Scrap Heaven, Sang-il Lee
Tekkonkinkreet, Michael Arias
Su-ki-da, Hiroshi Ishikawa
The Professor and his Beloved Equation, Takashi Koizumi
Ping Pong, Fumihiko Sori
Brothers, Susanne Bier
Princes and Princesses, Michel Ocelot
Divided We Fall, Jan Hrebejk
Aimless Bullet (Obaltan, 1960), Hyun Mok Yoo
The Goldberg Variations (Glenn Gould), Bruno Monsaingeon
They were having a sale on Japanese films and animation this week, so I picked up a bunch. All are distributed by Wide Media Korea and were under $10/each (except for Tekkon Kinkreet—around $15).
The only of one of the live-action Japanese films I’ve watched so far, Sukida, is one of the worst, self-indulgent, paralyzingly dull pieces of shit I’ve sat through in a while.
I’d never heard of Michel Ocelot until Todd Brown posted something last month about a collection of Ocelot’s early work, so I thought I’d give him a shot. It looks as though these delightful fairy tales were all made for television, and they are all done in silhouette. Language options - French, Korean. I guess I prefer the more irreverential treatment of the Fractured Fairy Tales I watched as a kid.
Tekkonkinkreet was a nihilistic tale about two young boys trying to survive in a post-apocalyptic Disney-fied Japan ruled by yakuza. Can’t say I enjoyed the film, but it had very impressive animation throughout and I was actually able to follow a STORY.
Aimless Bullet is supposed to be one of the most important films from the so-called “golden age” of Korean cinema (it came out the same year as “Hanyo”, more popularly known as The Housewife). But guess what— one is a masterpiece, while the other is not. A very heavy-going message film. Had I paid more than $3 or $4 for the DVD, I would have been REALLY disappointed.
Divided We Fall, the 2000 Academy Award-nominated film about a Czech couple who hides a Jew during the German occupation, adds nothing to the glutted catalogue of similar WWII stories. Safely avoided.
While Bach is by no means my favorite composer, and his Goldberg Variations are by no means the masterpiece some would claim, it is fascinating to watch as Candadian pianist Glenn Gould performs the work he would become most closely identified with in the studio shortly before his untimely death at the age of 50. For me, Gould damaged a number of works with his eccentricities of touch, tone and tempo (and his singing), but there is no denying his genius. Longtime friend and director Monsaingeon allows us to see this fascinating mind at work.
