Showing posts with label Ten Years. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ten Years. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 November 2018

Ten Years Japan

In an age of ever-increasing technology, art has been showing an increasing anxiety at these increasingly rapid developments towards "Terminator 2: Judgement Day". Armando Iannucci lampooned it with "Time Trumpet"; Charlie Brooker has shat his pants over it with "Black Mirror"; and in 2015, five young directors from Hong Kong were tasked with expressing anxieties at the changing political climate in Hong Kong post-hand-over to China. Set ten (count them) years in the future, "Ten Years" featured five short films showing possible futures for the people of Hong Kong as China's influence increases.

Three years later, the producers of "Ten Years" have moved towards other Asian countries, with a trilogy of "Ten Years Thailand", "Ten Years Taiwan" and "Ten Years Japan". The latter (the one I watched), executive produced by respected film man Kore-eda Hirokazu, is made in the same vein, looking at themes that are universal, but are specific to Japan at the same time.

The first, fourth and fifth films are more specific to current Japanese anxieties:


"Plan 75" (directed by Chie Hayakawa) is a gentle pace-setter, looking at concerns of Japan's ageing population. The problem no secret to the world, the "Plan 75" scheme is a government-sanctioned euthanasia programme to offer a happy solution for all. But when the scheme is taken up by a young employee of the scheme's mother-in-law, his pregnant wife is less than happy; and the reaction of a young man as he sets up a stall at a train station show that this solution is full with difficulties in an increasingly less-human political landscape.

"The Air We Can't See" (directed by Akiyo Fujimura) is perhaps the weakest of the bunch, as humanity is forced to live in underground bunkers, following a nuclear meltdown. Young Mizuki wants nothing more than to see beyond the concrete walls that surround her world, while her mother wants to keep her in a secure bubble. But while recent tragedy make this a very real concern, futures where nature is taken away from humans is one done many times before, making this a little bland, like the walls surrounding Mizuki's days.


The final short, "For Our Beautiful Country" (directed by Kei Ishikawa) has the return of Japanese militarism at heart, and is one of the stronger pieces on display. A poster for recruitment for the war effort is deemed too old fashioned by the Ministry of Defence, and a young advertising exec is sent to the house of the ageing designer to tell her the bad news. But instead of an awkward conversation, he is treated to food and video games with a playful old lady and daughter of a war veteran. She is well aware of why he has come and it was her intention all along the make her design unappealing to the young. War is not something she wants advertised.

The second and third segments are more universal themes."Mischievous Alliance" (directed by Yusuke Kinoshita) is straight out of "Black Mirror": school children signed up to a scheme where they wear a headset that tracks their movements and behaviour. Big Brother surveillance surrounding the grounds, the children's behaviour is constantly monitored and messages designed to shape their future careers are pumped into their minds at all times. The imminent death of the school horse prompts one boy to rebel against it and its consequences. A clear dig at Japanese school systems, this is perhaps one school day not to be too fondly remembered.


"Data" (directed by Megumi Tsuno) again has "Black Mirror" at heart. A young girl whose mother has died starts to get anxious as to the mother she never knew when her father wants her to meet the new woman in his life. A data passport allows you to "inherit" the social media data of the owner. As such, she opens up a can of worms, seeing words and images without context. Discovering things she wished she probably hadn't, she begins to question her own life and situation. Her father, seemingly well prepared for this, helps her see that real relationships are better than virtual ones.

As with the original "Ten Years", it's a little bumpy, though the quality is perhaps more consistent overall - the Hong Kong original switching between strong works to the down-right bizarre. But made on a budget with novice filmmakers, this is to be expected. Also, with only an average of around twenty minutes, ideas cannot be fully explored and formed, making the more simple ideas, such as "Data", work more effectively at getting their point across.


One thing that is noticeable with "Ten Years Japan", however, is that while the Hong Kong original was borne out of genuine political concerns, the Japanese version feels much more like an extension of a successful idea. As such, the five stories feel more like pilot ideas for "Black Mirror" rather than genuine political statements about the way the world is turning. The ideas are at times clever, but never cut too deep - as previously stated, feeling quite universal as opposed to the more specific concerns affecting Hong Kong. Technology is more a feature of anxieties here, as well as the demands of an ageing population and increasing nationalist sentiment. Though these are themes that are hardly specific to Japan alone.  

But while not perfect, "Ten Years Japan" has enough good ideas and filmmaking on display to get you thinking. It's just that the thoughts here might be ones you've already had.

Sunday, 9 October 2016

Ten Years (60th BFI London Film Festival Part II)

What I like when I go to a cinema is to pay West End prices and have the projectionist take three attempts to show the correct subtitles on a film. Well done the Price Charles Cinema! It's not the first time I've had failings of the digital age - DJs have had their over-reliance on their MacBooks exposed when they crash, lost with little to do except try and re-boot as soon as possible. While it just takes a moment's patience from the audience, it doesn't put you in the best of moods to start a film.

I, therefore, got three attempts to view the start of the opening short, 'Extras' as part of the five short stories that make up 'Ten Years'.

'Happy Together' by Wong Kar-wai is one of my favourite films, an allegory of two gay men from Hong Kong travelling across Argentina, seemingly exiled from home. A film made just before the UK's hand-over of Hong Kong in 1997, the anxieties of what will become of Hong Kong over the next fifty years have been something looked at in the arts, as well as played out in the real-life streets of the SAR.


'Ten Years' is five shorts set in and around the year 2025, ten years after the film was made: in 2015, Maths fans. Each take a more-than-slightly controversial look at various aspects of life and how they could be changed in the future, as China's influence grows. I'm sure China took kindly to it.

'Extras', the opening tale, is regarding two Triads, chosen to be pawns in a political chess game with public opinion. The National Security chiefs feel that their role will be undermined, with little fear among the populace. Therefore, the two hapless Triads are offered big money to shoot at two politicians, creating public fear, highlighting the need for Security Forces. An inside act of terror, this is one for conspiracy theorists all over. The short itself, however, is fairly simplistic and feels a little amateurish in execution. It's probably best that this one flies by at the start.

 The second is by far the strangest of the quintet, and left me feeling even the actors don't really know what is going on. A couple of 'specimen collectors' go about their 'research' in an abandoned building, but little is really clear as to what exactly they are doing, or why. With parts that remind of György Pálfi's 'Taxidermia' and others 'The Shining', this is a random collection of 'specimens' of scenes, thrown together with little coherent story to speak of.

The first two a bit weak, thankfully the third picks up the pace greatly. A taxi driver struggles with the new policy that all drivers must speak Putonghua instead of Cantonese to be able to pick up certain fares. This leads to comedy moments as he tries to learn pronunciations of words, such as 'David Beckham.' But for the driver that previously had to learn English to get work now struggles with another language being forced upon him, potentially taking his livelihood as a result.

The fourth is probably the most controversial, a mockumentary about someone self-immolating themselves outside the British Consulate. Speaking with various academics and writers on the subject of protest movements, it tells the story of a young student whose imprisonment inspired others, as they try to identify the silent protester. It speaks of many subjects, relevant in light of recent movements in Hong Kong, and how these could tragically develop as the years pass.


The fifth and final story is of a vendor whose son, along with all other children, has to take part in activities on behalf of the government, keeping surveillance on all shops and points of sale. The smallest of things will be noted, with common sense forgotten as the young children blindly follow orders. Picked up for advertising 'local eggs', when the approved 'Hong Kong eggs' should be used, he questions his son as to what it is he is doing in his role, concerned that his son is becoming a brainwashed trooper for the secret police. But soon he learns that his son has been assisting some of the shops he is sent to keep an eye on, showing that independent thought and protest are still alive and well in the future's youth.

These five Orwellian visions of what may become of Hong Kong are varied in quality, but all raise interesting anxieties present among a people as to what the future may hold. Well, maybe not 'Season of the End'. As a UK resident, while different in their circumstances, the situation in Hong Kong reflects the uncertainty that surrounds the UK's political future and what impacts, with various doomsday scenarios playing out in the minds of all concerned, if you're bothered, that is.

It could prove that there is little change afoot, but the human mind cannot cope with uncertainty, and Hong Kong has another thirty years of anxiety ahead of it before anyone's ideas can be founded.