2001: A Space Odyssey type of intro”, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Thirty minutes later and the held, visual shots that coincided with the music kept going. At that point, I assumed this was it in terms of its narrative. I was right. Whilst at first I was a bit annoyed, wanting to watch a film with more let alone any dialogue, seemed like a small ask. Especially when I was trying to eat my Sunday Lunch leftovers (the roast potatoes were great thanks for asking). At around the thirty-five-minute mark I was left at a crossroads. Do I turn this off and opt for something less involved? I only spent a pound on the two DVD collection from the charity shop so all-in-all it wasn’t too much of a loss. However, Francis Ford Coppola was a household name and any future conversation involving him could have been jeopardised by the fact that I gave up on one of his films less than halfway through. Weighing my options, I decided to persist. In hindsight I made the right decision. Whilst the film can come across as pretentious, this will only occur if you do not surrender yourself to it. I went in extremely blind having briefly read the blurb on the back of the case when I first purchased it but had since forgotten the premise. I truly did not know what to expect. The first of the collection was called “Life Out of Balance”. A fitting title.

I recently finished Yvonne Chouinard’s Let My People Go Surfing which I quite enjoyed in a shockingly, interesting way. I feel like the film could go hand-in-hand with this book. I can imagine the author and owner of Patagonia reading excerpts of his book along to this film and it would work marvellously. I feel like the film began to influence me once I decided to surrender myself to it as a work of art, which this film is undoubtably so. To call this anything other than art would not do it justice.

Once the human built and City scape elements of the film came in, that is when I started to become transfixed with what I was watching. The city shots reminded me of the ones used in the original Bladerunner (1969). Thanks to Corridor Digital’s great behind the scenes look into the film making process, I was aware that those shots were achieved using miniatures and model-sized lights blinking away. This made me think of the way cities are designed and inspired more so by circuitry rather than nature. You could easily have mistaken several held shots of a city for a motherboard. One moment I loved was of a glass windowed building from ground level that reflected the blue sky above. At first I thought, “what a great image”. Yet it was only seconds later that I realised that it is not the building that is beautiful, but the sky itself. Buildings will never achieve the ability to mesmerise like nature does, the best it can do is mimic the natural beauty surrounding it.

The last few months I also have understood how much processed foods we as people consume. After recently having the chance to experience being close to nature, eating organic food and soaking in the power of the sun, I appreciate this film’s message a lot more. The numerous shots of factory-made goods were just another reminder of how detached we are from the food chain process. This film came out in the 80s which was a decade that saw leaps and bounds in the consumption of electronic items. It was also the decade in which we started to become aware of the effect humans were having on the planet. The News was covered with the idea of having a hole in the Ozone Layer, caused greatly by chemicals used in beauty products at the time.

My favourite shot in the entire film was right of the end. I had spent the last 20 minutes being almost hypnotised by the sped-up shots and score. I was yanked out of this trance when I thought I was watching Interstellar, an absolute favourite of mine. I have no doubt that Nolan has watched this and taken huge inspiration from this portion. In fact, Koyaanisqatsi itself deals with a deteriorating world that is implied if we do not change our course. The last minute or so, we see the remains of an exploded Space Rocket spin violently back to Earth. In this instance it is slowed down so we can see it spinning, flames lashing out of it. Similar to the floating plastic bag scene from American Beauty, it was arresting. I watched the flames roar and then tame themselves, switching between the two every few seconds. “Was this a looped shot” I began to wonder, almost forgetting that this object was hurtling towards earth. I was so entrapped. This last image was one that really summed up the films message. Whilst alluring, this fiery mess was racing towards its destruction.

I look forward to seeing the second film, Powaqqatsi: Life in Transformation. If there is anything that could convince me that we are living in a simulation it is this, so let’s hope the next one has a slightly more positive outlook!

The Beauty in Enduring Love’s Opening

I recently picked up several DVD’s from a charity shop for a pound each. One of these were Enduring Love (2004), a film I had never heard of before until the moment I picked it up. Seeing pre – Bond era Daniel Craig on the front cover, I was intrigued. That intrigue was further added to by the large Red Hot balloon on which normally signifies a family friendly element to the piece of art, yet with an R-rated 18 at the bottom corner, this could not be the case.

This film has without a doubt, one of the most edge of your seat openings I have experienced. Greeted by the peaceful English countryside, I relaxed into the warmth of my sofa. “Two people having a picknick” I thought, my body sunk even further into the soft cushions. Yet in less than two minutes, the entrance of our intriguing red hot air balloon decides to take centre stage, a sense of unease crashing along behind it. Gone were the extensive shots of landscape and the gentle pace of Joe (Daniel Craig’s character) trying to open up an expensive bottle of champagne. Now came a entourage of quick cuts, close ups and shaky handheld shots which undoubtably switched up the tone. A succession of characters we weren’t familiar with then come running into frame (literally), all trying to prevent this wrecking ball of a hot air balloon from taking flight. They successfully stop it moving till what seems like a godly presence in the form of a badly timed gust of winds sends the balloon soaring upwards again. It is at this point we as the audience expect the danger to continue, which it does, yet in a way which I did not expect.

Four men, one of which is main character Joe, hangs onto the four corners of the Air balloon basket, the Dad dangling off on the rope. The roaring fire of the Balloon quiets down and makes way for the score to kick softly ebb into the film. The heavy breathing of one of the men accompanies the violins and harps. We see Joe slowly hanging in the air, he wears the face of a man who has just discovered something. Lost in the moment, he gives into his sense of feeling brought on by the weightlessness of flight. He feels like he has just discovered a superpower, yet acknowledges the increasing sense of vulnerability, between himself and his fall. The Director’s powerful metaphor for love. Or what I can only imagine love to feel like.

The man who fell was not lost, yet so assured in his thoughts that given the choice, he would have never let go.

All four men eventually let go, falling to the floor with a heavy landing. They are safe. Grounded, they stand up, looking at the hot air balloon float further off into the distance. The farther of the boy clings on. His love for his son an unfamiliar feeling to the four men who watch from the ground. At first, I thought the reason they all stood still watching because they did not know how to help the situation. Upon further thought however, I realised I was wrong. The men, joined by Joe’s partner who comes back on screen, are lost in the beauty of what they are witnessing. They watch the unfaltering love between a farther and son. A love so pure that it leads to death. The Director choses to highlight the beauty of a man hanging onto the last seconds of his life rather than the overwhelming sense of fear that the audience is expected to experience. This narrative is owed largely to Jeremy Sam’s who composed the score and did an excellent job capturing the duality between sadness and beauty. The man who fell was not lost, yet so assured in his thoughts that given the choice, he would have never let go.

The films opening conjures up so many emotions within the space of five minutes that one simply cannot forget it. Whenever I look at a hot air balloon I will recognise the presence of beauty and danger, something which seems to be underappreciated in our everyday life.

I would very much encourage that you go watch this film. As of the time of this writing it is available to stream on Netflix.