- クラウド (Cloud)
9/7/26 (Mon)
Kurosawa Kiyoshi’s 2024 suspense film takes a hairpin curve midway to become a very different flick.
9/7/26 (Mon)
Kurosawa Kiyoshi’s 2024 suspense film takes a hairpin curve midway to become a very different flick.
9/5/26 (Sat)
Imamura Shohei’s 1958 heist comedy was his third that year, the first (his debut feature) being the similarly titled Stolen Desire. These seem to have been studio assignments, so the fully formed Imamura style isn’t quite there. But the seeds are in place. This is supposedly based on an obscure Edward G Robinson film, though that’s not officially credited.
8/28/26 (Fri)
This is the 25th anniversary of writer/director Hashiguchi Ryosuke’s seminal gay film, which I haven’t seen since it came out. I remember little more than that I enjoyed it, but I thought of it when I saw one of the leads, Takahashi Kazuya, in this year’s Samurai Vengeance as a, let’s say, unconventional-looking onnagata. This film was back when he was young and beautiful, as were we all.
The story of two gay men and a woman who wants a baby sounded like a setup for a typical romcom, but the film takes an unexpected turn into more profound territory. Continue reading
8/24/26 (Mon)
I learned about Sönke Wortmann’s 1994 comedy when I was telling a German friend about a different film, Killer Condom. He recognized the writer of that film as the gay manga artist whose work was the basis for both, and strongly recommended this one. I took one look at the eye-catching poster and was sold. Described as one of the most famous German comedies ever, Wortmann’s debut feature proved a colossal success at the box office. The German title seems to be something like “the restless man”, indicating a man with an unstable or constantly changing life, while the English title outside the US is a boring The Most Desirable Man. The nice US title refers to the confusion of others from the main character’s clueless actions; there is no maybe regarding his straight sexuality, i.e., this is not a story about a man discovering his gay side, but about others projecting their fears and fantasies on him.
7/24/26 (Fri)
I hadn’t thought about the Barbra Streisand vehicle since its release in 1969, so my memories, not entirely positive, were pretty vague. When a friend suggested it out of nowhere, I figured it was a good excuse to take another look.
6/20/26 (Sat)
I had skipped this in the theater since I’d seen enough of Bob Dylan in the documentary Don’t Look Back, which covers roughly the same time period as this film. But the flight to Europe was long, and I do like the music.
The filmmakers cast an admirably neutral light on Dylan, who again comes off as a fine musician but rotten person. He is dismissive of others both creatively and personally, sleeps around with little thought to the women’s feelings, and is disloyal even to those closest to him. Highway 91 is a tremendous album and all that, but that doesn’t excuse his behavior at the folk festival. It’s like going to a Broadway Musical concert and playing heavy metal: it’s just rude. It wouldn’t have killed him to show respect to his mentor by singing just one or two oldies, especially given that he owes his career in good part to the mentor. He could have quietly withdrawn after that, and it wouldn’t have affected sales of Highway 91 whatsoever. He comes off as a selfish jerk, though that’s no surprise after the documentary.
As a film, though, the material was terrific. Continue reading
I see where Arthur Miller’s Incident at Vichy is being revived off Broadway next year, produced by and starring Alex Winter of Bill and Ted fame. An article in Deadline states that the show will feature actors of various races and genders and “strip away the lavish, realistic set and period costumes” of past productions. It quotes the production company Small Boat Productions as saying, “This is not a play about one moment trapped in time; rather, it is a play about an ongoing catastrophe of indifference and inaction in the face of atrocity,” a theme it contends is being played out in “Ukraine, Lebanon, Gaza, Iran, and Minneapolis.”
In fact, the play is clearly about a moment in time: it is explicitly about the Vichy government hunting down Jews and other undesirables on behalf of the Nazis. A number of men who have been rounded up on the streets for no given reason are waiting in a room for racial inspection. That includes checks for circumcision, which is going to make this multi-gender casting interesting. It takes place on a single set – I’m not sure what they mean by lavish – and the “period costumes” are simply normal clothing.
The play gets its universality from its specificity. Most in the room are clinging to the illusion that they will be spared since they are innocent of crimes – not realizing, or willing to realize, that their crime in Nazi Europe is being who they are. Yes, that theme is eminently applicable to crises elsewhere, though the mention of Minneapolis is telling — are they seriously comparing that to Vichy France? The switching of race and gender will be nice and ever-so-trendy, but it will dilute the reality of what’s being portrayed. It shows a lack of trust or understanding in the material.
I would have thought Winter would have learned from the stark austerity of his previous New York appearance, last year’s Waiting for Godot. Samuel Beckett’s estate evidently has more integrity in its oversight of its productions.
The last Vichy production I saw was over a pub in London, directed by Phil Willmott in a beautifully stripped-down version with nothing but a single bench against a sheer white wall. Willmott let the text speak for itself, a highly effective approach. My review of that is below. I’m delighted that this unfairly overlooked piece is getting a new staging, but I hope they keep in mind what makes it such a searing piece of theater. Continue reading
8/15/26 (Sat)
Oshima Nagisa’s sensational 1960 sophomore effort proved a major hit for Shochiku, a far cry from its staid family fare at the time. The cruelty in the title is no joke. In line with the nihilistic Sun Tribe films that were popular at the time with all the usual images (motorboats, Hawaiian shirts, nightclubs, apathetic men, casual sex, abortions), but showing the seamy side of society rather than the aimless middle class. Stylistically in line with New Wave French films with its jumpy camerawork and discordant images; Oshima specifically cites Breathless as an inspiration. This film sparked what is known as a Japanese New Wave, though he dismisses the phrase as a mere signal for sex and violence – which is certainly true in his case.
7/18/26 (Sat)
Derek Yee’s 1987 thriller is a deft Hong Kong homage to Dog Day Afternoon. Continue reading
7/8/26 (Wed)
A young man on a subway, listening blankly on his earphones to the incessantly repetitive “Bolero”, sees a guy lashing out at a woman whose baby is crying but does nothing to help her. He alights at a station and gets a call from his girlfriend, who tells him she’s pregnant. She is frightened and trying to decide whether to abort it. He tells her that he’ll go right away to the hospital.
Heading for Exit 8, he becomes caught in an endless loop of corridors. A sign informs him that he can only go forward if there are no anomalies – but it’s up to him to decide what is and isn’t an anomaly. If he fails, he will be sent back to the start, where he must go through the process again.
6/27/26 (Sat), West End
The truth can be a slippery thing in Florian Zeller’s ever-adroit hands, nowhere more hilariously as in this four-person farce of betrayal, cross-betrayal, suspicion, guilt, and lies of little-white and other varieties. Zeller is at the top of his game in this early (2016) work, translated expertly as always by Christopher Hampton.
A man has been having an affair with his best friend’s wife, unbeknownst to either his own wife or his friend – or so he believes. The lies he tells to hide his misbehavior, the lies others tell to spare each other’s feelings, the lies we tell to fool ourselves – all come crashing down as one storyline undercuts the previous one right until the final seconds.