Every 14 Days...(41)

Never Let Me Go (Kazuo Ishiguro)

He's just won the Nobel Prize. Let's all go out and read his books. Of course, I already have...read two of his...the first two...set largely in Japan...because I'm like that.

As indicated, this is the third Ishiguro novel that I have now read, though where the first two worked for me, this one less so. 

Kathy is a carer reminiscing about her school days at the isolated and somewhat sinister Hailsham School. Now caring for her former class mates, we learn how her relationships with those she cares for developed.

With the children at the school asked to create works of art to be used in a sort of barter system - those standing out chosen for the mysterious "Gallery" - the children's intrigue creates tension in their relationships with the teaching staff. As the children grow older, they are able to learn more about their lives and their inevitable fate: Hailsham is a school for clones essentially bred for their organs, hence Kathy's role as a carer for her former classmates whom have already made their "donations."

There are interesting ideas about the nature of friendships between the three lead characters, as well as creating a sense of intrigue as to what the "Gallery" represents. However, when the element of the children bred as clones becomes clearer, the almost science fiction element loses me to an extent, just not really being my thing and removing a little of the book's intrigue.

The children coming to terms with their situation, being both human and not human, is where the strengths lie: sex simply recreational and something that the pupils just do; and forming a relationship a rumoured way to delay becoming a donor. But the context in which they are placed doesn't work for me - this is me being me, not speaking for others - and as such loses a bit of its soul...as well as a kidney or two.

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.1

Shooting an Elephant (George Orwell)

Having polished-off all of his novels, I thought I'd take a look at some of his essays. This collection, under the title "Shooting an Elephant" is a bit of a mixed-bag for me, though this is in a large part down to my own interest in the subject matter of each.

The titular essay is among the more interesting, referring to his days as a policeman in Burma and an obvious situation that arose; likewise "A Hanging". Indeed, the shorter works that show clear influence on - or parallel - what would become his novels and more detailed books are the best. "The Spike", "Looking Back on the Spanish Civil War" and "How the Poor Die" among these. Those looking at writing also are among the stronger efforts.

The longer essays, however, I found less engaging, largely because they are depth analyses of subjects of which I hold little interest - or at least pretend to show externally to appear a cool kid. The analyses of Charles Dickens, boys' weeklies and Gulliver's Travels are overly long and thorough for subjects I know little about.

But what do I know?!...I know the number I'm thinking of right now.

Days to read: 26

Days per book: 15.1

Underground (Haruki Murakami)

Judging by the bookmark I found sitting in it, I first read this when in Kyoto circa 2008. I was inspired to read it again after recently watching Kore-eda Hirokazu's "Distance" looking at the relatives of members of a fictional cult that orchestrated a terrorist attack on Tokyo. 

Looking at the Tokyo Gas Attack by Aum Shinrikyo of 1995, one thing I remember the first time around, perhaps confirmed this time also, was that the second half of the book - "The Place that was Promised" that features interviews with former Aum members - is the more intriguing. This perhaps goes against Murakami's original intentions to give a voice to the victims he felt ignored by the Japanese media, as well as perhaps being a little insensitive to the victims themselves interviewed in the opening chapters.

But, as with "Distance", looking at the motivations behind those that join such a cult is an unanswerable question often explored from the wrong angles. While interviewing the victims, he allows their version to flow; while with the former members, he is more challenging and questioning of their side.

As not an interviewer or sociologist, there is perhaps something a little lacking overall from "Underground" in drawing its conclusions. Though with the subject matter, this was never possible anyway.

I seem to remember once reading that "Underground" was all made-up. Though I probably made that up myself...

Days to read: 31

Days per book: 15.2

New Japanese Cinema (Tom Mes and Jasper Sharp)

This is a book I remember looking at in a shop about ten or eleven years ago. About ten or eleven years later, after much deliberation, I finally bought it. Reading this now, about thirteen years after its original publication, perhaps slightly downplays the "new" element of the title, looking in anticipation at the potential futures of new directorial talent to emerge along with Japanese cinema's temporary rebirth in the Nineties.

But given that a lot of the careers of the featured directors faded out after its publication, or international fame didn't particularly materialise, this does prove an interesting timepiece for the brief re-emergence of Japanese cinema on the international stage, covering many films probably still deserving of more international recognition two decades later.

I took my time over this one, quite unfortunately reserving this as something of a "toilet book": polish off a review while you polish off a...in some cases, yes. Though this does allow for time to do your own research and hunt down some of the films featured.

As previously mentioned, I probably read more about cinema than actually watching films these days; and of the ninety-seven (count them) films reviewed by Messrs Mes and Sharp I can now say that I have fully seen thirty-five (count them). Though interestingly, I have been more inspired to watch several films referenced, but not fully explored, by the pair. In that sense, delaying my reading of this book has been a nice way to discover some films, rediscover some others and perhaps encourage me to get round to watching some of the ones I probably should have by now.

In that sense the "new" is relative.

Days to read: 189

Days per book: 15.1

Every 14 Days...(20)

Boy (Kitano Takeshi)

I often read about Kitano being a modern-day renaissance man, adding painting, writing and everything else possible to his more famous film and comedy work. But apart from some of his artwork appearing in his films, I had never actually consumed any of it.

‘Boy’ is my first dip into one of his many other sides, but is fairly typical of some of the themes present in his films, if you take ‘his films’ to mean ‘Kids Return’. But I’m being facetious. ‘Boy’ is three, very simple short stories about 3 boys growing up in Japan. There is nothing particularly ground-breaking here, but simple tales about how young men find themselves in the world. The simplicity seems to mirror his script writing: starting with a  basic story and watching it evolve as the film is made. 

But they are nice enough stories, showing the Kitano is a man with many talents, though maybe creating something visual is where his real skill lies.

Days to read: 5

Days per book: 15.7

Lush Life (Richard Price)

I read the Richard Price novel 'Clockers' and found it to be brilliant - definitely one of the best books I have read in recent times. But, while good, the two subsequent books of his I have read have gradually decreased in quality. 'Samaritan' was the next read, followed now by 'Lush Life'.

'Lush Life' is very much a variation on a theme from 'Clockers' and 'Samaritan': Once again an innocent man is hounded by the police who believe his story to be false. It starts well, drawing the reader in, as Price is skilled at doing. However, where 'Clockers' and 'Samaritan' switch mainly between the stories of two lead characters, 'Lush Life' seems to continually switch between various different characters in bite-size chunks. Like a Dan Brown novel, this makes it easy to read, but does become difficult to keep you interested, constantly switching between characters with every other page.

While another overall satisfying read, it just doesn't draw me in as much as 'Clockers', and with lots of side stories for the various characters starts to drag going passed the half-way point. But, that said, you always get your money's worth with Price.

Days to read: 20

Days per book: 15.7

Each of Us (Ben Moor)

After reading ‘More Trees to Climb’, all I wanted to do was see Ben Moor live. That isn’t all I wanted to do, of course; some toilet breaks were necessary. So, on hearing that his latest show was coming to a Tube station near me, I jumped at the chance to do something more interesting on a Sunday evening.

After the performance, I got a copy of ‘Each of Us’ signed by the rather shy and flustered Mr Moor. Reading it within a week or so of seeing the show, I was of course reading the script of what I had just seen performed. I, therefore, read it in the manner of the performance (in my head! That would just look peculiar on the Tube), picking up some of the clever wordplay that I missed live.

Seeing the story performed live and reading the book are two separate things that can both be equally enjoyed. Whether watching the performance or reading the never-ending puns, both are pretty damned splendiferous.

Days to read: 4

Days per book: 15.6

Flowering Blood: The Cinema of Takeshi Kitano (Sean Redmond)

On seeing ‘Flowering Blood’ come up online as a ‘suggestion’ of something I might like to purchase, I thought ‘what the flip, give it a go.’ But should have realised that there is little to really add to the analysis of the films of Kitano Takeshi beyond what has already been written. And lo, this proved the case.

Coventry-born Redmond’s analysis starts off fine enough, seeing the world through the eyes of a starry-eyed film fan, making a pilgrimage to Japan in search of the film locations he so loves. But, being an academic text, it soon becomes lost in its own sense of over-explanation. At times, it feels more a collection of different theories thrown together than a real look at his work, and struggles to grab the attention enough.

While there are a couple of additional bits of light shed on the films, it relies a little too much on the works of previous authors, not justifying its overall length, focusing more at academic theory than the films themselves.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 15.5

Iron Man: The Cinema of Shin'ya Tsukamoto (Tom Mes)

For some reason - probably the recent re-release of both 'Tokyo Fist' and 'Bullet Ballet' in the UK by the excellent Third Window Films - I have been watching a lot of the films of Shin'ya Tsukamoto recently. In turn, this has prompted me to read Tom Mes' book charting his films up-to-and-including 'Vital'.

My previous reading of the works of Mes came with his two analyses of the works of Miike Takashi: one good, one less so. Luckily this falls under the former, charting his youth as an amateur filmmaker, experimenting with his brother, through his theatre days and working as an advertising director right through to his internationally recognised 'A Snake of June' and 'Vital'.

'Iron Man', the name of the film that first brought him fame, is an appropriate name for this analysis. His films always tend to be on the more extreme side, favouring fast camera work and graphic violence throughout, never letting up for a moment. And this is exactly how he works, not just as a director, but writer, actor, editor, cameraman and just about everything else that is required in the making of a film. Telling the story of how he works non-stop to produce and finance his films shows an all-round filmmaker doing whatever it takes to get a film completed.

Days to read: 10

Days per book: 15.5

Every 14 Days...(17)

Re-agitator (Tom Mes)

A full decade ago, plucky Dutchman, Tom Mes wrote a full and complete work on the films of Miike Takashi: 'Agitator'. With the director's recent fame at the time from films like 'Audition' and Ichi the Killer' gaining him international acknowledgement, 'Agitator' came at a good time to fully explore the first twelve or so years of the Japanese director's efforts.

Fast forward ten years, and the international success of his work has seen him move from straightforward straight-to-video releases to bigger budgets and bigger ambitions, with his name gaining further respect throughout the world. Following him all the way, Mes has continued his writing on Miike and his films, culminating in the release of 'Re-Agitator: A Decade of Writing on Takashi Miike'.

From the outset, in Christian Storms' less than articulate foreword, it is made clear that this is not 'Agitator Part II'. And that it is not. Whereas 'Agitator' was an in-depth look at each of Miike's films to date and themes and patterns emerging throughout his work, 'Re-Agitator' is a selection of various random writings by Mes on Miike that have appeared on various websites, DVD sleeves and at international film festivals. And this is a shame.

While 'Agitator Part II' may have been a little underwhelming as a release, perhaps a re-release of the original book with a new second half, with analysis of the Miike films in the same vein may have been useful. 'Re-Agitator', while claiming not to simply be a fan-boy book, clearly is, with no additional analysis or interpretation really added, going over some old ground. Little criticism is offered, with digs more at critics of Miike themselves rather than any negative words said against the man.

'Re-Agitator' offers a couple of insights, such as his various trips to European film festivals that have subsequently started, but not much more. Each film he releases seems to be more of a masterpiece than the last, which is, of course, not true, making 'Re-Agitator' seem the mere work of a fan-boy it claims it will never be.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 15.9

The Sea of Fertility Tetralogy (Mishima Yukio)

To say Mishima's magnum opus is a sum greater than its parts would be true. The four books written between 1964 and 1971 tell four separate tales of Honda Shigekuni, who in each encounters a different reincarnation of his deceased boyhood friend, Kiyoaki; each in turn dying at the age of 20. Each book looks at a different period of Twentieth Century Japan, and how the nation has changed over this time.

'Spring Snow' begins with the death of old Japan, with the aristocracy fraternising with the wealthy to their downfall. 'Runaway Horses' looks at the growing appeal of 'The League of the Devine Wind' in the build up to World War II. 'The Temple of Dawn' focuses on the importance of Buddhism in Japan, focusing on the tetralogy's key theme of reincarnation. The final book, 'The Decay of the Angel', completed on the day Mishima would commit seppuku, examines the awareness of the self. In each, Honda tries to save the Kiyoaki-incarnate from their certain fate, each time to fail, as they move on to their next life.

Individually, none of the books is a masterpiece in its own write: the intention that there would be a following chapter leaving no satisfying conclusion, until the end of the last. None particularly work as a standalone piece either, and so all four have to be considered as one. What you're essentially left with, then, is a four-figures of pages long novel which begins to drag and struggles to maintain the interest. Each of the books feels like an over-long chapter in a greater story: that of Honda and how his life evolves over a sixty year period.

Mishima, at times, adds far too much detail into the works. Throughout there are long break-offs including extracts from diaries and pamphlets that are long-winded and feel poorly done. At times, Mishima can write well; at others, he is far too detailed, over-explanatory and has his characters mull over things to the last. The motivations of the characters are a point that sits a little badly with the reader at times, never fully believing in them. Though this is something that would match with Mishima himself: a married gay man, he was a nationalist who travelled and dedicated much of his time to bodybuilding; a right-wing radical that modelled.

But with the ambition of 'The Sea of Fertility', Mishima has taken an interesting look at the life of his home nation. With his political views, the work is a reflection of his thoughts about the changing nature of Japan; thoughts that would prove his legacy.

For fun, with each next book, I chose to read an earlier edition, as a sort of reincarnation reversal.

Spring Snow

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 15.9

Runaway Horses

Days to read: 26

Days per books: 16.1

The Temple of Dawn

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 16.0

The Decay of the Angel

Days to read: 19

Days per book: 16.1

At Home with the Agitator

Having finally got round to viewing the Kitano Takeshi films that I’d purchased while in Japan, I was then inspired to re-watch some of my old DVDs from another favourite Japanese director: Miike Takashi.
Having purchased Tom Mes’ critique of the overworked director’s offerings many moons ago – but never getting round to actually reading it – coupled with the recent release of ’13 Assassins’ (the film, not some rouge murderers), this seemed like as good a time as any to hold a bit of a Miike retrospective.
I set about drunkenly purchasing some further Miike films online (not all of them, of course, as they would take a whole year to watch) and made my way, one-by-one, through the films in my collection over the next couple of months, turning pages through Mes’ book along the way.

Starting, in no particular order, with ‘Visitor Q’ – a brilliantly insane place to start any look at Miike’s work – when an unnamed man randomly comes to stay with life’s ultimate dysfunctional family. This did mean, however, that this retrospective did start with an awkwardly filmed sex scene between a father and his prostitute daughter; which is as good a place to begin as any. Spending time with each member of the family one-by-one, they gradually put their differences aside and become a closer dysfunctional family, rather than the constantly arguing one of the film’s beginning. With very much a home-movie feel, the results feel more like a budget soap opera than a feature film, but feels appropriate for a piece on mini, domestic drama, with the subject matter exaggerating television’s attempts to show troubled families.


Returning drunk from the Wu-Tang Clan, I then watched the tale of a Brazilian-Japanese on the run from the yakuza and triads alike: The City of Lost Souls. As in many Miike films, here he looks at foreigners in Japan, this time one of my least favourite nationalities: the Brazilians. With various nationalities thrown together in Tokyo, here we see how major, cosmopolitan cities can be turned into moral-less battlegrounds, with no guiding influence dominating over another.


Miike’s first direct-to-cinema film – after years of V-cinema releases – ‘Shinjuku Triad Society’ is the first in his ‘Triad Society/Black Society Trilogy’. Looking at the life of a somewhat corrupt cop as he tries to take down Shinjuku’s triad and yakuza worlds (there’s a theme here!), many themes that would run throughout Miike’s work are apparent. Bloody violence, sick and twisted characters and foreign influence, notably Chinese, are all here, with a number of subplots throughout, making this quite a clever and accomplished ‘bigger-budget’ debut release after years of obscure and meagre works.


Speaking of obscure and meagre works, the ‘Bodyguard Kiba’ films are examples. Much like TV movies running alongside major, theatrical releases, the V-cinema market of straight-to-video releases in Japan is where Miike started his directorial career. Here, you can find genre-fodder, with action, comedy, erotic, whatever films are made without any real budget or intelligence, designed for Saturday nights in with beer and popcorn.
One of the few available with English subtitles in Bodyguard Kiba. Designed to be a kung-fu action piece, this this is very much a film that proves the only nation capable of making good kung-fu films is China. With wooden acting from the lead, he serves merely as his name suggests: a bodyguard to a more important character. Fairly predictable and easy to follow, there are, however, some early signs of future skills on display here.
‘’Bodyguard Kiba’ was followed up by two sequels, only one of which is available: Bodyguard Kiba II: Apocalypse of Carnage’. Here, neither apocalypse nor carnage are apparent, nor indeed is the slightly bigger budget on the original. What is evident is bad dubbing and bizarre scenes I’m not sure even Miike himself is aware what they were meant to symbolise. Fortunately, ‘Bodyguard Kiba III’ is unavailable on DVD. One can only imagine how bad this, and some of his other V-cinema releases, must have been.


It was at this point that I started reading Tom Mes’ book on Miike’s work: ‘Agitator: The Cinema of Takashi Miike’, while waiting for the Eurostar to Paris. The only serious review of Miike’s work, in English at least, the crazy Dutchman takes an in-depth look at each of his films (up to 2002), begging, borrowing and stealing copies of each made up to that date. Starting off with an analysis of the themes running throughout Miike’s work, Mes then makes his way through the V-cinema years up to 1995, before examing each of his works from ‘Shinjuku Triad Society’ onwards. Well-researched, comprehensive and in chronological order, this is clearly a much fuller account of Miike’s work than mine.


Now, this is where the fun starts. Not wanting to blow my load too soon, I decided to hold off ‘Dead or Alive’ for a moment when bored. What better time than when in Paris?! Probably my favourite opening six minutes of a film, you barely need to watch the rest when the opening features: noodle-splatting shotguns to the belly; a crazed man snorting metres of cocaine; a pair of breasts; and the slitting of a homosexual rapists throat.
Luckily the rest of the film, while not as fast-paced, is equally as good as the introduction. Hard-working detective pursues a Chinese-Japanese as he and his gang wreak havoc in Shinjuku and Yokohama. As each torments the other’s life, it ends with a who-can-get-to-whom-first chase, culminating in a completely farcical ending, intentionally, of course.




As a drastic change of pace, I switched to one of Miike’s other, better-known works: ‘Agitator’. Based on Murakami Ryu’s book of the same name, it follows the story of a middle-aged producer, who, with the help of his casting director buddy, decides to hold a fake audition in the hope of finding an attractive new wife.
Starting off as a slow-moving love story, with many traces of mainstream cinema, as the film progresses, it gradually takes a sinister stance, building and building into a strange dream sequence, ending with a disturbing finale. Along with ‘Ringu’, this was one of the first in the wave of J-Horror films to flood the UK around ten years ago, becoming a minor classic. Highlighting this is the fact that on revisiting my DVD copy, I realised that the liner notes were written by non-other-than Joe ‘Adam and Joe’ Cornish of recent ‘Attack the Block’ fame. The words ‘balls, balls, balls, footy, footy, footy’ seem quite apt here.


As the Miike trilogies are linked more by theme than plot or characters, ‘Rainy Dog’, the second film in his Triad Society trilogy, is barely linked to ‘Shinjuku Triad Society’, the trilogy opener. Rather than Chinese in Japan, we now see a Japanese in Taiwan, alone and cut-off from his previous life back home. Working as a hitman for Triads, his skills soon attract more attention than he would care for, with murder and betrayal leading him to become a wanted man.
With his probable son dumped on him and a prostitute companion following him along the way, it leads to inevitably tragic consequences. Interesting characters and the majority of the film in Mandarin give the film an authenticity; and the wandering, loner – typical of Miike’s protagonists – showed this is a good follow on from the trilogy’s first film, and Miike’s development as a big screen director.


What have we here? A cry-baby hitman that shoots his load at the thought of killing someone; and a yakuza with a penchant for cutting his own face up. Oh yes, must be ‘Ichi the Killer’. Along with ‘Audition’, this is probably the Miike film most known around the globe, and is probably the standard by which expectation of Miike films are set. Incredibly graphic violence, to the point of comedy, flood the screen, making it one for the gore hunters seeking to be shocked by outrageous scenes for entertainment.
Thankfully, this goes beyond simple soft snuff porn. Here we see Miike with bigger name actors with a relatively all-star cast, led by Omori Nao and Asano Tadanobu as the leads. Also, the films switches between fast action scenes and slow-paced character development, blending an interesting mix of styles, creating a sinister edge to the bright lights of Shinjuku’s Kubiku-cho district.
The undoubted bigger budget clearly brought the need to draw audiences in, which this did when released ten years ago. Though financial success here is coupled with artistic merit, as clearly one of Miike’s best works. Though the extent it would lead audiences to view his more challenging works is probably the tragedy here.


His difficult second album. Here we have a case of a film’s title being perhaps its biggest hindrance. Similar only in name and leading actors, ‘Dead or Alive 2’ is nothing like its predecessor.
While the opening scene of ‘Dead or Alive’ fits more in six minutes than most directors do in their entire career, here we see fellow director Tsukamoto Shinya telling a story using cigarette packets. One wouldn’t be surprised to see audiences disappointed that it lacks the same explosive opening.
What is seen here is a completely different change of pace. Two hitmen return to their orphanage home on the small island where they grew up., escaping the wreckage of a recent job. Showing a soft side, both care for children, putting on a play for the current residents of the orphanage before using the money from subsequent hits to fund vaccines for children in Africa, leading to an unusual montage of murders with images of starving children in Africa.
A clear homage to the nostalgia of youth and the loss of innocence in adulthood, ‘Dead or Alive 2’ is hardly a stand-out piece and seems more a filler track on the album of Miike’s career. Not that it would be a bad album…


Hearing the words ‘Takashi Miike’s Agitator’ conjures up an image of a deranged killer that derives sexual pleasure from performing disturbing acts on the nerve endings of his victims. The film’s tagline ‘thank you and fuck you, Brother’ are more telling of the film’s content.
In an uncharacteristically extended film, the relationship between older and younger brothers within a yakuza family is explored. Many acts by older brothers are often cruel, including faking their own death to force them to a surprise birthday party and abducting them from their delivery boy jobs to drug and tattoo them. Though the loyalty and admiration the younger brothers hold for their increasingly dangerous brothers is also looked at, inevitably leading to their demise.
A character piece in a violent setting rather than a violent film, ‘Agitator’ again shows Miike’s range of film-making skills, though always giving his own, unique twist. Avoiding over-the-top graphics and special effects, ‘Agitator’ shows how Miike can work with a story and deliver strong acting performances – a film in which he himself appears – as well as choreographing violent displays and shocking his audiences.


Not just content with making straight-to-video films and silver screen entertainment, Miike has also turned his hand to a number of TV series. One such series is MDP (Multi-Personality Disorder/Detective) Psycho. Now, when I watch a television show (which is becoming and increasing rarity), I like to have some understanding of what’s going on.
Watching MPD-Psycho, I had little idea as to what was actually happening. The story surrounds a police detective hunting down a personality that switches between individuals, leading them to commit increasingly strange, yet visually impressive, murders. This means that people’s personas can change mid-episode, making it as difficult to understand as possible.
The plot is not the only weakness here. Poor, slapstick comedy is thrown in for an obvious TV audience to try and keep channel-flickers in, and episodes conclude with long, complicated and detailed explanations of the episode to fill all the inevitable plot holes.
But, while the storyline is confusing and far from engaging, it is a visually impressive and very creative series, using techniques and styles that would be more typical in an anime series than a live action one. Though while interesting to look at, it’s not fully worth sitting through all six hours to enjoy.


‘Blue Harp’ was a film I knew little about before reading Tom Mes’ book. Indeed, I don’t think I’d even heard of it before opening it. But the more and more I read about it, the more and more I became intrigued by it. I was, therefore, glad that I was able to find a copy from Germany that had English subtitles.
Again looking at foreigners in Japan, here we have Chiiju, a half-Japanese, half-Afro-American barman-turned-harmonica player in a small, industrial town near Yokohama. After helping out of a scuffle, he befriends yakuza, Kenji, a closet homo-gay who is plotting to kill the head of his family. The pair have plans to make it big in their respective worlds and dream of a better life, in what could almost be described as a commercial set up for the film. Indeed, there is little in the way of strange imagery and gore here, appearing as a very conventional piece.
But being Miike, there has to be something different. Mainly set around the club where Chiiju works, in-between shots of Kenji getting beaten up, we are treated to shots of bands performing live, giving a music video feel to a lot of scenes. Released in 1997, it is like watching early-90s MTV when they still put out some decent stuff. Though like music videos, it can skip on details and character development in places.
A film that could easily get lost in the vaults, I liked this and it is another example of how Miike can at times be his best when creating something a little different from even his own work.


‘Ley Lines’, the third and final part of the Triad Society trilogy, is perhaps the most artistic film Miike has directed. With grainy images and deep colours covering the shots, ‘Ley Lines’ feels very much influenced by Wong Kar-Wai’s ‘Happy Together’, filmed two years previously. In fact, the choice of music and slow, areal shots also create a feeling of Wong’s work.
Like ‘Happy Together’, ‘Ley Lines’ again follows the theme of Chinese in a foreign country; this time obviously Japan. Two orphan brothers and a friend leave their hometown for Tokyo, quickly getting themselves into trouble with prostitutes, petty crooks and the Triads.
The three have a distinct naivety when entering the big city, clearly displayed when attacking the triads for money to fund their escape to Brazil. While the characters are naïve, Miike’s directing isn’t, visually brilliant to look at in places, ending the trilogy on a high.


With making as many films as Miike does, there will inevitably be some moments that are easy to miss. Films that neither stand out, nor are particularly bad; neither unique, nor copycat; neither adding nor subtracting from the overall body of work.
‘Deadly Outlaw: Rekka’ is one such film: A film that will neither win much critical acclaim, nor box office success. Essentially a shoot ‘em up with no real plot necessary, it follows Kuni as he seeks revenge for the murder of his father. Bang here, bang there, bang everywhere. Barry Scott could have starred in this.
Written by yakuza, with a soundtrack by a psychedelic rock band, there are more side features than interesting parts in the film itself, and unnecessarily long slow motion shots serve little purpose in plot or style. Still, he’s made worse.


‘Fudoh: The New Generation’ is something of a changing point in Miike’s career. While theatrical releases preceded it, after ‘Fudoh’ he would makes these much more regular. This is also a stylistic change. Feeling like more of a budget release, but also has a good structure, and features elements that would appear in later, better works.
With his yakuza father murdering his older brother, Fudoh junior sets about creating his own gang, with his group of children soon becoming the strongest power.
Fun more than anything, ‘Fudoh’ represents the new generation of Miike films.


Another Dead or Alive film, another different story and setting, yet the two main stars once more. Here Takeuchi Riki and Aikawa Sho are in the year 2346 in a typically apocalyptic future where a crazed ruler has set strict childbirth laws, creating a band of rebels fighting for what’s right.
A pretty standard premise, done many times before, though Miike does use some interesting ideas. In the Yokohama of the future (or Hong Kong, the real life set – it is the largest Chinatown in Japan, at least), Chinese culture rules, with most of the film in Cantonese. Indeed, Japanese is only spoken by the two leads, with everyone else speaking Cantonese and English, yet all understand each other, showing a possible future of communication.
But it’s in the making of the film that the problems arise. Filmed on location in a very-obviously-Hong-Kong Hong Kong, it’s difficult to take it as a Japanese landscape. The viewer, therefore, feels lost and confused as to where they are and what is going on. A key character dying halfway through the film shows how the plot never really ever fully develops.
‘Dead or Alive – Final’ is very much the final film in the trilogy. Clips and references to its two predecessors arrive at the film’s climax, which is as equally strange and perplexing as the aforementioned. But while it has a couple of interesting ideas, the film never really gets going and so the trilogy’s conclusion is a welcome one.


When Miike had established his reputation and became a regular theatrical director, he should have probably left his V-cinema past behind. But as a director that continually works, he inevitably ends up back where he came from: Directing poorly conceived pieces.
‘Family’ is a return to his past life: A small budget piece about three yakuza brothers. Despite being made at a time when he was making bigger budget films, it seems strange that he would make something that is so obviously bad. Written by regular collaborator, Hisao Maki, while Miike chooses to direct so many films he’s written, the fact that the budgets are so small and he doesn’t try anything too outrageous shows the weakness of his friend that is clearly a bad influence.
This is simply one in a line of bad collaborations of easy, uninteresting gun shooting, with someone he should leave behind.


Being a director that tackles many different styles, Miike would have to inevitably do a musical: It’s the test of any true director. ‘The Happiness of the Katakuris’ is that musical; the story of four generations of one family setting up a guest house in the country. Any guests that they do get end up dead. Though no fault of the host family, but seeing it as bad for their already failing business, they choose to bury the dead as if they were never there at all…and, obviously, sing about their feelings.
Based on the Korean film ‘The Quiet Family’, Miike puts his own unique spin on things, with songs that are simultaneously bizarre, camp, enigmatic and terrible, but always entertain. The film is packed with strange moments – particularly any that feature supposed British-Japanese Navy Captain Richard. Essentially, anything goes here, but with Miike, that’s a good thing.


Perhaps coming of the back of the success of his previous films ‘Audition’ and ‘Ichi the Killer’, Miike Takashi’s ‘Box’ was included as part of the ‘Three…Extremes’ collection, featuring three shorts from the ‘Asia Extreme’ market of China, South Korea and Japan.
The final segment after ‘Dumplings’ from China and ‘Cut’ from South Korea, ‘Box’ is perhaps the strongest of the three offerings and very much an arthouse piece. The international success clearly brought a larger budget for a short with it, with the camerawork, acting and style much more conventional than other Miike works. No fast montages, special effects or extreme violence; this is a very slow-paced and considered work, feeling quite like Takeshi Kitano’s ‘Dolls’.
This does, however, perhaps see an end to the peak in Miike’s popularity. Releases throughout the world seemed to die down after the flood of his films that came to be released when J-horror became a buzz word. In fact, ’13 Assassins’ was perhaps the first full UK release that Miike achieved, with films in between either poorly received or just not picked up by distributors.


One film that surprisingly didn’t get a UK release is ‘Sukiyaki Western Django’: An English-language (his first) Western featuring Quentin Tarantino. Marketing opportunity misse;, or just a film not worth watching?
Making a samurai-cum-western with an almost entirely Japanese cast that’s filmed in English is quite an ambitious move. English is clearly the cast’s second language, with delivery often exaggerated, giving rise to overacting. Whether intended or not, this is so comical it’s farcical. The film then becomes difficult to follow and seems to end up as a random set of gun fights thrown together with little purpose. It’s very much like watching a Tarantino film. What really is going on here?
Maybe Miike is mocking films of this nature, in how they aim for outlandish ideas and shots to make the actors look like cool icons rather than characters in a story. If this is a joke, it’s a ninety minute long one to sit through, and not worth the punchline. Post-modern film-making goes for over ambitious ideas and concepts that often detract from the basics of good film-making. The director is good, the cast is good, the film’s style at times is good, but all seem to fall down in a film that is stylistic concept rather than a story with characters.


On first seeing ‘The Bird People of China’, I struggled to believe it was a Miike film. While featuring a yakuza character, it, stylistically at least, features few Miike hallmarks. Though thankfully, this is as much a Miike work as any. Miike himself described his making of the film as proof he could make a ‘normal’ film.
Wada, a typical salaryman, is sent to China, to a rural village where jade has been discovered, in the hope of saving his company’s debts. Unknowingly, he is pursued by a typically aggressive yakuza, determined to ensure the company repay their debt to his organisation. While in the village, both go on a voyage of self-discovery, learning from the peaceful villagers and their idiosyncratic ways.
As in other films, the exploration of a negative desire for wealth is present, as is the locating of characters in a foreign setting. But what is most interesting here is how humbling the film is, with little in the way of experimental techniques displayed. While definitely a Miike film, this could have been directed by mainstream, big budget director, being a strong and accomplished piece early in his theatrical career.


Being from Osaka, earlier in his career, Miike made many films set in his home town. The sequel to a film he didn’t direct, ‘Young Thugs: Innocent Blood’ is similar to all Miike franchises in that each bears no resemblance to the next.
Four friends leave school to venture into the brave new world of violence. A common theme among Miike films, here the idea of lost innocence is, as guessed from the title, explored in depth. Relationships are broken, friends are made and lost and finally death when entering the real world.
Along with ‘The way to Fight’, the ‘Young Thugs’ films are deemed those most autobiographical of Miike’s films, being that they are about growing up in Osaka. Not ground-breaking in anyway, , ‘Young Thugs: Innocent Blood’ is a nice little film that probably has a few more personal touches than his other features.


After ‘Ringu’ there was a wave of copycat J-horror films, looking at as many aspects of modern living as possible, filling us with fear of all objects. ‘Ringu’ assaulted the television; subsequent films took on the Internet, mirrors, wigs, among other things. Miike’s dip into mainstream J-horror was to look at the world of mobile phones in ‘One Missed Call’.
People are receiving voicemail messages from their future selves at their point of death. The unfortunate parties then have a countdown until their point of demise. What becomes immediately apparent is that this film is ‘Ringu’. The countdown to the point of death, the modern media communications destroying us, the character types, the curse of a woman scorned; everything here is the same as the ground-breaking film by Nakata Hideo.
This is almost a Hollywood film – indeed, it did receive a remake – being that is very much a formulaic piece, throwing in typical popcorn moments. Being such a typical film makes this untypical of Miike. While it is a fairly accomplished, mainstream piece, it lacks the real spark and creativity you’d expect from him, though this comes with the territory of a bigger budget. Lacking the suspense and originality of ‘Ringu’, this is one that can be missed.


With a name like ‘Full Metal Yakuza’, Miike obviously felt the need to make it a bit more light-hearted in contrast, creating a film that can only be described as ‘camp as Christmas’. While the violence and token rape scenes are present in abundance, when we are given a rest from these, we are treated to some interesting costume choices and effeminate movements.
When killed along with his older brother whom he idolises, Hagane is brought back to life in Robocop form by the uber perverted Tomorowo Taniguchi. With his new penis of suitably large size, Hagane seeks revenge on those that killed him, culminating in a bizarre final scene.
An earlier work, Miike clearly decided to throw a lot of different ideas into the mix that would feature in other films, forming a blueprint for later works.


Sometimes, pieces of art are made that are designed to be strange. People will look at them and just say ‘that’s weird.’ ‘Gozu’ (translated as ‘Cow’s Head’) is one such film where weird seemed to be the key objective.
On realisation that he’s gone a bit mental, a yakuza, Minami, is tasked with killing his big brother and put an end to his strange course of behaviour. Accidentally ‘killing’ him en route to a yakuza dumping ground, it is when approaching Nagoya that things start to go strange for Minami-san, a bit like Gary Linekar’s football career.
Starting with a hilarious dog murder, ‘Gozu’ is a non-stop barrage of strange events and characters; some funny and inventive, others simply bizarre and incomprehensible. It would be easy to compare ‘Gozu’ to David Lynch’s ‘Twin Peaks’. And so I will: This is very much like David Lynch’s ‘Twin Peaks’.


The fact that it keeps becoming apparent that watching a Miike film doesn’t always feel like watching a Miike film shows that he is an extremely versatile director, and not just an out-and-out gore monger. ‘Sabu’, a period piece is quite a soft and gentle film about a man dedicated to his friend, originally made-for-TV, but lauded enough for a wider release.
It showed Miike could make more traditional, period dramas, as most Japanese directors do. But mainly it is an example of how varied Miike’s oeuvre is, taking on various genres, styles, techniques and approaches; with a very nice look and feel for a period piece.


To finish off this retrospective, I thought I’d leave the film that Miike describes as his favourite of his own films. ‘Young Thugs: Nostalgia’ is again a sequel that bears no relation to its predecessor, looking at an even younger group of youths growing up in Osaka.
The title obviously relates to Miike himself looking back nostalgically at his upbringing in Osaka. While not written by the director, it is obviously a piece that he felt was close to his own childhood and so created a film that is equally funny and tragic, with a group of young children taking on adversity with youthful enthusiasm and innocence.
While definitely not his best film, it is the one he clearly sees as most personal to him and one no doubt he looks back on with fondest memories


In Tom Mes’ book, he opens with a quote from Woody Allen, suggesting ‘I’ve always thought that the best way to make films was like a kind of blue-collar film maker, where you just work: you make a film and then another and another, and it’s not a big event, you just keep making them.’ This is without doubt the best way to describe how Miike works. Over the couple of months, I have watched 28 of the 85 directorial credits he has to his name over a 20 year career. At over four films a year, if one film doesn’t work, he can instantly forget about it with the next. Indeed, Miike himself stated that his fear of how films will be received can often see him jump straight into his next work; much like the way Tim Vine is with jokes.
This does, however, mean that he can experiment a lot within his films, as actions have no real long-term consequences. He’s proven himself a strong director, so can stray into different and new areas whenever the mood takes him. To stop himself from getting bored, he tries Westerns, horrors, musicals, samurai epics, gangster, comedies, kung-fu, mainstream attempts, TV series, science-fiction; he tries it all.
With the sheer number of films that he’s made, it is inevitable that some are going to be of poor quality, and indeed many experiments fail. The proportion of his films that can be described as good is, therefore, smaller than that of other directors, but those directors would never take the risks that Miike does. While he may not make consistently great films, he rarely makes a boring one and there is always a level of intrigue raised in watching his work.
His role as director is very much one that is self-aware; his choices and techniques directly influencing how a script will come to life and be received. Whoever wrote the script, whoever may act it out, it is very much Miike’s film, and it will take the direction he chooses.

Every 14 days...(5)

Where Did it All Go Right? (Andrew Collins)

To me, Andrew Collins was always the Thunderbird look-a-like that always popped up on nostalgia shows, occasionally reading his film column in my parents’ RadioTimes. But with his recent podcasts and working with Richard Herring, I have found myself interested by his musings and I am interested in subscribing to his newsletter, often seeing him at Richard Herring gigs, standing alone, with a beer and a somewhat smug grim on his huge-eyebrowed face.

‘Where Did it All Go Right?’ is his look back at his formative years in the 1970s from around the ages 5-18 (he does cheat and go into the Eighties). Recalling different aspects from his life, with the help of his childhood diaries, it’s the story of a normal and well-rounded upbringing, rather than a sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll car crash that many celebrities try to make their childhoods were as an excuse for being a thundercunt for the rest of their life.

Written with a fondness for all things nostalgic, musical and cinematic of the time, it is a charming look at a typical British upbringing. (Replace Northampton with any other British boredom hole.) Very personal as it is, referencing all those involved at the times, this can both be a help and a hindrance to the account. While creating the atmosphere of what it is like growing up in his family, it can, at times, come across as slightly arrogant that he has become the success of the family. Luckily, however, this soon disappears when adolescence kicks in and sarcasm takes place when describing the teenage Andrew Collins

How things could have been different…

Days to read: 8

Days per book: 16.3

In the Miso Soup (Murakami Ryu)

Another holiday, another short, quick read of a Murakami Ryu novel. Similar to ‘Audition’ before it, ‘In the Miso Soup’ is an easy to get into, well-written piece that can be consumed in a day or two. Divided into three chapters, it tells the tale of Kenji, a Kabucki-cho ‘sex tour guide’ who one night comes across an unusual client from America.

The first chapter fills with intrigue as to what is about to happen and sets the scene well for the rest of the book. Though the second replaces intrigue with all-out carnage and detracts a little from what is read before, throwing in blatant descriptions rather than mental imagery. Finally, the third chapter concludes the book with some interesting ideas and concepts, though it is relatively a ‘does the job’ ending than a great reveal.

Great for passing time when you have a couple of days with little else to do or motivation to think, I’ll probably read my next Murakami Ryu novel for my next holiday, whenever and wherever that may be…Japan, I know.

Days to read: 2

Days per book: 15.4

Agitator: The Cinema of Takashi Miike (Tom Mes)

This is a book bought a long time ago that I never got round to reading, moving it with me from rented accommodation to rented accommodation. With ’13 Assassins’ recent release and a quick flick through my DVD collection, I decided to do a little retrospective on one of the hardest-working directors in cinema: Miike Takashi

Reading the book while making my way through his films, the book put them in a new context, a lot of the time highlighting at what stage in his career Miike Takashi was when each was made. Extensively reviewing all Miike’s works up to the end of 2002, Mes focuses on overarching themes running throughout Miike’s works: group membership, loss of innocence in adulthood, and fish-out-of-water scenarios, to name a few.

Mes is generally spot-on in his assessment of the ‘maverick’ director’s work; and while some of the analysis of films read like plot descriptions, adequate length and detail is given to the more important films, with minors works pushed to one side. With it difficult to actually watch all of Miike’s films, Mes shows how one film follows another, with Miike ignoring blips in his career, moving on to his next piece having already forgotten it.

Days to read: 56

Days per book: 15.9

That’s Me in the Corner (Andrew Collins)

I read like Tarantino film: getting the order all wrong (and I’m quite tedious). ‘That’s Me in the Corner’ is the third book in Andrew Collins’ autobiography trilogy. Missing the chapter on his student days, as I continually had an certain R.E.M. song in my head as I made for the thid instalment about his various jobs, from Sainsbury’s trolley monkey to co-writer of Lee Mack vehicle, ‘Not Going out’.

The arrogance seen in ‘Where Did it All Go Right’ is present here, naturally when writing from the perspective of fan-to-editor of major film and music mags and hob-knobbing with societies rich and irritating. Though much like the first in the trilogy, this not permanent and only rears its ugly head at choice moments.

Having worked for the NME, Empire, Eastenders, Family Affairs (oh yes!), RadioTimes, etc., etc. it does give an interesting and honest account of what it is like to actually work in these ‘dream jobs’, putting up with the worst clients of all: Rock stars everywhere.

Days to read: 27

Days per book: 15.2