MABOROSI: Early, much-loved movie from Hirokazu Kore-eda gets Blu-ray/DVD debut

I first encountered the work of Japanese filmmaker Hirokazu Kore-eda (shown below) via his marvelous After Life, a bizarre, philosophic and enchantingly original riff on the post-death experience. Since then I've seen each of his subsequent films (those released here in the USA, at least) and enjoyed every one of them. Yet the movie that brought him to international attention -- MABOROSI, his first narrative film released in 1995, three years prior to After Life -- I am only now catching up with, due to its at last getting a Blu-ray/DVD release, thanks to Milestone Films.

The film is worth the wait. Not surprisingly Maborosi, which refers to a kind of strange light sometimes seen at sea, deals with so many of the themes that are clearly important to its director: family, loss, love and responsibility. Even more interestingly, TrustMovies thinks, is that fact that all these themes are dealt with in a manner even more graceful, subtle and quiet than in any of Hirokazu's later films (which are themselves pretty graceful, subtle and quiet).

While the director usually writes his original screenplays (or occasionally bases one on a manga), with Maborosi, he worked from a screenplay by Yoshihita Ogita (adapted from the novel by Teru Miyamoto). Whether he was deliberately more careful in adhering to the screenplay or it simply worked out this way, his movie is almost exquisitely calm, composed, placid and beautiful.

In telling a tale of disappearance and death, family and obligation, the director makes a rare visual poetry out of loss, grief and only very painful, difficult renewal.

Beginning with the disappearance of a much loved grandmother (above) and then all too soon the apparent suicide of a beloved husband and best friend (below), our heroine, Yumiko (Makiko Esumi), barely able to shoulder the co-responsibility of caring for a young child before her loss, now is forced to do it all nearly alone.

Still, new life beckons, and Yumiko accepts it, as a new husband and his daughter joins her and her little son, bringing them to a small, strange and beautiful -- if pretty desolate -- seaside town.

The movie relies even more on its visuals than on its rather sparse dialog to guide us along, and because those visuals are so beautifully composed (the cinematography is by Nasao Nakabori), we follow effortlessly. And though we are told of those illusory seafaring lights, the film itself is so full of odd, dark and beautiful lighting effects (as above and below) that it very nearly becomes its own "Maborosi."

Our heroine (as well as we viewers) wants nothing more than explanation. We expect that things -- important things -- will be revealed. Nothing ever is. Perhaps that is the point: Nothing conclusive can be revealed.

Yes, the past is always present and always will be -- until memory leaves us. The point is not allowing that past to engulf us but rather moving ahead. All of the filmmaker's work seems to underscore this. The beauty and poetry he gives us in the process is what makes that work so special.

From The Milestone Cinematheque and running 110 minutes. Maborosi arrives on Blu-ray/DVD  this coming Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and (I hope) rental.

Luchino Visconti's ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS: A classic masterpiece of neo-realism and family melodrama arrives on Blu-ray/DVD

TrustMovies first encountered ROCCO AND HIS BROTHERS, the landmark movie from Italian master Luchino Visconti, in 1960 when he was in the midst of his college years. That year he also saw René Clément's Purple Noon for the first time and of course -- as did simultaneously half of the world's moviegoers, women and men -- fell in love with the star of both films, Alain Delon. These two movies, together with Ingmar Bergman's The Magician, which he had seen the year previously, changed his movie-going habits forever by demonstrating how much more powerful, involving, thought-provoking and entertaining international films could be when compared with so much of the drivel he had experienced via the output of the Hollywood studios.

From then and onwards, TM suspects that he has seen at least as many foreign films as domestic product. Rocco and His Brothers, making its DVD and Blu-ray debut next week in a glorious new 4K restoration via Milestone Films, also put him in touch with the work of the late Signore Visconti (shown at left), for which he is doubly grateful.

And while he must have seen this film at least ten or more times when he was much younger (and then again on videotape maybe two decades ago), he doesn't recall its ever looking any better than it does now, as Giuseppe Rotunno's magnificent black-and-white cinematography shimmers and glows, then dapples and darkens its way toward making this movie one of, if not the most beautifully filmed accomplishments of all time.

Given that the movie deals with a poor family from Italy's south that travels by train to the "big city" of Milan only to find itself living in continued near-poverty, with little of what might be called traditional beauty of sets, costumes or locations to be seen, makes Rotunno's accomplishment all that more special.

Some aficionados might bridle at my calling Rocco a melodrama. But it is. Melodrama was Visconti's forte, and this film is his best among many excellent ones, from Ossessione through Senso, Sandra and The Damned. What makes Rocco so great is that the melodrama is anchored to a tale that incorporates Visconti's major concerns: family, class and the impact of change upon tradition.

Working with a vast array of characters, in which each -- from smallest to most important -- is brought to impressive life, the protagonists, a mother (Katina Paxinou, above, left) and her five sons, come north and quickly fall into the somewhat decadent life of the city. From boxing gyms and hookers to a dry cleaning establishment, the military and a thoroughly bourgeois family into which one son will marry, family members brush up against (and sometimes embrace) everything from power and money to theft and murder.

The emotional stakes here are ultra-high, and Visconti, his writers and cast plunge in with utter abandon. (This is probably what made the movie so powerful for me as a very young man: I'd never experienced anything like it on screen.)

And while M. Delon (above), an actor of limited range and depth, will always remain for me the most beautiful man to ever grace the screen, watching the film again today only makes the marvelous work of actor Renato Salvatori (below, second from right), who plays the most wayward of the five brothers so very remarkable. An actor up-until-then known for light romantic comedy, his performance here would become the highlight of his career.

So, too, would the work of Annie Girardot (below, in the role of Nadia, the prostitute who becomes involved with two of the brothers) place this actress squarely and deservedly on the map of international stardom.

The movie is just three minutes short of three hours long, but it is never in the least slow-moving, let alone boring, thanks to Visconti's ability at pacing and at making the most of the melodrama's meat. Two scenes still hold the power to shock and scald: the rape and the murder.

And how wonderful it is to see the film once again uncut and containing the various segments (along with title cards) for each of the five brothers.

Revisiting a love from one's youth can sometimes be disappointing. I'm delighted to say that Rocco and His Brothers holds up in every way and in every detail.

From The Milestone Cinematheque, available as both DVD and Blu-ray, the film hits the street this coming Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and (I would hope) rental. The terrific Bonus Features include two that are definitely "don't miss": a video interview with Caterina d'Amico, daughter of one of Italy's most famous screenwriters, Suso Cecchi d'Amico, and another, earlier set of interviews by Caterina with Rocco cast and crew members, including her mother. These are so filled with fascinating, pertinent, enjoyable and funny stuff that I could watch them all over again. And probably will.

Shubhashish Bhutiani's HOTEL SALVATION explores life, death and family in India

When the grandfather of the family suddenly announces that he is soon going to die and wants to make his final pilgrimage to a holy city on the banks of the Ganges River, his adult son -- an overworked accountant or financial planner, from the sound of things -- first tries to convince his father otherwise but then finally agrees to accompany him on the trip.

From this unusual premise comes a movie -- HOTEL SALVATION, co-written (with Asad Hussain) and directed by first-time full-length filmmaker, Shubhashish Bhutiani, shown at right) -- that offers up almost all the usual and expected results: father-son arguments, followed by some bonding, family problems and relationships brought to the fore and then solved. Surely you know the routine by now.

What makes this movie a bit different is all the detail that arrives via its sub-continent setting: the religion, the life, the culture and the cuisine in which we're steeped.

The immediate family (shown below) provides our main characters: the grandfather Daya (Lalit Behl, center), father Rajiv (Adil Hussan, left), mother Lata (Geetanjali Kulkarni, near right) and daughter Sunita (Palomi Ghosh, far right).

Once Daya and Rajiv have reached their Ganges destination and its titular hotel, we meet more diverse and interesting characters such as the hotel proprietor and a widow woman (Navnindra Behl, below, right), who, it turns out, has been waiting quite a few years for her time to die.

Along the way we get a number of light philosophical discussions about life, death and religion (this is definitely Salvation-lite), some family history to sort out, and interesting religious practices such as bathing a corpse in the Ganges and then cremating it, drinking "holy" water from that same river (yikes!) and donating a cow (wow!).

Interestingly enough, what looks like the film's climax arrives in the middle, but then we're suddenly up and running again. And if the movie -- except for its location -- takes us nowhere we've not been previously, in one culture or another, its actual finale provides a nice mix of sorrow and an odd sort of joy. It is both predictable and moving.

From Film Movement, in Hindi with English subtitles and running 100 minutes, Hotel Salvation hits DVD and digital this coming Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and/or rental.

Streaming must: The Hugh Grant renaissance continues via Stephen Frear's tone-perfect joy, A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL

Never off the grid of television or movie screens for more than a year or so, at longest, British actor Hugh Grant is now approaching his senior years (he turns 58 this September) with a renewed vigor and presence that seems nothing short of remarkable. Think for a moment of his last three outings. In 2016, he got a Golden Globe nomination for his work as the helpful, loving and straying husband to and in Florence Foster Jenkins. I hope you did not miss his delightful and versatile work in 2017's Paddington 2, which ought to have garnered him a Best Supporting Oscar were it not that the Academy seldom takes seriously great comic acting (his musical number during the end credits alone is sensational). Paddington 2, by the way, has the distinction of being the most highly rated movie ever on Rotten Tomatoes. (Deservedly so, too. It gives non-stop pleasure and delight, while everyone connected with the film -- actors, writers, director, costumers, production designers -- is top-notch.)

Now we have A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL, the new three-part series from BBC One, available to stream via Amazon Prime. As directed by Stephen Frears (shown at right), one of the world's best but least-fully-appreciated filmmakers, with a screenplay by Russell T. Davies and John Preston, the movie manages what can only be called a near-perfect tone throughout. What I mean is that, although it deals with "criminal" sexuality (as homosexuality was stupidly viewed in Britain, as the movie's time period begins), betrayal, infidelity, blackmail and murder, the film itself is about as witty and consistently delightful as you could believe possible, given the subject matter.

How Frears, Davies, Preston and their enormously gifted cast manage this is by never over-doing the comedy but letting it flow naturally from these characters, many of whom are entitled, pompous and hugely hypocritical British males of the 1960 and 70s. The humanity of every single character here is never for a moment lost, even as we delight again and again in their foibles. Their clever, sometimes near-poetic/pornographic dialog flows so readily and naturally that to miss even a line or two would be a shame indeed.

Mr. Grant (above) is at his coldest, silliest and often saddest here, and he is matched scene for scene by the wonderful Ben Whishaw (below), who plays the most truthful, least hypocritical character in the film -- even if his antics often prove quite shocking, considering the time frame of the film.

That the movie is based on a real-life tale -- do stay for the end-credit sequence that will bring you up-to-date on what happened to these people -- only makes the goings-on that much more mind-boggling fun.

From practically the first encounter we view -- that of Grant's character, the light of the Liberal Party, Jeremy Thorpe, and his good friend Peter Bessell (played by a terrific Alex Jennings, above, right), as the two discuss their sexual preferences, the banter is simultaneously surprising, beautifully restrained yet still jolting, and funny despite itself. It also perfectly encapsulates the men's sense of entitlement: so absolute that's it's simply a given.

How the tale unfurls to encompass the most awful things -- most of which do not, finally, occur -- simply increases the series' black humor, with a wonderful array of subsidiary near-nitwits brought into the plot. (Two of these -- played by Blake Harrison above, left, and Dyfan Dwyfor above, right -- are especially funny.)

Mr. Frears usually jumps and mashes genres and I suspect this proves a great help in his ability to achieve his special and remarkable consistent "tone" within a film that melds genres so thoroughly (think of his work in The Grifters, Hero, Dirty Pretty Things, Tamara Drew and Lay the Favorite, just for starters). He manages this again here, achieving in the process one of his most succulent successes.

As one might expect in a tale that deal so much with homosexuality, it is the men here with whom we are most concerned. And yet, the few women who appear in any way prominently are brought to fine life by the actresses involved. Especially good are Patricia Hodge (two photos up) as Thorpe's mum, Monica Dolan (above, right) as his second wife,

and a deliciously on-target Michelle Dotrice (above, right, with very large dog) as the bar owner who proves such an aid to the Whishaw character in his time of need.

As for Mister Whishaw (above and below), who comes through with colors flying, if this fine actor ever get another role as juicy as this one, I shall be first in line to see the result. As Norman Josiffe/Norman Scott, he so thoroughly gives over to the bizarre, amazing and anything-but-politically-correct personality of this young man that he earns completely our disbelief, shock and finally enormous admiration.

What a story -- and how very well it has been told! You can catch it now via Amazon streaming. If you're already an Amazon Prime member, it's free -- this three-part series alone makes Prime worth the entire year's membership -- but if not, the episodes are well worth paying for.

Weighty matters and bizarre male bonding in Denis Côté's documentary, A SKIN SO SOFT

The first thing we see is a hugely muscular man with a very long beard (two photos below). Wow: Rip van Winkle meets Mr. Universe. Then we watch a much younger, clean-shaven man (shown at bottom) having a meal, followed by some body building. Next, a woman's voice announces, Cedric: It's 9AM!, as another resplendent body, full of tattoos and piercings (on poster, right) awakens and rises. Then we move to an Asian-Canadian hunk (shown fourth photo from bottom), who doubles as husband and father and seems like a particularly loving dad. All possess uber-muscular bodies beautiful -- if, that is, you're an aficionado of the culture of body building.

The filmmaker here is that unique French Canadian (via New Brunswick), Denis Côté (shown at left), who has gifted film lovers with a number of oddball and very interesting -- often nearly non-classifiable -- movies. (You can read my post on NYC's Anthology Film Archives' 2012 retrospective of Côté's work by clicking here.)

Oh, his movies are either documentary or narratives, all right, but within those realms, of course, anything is possible. And that's what Côté usually offers. You are likely to finish one (or more) of his films with the same question hanging in front of you: What did I just see?

Expect no easy, one-word answer. Though I would say that you will have probably seen something human -- and humane. Unless the filmmaker is dealing with animals. Then you'll have likely experienced a film that has you somehow looking out through the animals' eyes.

Côté's latest film to reach our shores is A SKIN SO SOFT (Ta peau si lisse), the title of which already causes questions, since lisse translates as smooth, rather than soft), and considering the nearly completely shaven and exfoliated bodies these guys possess (facial hair is evidently OK, however), smooth is definitely the better adjective.

Although we meet and spend some time with maybe a dozen different would-be champions during the course of this 93-minute documentary, there are really just six important men here (we do glimpse a woman body-builder, too, but just briefly). God forbid that we should be given anything remotely like exposition, however. No: The filmmaker just plops us down into their lives willy-nilly and lets us find our own way.

Dialog is kept to a minimum, and what there is does not even advance our understanding much. Instead, and as usual, it's the visuals that keep us alert and interested. Like the big bruiser, two photos up, who suddenly and quite literally seems to be pulling a two-ton truck. Later, we see the same guy (at least, I think it was he) fast asleep with a great big dog lying in his lap. So dear! And then suddenly he's wrestling -- not body-building -- in a scene that makes Canadian wrestling look even dumber and more phony than the American variety.

We imagine that these men are in training for some competition, and during the film's final third, we do see, briefly, a competition. We also imagine that perhaps these guys do not know each other and are are not connected in any way. And then M. Côté delivers his pièce de résistance -- again, with no exposition, little dialog and just those visuals, this time in a gloriously verdant outdoor setting.

Anyone demanding a connect-the-dots experience had better avoid A Skin So Soft. We could certainly have gotten to know these guys a hell of a lot better via more conventional movie-making means. But for those willing to take a chance, and perhaps get to know body-building culture from what you might call the inside-out, the movie may turn out to be -- in its bizarre and very nearly fuck you, viewer! manner -- something almost memorable.

From Breaking Glass Pictures, the documentary opens this Friday, July 6, in New York City for a week-long run at Anthology Film Archives. It has played L.A. already and is available now for purchase or rental via Amazon VOD. Breaking Glass also promises that a DVD will be forthcoming soon. 

Daniel Peddle returns with a back-woods, southern-set tale entitled MOSS

TrustMovies was very impressed with young filmmaker Daniel Peddle's earlier narrative movie, Sunset Edge, and so was quite looking forward to seeing his latest -- a North Carolina seacoast-set, slice-of-life coming-of-age film titled eponymously with the name of its main character, MOSS.

Abloom with the area's flora and fauna -- marijuana to alligators -- the movie stars a young film newcomer, Mitchell Slaggert (shown at right), who possesses a nice face, a great body and just about enough charisma to hold an audience for the requisite 80-minute running time.

Mr. Peddle, shown at left, here concentrates much more heavily on a single character than he did in Sunset Edge, which was an ensemble piece, and his Moss is a young man with a lot of problems -- too many of which are laid out via rather clunky exposition.

In no time at all we've learned that today is Moss' birthday, that his mom died in childbirth and that he feels his dad blames him for this.

To escape the fraught father-son relationship, Moss says he is going to visit his kindlier grandmother but stops at his best friend's

houseboat to pick up some drugs and then gets waylaid en route by an attractive older woman (Christine Marzano, below), with whom he quickly bonds, gets high (using an apple as conduit!) and has sex -- all of which saddles the film was an element of male wish-fulfillment/fantasy.

This is handled reasonably well, however, so that if we wish to see it as fantasy, we certainly can. We can also view it as a Southern-set coming-of-age tale, a chance for some necessary parent/child bonding, and/or a warning about the consequences of being late to your grandmother's house.

The Southern atmosphere, fairly dripping with sloth and humidity, is captured well, and the performances are as good as the sparse but not nearly deep enough script will allow.

That we learn next to nothing about the woman or the best friend (Dorian Cobb, above) is perhaps acceptable, but concerning Moss and his dad (nicely played by Billy Ray Suggs, shown at bottom), we learn only enough to be able to ascertain, by film's end, that this has proven a break-through day for them both. Which smacks more of manufacture than of anything organic.

Still, young Slaggert (above, who has modeled for Calvin Klein) is a feast for the eyes. He, along with the ambience Peddle presents, just might constitute a movie worth watching.

From Breaking Glass Pictures and running just 80 minutes, Moss opens this Friday, July 6, in New York City (at the Cinema Village) and in Los Angeles (at Laemmle's Music Hall 3) before hitting home video the following Tuesday, July 10 -- for purchase and/or rental.