6/6/26 (Sat)
John Ford’s 1956 classic features John Wayne as a complex character whose obsessive hatred of the Comanche tribe recalls his self-destructive pursuit of revenge on his own disciple in Red River. The roots of his loathing are signaled in a gravestone revealing that his mother was murdered by the tribe – but the equally fanatical Scar, the head of the tribe, recalls that his children were killed by the white settlers. The cycle of vengeance thus continues unbroken.
5/31/26 (Sun)
Wong Kar-wai’s 2013 tribute to Ip Man (葉問), the legendary grandmaster and propagator of the Wing Chun (詠春) style of kung fu, which he brought from mainland China to Hong Kong. His most famous student was Bruce Lee, securing his legacy for future generations. His eventful life is fascinating and has been the subject of numerous films, this being the most high-minded. The story is rather disjointed, but I found out later that I was watching the severely cut US version (108 min vs. original’s 130 min – not to mention a separate European cut at 123 min). Even in the shortened version, it’s clear that Wong was aiming for a more intellectual approach to a kung fu film, perhaps analogous to the concept-minded Wing Chun style itself.
12/19/21 (Sun)
Ozu’s 1959 film was supposed to be a remake of his 1932 silent classic I Was Born, But…, but the only resemblance was the presence of two young brothers rebelling against their parents (hunger strike in earlier film vs. vow of silence here). One of the last films he ever made, it still feels fresh and fun.
5/12/26 (Tues)
A typical poor-girl-meets-rich-boy-with-snobby-family tale dressed in Singaporean guise. Continue reading
By sheer coincidence, I arrived in Taiwan for rehearsals of my stage version of Tsai Ming-liang’s visionary 1997 The Hole to learn that the film is just now being given its first theatrical release in the US. I’m not sure what prompted the move after nearly thirty years, but I’m taking that as a good sign for my rendering. While Tsai may never have imagined that his nightmarish scenario would occur in his lifetime, the experience of an actual global pandemic certainly gives us a new perspective on the material. Here is my review.
5/2/26 (Sat)
Takumi Furukawa wrote and directed this highly successful 1956 adaptation of Ishihara Shintaro’s sensational best-seller of one year earlier, which gave the movement its Sun Tribe name.
The plot is not much different from the subsequent Sun Tribe masterpiece Crazed Fruit, also based on an Ishihara novel. As I commented there, the film
“features a group of bored rich 20-year-olds, who grew up in the shadow of defeat with no memory of Japan’s pre-war past and no sense of a future. They spend their time idling away their days in sailboats, nightclubs and cars in a bid to fight off tedium, devoted mainly to gambling, drinking, picking fights, dancing and especially hunting women, albeit just for momentary pleasure (including orgies) rather than anything as permanent as romance.”
However, Season, at least in its film version, is less focused than the later work. It tries too hard in its nihilism to a point that doesn’t make sense. The lead’s rejection of the main female character may have seemed cool on paper but is not realistic as presented, especially when she tells him she’s pregnant. I’m sure the idea is that he’s wedded to his all-embracing apathy – a protest against the passion that drove the previous generation to war – to an extent that destroys him and others around him. That is, the willful disengagement of the Sun Tribe generation is no better than the blind nationalism that preceded it. A powerful theme, suggesting that the young are as caught up unthinkingly in a national mood as their parents were. But the main character seems to be striking an attitude rather than feeling it. The film needs a more credible story to work, which Ishihara achieved in the later Fruit.
Continue reading5/2/26 (Sat)
Ieki Miyoji’s 1963 elegiac work follows several dozen kids evacuated from Tokyo to safer areas away from their families during the war, based on an actual record of children moved from a Tokyo elementary school. The filmmakers were themselves familiar with such experiences and have clearly recreated this with heart. The setting is a village in the Kanto region in what we now know were the final months of the war.
Continue reading4/25/26 (Sat)
Werner Herzog’s lavishly praised 1972 film, inspired by real-life tales, is a piece of pretentious garbage in minimalist style pretending to profundity.
Continue readingThe Last Metro (Le Dernier Métro)
Truffaut’s 1980 film is set in Paris during the occupation years, which he himself experienced as a child. Marion (Catherine Deneuve), a noted film actress, is rehearsing a stage play, ironically titled The Vanishing Woman (La disparue, translated elsewhere more broadly as Disappeared), that was supposed to be directed by her Jewish husband Lucas (Jean Poiret). As being Jewish was hazardous to one’s health in Vichy France, she has made it known that he has fled to South America, and another director has taken the helm.
We learn, however, that she is in fact keeping Lucas hidden in the cellar, where he can hear the rehearsals taking place. He gives notes on the show to Marion, who manages to incorporate his vision into the work. Her lover in the play is being performed by a handsome and randy young actor Bernard (Gérard Depardieu), whose horniness was established earlier when he was seen trying to pick up a random woman on the street. (When he learns that she is part of the play’s crew, he continues to pursue her until discovering she’s lesbian, an interesting development for the times even for the French.) It also turns out that Bernard was a member of the Resistance, putting him in danger as well if his identity is revealed. Lucas, listening carefully to the dialogue, does not sense sufficient passion from the stage lovers and encourages his reluctant wife to put more emotion into it, unwillingly setting off flames between the actors.
Continue reading· The Fifth Step (NT Live)
A National Theatre Live film of a two-man stage show of 2025. The title refers to Alcoholic Anonymous’ 12 steps toward recovery.
A nervous young Scottish man works with his older mentor at AA to overcome his addiction to drink. They are going through the 12 steps, approaching the fifth, which demands admitting your flaws to someone as well as yourself. He claims to be incel (involuntarily celibate, i.e., can’t get laid – they need a word for this?). He is generally obsessive, claiming to masturbate dozens of times per day and fixated over women. His calmer mentor appears to have his life under control: married, children, no drink in decades. The young man expresses envy, comparing marriage memorably to “pussy on tap”. (The mentor assures him that it’s not that easy.)
The young man seeks solace in religion, but the more skeptical mentor says that you can find God anywhere if that’s what you want to believe, even in a paper cup. At one point, the young man is hallucinating that his mentor is a rabbit. As their relationship evolves, the mentor becomes more controlling. When the young man develops a relationship with a woman, the mentor warns him that he is just exchanging one fixation for another and says he must wait until he is cured before venturing into romance. The young man is understandably peeved since it was the mentor who was encouraging him to find spiritual comfort in the first place. It then emerges that the woman who the young man is sleeping with might be the mentor’s wife. The men’s relationship begins to change as we discover that the mentor has not been entirely honest with the man – or himself.
Continue reading·
4/4/26 (Sat)
Jacques Tourneur’s classic 1947 noir was adapted by Daniel Mainwaring (under a pseudonym) and others from his 1946 novel, Build My Gallows High, a phrase that appears memorably in the movie script. I was surprised to see Kirk Douglas as a featured performer rather than the star, but those were early days.
Continue reading3/27/26 (Fri)
EM Forster’s book, considered a minor work in his oeuvre, was given this terrific adaptation by James Ivory in 1987. The novel was conceived in 1913 but not published until 1971, a year after the author’s death, due to his concern over the gay content. Ivory, who is himself gay, unexpectedly chose this after the success of his first Forster adaptation, the wonderful A Room with a View. While the gay aspect sets the film apart for its time, the question of identity extends as well to class, the perennial subject of the British arts, which makes it more complex.
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