Showing posts with label Sion Sono. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sion Sono. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

"Be determined: Wear a kimono." Sion Sono's back with WHY DON'T YOU PLAY IN HELL?


What could there possibly be in common among a pair of dueling Yakuza gangs, a popular toothpaste commercial, budding filmmakers (including the new Bruce Lee), young kids in love and a wronged wife now in prison for wiping out nearly the entire membership of one of those gangs? A movie, of course! Two of them, actually: one is the film within the film, which those budding movie-makers desperately want to create; the other is the movie under consideration here: Sion Sono's latest -- the amazing, movie-loving, crazy, riotously funny, looney-tuneish and eventually about as bloody and gory as anything you've encountered in a long while, WHY DON'T YOU PLAY IN HELL?

Sion Sono (being naughty, at left) is the fellow who has given us some really transgressive, weird and shudder-producing movies that go places that no one else's films do: Suicide Club, Cold Fish, Love Exposure, to name but three that are very much worth seeing. Yet here, in this new one, Sono seems to be having such a delightful and delighted time of it that wise-ass humor, coupled to the beyond-anything love of movies, combines to make this one of the most fun films he's ever overseen. And, yes, he still manages to toss in some of the most so-gory-they're-funny special effects (that arise perfectly from the bizarre situations at hand) so that his movie will still raise eyebrows and blood pressure.

From its opening -- which combines that toothpaste commerical sung by a too-cute-for-words little girl to the introduction of our budding filmaker's crew to the adulterous Yakuza (above) and his born-for-action wife -- to the sudden moment when we get... the red floor, you'll know that this, my friends, is like no other floor you've seen in cinema: a keeper, for sure.

Then it's ten years later, but just about everything's the same, except for age. Our little toothpaste tyke is now a va-voomly sexy teenager (above, center), our budding filmmakers are still budding, and the obsession for the toothpaste girl by one of the Yakuza has grown to whopping proportions. This guy (below, right) is rather sweet but not too bright and very easily influenced. (The "determined/kimono" phrase in the headline is all due to his somewhat addled brain.)

The plot strands planted in the beginning all come to wonderful fruition as the story continues, becoming soon enough a one-of-a-kind love letter to the movies. But being from Sono, this love letter also offers severed limbs, spraying blood and flying heads (and oodles of movie references).

The performances are as wonderfuly over-the-top as is the rest of the undertaking. Literally every actor stands out as special, as the plot gyrations become funnier and more bizarre. (When you're having this much fun, it's sort of difficult to be truly transgressive, I think.)

Sono's point must be, among other things, how filmmakers will do fucking anything to get their movie made, which sort of goes with the "artistic" and maybe "commercial" and certainly "juvenile" temperament. (Shades of the recent Midnight Rider situation may come to mind.)

Though the movie seems to start rather slowly (particularly if you're waiting for those heavy-duty Sion transgressions), hold on, because soon enough you'll be so taken with the way the filmmaker brings all his threads together that you won't mind at all.

Why Don't You Play in Hell?, the perfect title for a romp like this, runs a slightly too long 121 minutes (once he gets started, Sono can't resist piling it on) and is being released via Drafthouse Films. It hits theaters this Friday, November 7 -- here in NYC at the IFC Center and in Austin at the Drafthouse South Lamar. (The IFC Center does not appear to be giving it very many showings, however, so do check the schedule before rushing off to see it.) In the weeks to come it will open in another nine cities (but not L.A.? No fair! This one should play at the Arena Cinema). Click here then scroll down to see all currently scheduled playdates, cities & theaters.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

COLD FISH? Whew! Sion Sono's can't-look-away tale tops his earlier transgressions

Well, TrustMovies should say that Sion Sono's COLD FISH tops -- only in some ways -- his earlier transgressions. The three I have so far seen are Suicide Club (still my favorite), Noriko's Dinner Table and Hazard(I wonder when we will have a release of what is generally considered his best film, Love Exposure?). In Suicide Club, what looks like a ghastly mystery keeps opening up into things more horrible and even more mysterious -- to which there are finally no answers. With Cold Fish what's happening is much plainer, more easily seen and understood, though no less horrible. Yet here the mystery focuses in ever more tightly until it centers on the inscrutability of a single human soul. Who is this father/husband/man? What might he -- and, by extension, Japan and finally the world -- become?

Based on true events, as the movie none too subtly tells us upfront, the tale Mr. Sion (shown at right) tells begins in the supermarket, as mom shops, fast and hard. She then prepares supper, ripping open packages and shoving them in the microwave, which dad and daughter soon eat in a silence broken only by a call from the girl's cell phone, after which she sprints out and away with her bottle-blond boyfriend.

In the following scene, what she has appears to have sprinted away to was a bout of shoplifting, and now the parents -- it's actually dad and step-mom, as we soon learn -- are having to make those very Japanese bows and pleas so that the police will not be called. Ah, but in steps the kindly man who, with his wife, owns a local tropical fish store, and who first reported the shoplifting. He invites the family (coincidentally, Dad owns another, not-nearly-so-successful fish store) to visit his shop, where they are dutifully impressed. Then this impressario suggests hiring the daughter as part of his staff (above). As this nuclear family's home life is anything but swell (see below), all three agree.

Too good to be true? As we should now know -- from other movies, if not from real life -- when something looks too good to be true, it generally is. Just how bad it is, however, is made clear unhurrieldy during this nearly two-and-one-half-hour movie that is never for a moment less than interesting, and often hits a ten on the scale of creep/shock/no!no!no!

The movie is highly sexual, too, but in ways you might not initially imagine. It is even more highly violent and bloody. I am not usually a fan of such films, but there is much more than mere gore going on here. And one of the reasons why it is difficult to look away and certainly impossible to walk out of Cold Fish are the knockout performances from the five-star ensemble, especially those of the two leading men and particulary that of an actor who goes by the name of Denden and plays the "fish" impressario, Yukio Murata (shown in that racy red car, above). Said to be seen most often in the role of the kindly/funny uncle, this fellow is a revelation as a character you just might call Mr. Capitalism, but taken to an extreme rarely seen. Denden is by turns funny, scary, shocking and sensible in ways you won't even have considered. Yet he's always somehow real -- which makes him even scarier.

Murata's foil is the "nice" fish fellow Syamoto, played by Mitsuru Fukikoshi (above), as the worm who may never actually turn, and he, too, gives a fine performance. As the women in each man's life, Asuka Kurosawa (below) proves a randy/dandy foil as Murata's wife, while Megumi Kagurazaka (two photos below) as Syamoto's wife, though with a less showy role, still fills it out quite well. (She is, in the parlance, "stacked," and the movie certainly makes the most of this.)

There is simply no point in going into the various plot twists and turns, as any telling of same unaccompanied by Mr Sion's spectacular visual sense would sound ridiculous. (Even with those visuals, it seems crazy, but I dare you to look away.)

What is this movie trying to tell us?  Has it any message beyond shock and awe (and gore)? I think so. Parenting is up front. But so is nihilism. And what an odd and corrosive match this makes. With a focus so narrowly drawn, it is difficult to form conclusions about Japanese society at large. Once again, as in so many Asian movies, the police -- aka government -- prove ineffectual. But then, so do the crime boss and his men, the Yakuza, whom we briefly see. Nothing is a match for the combination of power, paranoia, smarts and strike-first mentality on view in the person of Mr. Murata.

Interestingly enough, Cold Fish was supposed to have been part of the ongoing AMC/Bloody Disgusting/The Collective "Night Terrors" series this past month. But due, I surmise, to the fact that the film is still un-rated (were it to be submitted to our ratings board, it would certainly receive an NC-17), instead of appearing at AMC theaters this time, the film will appear at various... well, you might call them more underground sites -- like Brooklyn's reRun Gastropub theater, here in New York, where the movie opens on Friday, August 5 -- in a rather severely curtailed theatrical run. Like the other films in the series however, it has been promised to be made available eventually via streaming and/or DVD. (You can check out here the other four cities where you can see the movie.)  This curtailing is a shame, really, because Cold Fish is by far the best of the four Night Terrors films yet screened. Despite its gore-quotient, it's closer to crazy art than to sleazy exploitation.