I am a Takashi Miike fanboy, and to some, that means that I currently reside in Miike-san's anus, perineum, and scrotum. Having lived in that dark place for quite a while now by having viewed approximately fifty of his approximately eighty films, I cannot dispute that I am a geeky Miike fanboy. I'm so geeky that I own Tom Mes's excellent and aptly-titled Agitator: The Cinema of Takashi Miike. If I were a good writer, then Mes's writing would still far exceed my own (I recommend his book to all); however, as another introduction, I would like to quote fully Agitator's afterword by transgressive and experimental fellow-film maker Shinya Tsukamoto: Many actors hope to one day participate in a Takashi Miike film. Especially guys. They want to go back to being naughty boys and go wild. Miike lets them indulge themselves in this fantasy freely and knows exactly how to provoke them. And once provoked, the actors--bombard each other with their energy, lifting the film up and spinning it off into higher orbit.
I was also one of those guys who were allowed to indulge themselves. It was a very joyful experience.
Fierce. Nonsensical. Vulgar. Powerful. These are words that could be used to describe Takashi Miike. But without doubt the most essential words are self-assured and clever.
Tsukamoto was a pivotal participant in Miike's excellent and representative Ichi the Killer (2003). While I cannot claim to be a literal participant, like Tsukamoto, in Miike's madness, I can say I do in spirit. No other film maker truly represents more what I most admire in art: a court-jester-like playfulness with one eye that winks with a smile and a closed eye, hiding an inherent darkness, which occasionally, and often also playfully, reveals itself. Miike is the true agitator: most cinefiles find his cinema boring, excruciating, and inconsistent. He doesn't fit neatly into any auteur theory (of his nearly eighty films, he has contributed/written only two), and for this quality, Miike gets all of my love. As he continues to piss people off, I will continue to watch his films. 
I had the opportunity recently to view Detective Story (2007). "What's up with the wig?" asks my baby brother, while sitting next to me. "I have no idea, bro," says I. The wig belongs to private detective Raita Kazama and it is his sole disguise to offset his flamboyant, vintage- clothing outfit. He's on the trail of a serial killer, one who is stealing vital organs from his victims. One of those victims was a pretty lady, who visited Kazama one evening, very late. Kazama was getting drunk at his new next-door neighbor's, also named Raita, and Kazama couldn't be bothered. She's killed walking home. The police are suspicious of Kazama, because of the victim's final visit was at his home and near the next victim, Kazama's ballpoint pen is found. Kazama has no choice but to solve the mystery. Maybe the Gothic artist with a spiritual bent, named Yuki Aoyama, has something to do with the killings. 
That's a bare-bones preview to Miike's Detective Story, and the mystery does conclude, predictably and unexpectedly. Along the way, however, Miike is going to play a bit. In a couple of subtle scenes (I picked them out during a second viewing), a female figure is seen in the background, seemingly following Kazama during his investigation. Ghost of Kazama's visiting victim? I don't know: the motif is never fully developed or explained. Late in the investigation, Kazama goes to visit a serial killer, one whom Kazama arrested from his police-officer past. "You're here to gain knowledge about the current serial killer?" Sound familiar? Although his hands are bound and his mouth is obstructed, can you tell that he still loves his McDonald's Extra Value Meal?
Miike also litters Detective Story with images from a peeping tom, looking at photos on his computer. The peeping tom is a textbook collateral character and standout red herring; and he has no other link to story but maybe to provide nudity in the film. Raita, meanwhile, meets pretty and leggy Mika at Kazama's office. Raita takes her to an art showing of Yuki Aoyama's recent work. Scared that she's running out on him, Raita asks, "Where are you going?" "To the bathroom," says Mika. Short pause to close-up on Mika's feet, where a stream of urine is running down her leg. She smiles and says she couldn't wait. While she is washing her skirt and her panties in the bathroom, she discovers one of the killer's victims. How fortuitous. Detective Story is a mystery with a linear storyline, a narrative arc, and a satisfying climax. Very traditional. Traditional, however, is just not Miike's way. All of the ridiculous flourishes are distractions from the main narrative, but the distractions are what this film is all about. It's what Miike's cinema is all about. 
Is it fantastic? Is it boring? Is it ground-breaking? Is it a retread? Buy it here. In fact, buy a bunch of Miike's movies. I imagine if Takashi Miike were able to witness your purchase, then he would have a smile on his face. Whether the smile comes from his happiness that you bought his movies or he just played a big joke on you is entirely unknown.
I had the opportunity recently to view Detective Story (2007). "What's up with the wig?" asks my baby brother, while sitting next to me. "I have no idea, bro," says I. The wig belongs to private detective Raita Kazama and it is his sole disguise to offset his flamboyant, vintage- clothing outfit. He's on the trail of a serial killer, one who is stealing vital organs from his victims. One of those victims was a pretty lady, who visited Kazama one evening, very late. Kazama was getting drunk at his new next-door neighbor's, also named Raita, and Kazama couldn't be bothered. She's killed walking home. The police are suspicious of Kazama, because of the victim's final visit was at his home and near the next victim, Kazama's ballpoint pen is found. Kazama has no choice but to solve the mystery. Maybe the Gothic artist with a spiritual bent, named Yuki Aoyama, has something to do with the killings. That's a bare-bones preview to Miike's Detective Story, and the mystery does conclude, predictably and unexpectedly. Along the way, however, Miike is going to play a bit. In a couple of subtle scenes (I picked them out during a second viewing), a female figure is seen in the background, seemingly following Kazama during his investigation. Ghost of Kazama's visiting victim? I don't know: the motif is never fully developed or explained. Late in the investigation, Kazama goes to visit a serial killer, one whom Kazama arrested from his police-officer past. "You're here to gain knowledge about the current serial killer?" Sound familiar? Although his hands are bound and his mouth is obstructed, can you tell that he still loves his McDonald's Extra Value Meal?Miike also litters Detective Story with images from a peeping tom, looking at photos on his computer. The peeping tom is a textbook collateral character and standout red herring; and he has no other link to story but maybe to provide nudity in the film. Raita, meanwhile, meets pretty and leggy Mika at Kazama's office. Raita takes her to an art showing of Yuki Aoyama's recent work. Scared that she's running out on him, Raita asks, "Where are you going?" "To the bathroom," says Mika. Short pause to close-up on Mika's feet, where a stream of urine is running down her leg. She smiles and says she couldn't wait. While she is washing her skirt and her panties in the bathroom, she discovers one of the killer's victims. How fortuitous. Detective Story is a mystery with a linear storyline, a narrative arc, and a satisfying climax. Very traditional. Traditional, however, is just not Miike's way. All of the ridiculous flourishes are distractions from the main narrative, but the distractions are what this film is all about. It's what Miike's cinema is all about. Is it fantastic? Is it boring? Is it ground-breaking? Is it a retread? Buy it here. In fact, buy a bunch of Miike's movies. I imagine if Takashi Miike were able to witness your purchase, then he would have a smile on his face. Whether the smile comes from his happiness that you bought his movies or he just played a big joke on you is entirely unknown. 
flashback to children and dead older man with cut open stomach, old man was stabbed flashback of young boy lying in bed with mother and talking about other children being scared of him
shot of boy and palms while sleeping
old dude acted as if he knew him sasha gets rid of body his biological father flashback shows sasha and moms dumping body in river
cops find dads corpse at house on the trail now whats up with that
bellas pissed at klim that sasha got away
the two immediately start fucking
go to freaky deaky party ladys artistic type some guy hits on her and shaha gets mad jealous and beings talking to him whats up with that dont know whats up
katya is in hospital so is priest
this movie is like a poem some very beautiful music and cinematography
Kinji Fukasaku delivered at the dawn of the new millennium, capping off a brilliant career, delivering some of the best Japanese yakuza films this world has ever seen in the 70s, his perverse, stylish, and controversial Battle Royale (2000). In a lot of ways, Battle Royale is a perfect film: both culturally relevant in its contemporary time, beyond Japan, and also amazingly nuts and crazy to be enjoyable and horrifying to the curious genre fan. I hold the film in high regard and its novel by Koushun Takami. Kinji Fukasaku's son, Kenta Fukasaku, is credited with the excellent screenplay. The elder Fukasaku would slough off his mortal coil before finishing Battle Royale II (2003) with Kenta sharing a co-directorial credit and surviving with the final film. Battle Royale II is a phenomenally awful film and a complete disaster. Perhaps unfairly, I believed the elder Fukasaku's contribution could not be the fault of the film, so the majority of the disdain I lumped upon the younger director. I did little research on the film's production and do not know where fault lies in the sequel. I unfairly wrote off Kenta as no Kinji and quickly put Battle Royale II out of my mind and included a small note to ignore any future subsequent film from Kenta Fukasaku. I have since changed my opinion towards Cinematic children and decided when the recent opportunity presented itself to view Kenta Fukasaku's X-Cross. 
Upon returning from her bath, Shiyori finds a white cell phone ringing in her closet at her hotel room. She answers it and a frantic male voice tells her to leave immediately. "They're coming and they're going to cut off your leg." The male caller believes Shiyori is his sister, but Shiyori corrects him. There's no sister, just her phone. The male caller reveals that he's a professor at a university who studies local folklore. The town is full of crazies: a long time ago, there was a shortage of women in the village. In order to keep the females around, the villagers decided to cut off the left leg of each woman. This tradition has survived into present day. Shiyori flips and the lights go out and a bunch of faces can be seen through her window.
Aiko has an encounter in the hotel's public bathroom. The eye-patched woman from earlier confronts her, donning an outfit which is a cross between a traditional French Maid's uniform and a China doll. She has two pairs of large scissors in her hand. Why is she attacking Aiko? Apparently, Aiko stole her boyfriend away with a one-night stand. Aiko cannot even remember the guy. Aiko escapes the public bathroom only to get caught in a portable one, and Aiko and the Scissor Lady have a battle: Aiko with a chainsaw and the Scissor Lady with a massive pair of scissors, far larger than any garden shears. 
Keep in mind, X-Cross is a low-budget horror film, pure and simple. Motifs can become gimmicks; what's effective can be tired; and the intriguing becomes sometimes boring, depending on what kind of mood you're in. I apparently was in a ranty mood for this entry, and Battle Royale II is still an awful film. However, Kenta Fukasaku shows promise with X-Cross and I will certainly see his future films.
Ángela (
Ángela is a university student working on her thesis about "audiovisual violence." "Why would you pick such a subject," asks Professor Figueroa (
What's so extreme? Film geek and genre fan, who especially loves the hard stuff, Chema (
Truth be told, Ángela is more obsessively curious about the dark side of life than anything else. She has an abnormally yet sweet stable home life: married and happy parents, a cute and bubbly sister, and a nice home (for which she gets extra kudos for having a 
Amenábar drafts and executes quite the mystery with Thesis. Although there are only a handful of suspects to the mystery, Amenábar provides enough twists and turns to make it interesting, and the conclusion is pretty satisfying. Along the way, throughout Thesis, Amenábar drops in the background his cultural criticism towards the media and our obsession with media violence (in all its forms, news, films, etc.). None of the criticism is trite or preachy. One professor expounds to his film students about why the American film industry is so far ahead of the Spanish industry: it's because it gives the audience, above all, what it wants. Is that what cinema, from anywhere, supposed to provide? Amenábar poses the question without a fixed answer. Appropriately, Amenábar shoots Thesis at its modern university in present-day Spain in clinical white light (as did Dario Argento in Tenebre (1982)) with the visual flares and atmospherics saved for the suspenseful moments. Later fanciful films would come from Amenábar, but Thesis shows a real flair for the classical. 
While I am eagerly awaiting Agora (2009), Thesis really should be viewed by fans of Alejandro Amenábar and those who like a good mystery.
Previous to Erik and Knut joining their Russian compatriots to complete the border marking, the pair stopped with a local family, a father and his teenage daughter. One evening, Erik notices that a shelf looks recently emptied, as if the father and the daughter are hiding something. Erik confronts the father and forces him to show the wares. In a cellar, there is a stockpile of rations. Erik pulls the father back to the cabin, while Knut stays below with the young daughter. Knut makes an attempt to kiss the young lady, but in fear, she covers her face and cowers. Knut locks the girl in the cellar and finds Erik having murdered the father. Erik claims it was self-defense. (Semensky later says to Erik, who dons glasses for his poor eyesight, that although his glasses give him the air of civility, they do not hide his eyes which miss the war and the opportunity to continue violent acts.) Knut says nothing upon finding his brother having bloodily killed the man, as Erik mutters only the words, "seventy-three." Knut tells his brother that he's locked the girl in the cellar, and Erik says that he will let her out.
After meeting with the Russians, Erik and Knut begin their long journey towards the North. Knut sees at several intervals what looks like a young woman in the distance, and eventually, Knut tells Erik that he believes the young girl from the cellar is following them. Erik shocks Knut with his revelation: he never let her out. Knut says that they must go back, but Erik vehemently disagrees: they must trudge forward and complete this task for the crown. Knut is quite wrecked with guilt for the girl's trapping; however, he hides a deeper guilt (that Erik is able to later pull out of him) about the girl. The five come upon a swamp. Semensky says lets go around it and split the middle of the swamp with the border. Erik, characteristically and hostilely, disagrees: give the whole of the swamp to Sweden or trek forward. As they move through the swamp, the party spies an sauna eerily out of the blue and come into the neighboring village. The village has seventy-three residents, only one of whom is a child, and are all unnaturally clean.
Antti-Jussi Annila's Sauna is a gorgeous-looking film and really represents how technology can be used well with cinema. Only with the new-finagled cameras can the lines in Semensky's and Erik's face be captured: just by looking at the detail on their skin can the viewer tell that these gentlemen have seen very hard times. The titular sauna looks oddly clinical yet tainted, as the mold and mildew is around the dark opening. The dying vegetation and the cold weather are not just shown in glorious detail, but the detail is so overwhelming that the viewer can almost feel it. Cinematography aside, Sauna presents a dense and maybe esoteric theme of seemingly redemption and cleansing, tied to the titular sauna. What is certain, however, are the stellar performances by Ville Virtanen and Tommi Eronen, as Erik and Knut, respectively, two very complex characters. Their fraternal relationship is so genuine, and despite the often totally bleak nature of the film, their love never wavers. Virtanen and Eronen give very emotional and sometimes vulnerable performances, which alone make Sauna worth viewing. 
The David Lynch-like mystery involving the sauna and the nearby village is intriguing. I sat through the film twice before blogging: once as a passive viewer and the second more critical and sensitive, attempting to link the the themes and pick up clues. I do not believe I was wholly successful but I will certainly revisit Sauna again. Sauna is above all a very disorienting film: sometimes real-world-like harsh violence combined with darkly ethereal and creepy imagery and elements. A tight and focused film, densely-packed, richly-detailed, and a curious gem.
Twenty years prior in the Kamchanod forest, there was an outdoor screening, and at the start of the screening, there was no audience. However, as the night drew on, the film spooled or broke, and to a white screen, an audience appeared out of the forest. Myth or real, paranormal or coincidence, young Dr. Yut wants to find out with an experiment to recreate the screening ("Is there an overlap between this world and the next?") but is missing the actual film. With the help of a couple, Ji and Pun, who are also reporters, Roj, the lonely, drug-addicted assistant to a shopkeeper, and Yut's girlfriend, Aon, who has about had it with this life, Yut begins to assemble the clues and learn the location of the film. Through the network of projectionists, Yut and his cohorts learn that the film's original projectionists were Pradrab, whose whereabouts are unknown, and Chin, who's at a local hospital, unresponsive and nearly vegetative. Chin has a bandaged fist, and when Chin refuses to talk to Yut about the screening, Yut decided to cut the bandages from his hand revealing a small trinket. Chin flips out and begins to see things. Yut promises to give it back, if Chin reveals the location of the film. Pradrab has it, says Chin, and as Roj arrives to deliver Yut some documents, almost fortuitously, Roj tells Yut that there's an abandoned movie theatre. The theatre has been abandoned for years and the projectionist, Pradrab, was famous for screening movies for ghosts. One evening, he locked himself inside his booth with the intention of burning the film, but rumor has it, that the ghosts killed him to save the film. When Yut's crew of five arrive, they will be the first folks to visit the theatre since the last screening. 
Needless to say, they find the film and screen it (its images are Kamchanod forest?), and The Screen At Kamchanod takes on the feeling of the world ending not with a bang but a whimper. Evocative of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's masterful Kairo (2001), the answer to Yut's original question ("Is there an overlap between this world and the next?") comes much sooner than the film's ending (where the original screening is replicated). "Have you noticed," asks Aon to Yut, "that we are seeing fewer living people and more ghosts?" Yut believes seeing ghosts everyday is normal; however, it's taking quite the toll on the others. Pun breaks down from her encounters and Ji begins breaking down, because the woman he loves is breaking down. Roj starts sleeping on the roof and begins using more, since the dope is better up in his head than the ghosts. Aon, who was first glimpsed by the viewer in nearly a trance and wanting to kill herself, wanders throughout the whole film. She's haunted by not just the other-worldly but by the real world, which isn't such a happy and safe place to begin with. 
While Mongkolthong attempts to provide the bang to the wonderful whimper of The Screen At Kamchanod with the ending, although clever and intriguing, the real attraction of the film is not the investigative mystery behind the original screening but the film's bulk in the middle. Aon, portrayed by beautiful Pakkramai Potranan, and Roj (
Finally, it should be mentioned, since this is a horror movie, the creepy ghost imagery runs the gamut from ineffective to effectively creepy. I really enjoyed just watching these five characters fill Screen with their supernatural encounters. Mongkolthong creates some beautiful set pieces, such as the scene in the movie theatre when the crew views the film. The ending, although a little over-dramatic, is quite effective and creepy in its own way. I love the photography and the look of Thailand in the film: some gorgeous imagery with the colors of brown and grey, alongside weathered concrete temples, the nearly ancient-looking movie theatre, and wonderful glimpses of a quiet city (mostly populated by ghosts). 
The Screen At Kamchanod is a film likely to alienate horror fans and kind of float away into obscurity. Also kind of appropriate for a film about the dangers of crossing over into unknown worlds, don't you think?
What follows in Eko Eko Azarak: Wizard of Darkness is a little Harry Potter, some Nancy Drew, and a tinge of Degrassi High, with a lesser budget, some steamy sex, and a healthy dose of bloody violence: a perfect potion for cinematic exploitation. There's the jock, Shindo, who's immediately enamored when he first glimpses Misa. There's also the poseur, Mizuno, who likes the attention he receives, because he's into magic. Mizuno does reveal that the rash of recent murders all have taken place geographically in the shape of a pentagram with the school in the center; however, when he tries cast a spell for Kazumi on the roving-handed Mr. Kumata, he's upstaged by Misa. Mizuno becomes jealous of Misa's genuine talent and he attempts to turn her classmates against her. Kurahashi is Misa's doting new friend, who Misa ends up saving after someone sinister casts a spell upon her. Mr. Kumata ends up dying, and Mizuno's plan of turning Misa's classmates against her nearly comes to fruition, as all eyes fall on Misa as the cause for not just Kumata's death but all the mysterious occult deaths occurring around Tokyo. One evening, while all the students are summoned after school to take a math test by Ms. Shirai, they are all going to need Misa's help as they get locked into the school with the number "13" written on the board (and the Satanic shenanigans begin). Oh, and by the way, to spice up this mix, Ms. Shirai is sleeping with Kazumi. They like to do it in an empty classroom and provide Eko Eko Azarak with its steamy lesbian sex scenes. 
