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therealmetaman
Reviews
Scotch and Milk (1998)
Post-collegiate self-indulgence
Goldman attempts a faux film noir that has some nice cinematic details, but the screenplay avoids character development, leaving nothing of substance to chew on. With lines like "What becomes of a poet who cannot write and his muse tired of poetry?," some of this film is hard to take.
Ôdishon (1999)
Without any redemption at all, the plot is left to wallow in its own superficial bloodbath.
"Audition" is a solid exercise in gestural filmmaking -- for most of the film. For the first two-thirds, director Takashi Miike uses a light touch to develop the emotional backbones of his characters. The dialogue is simple and straightforward and the cinematography is restrained. With this minimal narrative structure, the actors have the freedom to shape their own personalities and rapport, allowing the viewer to slowly care about their characters. However, a sudden change in directorial method and an unnecessary reliance on violence to grip the audience capsizes the film in its final stretch.
Aoyama (Ryo Ishibashi) is a middle-aged executive, an upstanding citizen and a widower, and has successfully raised a good son. When he decides to remarry, his television producer friend Yoshikawa (Jun Kunimura) devises a plot: hold a fake casting audition for a fake movie in order to find a young bride. The radio commercials for the open auditions call out to all the young, struggling actresses, saying that they could be "tomorrow's heroine," just like Audrey Hepburn and Julia Roberts. The idolizing of American actresses instead of their Japanese counterparts is telling, as Miike delicately explores the disdain that Japanese men have for Japanese women. Right before Yoshikawa hatches his plan, he looks over at a group of giggling women, saying that they are stuck up and stupid, and adding, "Japan is finished."
The plan is well-intentioned enough -- Aoyama is a caring person who's lonely and looking for someone to love. But of course, it's ultimately a deceitful ploy. And though we can sympathize with Aoyama's plight, it's this deceit that will be his undoing. He finds the girl he's looking for -- an attractive and demure 24-year-old ex-ballerina named Asami (Eihi Shiina) -- and is smitten by her application's essay. In it, she describes how a hip injury destroyed her dreams of being a dancer and because of it, she has accepted death. Aoyama finds her realization to be surprisingly mature, and feels that he has found a kindred spirit.
(WARNING: The text that follows mentions some of the main elements of the film, but does not go into great detail. If you haven't seen the film and would like to save the basic thematic elements and plot points for your own viewing experience, read no further.)
However, it turns out that Asami is not all she says she is. Yoshikawa investigates her story and finds out that many facts she said in the audition were not true. He warns Aoyama of this mysterious girl he barely knows, but it doesn't matter -- Aoyama is a man who is madly in love. Or at the very least, obsessed.
As the film progresses, Aoyama and Asami get to know each other over a few dates. His feelings are seemingly reciprocated and he plans to propose. But things start to unravel as Asami's dark past is slowly revealed. Abused as a child by several people -- most notably her ballet master -- Asami is a broken woman. And it while at first, it seems that she has been lured into Aoyama's trap, it becomes clear that she's the spider and he's the fly.
Miike then suddenly shifts from his unadorned narrative technique into standard-issue surrealism and eventually, after a long, bizarre and often nonsensical montage, the viewer doesn't know what's "real" or imagined. The shift is so abrupt that it seems like the last third of the film is another film altogether. It is during this section that the bloodletting begins.
The violence is the logical result of Aoyama's initial disingenuousness, but it is also the film's undoing. Here, the film's main theme -- a woman's revenge on centuries of male oppression carried out on one sorry sack looking for love -- comes through. But it's dealt with a heavy hand and pretty obvious, especially for a film that takes place within Japanese culture. And while it's a hackneyed theme, the strengths that should have lifted the film into grace -- Miike's initial subtle touch, thoughtful acting, sympathetic characters, a reflection on loneliness and an investigation of Japanese culture -- disintegrate from the sheer weight of the self-indulgent gore. The main horror scene may be one of the most gruesome ever filmed. It makes the film memorable, but in the end, that's the film's only imprint. The ending destroys the film as a love story. The beginning destroys the film as a horror story.
So, what's left when the credits roll? Not much but a foggy mess of half-baked ideas. There's more than enough over-the-top revulsion in modern Japanese culture, from perverted anime to vending machines selling soiled schoolgirls' panties to public signage attempting to alleviate the country's problem with rampant molestation. "Audition" just adds to the heap. And as far as the "tomorrow's heroine" concept is concerned -- the wronged woman getting some kind of vengeance and emerging a champion -- that possibility was missed as well. There's no extolling of an extreme form of feminism here. She was abused, yes, and that explains some kind of motive, but in the end, she's just a psychotic criminal. There's no heroism in that. It's an old conceit: deceit breeds deceit. But without any redemption at all, the plot is left to wallow in its own superficial bloodbath. Sure, it may be all a part of Aoyama's own pathological hallucinations, but nevertheless, the scenes of an avenging woman suggest the retribution of male supremacy.
Miike may get the prize for the year's most grisly sequence -- and for hard-core horror fans, his cold stare at orgiastic sadism will surely be lauded. But in the process, he's missed a great opportunity to make a film that rises above the pack. And so, like the fake film in the story, "Audition" is never given a chance to make it out of the starting gate.
The War Zone (1999)
Too Much Emotional Manipulation, Too Little Real Investigation
War Zone, Tim Roth's 1999 directorial debut, is based on the celebrated novel by Alexander Stuart, which tells a disturbing tale of incest. The film features undeniably powerful performances (by seasoned actors Ray Winstone and Tilda Swinton, and newcomers Lara Belmont and Freddie Cuniff), the dramatic scenery of the windswept Devon countryside, and a perfectly melancholy score by Simon Boswell. However, it lacks the most important element of any piece of art: a raison d'être.
When young Tom (Cuniff) discovers that his father (Winstone) is having sex with his older sister (Belmont), he threatens to tell their mother (Swinton). The story evolves around how this information is played out in their contemporary middle-class British home. The theme of the incest is a difficult one, and certainly one of the most challenging for any director. While Roth's patience with the drama lends the film a mighty edge-of-your-seat experience, he fails in actually delving beneath the surface of the topic's horror. The topic is a complex one, and Roth withholds from any real exploration. He merely presents a family bereft of any emotional connection, and gives none of the characters any true depth. The monster of any incest story is the parent (in this case, the father), but the development of Winstone's character remains too insubstantial to gain any level of understanding from the viewer. He is shown either as a balanced, caring family man, or as a carnal barbarian. In the end, there is no genuine investigation of incest's genesis or ultimate objective.
It is a bold decision to make a movie about incest, but it is ultimately safe, especially for the novice director. There are not many movies concerning the topic, and since the topic is almost always draws profound feeling from people, the topic alone can carry the film. Therefore, the topic itself almost secures Roth's reception as the creator of a great movie. By subject matter alone, there are not many films that are stacked up against "War Zone," so Roth can enjoy being outside the difficult barometer of comparison. On the other hand, if he had chosen a gangster flick, or a movie about a drunken-yet-artistic social misfit, his directorial debut would have to go through the often disappointing process of comparison to so many other, and most likely, better films. While he should receive commendation for taking on such a complex and difficult topic (he has even joined forces with the Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network), that alone does not a good movie make.
Because the subject matter is so disturbing, many viewers will leave the film emotionally distraught. However, they will equate the power of the topic with the power of the film. This effect is a direct result of emotional manipulation on the part of Roth, who seems to know nothing, ultimately, of his film's topic. What we get is the feeling that incest is shocking, deplorable, and tragic. But this we know. What we don't get is why this movie was made in the first place. What is the story of this family, and why should we care? What is it about this man that he could do such a thing? What is it about the daughter who would let this continue? Roth fails to examine any background of his characters, skipping around a thoughtful investigation of the nature of incest. The difficult psychology behind all of this is left by the wayside as Roth breezily lets the strength of the subject matter and the fine acting take us through the flimsy story. It's easy to get applause when dealing with a topic that has engendered so much human sympathy; that's just a cheap device. It's harder to make a story equal the weight of the topic with which it deals. This tale may as well have been about any family dealing with incest. But why this contemporary, middle-class British one? How can their particular story elucidate such a perplexing and alarming topic? The reason that you'll never know the answers is because Roth doesn't know either.