Tuesday 11 September 2018

BlacKkKlansman

Spike Lee is one of those directors that I like, though not perhaps one that I laud as I would others. He has made many films that I have enjoyed - indeed one of my all time favourites in "Do the Right Thing" - though while interesting, innovative and always politically-charged in his work, his films tend to be flawed in some way or other. Having said that, apart from 2013's misguided "Old Boy" re-make, I can't say any of his films haven't been worth my time.


It would also be fair to say, however, that like many other directors, as his career has got longer, his body of work has become less impactful. With much of his work over the last decade coming in the form of TV, documentary and music video, "BlacKkKlansman" is a welcome return to feature film form delivering his best film for many years.   

Based on, but moving away from, his memoir, Ron Stallworth (John David Washington) is the first black police officer on the Colorado Springs force. Left in archives, however, his uniqueness on the force see him used for undercover purposes to make sure a student rally doesn't get "out of hand." This taste of active police work sees him quickly moved to Intelligence, where apropos of nothing, he calls the local branch of the "Organisation" (the Ku Klux Klan to you and me) pretending to be a harmless white racist, eager to join. Discussions developing, the head of the Colorado Springs branch is keen to meet.

There is just one problem with that.

Enter fellow undercover Flip Zimmerman (face-seen-a-lot-these-days Adam Driver). With Stallworth the voice and Zimmerman the face, they create an alter-ego Klan member Ron Stallworth. Gaining further trust, they soon gain recognition within the Klan at a national level. As such, they soon uncover a secret plot among some members against student groups.


As the scenario suggests, there is something of a tongue-in-cheek sense of humour throughout "BlacKkKlansman". Stallworth able to convince members of the Klan that his is the voice of a white man, much to the amusement of his colleagues, particularly when making the rookie mistake of using his actual name and address. Sending a Jewish man to play the face also leads to numerous references to showing his penis to prove his whiteness (and not just with how small it is). As ever with Lee, political rhetoric comes with a sense of humour.

But there are more political messages - attempts at least. Stallworth, as the sole black police officer, sees himself as a pioneer, while his relationship with student activist Patrice (Laura Harrier) throws questions at him as to how a black man can ever work for a racist police force. But why can't he be both a police officer and proud black man? Zimmerman is a man who doesn't define himself by his Jewish heritage, but once spending time with the Klansmen, he soon becomes more aware of white society's views towards him. These are perhaps left unexplored to a greater extent, with entertainment more of a key factor, as well as lampooning certain individuals. One gets the sense that Lee and his fellow writers, Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz and Kevin Willmot, are making not-so-subtle references to the current political situation in the US throughout.

And it is thrown square in your face on the film's conclusion. A seemingly Hollywood happy ending, with lives saved, victory achieved and knockabout goofs thrown in, the team are told to destroy all evidence of the case, much to their frustration. This is then followed by a literal barrage of now well-known video footage of cars ploughing into protestors, alongside speeches from Donald Trump and David Duke (featured at a younger age in the film). From the euphoria of cinema, we are brought straight back to reality in a brutal way, timed and measured for maximum impact: true images more shocking than any fiction.


Much more slick than his earlier films, there are still flaws here: perhaps an indulgent dance scene showing Lee's music video influence; and some plot holes that could use some covering - natural when fictionalising true events for entertainment. The more mainstream edge on show here - less radical than his works in the Eighties and Nineties - lead to criticisms as to thechanging of the script and Lee's (lack of) showing the reality of what happened. Is the police "racism" Stallworth experienced shown as little more than childish name-calling here? Are the Klan members simply pantomime villains? Perhaps. Lee's recent work with the police to help improve minority relations could be seen as a motivation for some of the changes to story and character for a more positive outlook.

But the truth - maybe sadly - is this is a mainstream film - Lee a more recognised name in the industry than in his younger, more aggressive days - and Hollywood will always change the script in the name of entertainment. One cannot, therefore, be shocked by the lack of overall truth; and the choice for entertainment over education. For the merits of the film itself: Lee shows that he can still make feature films that cover the full range of making you laugh, cry, enjoy, rage and think. Your thoughts as to that though may not be so positive.

Sunday 9 September 2018

Every 14 Days...(46)


True Confessions of Adrian Mole (Sue Townsend)

After reading the first two Moles, I was unsure of what I would make of his "growing" into an "adult." The third instalment, "True Confessions of Adrian Mole", still has the at-heart idiot stamped all over it, though the format lacks the effortlessly humourous flow of its predecessors.

But as a book the "True Confessions..." are a bit false: It is more a collection of writing and BBC Radio Four pieces written in the period following on from "The Growing Pains..." as Mole develops into an equally unsuccessful adult. There is also a holiday diary from Townsend herself, as well as the obscure writings of young Margret Hilda Roberts.

Not as enjoyable as the first two books, but there is enough to keep you wanting to read the fourth; Margret Hilda Robert's diaries, blatant in their satire, closing this collection nicely enough. 

Days to read: 7
Days per book: 14.9


Another Kyoto (Alex Kerr with Kathy Arlyn Sokol)

Kerr's "Dogs and Demons" felt quite bitter in its tone and content. Well, maybe bitter isn't the right word, but certainly lacking in positive spirit. From it, you would not believe Kerr is a man who has chosen to live in Japan for many years and has an affinity with its culture. His latest book, however, "Another Kyoto" has more in common with "Lost Japan"; Kerr writing more from the perspective of what has kept him in Japan rather than what drives him to leave.

Starting with an anecdote from his days at Oxford University and stuffy old English professors critical of his modern, American ways for writing on Asian culture, Kerr has spun those criticisms to be his approach to this book. Based on his "walks" with Kathy Arlyn Sokol, Kerr has taken the idea of writing his musings down, aiming for a conversational tone, as if you were moving step-by-step with him as you read each word. In that sense, "Another Kyoto" is a travel guide for the pseudo-intellectual, Japan-obsessed onanist that I am.

What the book actually is, however, is a detailed and in-depth appreciation for the artistry and detail that has gone into the design of so many of Kyoto's buildings and gardens, making it one of the most visited cities in the world. The title "Another Kyoto" refers to offering another way of looking at the buildings, so if one were to visit again, a new appreciation will be available.

As his opening gambit suggests, this is not an academic analysis, but more a genuine and heat-felt pleasure from all things Kyoto - well, maybe not all things. And I certainly won't be looking at a wall or door in quite the same way again...but that's largely because I've been drinking.

Days to read: 14
Days per book: 14.9


Convenience Store Woman (Sayaka Murata)

A few years ago when I spent a few months in Japan, I soon amassed a quantifiable amount of the rather unnecessary play money that is the ¥1 coin. One activity, therefore, in which I frequently partook was waltzing (literally) into the nearest 7Eleven/Family Mart/Lawson and buying a bottle of ¥147 Pocari Sweat or Calpico, paying with a ¥100 coin and forty-seven ¥1 coins. I would then happily watch the machine-like efficiency with which the shattered, dead-eyed and excruciatingly polite konbini worker would meticulously count each and every of the forty-eight separate coins, thanking me for my trouble. It is one of the few joys in life.  

But what's it like from the other side of said transaction?

Keiko is an oddball from a young age, and in trying to conform to "normal" society, she takes a job at a convenience store at the tender age of 18. However, eighteen years on and Keiko is still working at that same convenience store; half her life in the store has seen it become her life. As such, Keiko now views herself, and her fellow workers, as simply "convenience store workers," and not normal human beings, like you or...well, not me. The food she eats is bought from the store and all life choices are designed to make her ready for each day earning a low income. It is when society's questions as to her career and marital status keep arising that she decides that maybe it is time to make some changes, though sadly, she has no idea how to make them.

Written by someone whom is "38 years old and works part-time in a convenience store," there is a quirky nature to the writing that is charming in its subtlety. Keiko's inability to view her world and those in it as human offers a humour, with her first person narration lovingly self-unaware.

You could read something into the social comment as to the nature of working life in Japan, society's' attitudes towards unmarried women and low income employees and Japan's growing reliance on migrant workforce, but this isn't exactly hard literature, but is light, quick and ingeniously convenient.

Days to read: 6
Days per book: 14.8


The Burning of the World (Bela Zombory-Moldovan)

Bela Zombory-Moldovan's memoirs is a book that essentially was never intended. Published to mark the hundred year anniversary of the start of The Great War, this is an English translation of discovered memoirs given to his London-based grandson and translator, Peter Zombory-Moldovan. Published several decades after they were written; "edited" by Bela's wife on giving them to her grandson; and then translated and edited for publication further, what is read is perhaps not what the Hungarian artist and former soldier intended.

But this is something which Peter is quick to note in his informative introduction. Zombory-Moldovan is perhaps not a name of great renown, and so a picture is painted of the grandfather, his life and the context in which the memoirs were written. While holidaying on the beach in 1914, Bela is suddenly called up for service with the outbreak of war. Returning to Budapest, he is then sent for training and an unnecessary regime of long marching - shattering the troops before they'd even started - before being sent to the eastern border to fight the Russian army.

Injured early on, much of these memoirs focus on his recovery back in Budapest and holidaying among friends and family. Back home he encounters people with views very different from the war he experienced firsthand. The air of optimism doesn't reflect what he knows of the army, its tactics and resources, seeing only defeat, while others see victory.

There are no huge revelations here, but it does paint a portrait of the outbreak of war and fighting on the eastern front from a firsthand experience probably in short supply.

Days to read: 15
Days per book: 14.8