Plan 75; or, The Death of Society It’s something I should think about doing for my grandchildren. Plan 75 is one of those films that I really wanted to watch as soon as the official trailer dropped online. However, I was afraid that I won’t have the ability to do so because Chie Hayakawa’s movie is kind of a low-profile production that started to slowly gain traction through film festivals. Thankfully, I watched Plan 75 on the big screen in my own country because a local distributor picked up the rights for the film.
Language: JapaneseOriginal Title: PLAN 75 Runtime: 113 min
Synopsis In view of the surplus of the elderly population, which has a negative influence on the economy of Japan, the government implemented a special bill called “Plan 75”. It enables voluntary suicide for citizens aged 75 and over. We follow the development of the plan through the perspectives of three people: Mishi Kakutani (Chieko Baisho), an elderly hotel worker who loses her job; Himoru Okabe (Hayato Isomura), an administrative worker who promotes the plan; and Maria (Stefanie Arianne), a staff member at a facility where the suicides are carried out.
The Gift of Life Well, if you suffer from Thanatophobia or you can’t stand the topic of death, then Plan 75 is not a movie for you. This is not to say, however, that the movie is some kind of a dark thriller or horror. On the contrary, the power of Plan 75 stems from a mundane approach to the subject matter. It is not an apocalypse, not a war against humanity. The Japanese society accepts the outrageous political plan because herd mentality always wins against individual thinking. In fact, the individual has to conform and sacrifice himself or herself for the good of the group.
The more I think about the film, the more I find it disturbing. Chie Hayakawa insightfully examines the aforementioned dilemma through the main characters of the unfolding drama. The director shows that not only the elderly citizens are the victims of the situation, but also the younger generations who are taught fake empathy when interacting with prospective participants of Plan 75.
With regard to performances, allow me to say that being able to see the legendary Cheiko Baisho on the big screen, in a near-empty theatre room, was a profound experience for me. She really carried the film with her performance and I can’t imagine any other classic Japanese actress in the role of a woman who does not give up on hope. Hayato Isomura and Stefanie Arianne really shine in the supporting roles and the subplots of their characters really complement the main message of the film. Yuumi Kawai also appears as Yoko, a phone guide of Baisho’s character, but her screen time is limited to barely two scenes.
Recommendations If you have the ability to watch the film legally where you live, then I encourage you to check out Plan 75. It was distributed in Poland by Aurora Films. I sincerely hope that the film will also receive a release on physical media outside of Japan.
Overall score: 8/10
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Well, here it is. Nobody wanted it, and I didn’t plan on writing this post at all, but this is the second part of my original ramble which was posted a little over three months ago. This “sequel” of sorts came about in the light of my recent observations as well as encouragement from Rhythm Zaveri, a member of the admin panel of the Asian Cinema Enthusiastic group and a true passionate of Asian movies (you can check out the abundance of his reviews right here). Originally, I wanted to make this post directly on the facebook group, but I thought it would be too general in view of the guidelines, so I am sharing this text on the blog. Contrary to the first part of my editorial, where I talked about the challenges of writing, I would like to focus in the herein piece on the follies of film criticism. It all stemmed from a loose conversation I had at work when I was chatting with a fellow teacher and the conversation turned to foreign languages. She said that in order to use the foreign language one has to continuously repeat the grammar and vocab over and over again, so as not to forget all that jazz. I disagreed and replied that the usage of foreign language is not about mindless repetition, but active practice. Then, I provided the example of my blog which I run in English, even though I am not a native speaker of that language. However, writing in English allows me to actively engage with the language on a nearly daily basis. The fellow teacher nodded trying to process what I said to her and all of a sudden blurted out, “You write reviews, so you’re like a movie critic, right?”
I know she did not mean anything negative with that kind of question, but at that moment I really felt as if I got thrown under a speeding bus. I politely explained that I am more of a movie enthusiast than a professional critic, and ended the conversation on that note. Looking back at that chat in retrospect, it was not the implication in that inquiry that hurt me, but my own perception of the matter because I absolutely do not regard myself as a film critic. What does it mean to be a film critic, anyway? We live in the times when film criticism is already a branch of academia with its rich toolkit of deconstructive approaches (formalism, structuralism, psychoanalysis, etc.). Back in the old days, in the era of VHS, I was under the impression that a film critic is basically a journalist who works for a magazine, writes reviews, and even provides a recommendation tagline that is used on the front cover of a film. In fact, this is how the job originated in the United States, but throughout the decades it has gained a more refined connotation. The conventional critic stopped perceiving himself (or herself) as an ordinary writer and transformed into a self-proclaimed voice that defines the cultural taste of the masses. In my opinion, this transformation took centerstage in the 1990s with the increasing availability of movie magazines outside of the United States and the advent of special talk shows featuring either movie experts (see Alex Cox) or movie critics (see Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel).
It was not until the digital age, however, that the profession really underwent a change. Field-specific websites and YouTube pushed out traditional media and really opened the way for amateurs to play up the great critical game. Arguably, the best examples illustrating this are personas of the Nostalgia Critic and Angry Video Game Nerd who in the mid 2000s found their niche by means of making funny, satirical, out-of-the box reviews. Nevertheless, there are still people out there who never caught the entertainment bug like the aforementioned Youtubers, and strive to be regarded as traditional film critics. Nevertheless, what is the cost of attaining this mythical seal of recognition that is so precious to them? If you want to become a professional film critic, you need to be well-versed in film studies and film history in general. You need to go deeper, beyond the iceberg of Julia Kristeva’s intertextuality, straight down the rabbit hole of the language of film. It is a very hard thing to do but not impossible. Most importantly, the real film critic is not a nitpicker, but a person who tries to view the film objectively as a work of art in spite of the fact that the very act of providing your opinion is subjective indeed. The best examples of film critics in my book who fulfil the abovementioned criteria are Mark Kermode, Tomasz Raczek, and Peter Travers.
Still, there are some people out there (some but not many) who wish to cut corners and become critics without having necessary knowledge. I have met a few such individuals in my life, and the golden rule they follow is to latch onto either a group of people with necessary expertise (professional website) or a special event that gives them access to the high entertainment world (for instance, film festivals). Such an individual followed me out of the blue on social media some time ago. I just shook my head in pity and made a look like The Third World Skeptical Kid when I flicked through that person’s profile. The person in question is roughly the same age as I am, got their PhD in culture studies (mine was in literary studies), appeared on a podcast (same as me), runs a SNS page with reviews (I run my blog), but he desperately stylises himself to be a film critic by advertising himself as team member of a festival event and by writing pompous, and slightly pretentious stuff on Asian movies.
Well, if you seek validation on social media in such a way, then it is not my business to interfere. The bottomline I am getting at with this editorial is as follows: there is a fine line of difference between a film critic and a film enthusiast, at least in my opinion. I consider myself to be a member of the latter category. I just run my blog and share my loose thoughts on film with you all. I may get intertextual at times, I may provide my personal analysis of a given film, but I never regard my opinions as definite, spellbinding, or setting the trends. I will never dare to cross over into the former domain because it is a real job, a real craftsmanship, and a real responsibility in front of many people. Unfortunately, some are unaware of this.
All in all, If I ever happen to write pieces like “Traces of Loneliness and Phallocentrism in the Films of Wong Kar Wai” or “Oppression of the Nationalist Patriarchy in Hiroshi Shimizu’s Japanese Girls at the Harbor (1933),” the please do know that I have completely lost my grip on reality upon publishing these. Still again, if the titles I came up with inspired you, then you have my blessing to write these academic essays (if you haven’t done so already). I hope that I managed to get my message across. If not, then I invite you to read the conclusion of the first past of my editorial which gives you the whole thing in a nutshell. We are all on our personal cinema journeys, and I wish you best of luck with yours. Thank you for reading.
Image Sources
As Tears Go By (1988),
The Naked Director (2019),
Fireworks (1997),
Beloved (2022),
Tokusatsu Gagaga (2019),
A Confucian Confusion (1994),
As Tears Go By (1988),
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A Night in Nude; or, Life on Lease Whatever it is, we do it for you, so you don’t have to do it. The late Takashi Ishii is one of the few Japanese directors that never won me over, mainly because of the fact that the genre he specialises in was never right up my alley. Erotic crime thrillers and straight up exploitation flicks are just too much for me, but I decided to give the director a chance when I found out about A Night in Nude, starring one of my fave veteran actors out there: Naoto Takenaka.
Release Info
Directed by: Takashi IshiiStarring: Naoto Takenaka, Kimiko Yo, Kippei Shiina
Language: JapaneseOriginal Title: ヌードの夜 Runtime: 110 min
Synopsis Jiro (Naoto Takenaka) is a guy for hire. He basically serves as a stand-in at events which nobody wants to attend, but he will do any kind of job for money. One day, his agency is visited by a woman called Nami Tsuchiya (Kimiko Yo). She hires Jiro to be her tour guide in Tokyo. The next day, Jiro receives a phone call instructing him to visit Nami’s room in a hotel and clean it up. When Jiro arrives, he discovers that there is a dead body in a bathtub…
The Days of Being Prosperous A Night in Nude is, thankfully, more of a crime flick than pinku production; however, it does contain a fair share of NSFW sequences, especially in the third act. On the whole, the movie feels very neo-noir with its dense atmosphere, night scenes, and just breathtaking cinematography that captured the image of post-Bubble Japan. You could literally frame all the master shots from the film and hang them on your wall.
Come to think of it, the story of A Night in Nude is a social commentary on the situation of Japan in the 1990s. Jiro is a man without a purpose who lives in a country that desperately wants to keep up appearances of glamour and lavish lifestyle, but the whole thing is an illusion because they are living on a lease, borrowing stuff rather than paying for it.
This is very much the case with femme fatale of the picture, Nami, who desperately tries to breakaway from the roots in poverty and criminal underworld to finally become a respectable member of the fake society. However, what she does in order to fulfil her dream only consumes her morality, in a very Dostoevsky-like manner.
With regard to performances, it is a weird experience for me watching young Naoto Takenaka in action, but he effortlessly portrays a sympathetic guy who is knee-deep in an affair that is beyond his professional expertise. Kimiko Yo is absolutely outstanding in the role of a tragic woman who commits a crime. It is a real shame that this actress gets mainly supporting roles nowadays. Kippei Shiina is, unfortunately, unconvincing as a homosexual yakuza sidekick. Jinpachi Nezu is okay as the villain of the picture, but his screen time is limited.
Recommendations All things considered, I do not regret watching this film. It was an interesting experience indeed, but I think the movie would have been better had the last 20 minutes got cut. Sadly, this final section of the film only washes over a satisfying resolution and provides only the shock value. Then again, cinematography in the film is just beautiful. Interestingly, Ishii made a sequel to this film 17 years later called A Night in Nude: Salvation (2010). So I may give it a try, just to see my boy Naoto Takenaka in noir action again.
Overall score: 7/10
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Well, I realise I am really late to the party, but as they say, better late than never. Of course, I have been aware of the existence of Zeiram ever since a colleague recommended the film and its sequel after my enthusiastic response to Yukito Kishiro’s Gunnm/Battle Angel Alita. However, I was never in the right mood to sit down and watch (what seemed to be) yet another standard Tokusatsu production of the 1990s. Thankfully, I changed my sentiment and decided to give the movies a chance after reading a wonderful set of reviews penned by Rise from Phoenix Talks Pop Culture Japan. It is not my intention to rework the wheel and repeat what she did in the form of movie reviews, so allow me to share my perspective on the Zeiram franchise in this one concise editorial. At the same time, I wholeheartedly invite you to read her blog posts as well.
Now that we have the introduction part off the agenda, it is time for a brief summary of what the heck Zeiram is about for readers unfamiliar with the series. Basically, the titular Zeiram is a gruesome monster that can be best described as an amalgam of good-old Terminator and tongue-swirling Xenomorph. Don’t let its traditional appearance from the Edo period fool you, because Zeiram is a perfect biological weapon that can clone any organism it comes in contact with. The monster’s bloody trail paved with corpses is cautiously followed by Iria (Yuko Moriyama), an intergalactic bounty hunter. Iria and her cybernetic partner Bob (voiced by Masakazu Handa) await Zeiram’s arrival on Earth. In order to limit potential casualties, Iria creates an artificial dimension known the Zone in which she entraps Zeiram; however, two unsuspecting electricians, Teppei (Kunihiro Ida) and Kamiya (Yukijiro Hotaru), end up getting entangled in the otherworldly showdown, which causes further hassle for Iria. On the basis of the provided synopsis, one would think that Zeiram (1991) is an adaptation of pre-existing manga or anime, but the movie is a totally original creation by Tokusatsu enthusiast Keita Amemiya, who honed his filmmaking craft in terms of directing, writing, and designing on the sets of Chojin Sentai Jetman, Kyoryu Sentai Zyuranger, and Kamen Rider. Actually, a six-episode OVA was made on the wave of the film’s popularity, but more on that later.
The first Zeiram movie is like a crossover between survival horror and sci-fi adventure comedy. Many viewers out there describe it as a dark riff on Super Sentai/Power Rangers, but to me Zeiram has more in common with the classic Ultraman as well as the aforementioned Battle Angel Alita. My reasoning behind this stems from the film’s minimalist approach. You have to bear in mind that it was a passion project made on a tight budget; hence, we don’t get over-the-top CGI action done in generic Hollywood style. What we get, however, is a classic Toku spectacle with in-camera effects, rotoscope animation, and composite shots. This is a classic fun ride at its finest and a true labour of love made by Amemiya who had a clear vision of what he was going for.
What is more, I also have to praise the director because (unlike Shinya Tsukamoto or Koji Shiraishi) he never went full gore in terms of violent action. Zeiram, in spite of numerous mindblowing transformations of the titular creature, never veers off the P-13 territory, so the most demanding viewers may feel disappointed, but the film compensates that with thrilling stunts and loveable characters. Firstly, let’s talk about Iria the bounty hunter, brilliantly played by Yuko Moriyama. She is tough, she has the looks, but she is not kawaii. In fact, Iria is the antithesis of a typical Tokusatsu heroine who is frequently played by an idol and objectified on camera. With her eyes and reserved demeanour Iria oozes such confidence and equanimity that she effortlessly gives Ellen Ripley and Sarah Connor a run for their money. Hideaki Anno and Shinji Huguchi, instead of drooling over Masami Nagasawa’s legs, should start taking notes on how to create a truly strong female character.
Secondly, we have sidekicks. Again, many modern-day viewers complain that the humour generated by Teppei and Kamiya does not work. Personally, I think that scared-to-death blue collar workers on the run from a walking biological warfare is exactly what the film needed. I can’t help but agree with a letterboxd remark that the two guys give off the vibe of Abbott and Costello meet the Thing. On top of this, they have insane teamwork chemistry with Iria in the film’s bombastic finale. Clearly, at this point of the editorial, you can tell that the Zeiram movie stole my heart. It is exactly the type of light entertainment I needed to kick off summertime, and I am very happy I got myself round to check it out. The same, however, cannot be said about the sequel: Zeiram 2 (1994).
The follow-up flick suffers from the same ailment that plagues many sequels out there. That is to say, it tries to be as awesome as the original, but also twice as loud, twice as explosive, twice as action-packed. Keita Amemiya evidently tried to “up the ante” for lack of a better term, but to me, Zeiram 2 is a major step down. Sure, it has great fights and outstanding special effects, but this time we get more bounty hunters, more jumping in and out of the Zone, more blood, and even animal cruelty, which is a major NO for me in such types of films. In this regard, Zeiram 2 has more in common with Mad Max 2: Road Warrior than with the original Zeiram. In addition, I appreciate the fact that all of the main actors reprise their roles in the sequel, but the way they act in the film leaves a lot to be desired. Kamiya collaborates with Bob (Kazuhiko Inoue) for a change, which is a nice touch; Teppei is basically lost in the Zone for the majority of the film, and Iria has to single-handedly save her favourite electricians while looking for an artefact straight out of Indiana Jones movie and being constantly interrupted by a rival bounty hunter Fujikuro (SABU) and (of course) upgraded Zeiram. It is not until the finale when the gang is reunited, but the feels are no longer as breathtaking as in the previous outing.
Ultimately, Zeiram 2 is an okay movie in my opinion. Amemiya tried to be more inventive this time while trying to repeat what worked in the first part. The sequel has clearly great production value because it was made on a bigger budget, but all the action, production design, and special effects did not make me love it. The overall violence should have been slightly ironed out, and the main heroes should have been given more agency in the story. Last but least, we arrive at the OVA, Iria: Zeiram the Animation, which was also released in 1994, but without Amemiya’s creative input. This show is often labelled as a prequel to what is presented in the movies, but I personally believe that OVA should not be regarded in such a way. At best, it is a remake that strives to retell the Zeiram shenanigans in a different medium and for a completely different target audience. The whole franchise has come full circle at this point and we finally see Iria as an anime heroine (who is more than kawaii, rest assured). However, her origin story is inextricably linked to Zeiram, which is fine in the context of the show because the creators wanted to feature the titular creature in every episode, but this kind of prequel-making in the style of Ridley Scott only ruins the awesomeness of live-action Iria who undoubtedly must have had many more bounty-hunting adventure apart from just fighting Zeiram all her life.
Consequently, it is best to treat OVA as a separate entity, and I am very glad that I saved it for the end of my Zeiram marathon because had I watched before the films, it would have ruined my perception of Iria for sure. Well, I suspect that this works the other way round and the movies ruin the OVA for anime enthusiasts, but this is the kind of vicious circle that has to be broken by your own preferences. Personally, I like the movies more, and specifically the first movie. Check out Zeiram if you can because it is totally worth it: for the story, for the awesome monster, for the kick-ass girl with a gun. My thanks again go to Rise for her blog posts that encouraged me to embark on this sci-fi journey. Peace out to you all and see you around in the Zone.
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Audition; or, Love, Unconditionally Only pain and suffering will make you realise who you are. Takashi Miike’s Audition is one of those rare J-Horror films which I never thought would be discussed on this blog. As some of the readers already know, I am not a fan of the horror genre in general, but I decided to give this film a chance in view of my recent reinvigoration of interest in the works of Ryu Murakami. In view of the fact that Audition remains to date the most popular adaptation of Murakami’s famous novel, I finally caved in and I am sharing my thoughts on it.
Release Info
Directed by: Takashi MiikeStarring: Ryo Ishibashi, Eihi Shiina, Jun Kunimura
Language: JapaneseOriginal Title: オーディション Runtime: 115 min
Synopsis Shigeharu Aoyama (Ryo Ishibashi) is a TV producer who lost his wife seven years ago. His teenage son encourages Aoyama to get married again. The problem is that Aoyama has trouble finding the new other half. His colleague at work comes up with an idea to set up an audition call for a new movie. Out of the many women who compete to get the leading role, Aoyama choses a lady whom he finds the most intriguing, Asami Yamazaki (Eihi Shiina).
Too Many Secrets Like Hideo Nakata’s Ring (1998) or Kinji Fukasaku’s Battle Royale (2000), Audition is yet another classic instance of Japanese Horror that is continuously talked about and discussed among the academics. Personally, I regard this movie not so much as a horror (albeit it has a substantial amount of explicit content), but as a psychological thriller that throws shade at romance movies.
If anything, the first half of Audition feels like a parody of popular rom-coms penned by Richard Curtis. Such types of shugary sweet storylines about an honest guy and a fair lady finding true love through comedy-charged shenanigans only condition the viewers to repeat such patterns in real life, but the truth is that these do not work at all. In the case of Audition, they do not work either because the movie is not about happy-go-lucky cheerfulness, but about suffering: how traumatic events mess up our personalities.
Director Takashi Miike and cinematographer Hideo Yamamoto really brought to life this claustrophobic feeling of nihilism tainted by nostalgia for the Showa era that accompanies Ryu Murakami’s novels. Warm lighting in indoor locations and especially the usage of red colour really enhance the aspect of Aoyama’s depravation (the whole audition gig), but also of his victimhood whenever he interacts with Asami.
I apologise because I can’t help but cross over into the territory of deconstructing the film, but allow me to say that I regard the third act as pretty clear and straightforward. Asami was the childhood victim of her relatives, which subsequently turned her into a monster. Aoyama, on the other hand, never quite knew what he wanted as a man because he was essentially woman-less for a long time. The whole torture sequence is, in my opinion, Miike’s manifesto against pornography. What leads me to such an assumption are the positions of the characters in the scene, and specific POV shots that are very reminiscent of JAV productions. In consequence, what seems to be every man’s dream (being overpowered by a beautiful woman) turns out to be Aoyama’s worst nightmare.
With regard to performances, Ryo Ishibashi gives a compelling and sincere portrayal of Aoyama. I mainly know the actor from dramas, but he really carried the picture with his performance. As for Eihi Shiina as Asami, she was truly menacing as the love interest. The legendary Jun Kunimura deserves a mention because he plays a supporting role of a good guy in the film, and his character actually does not get killed off for a change.
Recommendations All things considered, Audition is not a movie for the faint-hearted, but if you enjoy the filmography of Takashi Miike, the J-Horror genre in general, or at the very least the bizarre mind of Ryu Murakami, then you should watch this film. Where I live, it was issued on DVD by GutekFilm distribution label.
Overall score: 7/10
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