Chungking Express (Wong Kar Wai, 1994)

A personal favourite film, Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love is a romantic, sensual masterpiece of filmmaking. Chungking Express, released six years prior, still holds the sensitivity and patience of In the Mood for Love but enjoys a more playful, youthful tone. Both are playing at the BFI Southbank as part of the 'A Century of Chinese Cinema' season throughout September and October.  Chungking Express frames its dual narratives within the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong (many scenes based around the same ‘Midnight Express’ food-stall) whereby the innocent stories of love and criminals on a killing spree seem to merge into the business of life. Chungking Express is a set of moody, tender stories that show that behind the stern exterior of the men of the law is broken hearts and humanity that we can all relate understand.

Two stories are connected by a brief second. The first story follows off-duty cop, He Qiwu (Takeshi Kaneshiro) as he pines after his lost love May. He is desperate to move on and fall in love with another woman, and after a night of pineapple-eating, he meets the woman to adore (played by Brigitte Lin). Unfortunately for him, she is a drug-smuggler who is in hiding after killing off street gang-members after a drug-operation goes south. The second story portrays the romance between an unnamed cop (Tony Leung) and a snack bar worker, Faye (Faye Wong). Cop 663 has seen his steamy relationship with an air-hostess hit the skids, and takes comfort in the coffee and conversation with Faye - only for her to use a key his ex has left behind, to tidy and fool around in his flat. The first story, of a klutz falling for a dangerous, gun-toting dame, plays as an action-come comedy-come-romance while the second story is a twee love-story with friendly, quirky characters.

The connection between the stories is minimal. They both include lonely lovelorn policemen, while the women could not be more different. The use of uniform in the second story is constantly reinforced, whereby the profession of the characters in the first story is never specified by their outfits (in fact, the mysterious woman is almost in disguise as she claims her raincoat and sunglasses combo is due to her cautiousness about the weather, while his desire to imitate Bruce Willis hints at his inability to serve and protect).

The shuddering camera work captures the city effortlessly. We squint and look closer to make out who is on screen and how the events unfold, similar to the experience of trying to take in a busy street at night. Neon-lights and crampt spaces are a feature of Wong Kar Wai, as bodies struggle to move around each other. Strange obsessions and recurring pop-tracks add nuance to characters and almost create a hypnotic and dreamlike world that is a pleasure to be within. Sardines, pineapples and the Mama’s and Papa’s California Dreamin’ become unique, memorable assets to a film that in the characters alone, you are drawn in.

Pom Poko (Isao Takahata, 1994)

"Testicles play an important role in tanuki mythology” writes Colin Odell and Michelle Le Blanc when discussing Pom Poko. Directed by Isao Takahata, this is a far call from the deeply serious war story of Grave of the Fireflies. Rather than humans, Pom Poko tackles morphing racoons. These creatures, along with foxes and cats, have a long history in Japan whereby they’re playful, mischievous transformations is merely one trick, alongside their ability to expand their balls into enormous parachutes or rugs to sit upon. Studio Ghibli always manages to inform us of the fascinating stories embedded in Japanese culture – but, until a tanuki (the accurate name for these magical racoons) reveals that his entire tanuki-class is sitting on an outstretched scrotum, you never realise how culturally different it truly is.

That’s not to say that this is a problem as Pom Poko is a joyous celebration of nature and life. Introducing two tribes of racoon’s as they fight each other for territory, the tanuki realise their true enemy is man as Tokyo’s outskirts are expanding the city limits, decimating the area known as Tama Hills. The racoon’s feverishly try tactics to scare off the construction workers – from creating ghost-like apparitions and parades through to perfecting their morphing technique to become human. Despite these efforts, the expansion continues and esteemed Masters, and non-morphing tanuki, die in the attempt at holding them back. The final moments are undercut as they change their way of life – tanuki scavenge for food in waste bins while others, who transform into humans, desperately reminisce of the time that once existed whereby forest, lakes and green, green grass was all that dominated the Tama Hills.

Pom Poko manages to tell its ecological tale in no uncertain terms. Humans are destroying the landscape irreversibly. Released in 1994, it seems to tell a similar tale to BBC’s Animals of Farthing Wood, a TV-series running briefly between 1993 and 1995. The dangers of busy roads, in both animations, is a tale often told. As I recall, the Farthing Wood creatures were escaping the industrial deconstruction of their natural habitat – and this is the same conflict that forces tanuki to fight humans. But Pom Poko has a mysterious, yet plucky tone that seems to make light of the earnest tale it tells. The multiple characterisations of the tanuki is deftly edited and effortlessly realised. Considering the characters change between five different forms, each tanuki has specific characteristics that are clearly realised. When we meet a sneaky, money-driven human it becomes apparent that he too is kitsune (a transforming fox) and this is clear from his animated human features from the outset.

This charming tale has only heightened my appreciation of Studio Ghibli. In the final moments of Pom Poko we see what the tanuki want to create – and it’s not a world without humans. It is furosato (meaning ‘homeland’) whereby humans live alongside the tanuki. Small, but comfortable houses and clearly marked water pockets surrounded by lush, overgrown forest and plants. It is beautiful, and it’s not the first time that Studio Ghibli has made me wonder what a world would be like with more time aside for wildlife. The two girls running free to find a spirit in My Neighbour Totoro. The two children on the beach, even for a moment, in Grave of the Fireflies to take their mind of the horrors of war.

Spinning his tail, *poof*, Mario would transform into tanuki in Super Mario Bros 3 – and this was my first introduction to the term. Now, Pom Poko has told me how tanuki represent so much more.

This post was originally written for Flickering Myth on 14th May 2014

Shallow Grave (Danny Boyle, 1994)

"If you can't trust your friends, well, what then... What then?... Oh, yes. I believe in friends. I believe we need them."

Introduction

Well ... this is a strange film. Stranger than I expected. As mentioned on this weeks podcast, I am a big Danny Boyle fan. Any film of his I shall watch opening weekend - few directors get the same respect from me. Nevertheless, this film I have been holding back on. I have watched all his other films (even the lesser known Strumpet ... but not Alien Love Triangle...). So, because this film was the directorial-debut starring Dr Who and a Jedi I thought I'd save it for a special occasion. Interestingly, it was when I swapped a few DVD's I saw this on Bluray and thought, well, who knows ... nows the time to see the film that I have held back from for a long while ...

What I reckon... [Nb: I'm getting a bored with 'what I reckon' as-the-title tag - any advice on changes?]

The film begins as three flat mates - journalist Alex (McGregor), doctor Juliet (Fox) and accountant David (Eccleston). Alex is incredibly annoying - constantly talking as Juliet, pretty much, keeps him going. Much to the disappointment of David. The film begins with a type-of overview of friendship and what friendship is to these characters. And I wouldn't be suprised if the writer thought "right, how can I get three best friends want to literally kill each other in a short space of time as an entertaining movie?". The three flat mates need to interview a bunch of people who could potentially be their flat mate - becoming very nasty in the process. One ginger-lad called Cameron is completely offended as they claim 'why would we want to live with some like you'?. Its pretty harsh and, as you think they are all smug wankers, the joke is on them. But thats who they are, so you can't fault the actors playing such roles to a T. So, eventually, Juliet interviews a man separately and, they look like they are hittingit off - especially as she makes clear she is single by telling him to tell her ex-boyfriend on the phone to sod off. This new guy goes into his bedroom, locks the door and - before you know it - he's dead (in a pose remarkably similar to Henry Wallis' Chatterton in his 1856 painting The Death of Chatterton). They find his body and are all a little ... 'weirded out'. Not in shock (well, David says "I've never seen a dead body before" in stunned awe) really - Alex is rooting through his stuff and Juliet practially covers the naked dead man and then calls the ambo. Then they find a suitcase full of money. In shots that are used again in Millions they are unsure what to do - wanting to keep the money. They dispose of the money, with David pulling the short straw and having to chop up the body. The whole film becomes this horror-movie - with David going more and more mental while Alex spends money and the people who are owed the money begin to close in on the flat.

Its a bit strange because it destroys every ounce of good in each character - but they are a bit annoying anyway - but they become completely destroyed over the film. The first act sets all this up with chopping up the body finishing this section, the 'centre piece' is each character getting more a more confused (except Alex who just watches daytime TV and doesn't really give a shit) - David goes completely insane and begins to become a peeping-Norman Bates character. I reckon Psycho was an influence because, alongside the peeping holes thing, there is a shot which looks just like the Janet Leigh shot after the camera zooms out from the eye in the bathroom, post murder.



The film finishes as they are all content with killing each other/calling the cops and giving each other up. But then again, any murder/chopping up is going to screw you up. I don't think thats about friendship - more about sanity and state of mind. Even the flat seems quite unique - and a character unto itself. Pastelly colours - stange paintings hung on the walls looking down on them. The red phone. Making the flat seem quite a spacious place - and possibly separating all the characters further. We first them close together on a sofa at the start and, as the film progresses they get further and further away from each other.

The them itself is prevalent in lots of Dany Boyle's movie. On a purely practial level with whole 'Bag of money' theme, we see it again in Millions and, to some extent, it is a bag of money that gives Renton the opportunity to escape in Trainspotting (Also, a weird baby thing is in Shallow Grave too...). Taking the idea further and considering the notion of greed, and wanting something that isn't actually yours - McGregor tries to rob the business of Cameron Diazs' father in A Life Less Ordinary while Slumdog Millionnaire has this Millionnaire program at the centre of it - though this is not the motive of the lead character.

To close, unlike Slumdog this is not a love story. It is about how much money is worth - and the cost. In a world of celebrity culture, this shows - back in 1994 - these issues as they began. What people do for money - and how far people go for money? Apparently, in the early days of filmmaking - or any business (think about the beginning story of Facebook), everyone is friends and only when the big bucks start coming in do friendships change. This is interesting, as clearly that entire situation is played out here over the space of a few weeks. An interesting double-bill would be with No Country for Old Men with the one guy, finding a suitcase full of money. I didn't love the film as much as I thought I would - maybe my expectations was too high, but I can see how - even at this stage - Danny Boyle was a force to be reckoned with. Some interesting shots: the beating at the cashpoint from the perspective of the cash machine and the shots looking up the staircase with the fast-paced road travelling at the start shows a unique, exciting perspective that soon enough inspired many movies to come. Moreso with Trainspotting but still, the signs were there with Shallow Grave.