January Scouting: Usami Takashi

22, played for Bayern Munich in the Champions' League as a teenager, not afraid of a shot...go annnnnnnnnnnnnn...

Every 14 Days...(24)

The Double (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)

Suppose I should read some Dostoyevsky in my life. Especially when it's two for £3.99.

With 'The Double' recently made into a film by Mr. Gadget Man himself, Richard Ayoade, I thought this would be a good place to start. Maybe it wasn't. The film met mixed reviews, as did the original story itself, even from the man himself.

A civil servant is one day shocked to find a 'double' of himself now working at his office, though the polar opposite to many of his negative traits. Soon, the 'original' finds himself behind his clone in work and social life, leading to a bitter conflict and an inevitable decent into madness.

The idea is a strong one, though the execution is maybe not always the best, not always a great read, though conveys the frustration, anger and madness that the 'double' creates in the story's hero. The humour in the writing is also good, with long-winded repeating of phrase. But towards the story's conclusions, you felt perhaps more could have been done with the idea.  

Days to read: 18

Days per book: 15.0

The Last Holiday (Gil Scott-Heron)

Gil Scott-Heron is a poet, and I know it. As one of the unofficial godfathers of rap, he is a master of words, and so I expect nothing less from his memoir. But as a memoir, this is a little confused. Released posthumously, it was always going to be more a sum of parts rather than a whole, and the supposed focus is not always apparent.

The idea was for it to focus around his part in Stevie Wonder's 'Hotter than July' tour in the early Eighties - a tour promoting Martin Luther King's birthday being made a national holiday - but before he could get there, he chose to tell the story of how he got to be there first. This results in the book essentially being an out-and-out autobiography up to a certain point in his life, but then sees several leaps in time over the next thirty years.

So, this may not necessarily be as it's billed, but this is jazz, baby. His writing doesn't need any structure, with his lists of adjectives flowing poetically off the page. There are indeed lots of poetry breaks throughout, almost as summations of the moment, like a haiku, but within the main body the words flow like a song.

This makes for a joyful read about his upbringing, his father who played or Celtic and the start of both his writing and music careers, edited and cobbled together for your listening pleasure.

Days to read: 19

Days per book: 15.0

The Strange Library (Haruki Murakami)

'The Strange Library' isn't really a new Murakami work, being that it dates from Japan in 1982, released as a short story of a different name. But it has now made its way to English translation, released as a illustrated children's book...which is probably why it was so quick for me to read, being that it is actually a book aimed at my reading level.

A young boy enters a library, returning some books, wanting to take out some more. He is sent to a strange reading room, where his reading of books is demanded by a strange old man, and of course, a sheep man - a Murakami favourite. Looked away and forced to read as much as possible about Ottoman Empire tax collecting, he worries that his mother will wonder why he has not returned home in time for dinner.

This book is less about its story, however, and more about the English translation which illustrates the story using images from The London Library and other collections. This make it more of a strange art piece than children's short story, making it interesting to look at, though the story flies by the images with ease.

Days to read: 1

Days per book: 14.9

Notes from Underground (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)

Yay! Hundredth book spectacular! So, it's just over four years since I started this pointless experiment. By now, I should have reached a little over one hundred books read. I'm a little off that target, having just reached one hundred exactly.

Not exactly a celebratory piece to mark the moment, 'Notes from underground' is a dark read about a middle-aged man, made bitter by the modern world, living underground providing us with a lecture as to the world's wrongs, before we are shown examples from his earlier life of experiences that led him to where he now resides.

The story is in two clear halves: the first a long, rambling critique of society; the second stories from his younger life. The first half proves a difficult read, with long rants in hard to digest chunks, though provides some interesting insights throughout. The book's second half is both an easier read and brings it back to life, as I felt myself often drifting into the depths of lost concentration in the first half. Here we see stories and characters brought in - and they are welcome - working as examples of the narrator's decent into the man he has now become, trapped in a St Petersburg basement.

This is an interesting read, an at-time-difficult read, but ultimately rewarding one, providing a criticism of early modernist society.

Here's to the next hundred...urgh...

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 14.9

The Grandmaster

The last time the great Wong Kar-wai released a feature-length film was back in 2007 - only his second film in seven years - and I wish he hadn't bothered. 'My Blueberry Nights' just annoyed me from start to finish. While, as with any Wong film, it looked good, his brush with Hollywood dragged, with bland music and even more bland characters, making his usual themes and styles seem pretentious. After watching it, I came away almost liking Jude Law for bringing the only it of charisma to the film, but also wondering if all of his films had been like this, I just didn't notice because of the language barrier.

After many rumoured English-language films, his next feature-length work is a return to Hong Kong (eventually), a reunion with his foremost leading man, Tony Leung Chiu-wai, and a return to his brief flirts with kung-fu.

'The Grandmaster' is the often told story of Ip Man, the legendary kung-fu master of wing chun and mentor of Bruce Lee. Wong focuses on the war years of his life and his relationship with Gong Er, played by Zhang Ziyi. The film, therefore, is a blend of Wong's love and whimsy mixed with kung-fu fighting.

Now, he's done this before with 'Ashes of Time', a film that's not his best, but stands up well alongside his others. 'The Grandmaster', however maybe struggles to keep up the pace. Like 'My Blueberry Nights', 'The Grandmaster' is exquisite to look at, with shots as good as any post-Nujabes Japanese hip hop video you'll find on YouTube. But for the, this maybe where the problems lie. Beautiful shots do not necessarily a great kung-fu film make, often finding that the over-angular nature of the camerawork detracts from viewing the fight scenes. I don't necessarily think of 'Ashes of Time' as a kung-fu film, just a good film, but with 'The Grandmaster' focusing so much on kung-fu, it maybe suggests that Wong isn't a master of the kung-fu genre.

With the cast including many big names, including Wong regulars, the acting is strong and characters are a definite step up from 'My Blueberry Nights'. As indeed is the script, with many of the life questions and lessons reminiscent of his films of the Nineties. But there are just certain moments that hurt the film. The train station battle between Gong Er and Ma San is, at times, a little over-the-top and slightly comical, out of sync with the rest of the film. Indeed it's probably the kung-fu fighting that lets the film down here. The philosophy behind the martial arts is present, but while this is a good-looking action film, it's not always an exhilarating one.

'The Grandmaster' is somewhat of a return to form for Wong Kar-wai, though it's probably no coincidence that his last three films since 2000's 'In the Mood for Love' have probably been his worst. Maybe it's his departure from working with cinematographer Christopher Doyle, but perhaps it's his attempts at the new: a sequel, an English-language film and now a kung-fu film, suggesting Wong is not a jack-of-all-trades, but a grandmaster of one.

Politic 25

NOISES I HERE!!!

Slit of Cloud - DJ Krush and Akira Sakata
No Sleep 'Til Brooklyn - Beastie Boys
You Can't Fade Me / JD's Gaffilin' - Ice Cube
Get Lifted - Keith Murray
Figure of Speech - K.M.D.
Automated Life Machines- Fat Jon
Move Slow - New Flesh and Beans (for dinner?!)
Pieces of a Man - Gil Scott Heron
Innervisions - DJ Cam
Pretense - DJ Krush
Black Satin (on the Corner) - Miles Davis and DJ Krush
Beats - DJ Shadow and DJ Krush
Spiritual Prayer - Sugizo and DJ Krush
Univearth - DJ Krush and Tetsuro Naito
Darkrun - Anchorsong
Cutting the Edge - Anchorsong
Mental Invasion - DJ Cam
Dandelion - Michita, Hisomi-TNP and Meiso
クモリナキアメ - Michita and Meiso 
Fazers - King Geedorah

Every 14 Days...(23)

Chronicle of a Death Foretold (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

Second attempt at a Gabriel Garcia Marquez short novel and a much better experience this time around.

Written from the perspective of a returning townsfolk, it follows people's recollections of a murder in the village following a wedding at which the whole village was involved. Patchy details follow as the protagonist tries to uncover the story of what happened to his friend that day, with the more he discovers, the more he finds that everyone knew the murder was about to happen and simply stood by as the situation unfolded.

With the murderers obvious and known by all, the real discovery is of how the village murdered Santiago Nasar, with everybody knowing, everybody speaking, but nobody acting in an indictment of the realities of community spirit.

Days to read: 7

Days per book: 15.0

Stalin Ate my Homework (Alexei Sayle)

I've been meaning to read this for quite some time and recently decided to get off my arse and do it. Now, I'm not a Jewish Communist Scouser, but now I feel like I know what it would be to be one.  This autobiography focuses on his school years up to the age of eighteen, but is as much a story about his formative years as it is the changing political face of the Britain and mainland Europe.

This is a memoir full of subtle comedy, the politics of his eccentric parents and various travels to Eastern Europe during the Soviet years, with exotic summer holidays to Czechoslovakia and Lake Balaton in Hungary.

To be honest, I was probably wanting to read this to get tales of 'The Young Ones' and the rise alternative comedy in the Seventies and Eighties - the clue was in the title that this is not what you would get. But, my foolish expectations aside, this is a very good read by an important figure in Twentieth Century British comedy.

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 15.0

Of Love and other Demons (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

This was another short and cheap purchase, deigned to get my 'days per book' average down, as well as try another Gabriel Garcia Marquez short novel. Again he looks at a victim of local community, with a young girl shunned by everybody, including her parents, after being bitten by a rabid dog, made to live with slaves before being imprisoned within a convent. Soon, everyone deems her possessed, rather than suffering from illness. The priest tasked with exorcising her demons is the one of the few to sympathise with her condition.

This sits very nicely alongside 'Chronicle of a Death Foretold', acting as a criticism of modernised living and the complexity of morality within a wider community. What is right and wrong has been predetermined by religion social convention, with few prepared to question it, instead falling in-line with the group and failing to think for themselves.

Days to read: 12

Days per book: 15.0

Strange Weather in Tokyo (Hiromi Kawakami)

This was a book I felt almost compelled to purchase, falling victim, as I was, to Internet search engine Nazis, forcing suggestions up my urethral opening (no casual racism terms here). Based on my reading of Murakamis of all varieties, I had this piece of modern, popularist Japanese literature on my laptop screen on a regular basis, even more than vulgar, graphic images!

A quote from some magazine or other (Monocle) on the back cover talks of how this 'paints perfectly the lightness and delicacy of modern Tokyo.' This is indeed true. There are many images of Tokyo that one can have in their mind, but one that will be present is the very clean, minimalist, chic, stylised view of modern, professional society. Surface-level cool, with designer brands and Michelin-star restaurants. It's very much a Western image of Tokyo that you are likely to find in Hollywood movies. This 'love story' fits in to this image of a utopian world in the Far East.

Tsukiko, a middle-aged singleton develops a nightly binge-drinking relationship with her former school teacher, the obviously-now-much-older 'Sensei'. The more they drink together, the more they grow close, but their history, age and social convention prevent anything from ever really happening. And that is largely that.

One word for this is definitely 'light', there is nothing too deep here, never getting fully under the skin of the characters, being a nice read, but maybe ultimately a little annoying for it. The Japanese title of 'Sensei no kaban' ('Teacher's Briefcase') is much more intriguing as to some of the more hidden elements in the story.

This is light and clean, but needs some more of the grime of the city streets.

Days to read: 12

Days per book: 14.9

The World of Kanako (58th BFI London Film Festival)

Tetsuya Nakashima is a director that pops up every couple of years with a film that can only be described as 'ruddy good.' I first saw 'Kamikaze Girls' and 'Memories of Matsuko' within about an hour of each other a few years back and enjoyed both. I then anticipated and enjoyed (as much as you can) 'Confessions' which soon followed. So after a few years off, Nakashima returns with 'The World of Kanako', and was I excited?!

Akikazu Fujishima is an absolute bastard. A real piece of the proverbial. Losing his job as a detective  due to his mental health, he soon gains alcoholism and a job as a security guard, but loses his wife and daughter. Living in his own filth, he suddenly receives a call from his estranged wife asking if he's seen their daughter. With a number of recent murders connected to his missing daughter, Akikazu soon becomes caught up in police investigations, frequent battles with his wife and gang violence. In true Hollywood-style, he decides to take the case of his missing daughter on himself, discovering the world of his daughter that he never knew, and maybe wishes he never did.

Starring Koji 'always in the big film' Yakusho as Mr Bastard, the film starts with Tarantino-esque retro titles, loud, brash and in your face. This sets the standard for two hours of intense, graphic and probably over-the-top cinema. 'The World of Kanako' is a good film, but you come away thinking that it could have been a bit simpler.

There are definite elements of the three previously mentioned Nakashima films all present here: The in-your-face, cartoonish styling of 'Kamikaze Girls'; the epic life story, enigmas and musical montages of 'Memories of Matsuko'; and the, at times, overly intense psychology of 'Confessions'. All are employed effectively here again, creating a extreme, dark and out-of-this-world experience for both the characters and viewers alike.

But, a little like Tarantino, things get a little indulgent here. Most obviously is the violence: blood splatters across pretty much every scene with teenage acne-like glee, with the make-up department working overtime in getting everyone's face suitably disfigured. Everyone hits everyone hard, with sound effects to match, and then they walk into the next scene for it all to happen again. While I don't mind a bit of violence on screen , when it's relentless it can become both a little boring and lacking impact.

The switching between past and present also gets a little overdone, though generally throughout is the film's strength in creating both mystery and builds as the film continues. Though by the end, the switching becomes too frequent, blurring the lines between the past and the present, with endless editing.

The films starts well, but starts to fall off as the end grows nearer. The violence becomes too much, cartoon-like in a film that creates an intense atmosphere. More and more characters come in towards the end, that maybe didn't need introducing. But disappointingly the intensity that is built throughout the film gets lost in this violence, seeing the viewer switch off and despite trying lacks the well rounded conclusion of 'Memories of Matsuko' and 'Confessions'. But Nakashima is a director that can certainly create an experience through cinema.

This year's BFI London Film Festival, the 58th incarnation, was record-breaking in its attendances. Six films seen from five countries, one of which I can describe as a 'ruddy belter.' The rest all promised, delivered to some extents, maybe fell short in others. With the likes of 'Tokyo Tribe', 'Free Fall' and 'The World of Kanako', films now are definitely trying to push boundaries of intensity, experimentation and taste, but as ever, it can be the simpler films that see the most creativity and often result in the best cinematic experience. 

Night Bus (58th BFI London Film Festival Part V)

'Night Bus' as a concept works: top marks for that. A random collection of discussions that take place one Friday night, connected only by the fact that all the participants are on the fictional N39 to Leytonstone. But, the longer the film goes on, the less the idea appeals to me, and by the end I was rather disappointed.

Writer-director Simon Baker makes his debut with 'Night Bus', a film that tries to show the diverse worlds  that all come together on a London night bus. This is, of course, the case: all warps of life can be on the bus after hours, and most are included here. I couple discuss an incredibly middle class night out, drunk City boys argue among themselves, youths play their mobile phones for all that don't want to hear, young couples venture home after a night out...you've been on a night bus and you've been annoyed by them all.

For observation, 'Night Bus' probably scores highly in drawing together the type of rubbish you hear on a night out. But billed as a comedy, this only provides titters rather than laughs; minor skirmishes rather than drama. 'Night Bus' lacks in some areas for me.

To start, the idea maybe isn't very original. The comment was made that it's a bit like watching an episode of 'The Chicken Shop' on Channel 4, or their more recent work of magic about a night club toilet in Crawley. Filming the various conversations in a forced situation has been done, many times, even on a bus if you include Spike Lee's 'Get on the Bus', and so you don't particularly feel that anything new is being done here.

There's a lack of any glue holding everything together here. One might say that the bus plays this role, but I wouldn't. The bus driver also fails to fill this void, not being directly connected to many of the main protagonists. It, therefore, just feels like a series of conversations, rather than, ironically, a journey. This could be ten hours or ten minutes, the conclusions reached would be the same.

The conclusion is also quite weak. The lone foreign girl who gets on the back of the bus, arguing on her phone with her boyfriend, suddenly pipes up in English, summing up Londoners in a monologue that offers little more than the theme tune to 'Auf Wiedersehen, Pet'.

There are some moments, some good bits of dialogue and some social comment, but 'Night Bus' could probably have been a fifteen minute short that you stumble across drunk when you switch Channel 4 on at 4AM after a night out. At which point you will have probably seen it all before.

Black Coal, Thin Ice (58th BFI London Film Festival Part IV)

'Black Coal, Thin Ice' is a bit slow in many senses. A film that spans a five year period, starting when a human arm is found among a coal delivery, prompting a murder investigation that takes a long time to be solved. This is all filmed at quite a slow pace as the story starts to develop over time.

Zhang is a detective, recently divorced, called to a factory when an arm is found in some coal. The investigation identifies the victim as the husband of a laundry worker, though the murder is left unsolved. Five years down the road, Zhang is now a drunk working as a security guard at a factory; his life and career now at a halt, he meets with his former partner, they discuss the old case, as well as two subsequent murders of the widowed laundry worker's lovers. Zhang pursues both the cases and the women that is connected to them, gradually becoming involved with her as he works to solve the murders, as well as his own life.

The film is quite understated, moving along at a slow pace, with some interesting camerawork, steady throughout. Twists comes towards the film's conclusion, though with a lack of tension or suspense really created, these are met with a muted response, lacking real build. The film also doesn't seem to know when exactly to end, continuing after the final revelations, ending with a scene that is both comprehensible and unusual.

Unlike the title would suggest, 'Black Coal, Thin Ice' is solid: decent performances, some interesting cinematography, with interesting enough a story. But, it never really goes beyond this, feeling very much a film for a slow Sunday afternoon, relaxing more than thrilling.

Free Fall (58th BFI London Film Festival Part III)

'If you didn't know any Hungarians and you watched this movie, you'd think we were all weird.'

 - My wife to be

Aren't they just?!

'Free Fall' is the latest work from writer-director duo György Pálfi and Zsófia Ruttkay, whose previous works include 'Hukkle' and 'Taxidermia', two films that will make you think that all Hungarians are weird and enjoy pig semen.

The premise for this was one that I liked: With someone jumping from the roof of a block of flats, a short tale of the happenings in a flat from each floor is subsequently told about the weird lives that live above and below the ceiling. All packaged in a soundtrack by Amon Tobin.

'Free Fall', therefore, is more like a sketch show, with all the characters held together by a connecting theme: the building they live in, reminding very much of Sean Lock's '15 Storeys High'. All the shorts are filmed in a different style, but all are dark comedies, though some are more on the dark and less on the comedy.

What follows is group meditation, naked people at choir practice, uber safe sex, a US sit-com threesome, forced re-birth, among others, with no explanation for each offered. Some work, others less so, with the changing of styles creating a switching from comedy, to confusion, to what?!, back to comedy, oh a penis, etc. This creates an uneven watch, but keeps you interested at least as to what might come next...oh, I wish I hadn't seen that!

The highlight for me is perhaps the opening credits - not a great compliment, but better than saying the highlight was the end - with its brash Amon Tobin soundtrack and grainy footage, like some sort of electro-punk music video. The changing of style throughout shows some versatility from the two directors, like the opposite styles of 'Hukkle' and 'Taxidermia' previously.

'Free fall' is good, but not great, too inconsistent to be a thoroughly entertaining watch throughout. It wasn't quite what I expected - I expected an episode of '15 Storeys High' - but that's 'Free Fall's' strength: surprise, delivering the unexpected and the changing emotions that come with it; up and down like a lift in a block of flats.

Tokyo Tribe (58th BFI London Film Festival Part II)

I've been to Tokyo, and it is just like this...if 'this' is 'Grand Theft Auto: Tokyo'. The first Japanese film I've seen at the LFF since 2012 (withdrawal), Shion Sono's latest film is certainly an experience.

I first came across 'Tokyo Tribe', that is to say the strangely titled 'Tokyo Tribe 2', while in, erm, Tokyo. Bored, and looking for a new anime series to entertain, I searched my local 'Book Off' and came across something that looks like it might combine both anime and hip hop in a way that only 'Samurai Champloo' could do before it. On the cheap (for Japan), I purchased volumes 1, 2, 4 and 5 of the DVD collection, being that 3 and 6 were unavailable on that day. Being that I was in Japan, there was no need for English translations on these bad boys, so I could merely watch the interesting images and listen to the fat beats which were contained within.

Loosely, the plot centres around the Mushashino Saru gang, a group of fun-loving kids that hang out at a diner. But, being just one of twenty-three gangs in Tokyo, all representing their 'hood in their own unique way, they soon find their peaceful lives caught up in gang wars. It's 'The Warriors' in Japanese.

The anime of Santa Inoue's manga comes with GTA-style breakdowns of the characters, the gangs, the locations, the eateries involved in this semi-fictional Tokyo world. I like the anime (not that I understand it, wakarimashita?!), with the music and style; seriousness and comedy, but mainly the ending credits, which always need to deliver in an anime series. So, now comes the live-action version from bum-crampingly-long film director Sono: a man that might have one said that both Miike Takashi and Kitano Takeshi are both 'dead', but also might have not.

When turning a cartoon into a live-action, it's always interesting to the approach that will be taken. Sono certainly takes some interesting ones here. The first notable one is that this being a hip hop anime, 90% of what is said is 'rapped', with a combination of actors trying their best and some Japanese wordsmiths making up the cast. What starts off as interesting, soon starts to feel like a potentially irritating gimmick, before you settle into it and it becomes natural. After two hours of this, you will only want to speak in rap-form...in Japanese.

The second noticeable element is that of bling. Hip hop is always something that I feel is very anti-Japanese. Despite my love of both Japanese culture and hip hop, the loud, brash, bragging rights world of hip hop simply doesn't fit with that image of polite and respectful Japanese. But, being a man that regularly listens to Japanese ragga on vinyl, this cross-culture exists, and my Japanese hip hop collections is ever on the increase. But the US gangsta ethic feels a little strange in Japanese, with many of the gangs coming straight out of a comic book. But this is straight out of a comic book, and so some poetic license needs to be allowed here.

When watching characters in animated form, it is acceptable for them to be larger than life and somewhat unbelievable, but you're always unsure how to take them when they're actual humans. The sick and twisted characters certainly are that in Sono's 'Tokyo Tribe', and the gang colours come across as much hilarious as threatening.

Reality is not the name of the game here, with 'Tokyo Tribe' feeling very much like a game of 'GTA': not feeling in anyway based on real-life, but a dream world men wish they lived in, but would run from as soon as it was in their face. This is, therefore, pure silliness in a can...of film, the film's farcical conclusion in-line with the rest of the two hours.

There are good and bad elements in this film: The good include the rapping, which is interesting and gives the film a rhythm, though maybe not a linear plot. while the rappers in the cast can obviously hold their own, novices, like actor Shota Sometani take on a lot of rapping and while not blessed with talent can pull it off for the duration. There is certainly a lot of invention here as well, with creative set designs in-line with the manga and anime.

But with all that rapping and less-than-coherent plot, this is at times a little long and at times disjointed. But, much like Miike Takashi - a man he will inevitably be compared to - before him, Sono is a creative director that will keep churning them out, not dwelling too much on how films are received, working on what new and crazy things to do next...

Tokyo Tribe, never ever die...

Hill Of Freedom (58th BFI London Film Festival Part I)

Last year at the 2013 BFI London Film Festival (BFILFF, kiddies) I felt like I let myself down. Of the four films I went to see, not one was Japanese. American, check; Hong Kongian, check; Hungarian, you bet; Chinese, of course. Japanese, no. Well, with the LFF's 58th incarnation, I felt I should put that right.

Adding two Japanese films, I saw a total of six of the however-many films that were on offer. Korean; check; British, check; Hungarian, not Czech; Chinese, checkers; American, no...celebrate!

First stop, Korea, Southern variety, and the charming 'Hill of Freedom'. Hong Sang-soo is the name of a director that I know. Having seen his 'Hahaha' a few years back, and remembering how it made me 'ha ha ha', I was looking forward to what appeared to be another comedy involving reminiscing and discussions over alcohol. Where 'Hahaha' used still photos while the conversation continued to flow, 'Hill of Freedom' uses another inventive technique for this not-always-so-subtle comedy.

Mori, played effectively by Japanese man Ryo Kase (you remember him), is a Japanese man returning to Korea for two weeks looking for the Korean student he fell in love with when working in Seoul as a language tutor. The Korean student, Kwon, unaware of his return, has also recently returned to Seoul after some time away recovering from illness under the care of a man combining being both a preacher and doctor. She finds she has been left a series of letters written by Mori in broken English. Dropping the letters, she loses the chronological order that Mori had clearly put them in, yet failed to date.

Kwon then begins to read the letters, which are acted out for us, but with the order now lost so the film now becomes a sprawling collection of mish-mash snips of Mori's time in Korea. This means things are seen before they actually happen (sort of) creating confusion for the audience (sort of). The chronology is not particularly distracting and adds a nice charm to the film, as well as some comedy moments.

The real comedy here, however, is the fact that this is a Korean film, centred around a Japanese man, that is acted largely in English. Mori's lack of Korean means he bumbles his way about a corner of Seoul where everybody just so happens to be relatively fluent in the Queen's. This presents lots of broken conversations and odd phrases uttered between the two clashing cultures, with 'you're a strange man' being met with 'you're a strange man.' Confusion is sometimes created and from thence the humour arose.

Mori's motivations are not always clear, in what is a short film, coming to Korea while unemployed with no real plan upon arrival except see Kwon, getting drunk with his guesthouse owner's nephew and flirting - and more - with a local cafe worker. Though his lack of direction is often questioned by the Koreans he comes into contact with, often mistaking him for an artist due to his scruffy appearance and daily sleeping habits. He is a man searching for something, whatever it may be.

But Hong keeps things light, showing that Mori is clearly troubled, but not diving too far in. Being a short film, just over an hour, this is probably a good thing, kept as a comedy, not a moody love story. The postscript ending is a clear sign of this, concluding a postmodern film about post.

Forgetting to know you (Raindance Film Festival 2014 Part II)

The second, and indeed final, film I ventured to at this year's Raindance Festival in London was a slow burner. 'Forgetting to know you' (or 'Mo Sheng' if you're that way inclined) is the only IMDB-known film from director Ling Quan, though is produced by modern master of Chinese cinema, Jia Zhang-ke, giving it an additional notch of interest, as well as a stamp of his influence on the film.

Starting off as a slow-paced tale about a couple and their child, initially it is unclear as to the exact nature of their relationship. Divorced, separated, still together but probably having less sex than before, we are unsure, though it is clear that all is not well. Shot in a manner similar to that of Zhang-ke's slow-paced realism, the film takes a while to get into before the real story starts to unfold.

With neither party in the relationship exactly great at communicating with the other, a night messing around on the Internet leads the husband, Cai, to uncover elements of his wife Chen's past. The discovery leads dormant questions to resurface, forcing the couple further apart leading to the ultimate finale to be raised.   

'Forgetting to know you' takes some patience to start. Not exactly a long film, it does, however, take a while to get going, but once it finally does, you do find yourself drawn into the story as it develops, peaking your interest at the film's quite abrupt and inconclusive ending. This is the film's strength: While other films can drag and leave you looking for the end credits, this one sees your interest rise and rise before an anti-climactic, but not altogether dissatisfying conclusion. The fact that the film ends leaving things unresolved only adds to this - the ending of an episode of a TV series that leads you yearning for the next.  

Being produced by Zhang-ke, there is a minimalist feel throughout, with less in the way of editing and letting the camera roll through scenes. Some interesting side view dolly shots could have been used more, though the photography is strong throughout.

What is good about 'Forgetting to know you' is the continuation of the style of modern Chinese cinema looking at the bleaker side of change in the country, with a realism that may not always entertain but leave you with something you won't immediately forget. 

Fuku-chan of Fukufuku Flats (Raindance Film Festival 2014 Part I)

The Raindance Film Festival in London is one of those film festivals that I don't always get excited about, falling as it does behind the likes of the London Film Festival, the Terracotta Film Festival, the Japan Foundation annual film programme, the London Korean Film Festival and the all-night Steven Segal Wank-a-thon in my thoughts. That's not to say it's bad or anything, I just always forget about it.

This year was no exception, coming at a time when I was far too busy to even think, let alone watch a film. But hang on, there's some good shit here. Decisions to attend films were made slightly late in the day (i.e. the night before) and I was watching the films in an uncomfortable state of tiredness.

Essentially, I couldn't make many of the films anyway; and those I did see were squeezed in around important things in my life (wedding food tastings, Villa playing Man City). There were, however, some good films on offer, notably the Third Window Films line-up of four, count them, films...I made one of them (I've pre-ordered the 'New Directors from Japan' DVD already).

So, that's three paragraphs gone and I haven't even mentioned a single film yet. 'Fine, Totally Fine': now that's a film. The debut feature by director Yosuke Fujita, it is a film that I very much liked. A nice, gently-paced comedy, it is full of 'Quirky Guys and Gals', much like the title of his next feature. I, therefore, had high hopes for his latest work: 'Fuku-chan of Fukufuku Flats'.

Reading the premise, you instantly knew this was going to be in much the same vein of 'Fine, Totally Fine'. About a man - played by a woman - Fukuda is a happy-go-lucky industrial painter whom is everybody's best friend and counsellor, helping introverted colleagues and let's say quirky neighbours alike. But there's something clearly missing from his life (not the obvious being that this is a female playing a male).

The side story of aspiring photographer Chiho soon merges with the life of the lead as she unannounced arrives at his door: his first love, but essentially a girl that tricked and embarrassed him when they were at school together. A fat man with an unusual face (you can see why they cast a female as the lead), Fukuda re-forms a friendship with Chiho largely based around her taking photos of him. Much like 'Fine, Totally Fine', sexual love might not make the ending happy, but a group of misfits find each other and so maybe feel less confused about their unique ways.

With my constant referencing to 'Fine, Totally Fine' it's clear that I probably prefer the earlier work to this new one. And I probably do, but the fact that I was anticipating this film for a while means that I'm not concerned by this.

The role of Fukuda, played by female comedian Miyuki Oshima, is good as the lead, necessary for a character comedy to work. My always favourite Yoshiyoshi Arakawa is not as involved as I would normally desire though provides some incredibly necessary facial expressions, while the supporting characters are weird and wonderful, particularly the typical-of-Japanese-comedy duo of Mabuchi (Tateto Serizawa) and Nonoshita (Asato Iida): two men that very much need to get laid.

A scene that surmises this film stylistically, and indeed Fujita's brand of direction, is the beautifully insane visit to a curry house. Odd human beings, a baffling situation, social awkwardness, all done with a sense of calm...until someone bursts into an ultimately futile fir of rage. Fujita's style is very much in-line with that of other Japanese directors when injecting some comedy into their films. A very subtle buffoonery is present throughout, sometimes reminiscent of an early Kitano Takeshi at his most silly. 

Third Window Films have distributed many films along a similar line as this and continue to do so. A gentle brand of foolishness that is ultimately fun to be enjoyed, with the odd bit of Shinya Tsukamoto thrown in for balance. 'Fuku-chan of Fukufuku Flats' was a film I was anticipating, and I'm glad I did. Now let's all try and stab someone for no apparent reason...

Every 14 Days...(22)

Metamorphosis and Other Stories (Franz Kafka)

'Metamorphosis' is one of those famous stories that everyone knows of, but has it actually been read? Well, I hadn't read it. But now I have. Packaged with other shorts and musings, this is a mixed collection of writings, with, for me, moments of brilliance juxtaposed with moments less entertaining.

This collection starts with 'Contemplation', an interesting set of short moments that seem to link together in the life of the narrator, developing as they go along. 'The Rejection' is a good moment of comedy and works as one of the stronger works in this collection.

'Metamorphosis' itself is an interesting tale of changing, possibly inspired by Kafka's own burden on his family, and shows a sense of isolation that his change brings him. Wanting to still be part of his family and continue as normal, despite his now being a different creature, Gregor Samsa is instead shut away by his family as he has to come to terms with his new position in the changing family.

The other works here are mixed in the level of entertainment they gave me. Some are strong works, while others are ones that I simply did not get into and was quite happy to complete. Perhaps the timing of reading this didn't help having completed other short stories recently and characters and situations ever changing leading me to struggle to care for some.

The work is a classic and adds to the sense of Kafka's writing of change and man's struggle against systems that hold them.

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 15.2

Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and his Years of Pilgrimage (Haruki Murakami)

You can say that I came to Murakami late, reading my first of his works, 'Dance, Dance, Dance', after most of what he's written had already been translated and released in English. Most of my reading of his books, therefore, has been playing catch-up, gradually making my way through them over a period of a few years.

Having made my way through all of them, 1Q84 was the first of his novels that I actually anticipated being released, and bought pretty much on the day of release, all three of them! And now his next, new, long-winded titled novel is one that I anticipated, pre-ordered and read, almost instantly. But whereas before I read his books for pure pleasure, now they arrive with the expectation to at least match what came before - something which rarely happens.

Character-wise, the man of the title is classic Murakami: a self-conscious single man, unsure of his place in the world, experiencing the odd sexual encounter here and there. Now approaching middle age, looking back on his teenage years and his tight-knit group of friends - all whose names feature a colour - the woman he is currently dating suggests he searches to discover why the group suddenly excluded him...if he wants some more nookie, anyway. With some quicker than lightning research, she locates the four other members of the high school group and thus starts his journey of discovery, or pilgrimage, if you will.

To start, I was quite disappointed. I'm not sure if it was due to other recent reads, but I initially found Philip Gabriel's translation just a little simplified, feeling like it was written by Dan Brown. While I've always liked how Murakami is an easy read, it made me wonder if increasing popularity brought with it a steady dumbing-down of content. But sticking with it, this became less noticeable as the book went on, and it flowed nicely.

It's fair to say that this isn't his best book, probably not even up there among his best. Despite the anticipation, it's a solid effort, like the ones read casually on holiday while working my way through his bibliography. Perhaps it's best just to read  as you find it, skipping the anticipation part altogether. Though this one did come with some 'adult' stickers, which made me feel very grown up. And no doubt, I'll be pre-ordering my copy of 'The Strange Library' when released later this year...I never learn.

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 15.2

Japanese Rules (Sebastian Moffett)

This is a book written to be read by me. Let's just look at the full title in a little more detail: 'Japanese Rules (oooh, Japanese): Why the Japanese needed football (oooh, football) and how they got it (oooh, sociological)'. Bought for me by my fiancée as a birthday present (awwww), I almost immediately started reading this and was 'into it' from the kick-off (a football-based joke there).

While it goes back a little further to set a context, the book focuses on 1993-2002, perhaps the most important ten years in Japanese football's history, or indeed, Japanese history (that's a socio-political joke). With the advent of the J-League in 1993, bringing with it the likes of world renowned toe enthusiast Gary Linekar, Sebastian Moffett charts the rise, fall and subsequent rise of the beautiful game in the Land of the Rising Sun.

But more than just a chronological piece about which fading stars arrived to end their careers on a big pay-day as the MLS now does (it does do this), it tries - as my Masters dissertation failed - to explore how football in Japan was a sign of social change in the country, representing a new Japan ready for the new millennium...and hosting a World Cup.

Football teams were small, and far behind that if baseball in terms of popularity and funds in the 'bubble period' of Japan. The one thing they had in common, however, was that teams were company-owned, taking their names and made up of 'amateur' players masquerading as kaishain, or company employees. Loyalty was to the company, and you did as you were told. With the advent of the J-League in 1993, the premise was a move away from the post-war Japan of loyalty to the company, wanting teams to be named after their locale, supporting their fan bases and having fans show a wild side.

The big name signings, endless company money piled into the League and novelty saw large attendances to start and fans bases built. But in a culture of not questioning superiors, uniformity and following procedures, football didn't really work. Foreign players and coaches alike found team mates unable to make quick, spare-of-the-moment decisions or think for themselves in a sport that loves individual style and flare. The lack of any successful national team saw football's popularity gradually decline, as foreign players and coaches alike struggled to gain any real success.

But 1998 and World Cup qualification in France, alongside a previously unthinkable co-hosting with South Korea planned for 2002, saw something to shout about, and with more teams formed, more experience gained and greater football professionalism, fan bases became established and club identities formed, culminating in Nakata Hidetoshi dyeing his hair.

Football fandom was something new to Japan: being individual, loud and brash, doing outrageous things in public - largely getting naked. Foreign influenced was large, shown in team names and fan styles, with unique atmospheres created, as I have experienced myself. Like football in Japan, this isn't the greatest book ever written, but I love it in my own unique way.

C'mon Verdy!

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.1

Every 14 Days...(21)

Back from the Brink (Paul McGrath)

This is a book I probably really should have read by now. In fact, it's something I have bought before, as a present for someone else. And being that it was a Dave Gorman definition of a 'present' and not a 'gift', it's about time that I read it.

Often cited as one of the best football autobiographies, something of which I don't particularly read due to lack of real story, I don't particularly have much to compare this to. So in that sense for me, it is the best football autobiography, being that it's the only one I've actually bothered to read. And this is a good read. 'God' is one of those players that actually had a life off the pitch worth reading about, constantly battling his addictions that lead to problems for himself on and off the pitch.

This is not necessarily a book with a happy ending, but another step on the road to recovery, interestingly told from both his own perspective as well as those that were involved, meaning it doesn't get too self-absorbed. All refer to the player and man he could have been were his troubles not apparent, but so often is it the flaws that make us love them so.  

Days to read: 21

Days per book: 15.5

The Sake Handbook (John Gautner)

Sake is something I've been wanting to explore for a while, and not just for the sake of it. I like all things Japanese (apart from natto), consuming alcohol and vomiting, so it's only natural that I'd want to learn a little more.

'The Sake Handbook' is one of those odd things that start by telling you about lots of different processes and sciences that you probably have little interest in and will likely forget within seconds, but you have to get through that to get to the juicy stuff. Obviously, this being a book with pages of paper and not cups of sake, there is no juicy stuff at the end.

Reading a book doesn't get you more acquainted with something, you have to actually do it firsthand. And that's why this is a HANDbook, for later reference whenever purchasing a tipple. With so much on offer and sake being expensive in the UK, not served alongside your Sambuca and Jagermeister at the most classy of drinking establishments, I will never become an expert in the field. But I have learnt something and will be sure to start with the exciting and hip hobby of sake label collecting. 

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.5

Kokoro (Natsume Soseki)

Another notch on my Matsume Soseki bed-post and another good read. The Haruki Murakami of his day, if you're being a lazy reviewer. But there is some similarity there, with the previous Soseki novels I've read, 'Sanshiro' and 'Kusamakura', also about young men coming to terms with the world around them.

'Kokoro', which can be translated in many ways but refers to 'of the heart' or 'meaning', is a story of a student whom befriends a enigmatic man, whom he converses with regularly, but holds a secret from him throughout their intercourse (hehe). On his returning home, the younger man loses contact with his friend, despite his attempts to make contact. Eventually he does here from him, with all questions finally answered.

Being that this is a book about the relationship between people, there is a lot of dialogue between the two, over-analysing each and everything as they go. The extended letter shared between them on the book's conclusions is also long and detailed. But this is the nature of the two characters, at times unable to reveal their true feelings as they struggle to come to terms with changing times.

Reading between the lines, there is a tale of the changing face of Japan in here. Just as important in his day, Murakami holds him as a key influence on his writing, and I can see why.  

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.5

Starting Point (Hayao Miyazaki)

A collection of his various writings, Hayao Miyazaki's 'Starting Point' is quite a bumpy ride as a read. Switching between his analysis of the contemporary world and long-winded descriptions of animation production processes, this is at times an interesting read; at others of little relevance to those not interested enough in the world of animation to know all the finer details.

While, of course, that's what makes him who he is, for the casual reader, this is a little too detailed at times and could have perhaps been edited down to the pieces about the world outside animation.

There are some fascinating reads in here at times, though at the overall length, it gets a bit much. But that's probably the difference between him and why no one's reading this.

Days to read: 26

Days per book: 15.6

Nobody Knows (Shelley Tanaka)

I bought this, like the pretentious fool that I am, thinking it was an analysis of one of my favourite films by Hirokazu Kore-eda. Instead, it turned out to be a novelisation on a film with little in the way of narrative and dialogue.

Films will always come after books, but books shouldn't really come after films, novelisations at least. This is short and quite unnecessary really, seemingly written for children, with a simplistic style featuring photos from the film throughout. It's good at making me want to watch the film again, so that's something at least.

I can't say I remember reading a novelisation before; maybe 'Ghostbusters', though an Armando Iannucci joke might have blinkered my memory. I don't think I'll read many more in life. Watch the subtitled film, instead. It's more entertaining and sort of counts as reading.

Days to read: 3

Days per book: 15.5

Keep the Aspidistra Flying (George Orwell)

Getting closer to polishing off the Orwell back catalogue. 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying' probably isn't his best work and not as well written as some of his others, but at the time of reading, this felt quite appropriate.

With the troubled hero, Gordon Comstock, sat in his low-end shop in a bookshop, he contemplates the gentry, and how the spare time afforded them gives them the ability to sit and write endless pieces, compared to his meagre published works and half-finished promises. With his 'war on money', Gordon chooses a life of struggle over a respectable job.

Reading at a time when more adverts seem to annoy me than ever and after discussing theories of how a lot of societies innovators have been allowed a freedom many will never experience (probably while drunk), this is another work of Orwell that still seems to have its relevance today.

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.4

Error (Tadanobu Asano)

So, this one's a bit of a cheat. It does have some words in it, but most of them are written in Japanese, which I can pretend to read.

Like a lot of actors, Tadanobu Asano needs other hobbies to stop him from getting too bored and, therefore, does side projects that are probably of little merit, but because of their name they can blag some extra cash out of it. He is also in a band.

'Error' is a collection of his painting, or random sketches, or doodles of penises. Yep, the last one probably suits best. There are a couple of pieces worth looking at, but largely it's just interesting to see how an actor spends his time off...'How bad can a remake of '47 Ronin' with Keanu Reeves be?', maybe?!

Days to read: 1

Days per book: 15.3

Raise the Red Lantern (Su Tong)

Zhang Yimou's 'Raise the Red Lantern' is one of three films I remember watching in my youth that attracted me to Asian cinema. Reading the story on which it was based came naturally.

It's been many years since I've actually seen 'Raise the Red Lantern' - a film that I've only seen once - but from memory the film is true to much of the story of a young woman sent to live in the house of an older master as his fourth wife. Being a short, it doesn't necessarily go into too much death regarding the personalities of each of the four wives, which is a little disappointing, but it's still well-written as a story.

The other two stories included: 'Nineteen Thirty-four Escapes' and 'Opium Family' are a bit more mixed in how much I enjoyed them. 'Nineteen Thirty-four Escapes' is one I simply could not get into and skipped over a lot of it in my mind as I was reading, with too many characters brought in and my interest soon dwindling. 'Opium Family' is better, though again loses my interest at times as characters change in a short period of time.

Perhaps my main interest only being in the titular story accounts for my wanting to get the others over and done with more quickly, not particularly getting into either, or I just I have a greater interest in films than books. Perhaps.

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 15.3

No One Writes to the Colonel (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

I've been wanting to read some Gabriel Garcia Marquez for a while now and so I thought I'd start with the shortest of his books out of laziness. Probably this wasn't the best place to start.

While 'No one Writes to the Colonel' is a decent enough read, being as short as it is, it could easily fit in a collection of short stories as it leaves you wanting a little more. I will still aim for some of the more widely known of his works, not being put off by this one, so the old maxim of 'always leave them wanting more' worked a treat here with me.

Days to read: 4

Days per book: 15.1