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...