From the pen of Tetsuya Nakashima (Kamikaze Girls, Memories Of Matsuko) comes a comic look at the Japanese porn industry…

Expanding on a mispronunciation of an American tourist’s observation that Tokyo sure has a ‘lot of people’, Lala Pipo is essentially a series of overlapping vignettes, with Tetsuya Nakashima’s story weaving through a seedier side to Tokyo life. There’s Hiroshi, a disheveled loner desperate for a girlfriend, but too revolted in himself to get close to anyone other than his penis (played by a muppet, it’s the only persons he has conversations with!); shop assistant Tomoko who unintentionally finds her way into the porn industry, thanks to charming talent scout; Koichi, who imagines himself as porno Power Ranger Captain Bonita; and Sayuri, an overweight young woman whose aspiration is to be an Anime voiceover artist, and whose ambition has already seen her cater to a niche market in the porn industry.

Debut director Masayuki Miyano does a fair job of bringing Nakashima script to life in a way that would do him proud. It’s full of the same sort of japanese cultural and pop imagery, though somewhat less dense in it’s bombardment of those references than Nakashima would be, it quickly runs out of steam from the end of the opening sequence on.

With similar themes explored elsewhere in Tetsuya Nakashima’s work (not to mention plenty of other Japanese films) – of isolation and loneliness, and desire to end that leading to sexual exploitation or dominance of one kind or another – the brevity by which we explore each character leads to a real lack of depth in the film. Not that it doesn’t in turn keep the film light and upbeat, but it also means it lacks the emotion connection Nakashima makes in his own films.

Indeed, it brings up comparison with Tsai Ming-liang’s The Wayward Cloud, which managed to keep the more cringe worthy moments yet still make it’s characters a little more real.

It’s notable that the most seemingly pathetic character when we meet her first, Sayuri, who is looked down on by even Hiroshi, is actually the happiest and most successful on her own terms. Again Nakashima’s comment here seems clear – a solitary existence isn’t the end of the world, it’s more how you feel about yourself.

Though Lala Pipo is arguably a little light on its subject, it’s neither as explicit as perhaps it ought to be nor as honest about the consequences, it’s a likable comedy that should help build on Nakashima’s reputation for great modern storytelling, and it’s no bad debut for Miyano either.

With an interesting premise that goes awry, Hirokazu Kore-eda’s blow-up doll may develop a heart, but where’s the films soul?

In the first of a (short) series we look at some of the more interesting films that premiered at the recent 2009 London Film Festival and will, hopefully, make it to a wider audience. First up is Air Doll, director Hirokazu Kore-eda’s latest offering about an inflatable sex doll that comes to life…

The doll in question belongs Hideo (Itsuji Itao, Death Note: The Last Name, Tokyo Gore Police, Love Exposure), who treats the sex doll more like a living companion, dressing her up, talking to her over dinner, and generally caring for her far more than he would a real girlfriend (with a great sense of irony by director Kore-eda).

One day the doll he calls Nozomi (Bae Doo-Na, The Host, Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance, Barking Dogs Never Bite) comes to life, and begins living a real, second life when he goes to work. Naively exploring the world outside her apartment, she soon encounters various urban residents who are as metaphorically ‘empty inside’ as she is for real. Getting a job at a local video store, she befriends her colleague Junichi (Arata, Bare Essence of Life, 20th Century Boys, Ping Pong), with whom she learns about life through films they watch together there.

As that friendship turns to love, she begins to know what it feels like to be a real human, but that happiness is soon interrupted by tragedy…

This isn’t the first film to feature a sex doll. In the past we’ve seen Lars And The Real Girl and delusional schlock horror Love Object, but it’s the first to show it from the dolls perspective. Of course, Kore-eda’s film is far more than an obvious look at the objectification of women in today’s society – it’s a tender meditation on the isolation of urban life, and loneliness each of his characters feel, and what it means to be human.

Based on the manga The Pneumatic Figure of a Girl by Yoshie Gouda – himself no stranger to live-action adaptations with the recent very successful version of Happily Ever After – the core themes are by no means uncommon. Indeed, even the more spectacular science fiction of Ghost In The Shell has at its heart the same question, what does it mean to be a living being.

As with previous films like Hana (which itself played at the London Film Festival two years ago), Kore-eda keeps his characters to a core ensemble, as they reoccur and we learn more about their lives. Each is fractured and dysfunctional in some way or another, all have a certain emptiness. Yet somehow the film itself fails to connect, like it’s as empty as the subject. It may have heart, but lacks the soul and warmth of Hana (which to my mind has been one of the most enjoyable and overlooked Samurai period films of recent years). It’s almost as if the director is holding us at the same distance we keep ourselves from our urban neighbours. (And again, not an uncommon themes, particularly in Japanese films.)

It’s when Nozomi meets her maker, the film really loses its way. It dithers for half an hour, seemingly unsure of where it wants to go, coming to a tragic but ultimately unsatisfying conclusion. When he asks if she has seen anything other than sadness in this world, she shakes her head. In many ways, it’s not unlike John Sayles interesting but flawed The Brother From Another Planet.

Korean actress Bae Doo-Na gives another solid performance in the lead, if oddly almost unrecognisable – her nationality successfully adding a level or two to Nozomi’s alienation and general bewilderment. Indeed, spending much of the film naked is bound to please long-time fans of her work, though Kore-eda’s direction is not at all salacious. Its only after she accidently nicks herself, letting precious air out of her body, and Junichi saves her by blowing her up, both sensual and hilarious, that his film gets remotes sexy – which seems somewhat fitting.

Kore-eda’s film is a great concept, and pretty well played out. Worth seeing. It just makes you wish some bright spark would hurry up and licence Hana (not to mention pretty much all of Kore-eda’s back catalogue!) for UK release, though…

Director Sion Sono follows up Exte: Hair Extensions with an equally unpredictable (nearly) four-hour epic love story… of sorts…

It’s not something you might expect, but Catholic religion seems to be taking something of a central role in Asian films lately. In Park Chan-wook’s Thirst he portrayed it as a surprisingly progressive (at least in comparison to our Western interpretation) faith, ready to accept and integrate a vampiric priest as part of God’s work. In Sion Sono’s Love Exposure it seems anything but, and as impenetrable and bizarre as any cult. However, both directors use it as the basis for their exploration of morals and sexual desire.

When Yu (Takahiro Nishijima) loses his mother at an early age, his father turns to becoming a Catholic priest in order to deal with his grief. If anything, his father’s new life brings them closer together, until a rather emotionally unstable parishioner seduces his father. This, in turn, causes his father to take out his guilt on Yu, he forces him to attend confession as often as possible. As he quickly runs out of false transgressions to own up to, he turns to finding new and real sins to confess – the most successful of which being taking clandestine ‘panty shots’ of women on the streets.

Such antics bring him to the attention of Aya Koike (Sakura Ando, Crime Or Punishment) – con artist, coke dealer and regional leader of a religious ‘Zero’ cult – who decides she can manipulate Yu to her own ends. Shortly after their meeting, he also encounters man-hating (bar Kurt Cobain) schoolgirl Yoko (Hikari Mitsushima, Shaolin Girl, Death Note: The Last Name, Death Note) and falls instantly in love with her (though at the time he’s disguised as a woman at the time due to losing a bet with his friends).

Then Yu finds out Yoko become his stepsister: can he ever reveal his identity and win her over – let alone his double life as the ‘King Of Perverts’ – or will he just be unwilling pawn in Aya’s plans?

At nearly four hours in length you might expect Love Exposure to be something of a mind-numbing (and bum-numbing!) experience, but Sion Sono’s titanic love story is anything but. It’s funny, quirky, and even poignant in places. There’s a clever use of pace, starting slow and eventually building itself into a frenzy in the first half – yet a strange lack of direction permeates the second half, undoing all his good work, and hardly making this the defining work of Sion’s career as some have suggested.

The allegedly bizarre cult (though for the main part depicted as little more outlandish than Catholicism itself) tantalisingly echoes that in 20th Century Boys. But before you go thinking that the film is about to reveal the same sort of overlapping complexities –particularly once Aya becomes involved – will find the latter half somewhat simplistic. If anything, Aya’s motives remain frustratingly unspoken, beyond her being as besotted with Yu as he is with Yoko.

(You might also find the whole ‘original sin’ shtick a bit obvious…)

Sion’s continual returning to the theme of parental abuse and neglect, oddly present in all the leads lives to varying degrees, hints at issues of his own he may well need to sort out. However, if that is the case he definitely brings no resolution to them here.

Perhaps the weakest element is the lack of on-screen chemistry between Takahiro Nishijima and Hikari Mitsushima. Takahiro quirky and (without meaning offense) somewhat effeminate looks may make him believable when he cross-dresses, but hardly as a suitable romantic interest for the feisty (at least initially) and unbelievably cute Hikari. Somehow, you can’t stop thinking she could do an awful lot better –not helped by the fact that Yu’s character is oddly not as sympathetic as it should be. If you’re going to stick with the film for nearly four hours, then you need to.

Ultimately, Sion hints at the quirkiness of Tetsuya Nakashima’s films like Kamikaze Girls and Memories Of Matsuko. He even does a pretty good job of it, making the length feel anything but four hours – but sadly without endearing you to his characters. And you don’t make a four-hour film just because you can.

In short, Love Exposure is interesting, likeable – even good in places – but not quite the masterpiece it might have been, had it carried on with the gusto of the first half.

Love Exposure will open at selected UK cinemas from 30 October, released by Third Window Films.

Kudos for the release, but this Korean black comedy musical falls, well, a bit flat. Literally…

Nowadays, when a relatively new DVD distribution label comes along I feel like I should support everything they put out there. Hell, there’s a lot going awry in the industry right now, times are tough with all you naughty downloaders out there, downloading movies, not paying for them, not going to the cinema anymore, etc.

So along come Terracotta Distribution, who already have a couple of really worthy efforts under their belt with Yim Phil-Sung’s Hansel And Gretel and Singing Chen’s God Man Dog, not to mention an annual festival, and they drop this on us…

Ah, no don’t get me wrong… By now you’ll be thinking this film is terrible, which it simply isn’t. But it’s also not – as the distributors may try to persuade us – on a par with Takeshi Miike’s Happiness Of The Katakuris or The Rocky Horror Show. Which makes this all a little tricky…

Meet the Fox Family. Outwardly a travelling circus troupe, they are in fact just that, a family of fox spirits waiting for the chance to permanently become humans – a rare opportunity that comes once every thousand years, as long as they eat a human liver that night. So the race is on to find some unwitting volunteers.

Unfortunately macabre murders left behind by a serial killer are putting the family in the limelight of a police investigation. Will they be successful in their quest to become human…?

Part fable, part musical, part black comedy, but mainly little of anything, The Fox Family is a victim of never successfully bringing these strands together. The tone is messy, but really the problem is it never truly takes itself far enough down one line or another. The fantasy elements could be made stronger, the humour is a little too juvenile, often dropping into dead end parody skits, and honestly, the songs are lame. Away from the immediate novelty of the cast breaking into song – which frankly doesn’t last long as they’re so prominently flagged up – there’s little left to stick in your brain. It lacks the baffling unpredictability of the aforementioned Happiness Of The Katakuris. (And no, the songs aren’t a patch on Katakuris’ either.)

Occasional glints shine through when the film is at it’s most abstract, like when a standoff between police and protesters turns in to a break dancing standoff. But even this only underlines the films problem, having no relevance the plot whatsoever. Which is a shame as the cast, including Ha Jung-woo (Like You Know It All), former Miss Korea, Park Si-hyeon (Marine Boy), Ju Hyeon (A Love) and Ko Ju-yeon (Epitaph, My Wife Is A Gangster), do a pretty fine job with what they have to work with. It’s well shot too, but the cinematography is definite more solid than inspiring.

So what am I trying to say? Okay film, but don’t hold this against Terracota – give the guys a chance as I’m sure they have plenty more interesting releases in store for us…

An early gem from Studio Ghibli co-founders Hayao Miyazaki (Spirited Away, My Neighbour Totoro, Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea) and Isao Takahata, director of The Raccoon War (aka Pom Poko) and The Grave Of The Fireflies…

Left alone by her grandmother when she has to go out of town, young girl Mimiko worries little about fending for herself, but wishes she had a real family of her own. That wish soon comes true when baby panda Panny and his gigantic bamboo-obsessed father bound into her house, lured by the lush bamboo fields outside.

Mimiko decides to invite her new friends to stay, and soon gets used to having a new family around to keep her company. Only thing is Panny and his Papa have escaped from the local zoo, and the owner wants them back…

So begins Mimiko’s adventures with Panny and Papa Panda, which include Panny accompanying Mimiko to school, an escaped tiger cub who ‘joins’ the family and rescuing circus animals from a devastating flood.

With an original story, scripts and layout by Hayao Miyazaki, Panda! Go Panda! is recognised to be his first notable work. In fact, many consider it to be a dry run for My Neighbour Totoro, and the story has much in common: the young girl looking for companionship, finding mythical creatures (or in this case fantastical – talking pandas?) at the bottom of the garden. The girl herself mirrors that of the youngest girl in Totoro, more genuinely curious about the prospect of a burglar in the house than scared of what they might do. And the panda character designs are very much like the various sized Totoro. The underlying principles of the storyline would become trademark Miyazaki – a world away from battling heroes and villains to 70s Japanese animated TV.

(Even the original Japanese titles, included on the DVD, have the familiar Studio Ghibli look. And they’re far better than the Western/US titles that have been added subsequently.)

Undeniably cute, and even though it’s aimed straight at very young audience it’s particularly well done (with an irresistibly catchy theme tune to boot). The animation is of a good quality, and if not up to later Studio Ghibli standards, it’s still easy to see why the short films Panda! Go Panda! and Circus In The Rain (here presented back-to-back) were so popular on their original release in Japan.  Since it’s made it’s way to audiences across the globe (though personally I found the US dub rather grating).

There are some fine ideas on show here, particularly that Papa Panda could go to work like any other dad, clocking out at 5.30 to return home – only it’s a job at the zoo at the zoo! Considering that later Walt Disney would come to Ghibli to ask to dub and distribute their films in the US, it seems more than a little ironic that the sequel so clearly takes Dumbo as a reference point for the circus coming to town by train.

Indeed it seems odd that, before this Manga release, the film has become difficult to buy on DVD outside of Japan, having been released twice by Pioneer in the US (once with only the English dub!) and once in Australia. (Doubly odd, really, considering the latest Japanese release is from Walt Disney?!)

A wonderfully enjoyable kids film, this is also a fascinating insight into the beginnings of the Studio Ghibli legend for older audiences. Just try getting that theme tune out of your head afterward!

Panda! Go Panda! was released by Manga on 6 July 2009.

A(nother) 21st century take on an anime fave from the past, former model Eriko Sato gets a flimsy excuse to run around in her underwear and skintight cat suit…

With the world threatened by the menace of Sister Jill and her Panther Claw gang, is there anyone who can save it? Surely not the demure office worker Honey Kisaragi? But ah, actually Kisaragi (Eriko Sato, Funuke: Show Some Love, You Losers!, Carved) is also Cutie Honey, super-powered crime fighter, able to disguise her appearance under hundreds of, well… rather familiar looking faces as it happens.

With high camp style and a ‘Cutie… Flash’, Honey dispatches the villains, as long as she’s fuelled up on junk food, but even superheroes need allies, cue No-nonsense, no-fun cop Natsuko Aki (Mikako Ichikawa, Memories Of Matsuko) and super-cool reporter Seiji (Jun Murakami), on hand to help her track down Panther Claw’s well hidden base, Jill’s tower. (Yeah, mate, maybe you should look under that Tokyo Tower thing?).

Against spider villains and foes who want to serenade Honey with J-Pop before dispatching her, can she really defeat the bad guys?

Even when Cutie Honey originally came out, the thought of taking a vintage 70s anime TV series and turning it into a live-action film wasn’t exactly new –Casshern beat it to Japanese cinemas by a matter of weeks, and the overly energetic ‘making of’ documentary on the DVD admits to it being something of a trend. However, as it’s taken five years to get released in the UK, you could give the film the benefit of with the curve, if not exactly ahead of it.

Brought to the screen by legendary anime director Hideaki Anno (Neon Genesis Evangelion), the film keeps true to the source material – namely what its creator Go Nagai (who also created Devilman and UFO Robot Grendizer, and makes a guest appearance) referred to as the first shōnen manga – or to put it another way a manga aimed directly at titillating adolescent boys. In that respect, with the delectable Eriko Sato cavorting around in her underwear playing with her cat (now, don’t – that’s a cheap comment and you know it) or running around in spandex, frankly the charm goes way beyond a teenage audience.

Unlike the original manga (and an anime series overseen by Anno the same year this was released) those delights are kept pretty innocent. It’s all good, clean fun, even with the suggestion that Natsuko is smitten with Cutie herself. (Ah, yes, the old lesbian hints, eh?) The situations are utterly over-the-top, Eriko’s bubbly performance completely irrepressible. (An early film in her career, it’s interesting to contrast this with her appearance in Funuke. Though both characters are in their own ways oblivious to the real world, the complexities Eriko is now able to bring to the roles she plays are obvious.)

Easily more Powderpuff Girls than The Dark Knight, there’s more than a hint of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers to Cutie Honey. Indeed, perhaps deliberately the film seems a little cheap. Despite some inspired fight sequences which Anno makes look exactly like manga (the bits where they so that freeze frame where the background moves), he doesn’t seem to know how to shoot the real world. It’s often a little flat when it could be more saturated.

And though there are plenty of wacky characters involved, often the humour can’t quite find a level to pitch itself at, never quite making the Austin Powers yeah baby spoof it seems to be heading towards. The conclusion seems straight out of Neon Genesis, all meaningful and poetic – I mean hello, where did that come from?

Yeah, this is enjoyable, but not quite the spectacle – whether in action or comedy – that it needs to be to lift it above the many other recent manga/amine adaptations…

This month Third Window continue to release Asian films that might otherwise get missed with two ‘offbeat’ Japanese comedies…

The first, Fine, Totally Fine, An amiable, well observed comedy surrounding perpetual slacker Teruo (Yosiyosi Arakawa, Tokyo, Memories Of Matsuko, Survive Style 5), his best friend Hisanobu (Yoshinori Okada, Dark Tales Of Japan, Kamikaze Girls), and the extremely clumsy Akari (Yoshino Kimura, Blindness, Sukiyaki Western Django).

Working as a park keeper and helping out in his father’s second-hand bookshop, Teruo dreams of creating the world’s scariest haunted house, often playing practical jokes on his friends. But when his father absconds to ‘find himself’, leaving Teruo to look after the shop and reluctantly begin to act his near 30 years of age.

His childhood friend Hisanbou, has become besotted with a cleaner he employed at the local hospital. Always a nice guy, he took pity on the unbelievably ham-fisted Akari, who can’t even open a box of tissues without resorting to stabbing them with a pair of scissors. She spends much of her spare time panting pictures she’s too afraid to show anyone else, and listening to cassette tapes of the rain. When that job doesn’t work out, Hisanbou finds her a job lending Teruo a hand in the bookstore, and Akari finally lands a job where her awkwardness doesn’t hold her back… completely!

Slowly Teruo also becomes smitten with Akari, but as the pair find themselves unlikely rivals for her affection, another unexpected suitor enters the ring.

Far from deliberate on the merits of growing up and acting your age, writer-director Yosuke Fujita’s debut feature is a celebration of the everyday eccentricities, dreams and diversions that make us who we are. Teruo’s straight-laced father returns from his trip with a trendy haircut and clothes, guitar and younger girlfriend in tow, only to up take his place back running the store.

Often absurd, if occasionally a little overly cartoonish, Yosuke let’s the uncomfortable situations breathe, using the slow pace to build on the embarrassment felt by all concerned (and the audience). It’s effectively done and impressive for a first feature.

It’s greatly helped by a strong cast, all palying up their characters peculiarities well, without them becoming unbelievable. Particularly Yosiyosi Arakawa, well cast as the goofy Teruo, he brings a level of pathos and even empathy for what could so easily have been an unsympathetic role.

Sure, it’s a comedy where not much happens – but it’s extremely well done.

From a far more dysfunctional family comes another debut feature from a writer-director, Daihachi Yoshida’s Funuke: Show Some Love, You Losers!

After the tragic death of her parents in a road accident, unsuccessful actress Sumiko Wago (Eriko Sato, Cutie Honey, Carved) returns home from Tokyo to visit her teenage sister Kyomi (Aimi Satsukawa, Naoko, Arch Angels), her step brother Shinji (Masatoshi Nagase, Sakuran, Mystery Train) and new wife Machiko (Hiromi Nagasaku, Closed Diary, Hanging Garden) in their folks countryside home.

Before too long, sibling rivalries and ongoing quarrels rise to the service. Intent on bleeding the last family assets dry to fund her ailing career; Sumiko blames Kyomi for her lack of success in the big city, having been the subject of a competition-winning manga by Kyomi that made her the laughing stock of the town.

The reason Sumiko made such good material for Kyomi’s manga, however, is her pathological ambition to become an actress: including threatening her parents at knifepoint to get them to fund her, and even stabbing her step brother.

Relationships become further complicated when Shinji realises he has not gotten over his affection for Sumiko, having never consummated his marriage to Machiko. With Sumiko’s behaviour becoming no less psychotic, it seems only her obsession with writing to a director in the hope he’ll offer her a part in his new film has any calming effect on her.

However, with Sumiko back in town, it’s hard for Kyomi not to be compelled by her perfect source material to begin drawing again. That peace is soon coming to an end…

Based on a novel by Yukiko Motoya, Daihachi Yoshida’s darkly comic feature is brought to life by a strong cast, particularly Eriko – who can also be seen as the super cutesy Cutie Honey this month. Playing up to her previous sexy roles, Eriko is compelling as a disarmingly deranged menace, dropping her vacant charm to show just how much of a monster even the most beautiful can be. Deservingly Eriko won an award for her performance at the Yokohama Film Festival in 2008 (in fact the film is laden with awards from festivals over the world).

Her performance echoes that of Bette Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, and therein lies part of the problem with the tone of the film: the intimidation she puts her own sister through are on much the same level as what Davis’ character herself puts her sister Crawford through in Baby Jane. It’s more horror than comedy, and somehow some of the more absurdly comic elements just don’t mix with it.

Another element that doesn’t ring true – and this may be a fault of the source material – is the unbelievable naivety and cheeriness of Machiko, or perhaps it’s just that even in the films closing stages this character is still seen as a figure of fun and derision, so undeserving of compassion or happiness. Again, the cartoonish pitch of some elements fight with the very real, and all but deadly rivalry between the two sisters. (Perhaps I feel that way because she’s really the most sympathetic character in the film?)

That’s not to suggest Daihachi’s first film isn’t successful. It’s an intriguing, well-played look at one most seriously messed up family. Oddly the telling dénouement, that both sisters rely on each other for their careers (or at least will in the future), is underplayed.

Fine, Totally Fine and Funuke: Show Some Love, You Losers! are released by Third Window Films on 11 May. Funuke: Show Some Love, You Losers! is also currently playing at London’s ICA cinema until Sunday 10th May, with additional screenings on weekend of 16th and 17th May.

Shot back-to-back with Ashes Of Time and sharing much of the same cast, the stars get to let their hair down in a very different take on the same Louis Cha novel…

Set in the ‘wild youth’ of Louis Cha main characters from his novel Eagle Shooting Heroes, this shares the same cast, crew and even character names as Ashes, but as a broad comedy played it could hardly be more distant.

The dastardly Ouyang Feng (this time played by Tony Leung Chiu-wai) attempts to usurp the kingdom from the Princess (Brigitte Lin). The only thing that can save it, she must find and learn the Book Of Yin. But who can she trust…?

Directed and scripted by Jeff Lau, the co-founder of Jet Tone productions with Wong Kar-wai, The Eagle Shooting Heroes seemed a neat way to make the most of a great cast and crew being put through there paces on Kar-wai’s own Ashes Of Time. Indeed, despite being shot back-to-back with Ashes, it still managed to get released a year before it. A rather telling footnote to Kar-wai’s troubled production, he even managed to direct and release Chungking Express – one of his best and most-loved films – before Ashes was completed.

With the current crop of stern, mainly humourless wu xia movies, it’s easy to get caught up in the bravado sleeve notes and see this as an enjoyable spoof of the genre – but let’s clear this up, the films of the late 80s and early 90s were by no means as earnest. The tone had been set by Ching Siu-tung’s enormously successful A Chinese Ghost Story, starring Leslie Cheung and Joey Wang, with dazzling if bizarre set pieces of action, horror movie references (particularly The Evil Dead) and knowing in jokes. At the height of the genre’s popularity, when films like Swordsman II, New Dragon Inn and Mr. Vampire were amongst the most popular films of the genre, few films took themselves that seriously.

In fact, apart from Ashes Of Time, it wasn’t until Ang Lee successfully rebooted the wu xia film genre with Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon that the more humourless, overly melodramatic (and sometimes unrelentingly hysterical) films of today were born. Even back in the late 80s they were something of a target, parodied (in passing) courtesy of another film starring Leslie Cheung, the classic (and well-worthy of a proper UK/US release) Rouge.

Wong Kar-wai and Jeff Lau had already set the scene with an earlier adaptation of a Louis Cha work, Saviour Of The Soul. A very loose rendering of the second Eagle Shooting Heroes novel, know as The Return Of The Condor Heroes in the west, Kar-wai and Lau’s version updates the action to modern day, but leaves all the heroic martial arts and magic in place. (Even the literal translation of the films title is ‘91 God-Eagle-Hero-Couple.) Mixing action, violence and slapstick, the tone of the film seems often messy, and definitely incongruous with Kar-wai’s better-known work – but hell, can’t the guy have a little fun sometimes?

If Ashes Of Time is a homage to the martial arts novels Kar-wai and Lau grew up with, then The Eagle Shooting Heroes is more of an ode to the films of the 60s, particularly the Shaw Brothers, complete with over-the-top (though expertly choreographed) fight sequences by Sammo Hung, bright gaudy costumes and sets, and musical numbers. Like the dazzling rooftop fight sequence neatly makes fun of such scenes in Shaw Brothers films (and in later movies like Yuen Woo-ping’s Iron Monkey) with its utter outrageousness.

The humour is typically broad – as Cantonese comedies usually are – often descending into farce, running in and out of but it’s fun to see the crème of Hong Kong actors hamming it up. (No doubt letting off steam from their gruelling Ashes shoot, this may well have given them the emotional energy to be so restrained in Kar-wai’s film.)

Leslie Cheung and Joey Wang (who’s scenes were cut from Ashes) are particularly entertaining as the martial arts couple, performing Flirting Eyes and Mushy Love Sword Styles. There’s a Match Of The Day reference (complete with the theme tune) with Tony Leung Ka-fai’s head as a football. (Don’t ask!) Carina Lau takes a more central role the frankly confused Master Zhou, leader of a martial arts school. Maggie Cheung, Veronica Yip and Kenny Bee (who appeared in Saviour Of The Soul) also appear. And Jacky Cheung? Well he appears as Hong Qigong again, even wearing much the same costume.

It’s all pretty silly, but rather fun – and a million miles away from Ashes Of Time…

Based on true events in 1979, director Im Sang-soo’s political satire on the last hours of South Korean President Park Chung-hee is a biting black comedy…

In the last hours of excess for President Park Chung-hee’s leadership, an assassination is being plotted. KCIA Director Kim (Baek Yun-shik, Save the Green Planet!) is consumed by a disgust of his nation and his president’s appetites for young females, excessive drinking and Japanese pop music to the extent that it’s ruining his health.

At the latest alcohol-fuelled banquet at a KCIA safehouse, Kim, his Chief Agent Ju (Han Suk-kyu, Shiri, A Bloody Aria, Eye For An Eye, Tell Me Something) and his most trusted subordinates hatch a plan to kill the president and his closest, and most corrupt, advisers. Of course, there’s no way they can walk away from a deed this significant, is there?

New label Third Window continues to release Asian films that might otherwise get overlooked, and this political satire from director Im Sang-soo is no exception. Sang-soo spares no time depicting a government, overblown on it’s excesses, oblivious to public opinion and utterly corrupt.

Even so long after his passing, it’s not surprising his depiction of the former president was going to be controversial. Portrayed as squalid and repulsive, with no redeeming facets at all, Park’s son Ji-man brought a suit against the film, which ended up requiring a cut for both the national and internationally run theatrical version. Mainly documentary footage, eventually the ruling was overturned and the film shown here is in its complete, unabridged form.

As the assassination attempt unfolds, and things get pretty messy and unpleasant, that darkly played, (dare I say it) almost typically Korean black humour comes to the fore. The ungainly efforts of Kim’s men to subdue the President’s bodyguards, as far from the precision of Hollywood or Hong Kong action as possible, brings to mind many Korean works. Kim Jee-woon’s The Quiet Family, for instance, or Park Chan-wook’s grisly final act to Lady Vengeance are but two of many examples.

It also reminds the feeble attempt of the eponymous assassin in Chen Kaige’s The Emperor and the Assassin, having spent most of the film misleading the audience into thinking that he had some superhuman power.

Comparisons to Stanley Kubrick’s Dr. Strangelove are fair, but in many respects The Last President’s Bang has much more in common with the more politicised films of the early 70s, Alan J. Pakula’s All The Presidents Men or Robert Altman’s MASH. There’s a futility to the leads actions, a knowing pessimism that their actions can ever truly make a difference. Somehow, through the distance in time the film lacks the resonance it may have had, say, 15 years ago.

Indeed, the original Korean title for the film comes from the song The Person Of Those Days, sung by Shim Su-bong who allegedly sang for the President that night. Though she always denied it, the song has become synonymous with those events. Here the West (and probably even with a younger Korean audience) miss out on much of the context of the film. I wish I knew more about the relevance of these events and the effect they had in South Korea. (Though that distance has no doubt allowed Sang-soo to take more liberties with the events.)

An intelligent, funny and often bloody thriller.

Slight but charming comedy about a young woman intent on spicing up her life as a spy…

Trapped in a mundane existence, Suzume ‘Sparrow’ Katakura (Juri Ueno, Summer Time Machine Blues, Child by Children) is a very ordinary young woman living a very ordinary life. Her husband, posted overseas, only calls to check she’s feeding their pet turtle. She envies her best friend ‘Peacock’ for being a free spirit, and wishes she could be in some way special.

Her world is turned upside down when she quite by chance comes across an tiny advertisement recruiting spies. When she contacts the number on the ad she find an equally innocuous couple that claim to be ‘sleepers’ for a foreign land. Impressed by her extraordinary ‘ordinariness’ they enrol her as a member of their spies.

Soon her daily routine becomes the most exciting thing in the world, until she thinks too hard about remaining unnoticed by all – just what exactly is normal? And unknown to the spies, the authorities are beginning to close in their whereabouts.

Turtles Are Surprisingly Fast Swimmers starts off well, with director Miki Satoshi building a small but perfectly formed world of eccentric characters around our over-imaginative lead. Reminiscent of Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s Amelie or Wisit Sasanatieng’s Citizen Dog, he cuts a fine line between touching quirkiness and out-and-out slapstick. But then the line breaks, and afraid of changing the general tone and allowing the film to truly resonate with its audience, Satoshi seems to lose his way.

It’s like he just doesn’t know where to go next with the pretext of the film and it’s cast. Is it because if our leads are truly sleepers, then things would become most unpleasant, and that would change the whole tone of the movie? Instead, Satoshi leads us to a rather unsatisfying conclusion, never really answering our questions about the couple and their mysterious employer. Nor does he significantly evolve our hero Sparrow at the end.

Though Turtles echoes the films of peers like Tetsuya Nakashima, director of Kamikaze Girls and Memories Of Matsuko, it lacks the completeness and energetic if somewhat overwhelming technical style. It’s highly enjoyable, but somehow the parts just don’t quite connect at the end. What could well have been a powerful – if wonderfully underplayed – comment about conformity, seemingly appropriate for a Japanese film, instead falls rather flat.