List of some noises from the last pre-specified number of days... No vintage, but some nods and taps... Click your fingers to it... Too much wanking over RTJ3 already to include that here. De La Soul - ...and the Anonymous Nobody Some nice noises on this. Not quite 3 feet high, but maybe about 18 inches and leveling out...
A Tribe Called Quest - We Got it from Here...Thank you 4 your Service Difficult year for the other Native Tongues. 'We the People...' on your rotation box.
Zach de la Rocha (and El-P, of course) - Digging for Windows 'Big Zach' holding it down in the hip hop world with some tasty help from El-Producto himself.
Mndsgn and Ahwlee - A Rap Vacation Xmas An oldie (from like 2012) re-packaged with colourful vinyl...Ooooo, presents. Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!
Invisibl Skratch Piklz - The 13th Floor Q-Bert can scratch my back. Wrists not yet ruined.
ILL SUGI - Back to Rock Unreleased noise-sounds from the Japanese man. The re-birth of the beat tape...Literally a tape. Sugimoto-san is a little sick.
Evisbeats - Qualia That man makes some nice noises yet again. Should do another full album. Alongside release of 'Hanabi' a nice effort, but where's 'Vietnam'?
サマージャム'95 -鎮座DOPENESS and 環ROY and U-zhaan The karaoke super friends recombine to re-create スチャダラパー's 1995 el classico of much the same name to the sounds of the tabla drum. Make sure to get everyone involved!
bug seed - Street Mentality Listened to a bit too much bug seed this year - ha, there's never too much.
Damu the Fudgemunk - HISS Abyss EP Unreleased instrumentals from Damu's various 'How It Should Sound' series. Volumes, 3, 4 and 87, or something like that. Ooooo, blue vinyl.The beat tape re-revolution continues...
‘Now, normally when you see a special about jail, it’s on regular TV
and there’s a lot of shit they don’t show. Oh, not the HBO jail specials...’
- Chris
Rock
The above quote is one
I used before to describe HBO's 'The Wire', but if there was ever an HBO show
to attribute this quote to, it's 'Oz'. But where 'The Wire' unfolds like a
novel, 'Oz' is a more formulaic approach to television, playing out like a soap
opera.
''Oz': The name on the
street for the Oswald State Correctional Facility, Level 4.'
- Augustus Hill
The line that greets
nearly every episode, introduced by wheelchair-bound cop-killer Augustus Hill. Like
all US TV shows, each episode of 'Oz' comes with a moral message, quickly to be
forgotten by the start of next week's episode. But, unlike the convenient
closures to justify thirty minutes of ignorance typically displayed by US
sit-coms, the messages present in 'Oz' are less easy to swallow, offering no
solutions and posing a question rather than an answer to the audience. In this
sense, 'Oz' acts as a lesson in social studies.
But this is one side
of 'Oz', a show that fills many roles: a violent drama; a platform for social
comment; a critique of the US prison system; homosexual titillation;
entertainment camp enough to match any soap opera; an addition to rappers'
pension funds. But watching 'Oz', there are several things, good or bad, that
are evident throughout:
There are no easy answers:
Tim McManus, head of
the 'Emerald City' wing of the prison is part prison warden, part liberal sociologist.
His belief is that prison should be more about rehabilitation, not punishment.
'Emerald City', therefore is an area where the prisoners have greater freedoms,
with a more open policy, with glass cells offering literal transparency, and
everything out for all to see.
But, these pesky
criminals don't get this, exploiting the freedoms offered to get away with (actual)
murder, betraying McManus' trust in them, failing to learn lessons, for the
most part. McManus' constant struggles to keep Omar White out of trouble are a
father's trying to do right by his prodigal son, only to see him fail time and
time again. In the age of neo-liberalism, we all spout how change comes from
greater understanding to get through to people rather than simply punishing
them, but for this to happen requires greater social change and transformation,
McManus realising this every episode.
August Hill's lectures
throughout each episode also pose difficult, often unanswerable questions about
the workings of US political structures, prison systems and man's general
inhumanity to man. To see social change, humanity needs to evolve, but the
human mentality can't keep up with the endless pace of the modern day milieu.
Weren't you in 'The Wire'?!:
'Oz' ran on HBO from
1997-2003; 'The Wire' starting in 2002. Much of the cast of 'The Wire' popped
up in 'Oz' before, many in smaller roles, before making bigger names for
themselves in the seminal show. 'Oz', while trying, can't match the same level
of depth in its commentary; a more short-hand version of society's ills, but is
a quicker and more easily digestible form; a more casual watch. All round, it
has the feel of an audition for what was to come.
Alongside the cast of
'The Wire' are many Nineties rappers popping up here and there, with Method Man
and LL Cool J making brief cameos, while Lord Jamar and muMs are in more
regular roles; the latter often reciting his poetry to reflect storylines.
That, and Ernie Hudson
from 'Ghostbusters'.
Sausage-fest:
There are a lot of
dicks and arses in 'Oz'; literal and metaphorical. There are a lot of excuses
for largely unnecessary male nudity within the show. Whether it's getting
thrown naked into the 'Hole' for naughtiness, good ol' fashioned buggery, or
just standing about with your tackle out, pissing into a bucket, every episode
comes complete with some quick flashes of meat and two veg. Part of the
contract for featuring is that all of
you must feature.
Obviously being an
all-male prison, there are various boy-on-boy (usually
Nazi-on-middle-class-whitey) romances/violent bum sex scenes, but the amount of
nudity is usually unnecessary. Notable scenes where Irish naughty boy Ryan
O'Reilly walks into the evening light to show off his semi-tugged falace; and
Chris 'bi-sexual sociopath' Keller pissing into a bucket while in the 'Hole'
for ten seconds of non-meaning television.
The creators and
writers would not suggest homosexual titillation for the show; and the number
of typically tolerant rappers in the cast would also suggest as much. Perhaps,
being a 'soap', it is to keep the housewives interested.
Small World:
As with any good soap,
'Oz' revolves around about two places. But here, the cast are in a prison, rather
than the self-imposed narrow universe of typical soap operas.
Apart from grainy
flashbacks as to what brought each character to Oz in the first place,
everything is contained within its walls. All scenes are indoors, in a small
number of locations, creating a claustrophobic feel, reinforcing that
monotonous world of everyday life in a prison.
There is no going
outside: Once you're in, you're in.
Is it Really Like this?!:
'There is no yelling, no fighting, no fucking...'
- Diane Whittlesey
I've never been to prison;
no really! Least of all a maximum security US prison. I've not even been to the
US Embassy. So, I come in ignorance. But, harking back to Mr Rock's comment
earlier, is it really like this?!
All the prisoners are
greeted to the above rules; all of which will be broken within their first
twenty-four hours, if they survive that long, of course.
But c'mon: All this sex,
murder, drug trafficking, pissing in buckets - all overseen by corrupt guards
that have their price - how true to life is this? This is a question I can't
answer, but the televisualisation (my word) of prison life here is to entertain
the audience, in the same way that any soap will show a fantastical (not my
word) version of reality.
Not my Brother and Fuck your Mother!:
'In Oz, you don't have
friends, just people that look like you.'
- Miguel Alvarez
One thing that's
always got me about US popular culture - and I could be wrong here - but there
is often a preoccupation with what makes us different, rather than what makes
us the same.
In one episode in
particular, McManus has his designs on a 'The Warriors' style world, where four
delegates from each of the ten known groups will reside in Emerald City. These
groups include: the Arians, the Italians, the Homeboys, the Hispanics, the
Christians, the Bikers, the Muslims, the Gays, the Irish and, of course, the
'Others'. Naturally, chaos ensues.
But in 'Oz', there is
very much an air of self-segregation, each group keeping among themselves,
choosing to either do business or fight with each as the winds change. A
dangerous 'Us' and 'Them' culture exists, one still with us today with recent
political changes.
As Augustus Hill's
lectures would suggest: 'Can't we just all get along?!' To which each and every
episode responds with a unanimous 'No!'
Everybody Dies:
In the same way that
everybody gets their tackle out, everybody must die! Most episodes introduce a
new character to the party, and, more often than not, they may no longer be
part of the cast by the start of the next episode. Fed to the wolves of Oz,
outsiders are often met with aggression, often resulting in death.
Death row is a
predominant feature of 'Oz', often posing the moral question as to its
existence. But, with the sheer number of killers committing further and further
murders while in prison, pretty much everyone in 'Oz' should be there, failing
to rehabilitate themselves. The last series (not season), seeks to resolve a
number of the long-running plot-lines, culminating in key characters' deaths.
Many are sent to Oz to die, though this is often the result for those that
aren't.
I originally watched
'Oz' on Channel 4 late night, in the days before it decommissioned 'Big
Brother' and simply became Big Brother. Due to the scheduling, I watched the
odd episode here and there, rather than following the storyline through.
Though, to be honest, as with any soap, it's pretty quick to pick up the
storylines.
Recently re-watching
it in its entirety close to two decades before it was launched, it's clear that
this is a show largely from the Twentieth Century: before 'box-set' series became
endlessly drawn-out developments, unfolding like novels, post 'The Wire'. This
is more a magazine, providing easily digestible social comment and political
looks at life.
A prison drama, this
shows some of the darker sides of the US, intentional or not. 'Oz' is a world
where drugs, violent crime, sex and prejudice rule; and good intentions are punishable
by death.
Or is it just me
over-thinking everything and being confused about my own politics, here?! I
should probably be locked up.
Mr. DJ MIGHTY MARS with a bit of the ol' Fantastic Romantic Radio, number 10 in the series, in fact. Called 'Cold Heat'?! Do I hear Scha Dara Parr 'Nice Guy' and EVISBEATS and that?! Oh yes... Tunes and words, Mr Man!
South Korean director Hong Sang-soo is a man that can be easily
associated with that popular and age-old joke: ‘A South Korean film director
walks into a bar…etc., etc., etc.’ Pretty much all of his films revolve around
people sitting in some sort of establishment where alcoholic beverages can be
purchased, discussing the ins and outs of their – usually sex – life, as the
booze continues to flow. Most of the lead characters (typically male) are
artistically-troubled film directors, serving in roles of university lecturers
and film festival panels, where younger and more female humans are their
subordinates, leading the still young enough Mr Director to try and make his
power remove their underwear. If it’s in a drunkenly awkward scenario, the better.
Soo, what am I saying?! All
of his films are the same?! That is something that could very much be said. A
large proportion of his films revolve around a very similar premise and, being
in the more art wing of the house, plot and story development are not major
players. So, it could be interpreted that this is a one-trick pony, making the
same old film yet again, which you didn’t much care for in the first place,
like a sporting team that loses every week, never learning from their mistakes.
Interpretation number one out of the bag, what’s the second? A more
positive light on his films would suggest a director exploring the different
directions his characters can go, both within films themselves, but also
throughout his body of work. Starting from the same point, he explores the
right moves, the wrong moves, the very wrong moves, with good ol’ Captain
Hindsight there at the end to let the protagonists know what they should have
done. Life can switch in a moment, depending on a (usually drunken) impulse and
can lead us to many different stories and success with each option open to us.
The characters often languish in melancholy, unaware as to how much they truly
are in control of their own destiny.
‘HaHaHa’ (2010) is a brilliantly-named film, though, as with most Hong
films, is not as laugh-out-loud (that’s how you spell LOL) funny as the title
would suggest. Two friends, one obviously a film director, meet for drinks
before the filmmaker jets off for Canada. They discuss their recent adventures
over beverages, discovering they have both just been to their small home town.
Discussions soon turn to the fairer sex (sexist) and, known to the audience,
but unbeknownst to them, they had both been having fun with the same girl while
in town.
The shots of the present conversation are still in black and white,
with the dialogue flowing over them, before the memoirs are played out for the
camera; perhaps the film’s ‘gimmick.’ The two leads are pawns for the audience
as we can laugh at the pair ending up in the same places with the same faces,
though each is unaware that this was the case, with the same scenario played
out, though the lead male changing each time.
This is an archetypal Hong film, involving drinking, liaisons with
women, a film director, and repeating the same scenario to different outcomes.
A subtle comedy, as they all are, what differentiates this film is the still
shots to accompany the initial recollections before switching to the action and
the male protagonist changing alternately.
Similar to this, but just involving one man, who works in film, are
‘The Day He Arrives’ and the recent ‘Right Now, Wrong Then’. In
the former, a film lecturer arrives in Seoul to meet up with a friend for a few
days. Along the way, he bumps into various characters and ends up in various amorous
situations. The next day, he bumps into the same various characters and once
again ends up in various amorous situations.
A 'Groundhog Day' scenario, the 'hero' essentially lives the same day
three times, the people he meets and places he winds up the same, though the
journey of the day varies each time. This, therefore, feels a little like watching a spot-the-difference competition, essentially watching the same short three
times, just with some tweaks to the dialogue but always resulting in drunken
conversations and lip-locking. This is very much a Hong film.
'Right Now, Wrong Then' follows this idea of the same situation being
played out, though this time only twice: A film director gives an introduction
to his new film at a provincial film festival. Bored for what to do next, he
meets a young artist and the two gradually get talking, visiting her apartment,
going for sushi and late-night drinking. To start, things go well, only for the
relationship of the pair to worsen as the story progresses. This is 'Right
Then, Wrong Now'. But we're only halfway through the film.
The second half starts 'Right Now, Wrong Then', with the same scenario
played through, though this time the meeting of the pair starts off less than
friendly and gradually becomes warmer as the story progresses. The main reason
for this is the revelations that the director offers. First time around, he is flirtatious,
wanting to meet the undies of the young artist, not revealing he is married, so
when the truth comes out, it hurts. Second time around, he is more honest,
letting it be known that he is married to start, perhaps why things are more
cold to start. But as they get to know each other, feelings develop more.
A repeated criticism of Hong's films is that there is little end point
to them: They are drunken bumbles that end up in poorly judged intercourse.
Though 'Right Now, Wrong Then' has a bit more to it than that, looking at the
nature of truth in relationships and how honesty is probably the best policy.
All of Hong's films have a fish out of water element, with people
arriving in places somewhat alien to them. 'Hill of Freedom', perhaps my
favourite Hong film, features Japanese actor-man, Ryo Hase arriving in Seoul, a
former linguistic teacher there, searching for a former student he fell in love
with. But she's not there; sick, she has gone to the mountains to recuperate. Left
on his own, he spends his days drinking with locals, sleeping with women and
speaking hilariously broken English. Most of this is in English, making this
perhaps Hong's most outwardly humorous film.
With her not there, he writes her letters, leaving them at her school
reception. Though when she collects them, she drops them, losing their
chronology. with no dates added, she reads them at random, the film played-out
with no order of which to speak, again adding to the humour.
While still featuring a male role superior to that of his female love
interest, this is something of a different film in that no one admits to being
a film director. Rather than repeating stories with slightly different
journeys, here Hong plays with non-linear storytelling. This is perhaps why it
is quite short. Though kept light, here he is more creative and varied with his
ideas.
The Japanese dealt with, Hong has also looked at Europeans in South
Korea, namely the French. Though for 'In Another Country', Hong offers more of
his usual offering. A writer starts a story about a French film director,
naturally, arriving in a small sea-side town. Here she sits about, drinks,
eats, gets bored, looks for a lighthouse and gets flirty with the local life
guard. The same story is then told again twice, with the same cast, though the
characters change each time, apart from the life guard.
Firstly, she is a French film director; secondly she is a woman
arriving to meet her film director lover in secret as they have their affair;
thirdly she is a woman recently divorced, her husband having left her for a
Korean women.
Being a white woman, perhaps Hong is commenting on Korean attitudes
towards Western women, everyone telling her she is beautiful, when all three
guises of 'Anna' (played by real-life French female Isabelle Huppert) clearly
are not. While the English dialogue is humorous in 'Hill of Freedom', here is too
awkward, acted woodenly and none of the characters likeable. Here all Korean
men are sexual predators and French women irritating and coquettish. There is
no end to any of these three journeys, and this is a script that perhaps Hong
should have left in another country.
Two potentially more conventional films from Hong are 'Nobody's
Daughter Haewon' and 'Like You Know it All'. The latter features another film
director in an unknown setting, taking on the role of panel judge in a small
film festival. But he doesn't care much for it, more interested in one of the
young organisers. Getting drunk, however, the night ends a mess, with the young
female disappointed by him not taking a more senior role and protecting her
when vulnerable. A falling out with a friend over his young wife also leaves
him feeling a little mythed.
Taking some time off, he visits a film school where he lectures,
meeting his old teacher, now married to his former lover. More drunken antics
ensue, leaving our hero in a spot of bother, hapless when it comes to alcohol
and women. Hong plays with Director Koo here, unwittingly finding himself in
various scenarios where he ends up taking all the blame. Though as he keeps
ending up in these scenarios, despite the new faces and different setting, he
fails to learn from his mistakes, repeating the same scenarios. Ironically for
a Hong film, however, this is more of a linear film, so while not a repeat of
the same scenario, he is a man destined to go round in circles.
'Nobody's Daughter Haewon' has a similar elder man/younger female
relationship, but is more from the perspective of the female, though not
entirely. Feeling somewhat orphaned as her mother leaves for Canada, she
re-ignites a secret affair with her former teacher. But spending time together,
the secret is soon out, leaving Haewon feeling further alienated. More brooding
than comedy, this is slightly more straightforward in terms of narrative,
though is a somewhat complex piece.
These last two lack some of the ‘gimmicks’ of the previously mentioned,
though are less distinct than some of his other works. Indeed, these 'gimmicks'
can serve as the point of differentiation between his films: the stories
similar, the way they are told is what you perhaps take away. Though not just
similar thematically, Hong has a definite style exhibited throughout his films.
His use of long takes gives a naturalistic feel to his films, the actors
seeming to be thinking of what to say as the camera rolls, making it seem
improvised and stuttering, though conversations don't really happen with the
sharpness that films suggest. These long takes come with lengthy dialogue
between characters, putting the world to rights over alcohol; the camera often
zooming in to draw the audience to listen closely to what is being said.
This is a limited analysis of Hong's films, and I have not seen the
full body of his works, though with a similar theme and style throughout, I'm
not sure if I need to. Other directors with a similar number of titles to their
name will have tried their hand at different genres and styles, though Hong
prefers to stick to what he knows, perhaps the bumbling directors drunkenly
floundering at younger women a reflection of his own life.
While for the most part enjoyable, perhaps it is time for Hong to call
time on the drunken conversations in his films and head home to prepare himself
for a new day and a new style. While each film has its own little gimmick, the
fact that the characters and scenarios are largely interchangeable makes you
sometimes feel you are watching the same again.
Tatematsu Wahei (wahey!)’s ‘Frozen Dreams’ was a book that I had spied
in the old second-hand bookshop in Balham – you know, the one that’s now an
estate agents. I didn’t buy it, because I’m your classic rubbernecker. Though
recently at Camden Lock Books at Old Street Station, numerous copies were
available on the cheap. I only bought one.
Noboru is the responsible student leading an expedition into the
Hokkaido mountains in Northern Japan. Choosing the winter months as it would be
quieter, though obviously a lot more dangerous, the group set-off, with the
peak Poroshiri their goal, before they all head into the dreaded world of
full-time employment.
To start, this feels like the sort of book you’d find in Robin Ince’s
‘Bad Book Club’, with a cover that seems a bit simple and naff, with the
tagline ‘based on a true story.’ And to start, it does feel a bit like that.
Slightly strange, and perhaps unnecessary, descriptions are included, alongside
lusty images in the mind of key protagonist Noboru for the marriageable Yuko.
Perhaps the translation isn’t that strong, strange considering it is by Haruki
Murakami translator Philip Gabriel, but there’s something about the way it is
written that just doesn’t work.
But give it time, and as the journey progresses, the book starts to come
alive a little, happily as most of the characters die. Trapped under an
avalanche, Noboru awakes to realise he is the sole surviving member of the
party, but restricted by his predicament, he cannot move under the snow, and so
drifts in and out of consciousness. And this is where the main crux of the
story comes into play.
As he drifts in and out, he lapses into a dream world where his future
is played out for him. The story of his first job, apartment and marriage to
the now-lying-dead-beside-him Yuko are told and their endless days spent
climbing mountains together. It is the life the soon-to-be-graduate wants, but
will now never have.
For this reason, ‘Frozen Dreams’ becomes something of an interesting
story, with some nice ideas. Being that it is a fictional account of a
fictional future, it is difficult to suggest exactly have much is based on a
true story, but takes it away from feeling like a cheap and easy throw-away
novel for holidaying. But the first half is a little weak and takes some credibility
away from the book in the reader’s mind and, like Noboru, you wonder if it was
a journey worth taking.
Days to read: 10
Days per book: 14.9
The Analects (Confucius)
'I'm not confused.'
- Alan Partridge
The works of Confucius are the sort of thing that you feel you should
read as people refer to them here and there and you want to add your name to
the guest list of this intellectual party.
Now, I’ve read such things as ‘The Art of War’ and ‘Hagakure’, so I’m
accustomed to the style of these ancient teachings, much like members of the
Wu-Tang Clan or Bone Thugs-n-Harmony are. These are short nuggets of wisdom to
ponder, re-read and think ‘what the Hell is that supposed to mean?!’
The Penguin (quack quack) edition that I read has extensive background
setting from D.C. Lau, which probably serves as a more useful read, giving the
teachings some context and further explanation for the lay milkman, providing
approximate timelines of the life of Confucius and those around him.
There is a lot of repetition within the actual twenty books of ‘The
Analects’ itself; coupled with Lau’s text you feel like you are reading the
same pieces over and over. Also, outside of the actual context, many points
seem to lack application.
Nonetheless, you will learn a good few things about how you should live
your life: benevolence, basically. And how to impress people at parties you’re
not invited to, sat alone in your bedroom, night after night.
Days to read: 21
Days per book: 14.9
The Book of Fathers (Miklós Vámos)
This is a book bought for me for a number of reasons - that number
being two. For one, this is a Hungarian book and it was bought for me by my
Hungarian wife as a birthday present. For two, this, as the title suggests, is
a book about fathers, and the day before my birthday, I became a father for the
first time, and thus will not get any birthday presents ever again.
This is one of those books that can be considered an epic: it's got more
than like two hundred pages, or something. It charts the rise and fall of ten
or so (I can't remember) generations of eldest sons, starting off around 1700,
covering three hundred years of Hungarian history up to the new millennium. Naturally,
not just a story of family lineage, this is a Hungarian history lesson, the
many changes to the face a nation with ever-moving borders documented as times
move on.
A time piece is found by the first of the eldest sons and is
subsequently handed down to the next generation. Luckily, all have a son as
their first born. Alongside this, a journal is kept - the titular Book of
Fathers - which each son in turn adds to before passing it on. These two
heirlooms combined mean that each father/son/Hungarian has the ability to see
into the past or the future, using history to their advantage, or foretelling
their demise. Each is gifted, yet flawed, changing their name, religion and
even nationality, only to return back whence they came.
The family move across different parts of Hungary's geography, though
starting Germany, moving to Debrecen, Eger, Pecs and Budapest, migrating around
Europe and America along the way. Culture and the arts are developed, religion
is persecuted and wars are fought as history dictates. But with a book as
ambitious as this, it can often be difficult to get the ideas fully
articulated.
With many characters to cover, they can't all be fully developed, with
variation in the level of interest in each. Some pack a long journey into a
short life, while others burn out slowly and quietly. Following the nation's
history as well, much like some of the characters, you can see what's coming
and so certain chapters in the Book of Fathers are building to the inevitable. The
style of writing seems to develop as time passes, which could be to show the
development of language over time, or laziness in the writing/translation.
As with any family, this is a bit of a mixed bag, but I like ambitious
ideas, and while it may be a bit of a skim to fit three hundred years into one
novel, the changing of the guard means that you don't get too bored with any
one character. As we approach the new millennium and the book's conclusion, it
feels appropriate in the current climate, with migration shown as something
that has always happened, yet proving that the more things change, the more
they stay the same.
Days to read: 30
Days per book: 15.0
Content Provider (Stewart Lee)
As I don't read newspapers (they're essentially all scum that I
wouldn't wipe my arse with, unless really desperate after Villa beat Sunderland
away and the Sports Cafe in Newcastle doesn't have any bog roll, and someone
had left one open on a page that just so happened to feature an article about
West Brom), I don't get to read all these Sunday supplement articles by the
comedians whose newsletters I otherwise regularly subscribe to.
So, following on from the likes of Brooker, Mitchell, Iannucci, et al,
comes Lee. Largely formed by some of his Observer articles in the absence of
David Mitchell - holidaying with his wife, and Charlie Brooker and his wife - there
are also some other works for other publications, some not used.
Lee likes to mess around with his audiences, and many of these are
subversive works, written in the guise of 'The Character Stewart Lee'. Much
like his stand-up, there are lots of allegories to make political points,
always tinged with the juvenile. You, therefore, aren't always quite sure how
to receive each, some feeling genius, others just strange ramblings of a man
that should get out more.
But ever the mischief, Lee wants you to feel that way. The majority of
articles come with short introductions from 'the real' Stew Art Wee and are
followed by some comments left on the publication websites in response to the
works, the majority of which are negative, picking out the often deliberate
mistakes, set as traps to lure the armchair pundit into moral outrage.
'Content Provider' confirms Lee as an enigma, intent on dividing
opinion, as all good comedians should. Reading consecutively, this can get a
bit grating, like cheese, and so should maybe should be consumed an article at
a time, whenever you have five to ten minutes to sit down and put one away, you
know, like a - don't say it - toilet book.
The first lesser-known-Kurosawa film I saw was 1997's 'Cure', an
interesting psychological thriller about a detective trying to solve a series
of murders. It worked well and didn't fall into any traps that can so regularly
happen with films such as this, keeping the focus on the psychological aspects
rather than becoming too horrific.
I've since seen a number of his films, including 2008's
mini-masterpiece 'Tokyo Sonata', gaining him greater international acclaim,
particularly on the festival circuit, and as such his films are met with
expectation, though perhaps mixed reviews.
'Creepy' is very much a film of two halves. It pains me to say that this
is 'Cure' meets the Shia LaBeouf-driven 'Disturbia; largely for two reasons:
for one, I've reviewed a film as 'X' meets 'Y'; and secondly the admission that
I have seen the Shia LaBeouf-driven toss bag.
The first half is something like the vein of 'Cure': a former homicide
detective and expert in criminal psychology takes a role as a lecturer
following an attack by one of his suspects. Soon realising - on what appears to
be his first day - that the life of an academic isn't quite as fast-paced, he
starts to look at an unsolved case, from a purely research perspective, he
tells his wife.
It is here he uncovers a mysterious story of a family that disappears,
leaving only the daughter behind; a daughter that can't remember nothing. All
this is being played alongside the middle-aging Takakura and his wife moving to
a new neighbourhood, next to one neighbour that makes it very clear they couldn't
give a damn about you; the other, the slightly odd Nishino, played by
strange-faced Teruyuki Kagawa.
Gradually, as Takakura suspects, the two stories start to merge, with
Nishino all that he seems on the surface in the head department as well. The
revelation, however, sees the film take a turn for the worse. Much like
LaBeouf's neighbour in 'Disturbia', Nishino's strange, homemade death dungeon,
that seems implausibly dank in a typically suburban household, is uncovered,
with all the psychological images you'd formed in your mind now shown to you on
the screen.
In the second half of the film, Kiyoshi Kurosawa decides against the
psychological, focusing more on showing the crimes in facto (Latin), which
takes away all the first half might have been building. The more that is shown,
the less 'creepy' it becomes. This is a disappointment from a director that has
worked to create such good psychological pieces in the past.
The mystery is too easily solved, and the suspense is lost, feeling
more like an out-and-out horror, that isn't particularly, well, creepy.
