Days of Being Wong

Having completed my Miike Takashi retrospective, I decided to look back at the work of some of my other favourite directors. Recently back from Hong Kong, having purchased ‘Fallen Angels’ while there – a film that was one of the first to start off my interest in Asian cinema – Wong Kar-Wai seemed the most logical place to continue my pathetic obsession.

My first experience with perhaps Hong Kong’s best director was an unwitting one, having watched the aforementioned ‘Fallen Angels’ as a teenager on BBC Two one Saturday evening after Match of the Day. Along with Kurosawa Akira’s ‘Rashomon’ and Zhang Yimou’s ‘Raise the Red Lantern’, this film took my interest of Asian cinema away from just kung-fu films and to the broader aspects of the cinema of China, Japan and Korea.

Entering my 20s, with a disposable income and a DVD player, I picked up some of his works, quickly falling in love with his artistic style and tales of heartbreak. On researching further, I discovered that he was the same man that wrote and directed the 1995 film I’d so enjoyed.

Having already seen all his feature films, I decided that I would take a look at his work in chronological order for simplicity, unlike my random and sprawling look at Miike’s…

Going back to good ol’ 1988, when Luton Town won something, ‘As Tears Go By’ doesn’t only sound like an 80s pop song, the film feels at times very much like watching a pop video from the coolest of decades. His first film, it is quite different to his others, showing maybe he’d taken some time to find his feet as a director and create his own brand of cinema. There aren’t really any lavish shots here and the score feels less considered, with many an 80s power pop tune thrown in for extra karaoke appeal. Violence is regularly on screen, and quite intense violence at that; a far cry from his whimsical tales of loves lost and tragedy.

The style isn’t obviously Wong, made at a time when all Hong Kong films were dubbed. Combined with the violence and choice of music, this feels like many Hong Kong films of the 80s, and could sit easily alongside John Woo’s works at the time, such as ‘A Better Tomorrow’. The dialogue is not as poetic as his following works and while it still looks good, it lacked the cinematography of long-term collaborator Christopher Doyle.

Featuring Andy Lau as a small time gangster, looking after his gung-ho younger brother, played by Jacky Cheung, it’s a fairly touching piece about their relationship and how the younger gangster’s petulance bring his older brother into unneeded trouble. Some emotionally-charged scenes follow, with the film ending in inevitable tragedy.

Technically, ‘As Tears Go By’ is a very accomplished debut, featuring traits that would be used again in later films, such as slow frame speed and a rushed focus. Wong would go on to work with many of the strong cast again, with this the starting point for various themes and styles that would run throughout the rest of his works.

His next film, made two years later, was an advancement in style and would prove much more consistent with his later works. Made in 1990, ‘Days of Being Wild’ was an early Hong Kong film to be shot with an actual soundtrack rather than being dubbed-on later. This gives the film a greater sense of style, class and credibility than ‘As Tears Go By’. Despite the same director and near identical lead cast, this is certainly not a film that can be equated to the likes of John Woo as his debut could.

His first time working with long-term collaborator Christopher Doyle as Director of Photography, the look of the film is sumptuous, with good use of colours and every scene feels well thought-out, much like their later collaborations. Style over content is very much the order of the day here, with a beautifully-shot film that is essentially about nothing; a theme that would run through many Wong films.

A lay-about, womanising playboy, played by my favourite England-educated, homosexual, Hong Kong singer/actor to commit suicide, Leslie Cheung, breaks hearts as he searches for the woman that broke his: his birth mother. Arguing with his adopted mother about her whereabouts, he leaves a trail of women behind, one of which (Maggie Cheung) spills her heart to wandering policeman, Andy Lau. The two male leads unwittingly meet in the Philippines, where the film culminates with an unnecessarily violent finale, before ending with a strange scene of Hong Kong housewife’s choice, Tong Leung Chiu-Wai, preparing for a night on the town – a scene that has little direct connection to anything else.

While not his best work, this was definitely the start of Wong’s niche in cinema, with beautifully shot scenes, expertly selected scores and tales of love and wonder. Very much modern film noir, that is low on plot and excessive in style.

If ever there were an archetypal Wong film, ‘Chungking Express’ would be it. ‘Days of Being Wild’ was a mere hors d’oeuvre to his next complete feature. Quickly written and filmed in a lapse in filming for his more grand and epic kung-fu piece, ‘Ashes of Time’, the film is about two unconnected, lovelorn policeman that pass through the Midnight Express takeaway stand near Chungking Mansions in Kowloon.

Split in two halves, the first follows Takeshi Kaneshiro, who continually waits by the phone to speak with his ex-girlfriend. While using the novel techniques to get over this fact of running and buying cans of pineapples that expire on 1^st May, he meets an enigmatic, blonde-wig wearing drug and human trafficker and soon falls for her. On discovering their love will never blossom, he fleeting brushes with a Midnight Express employee that soon becomes the love interest of policeman number two, Tony Leung Chiu-Wai.

Recently dumped by his airhostess girlfriend that went to ‘try something different’, he returns to the takeaway night after night, soon befriending the young niece of the owner, who mysteriously cleans his flat for him while he is out to the music of Mamas and Papas. He then returns to his flat, where he speaks to his household objects.

Clearly a film squeezed in-between the filming of another, this is quite a simple, little film, but a very effective one. Telling tales of coping with heartbreak, he uses various techniques here that would feature in many of his films, such as the long luscious shots of ‘Days of Being Wild’ and the slow frame speed of ‘As Tears Go By’. Probably his most written and talked about film, this is simple, effective film making…just make sure you like ‘California Dreaming’.

The first film by Wong Kar-Wai I ever saw, was probably a Saturday night when I was around 15 on BBC2, no doubt after Match of the Day. ‘Fallen Angels’ was a strange film on late at night that I had probably accidentally started watching, but kept on as my interest for it grew and grew. Along with Zhang Yimou’s ‘Raise the Red Lantern’ and Kurosawa Akira’s ‘Rashomon’ – both also late night viewings – ‘Fallen Angels’ was one of the three films to take my interest of Asian cinema beyond mere kung-fu films.

In many ways, it is like a sequel to ‘Chungking Express’, looking at the lives of Hong Kong night drifters, combining two separate stories and using narratives. The two leads are again applying unusual techniques to combat their loneliness and the musical accompaniment is dominant throughout. Aesthetics are taken a step further here, with extended plays of full songs over scenes without dialogue, looking very much like a series of music videos cobbled together through a loose plot-line.

This is not Wong at his best: the film has many bemusing moments and is not always easy to follow, but it probably doesn’t need to be. Slick, stylish and cool, but lacking in parts, with the characters (and cast) less interesting and impressive than in his previous works.  Though the 15 year old me must have seen something good in this; and the 28 year old me still does.

               

As well as feature films, Wong takes his directing skills to the worlds of shorts, music videos and advertising. While these run along similar themes to his films, they are often overly styled and result in quite pretentious pieces that serve as little more than accompanying media for a Selfridges perfume stand. Quick cutting and constant movement make them difficult to follow, as Wong tries to create an entire movie in a three minute piece.

Often, these feature big name actors from Hollywood and Asia, such as Clive Owen, Mickey Rouke, Forrest Whittaker, Tadanobu Asano and Faye Wong, to name a few. They look incredible, with brilliant colours, settings and camerawork, but try to do too much within their short capacity. Shorts funded by big name brands are billed as films (such as ‘The Follow’ funded by BMW or ‘There’s Only One Sun’ by Philips’), but essentially, you know you are watching a glorified advert.

These are designed to look cool and they succeed in this aim, but with overly complex stories squeezed into short time periods, there is no point bothering to follow them, making them nice to look at background shots. The video for DJ Shadow’s ‘Six Days’ and the short ‘I Travelled 9,000km to Give it to You’ are simply confusing, unable to create any empathy with the characters in a mere three minutes.

While a feature of his work for many years, these are much more reflective of more recent times, where bright colours and over-styling create a sense of cool in the often misplaced cry-babies acting them out, rather than the genuine romance and style of his earlier films.

With the handover of Hong Kong from British to autonomous rule before handover to China in 2047, Wong forced the completion and release of ‘Happy Together’ before 1^st July 1997. I would never have imagined that a film about two gay men from Hong Kong travelling across Argentina would be one of my favourite films, but with ‘Happy Together’ the context in which the film is made is key here.

With the imminent handover, Wong wrote and directed a film about the apprehensions of the people of Hong Kong about returning to Chinese rule. The liberal freedoms potentially to be taken from them, the gay couple in Argentina represent the liberty that they enjoy, while the troubled relations with their parents the disapproving hand of mainland China.

Context aside, the film is brilliantly made, earning him the Best Director Award at Cannes. The use (and lack of use) of colour, slow motion shots and soundtrack are expertly crafted and put together, as well as strong performances from the two leads: Tony Leung Chiu-Wai and Jackie Cheung. Criticisms have been made for the lack of a truly ‘gay’ relationship between them, feeling it more two straight men put together, which is true to some extent, despite Cheung’s real life homosexuality. Though the nature of the relationship serves more as a metaphor than a tale of gay love.

This is film-making as an art form, expressing an emotional state of a people, capturing a feeling of the time. On the surface, this is a very well-made love story, but scratch beneath the surface, and there is a-whole-other world of expression, with cinema and politics blending happily together. 

For his next feature, Wong chose to extent one of his shorts into a full length piece. Loosely part of a trilogy, including ‘Days of Being Wild’ and the following ‘2046’, it’s the story of two neighbours, one male, one female, that soon learn that their significant others are having an affair together. The respective wife and husband are never seen, and with their suspicions looming, the pair try to discover what led to the affair coming about, soon finding themselves in the exact same situation.

‘In the Mood for Love’ is very much a film to be watched. The style, look, use of colour are all expertly crafted, with the soundtrack again an important part of the film. The slow motion shots used throughout serve as a Garth Marenghi-style way of extending the running length of what was originally a hot, though these lush, slow scenes are the signature of ‘In the Mood for Love’.

Unlike ‘Happy Together’, there is little in the way of hidden meaning or political expression here: it is pure aesthetic film-making. Capped by typically award-winning performances by the two leads, Tony Leung Chui-Wai and Maggie Cheung, the film oozes the style hinted at in the final scene of ‘Days of Being Wild’.

The third and final part of Wong’s trilogy, ‘2046’, perhaps marked a turning point in his career. With the success, and the awards it brings, of his previous two films, the next decade brought a lean spell in his work, in both quality and quantity.

Bigger budgets brought with them ‘all-star’ casts, rather than strong acting performances; the use of colour became more garish than attractive; and CGI effects came into play.

‘2046’ is not a bad film, though it clearly lacks what came before it. Christopher Doyle was no longer present as Director of Photography, and so it lacks some of the originality of its predecessors. The longer running time does make the film drag a little, particularly as featuring many slow motion sequences as in ‘In the Mood for Love’. The soundtrack is lacking also - a normally strong fixture in Wong’s films.

While style was always key, it has now taken over. The way the film looks seems more important than the actual content here, feeling more like the videos and commercials he has filmed throughout his career, something that wouldn’t bode well for the future.

‘The Hand’ was the opening of a three part trilogy of shorts labelled ‘Eros’, featuring Wong alongside Steven Soderbergh and Michelangelo Antonioni. An improvement on ‘2046’, ‘The Hand’ was much simpler than its at times complex predecessor.

In a trilogy of strange love stories, here we see a young apprentice shown the ways of woman by a client he is tailoring for. Lending him ‘a hand’ on their first meeting, they soon build a long-standing affair.

Being a short, however, this is hardly an emotional rollercoaster and the tension never really builds. The look and feel are less overbearing than in ‘2046’, though this is one that can easily be missed. Again, alternate versions of soundtracks from previous films screams at desire to return to a better time in his career.

Like many before him – John Woo, Jackie Chan, Jet Li, Chow Young-Fat – Wong made the move to Hollywood, making his first English-language film in 2007. Like the others that made the move across, this was a bad decision, resulting in a film of poor quality.

Norah Jones, whose acting is only just a bit more annoying than her bland, soulless brand of music that plagues the film’s soundtrack, is a whiny, heartbroken girl seeking solace in Jude ‘I’m from Manchester’ Law in the café in which he works. To get over her recent split with her boyfriend and ‘grow up’, she takes an ever-so-predictable voyage of discovery across America to look and learn. The people she meets are horrible stereotypes, spelling out their soap opera problems to the young and naïve Norah so she can have an epiphany: She wants to shag Jude Law.

Maybe it’s the cross-cultural differences, but Wong’s whimsy just doesn’t come across in ‘My Blueberry Nights’. It feels far too simplistic and easy, with life coming up with nicely packaged conclusions. This is probably just me being pretentious in my passion for Asian cinema, but the script being played out by English speakers seems to take away the mystery that is usually present in his films. The only real strength of the film is surprisingly Jude Law, who is charming enough as the New York-based limey that serves Miss Jones her blueberry pie.

This was the third straight film to feature alternate versions to soundtracks from his work in the 90s, showing a clear nostalgia for his previous, better works as he searches to find the form that made him. ‘My Blueberry Nights’ is the last new production from Wong, and a few years have passed since. Talk was of him making further English language films, though thankfully these ideas have not come to pass, with his next works back in Cantonese.

To further that Wong was trying to recreate films of his past, his next release was ‘Ashes of Time Redux’, essentially a remix version of his 1994 work ‘Ashes of Time’. A film that took a long time to complete – indeed, Wong wrote, filmed and released ‘Chungking Express’ during production of the original – it was something of a lost work in his career, often overlooked or forgotten when put in the context of his work.

It’s re-mastering and release 14 years later was something of a necessity to ensure the film wasn’t forgotten, but also to drag Wong’s career back on track from the recent decline. Shot in the Chinese dessert, it looks very much like it inspired many of the scenes from ‘Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon’, being very much a kung-fu film focusing more of love stories than action sequences.

Wong is no kung-fu director, and the fight scenes are either slow motion with up-close shots making it difficult to see what is actually happening; or sped-up, giving life to a response that is more comical than intended. But genre aside, this is a strong, picturesque piece, using colour to good effect. With an exception team both on screen and behind the camera, this would have been a sorely missed work if left to rot in the ashes of time.

Pretty much all of Wong’s works feature some kind of nostalgic element: characters are often searching for a past love, though often find the need to make a fresh start and move on by the film’s conclusion. As if a character in one of his own films, as Wong’s career has progressed, it would appear that he is searching for elements of his past films in his new works. This has resulted in over a decade of declining quality in his films, as well as the quantity of feature-length new releases from him.

It may be that now it is time for Wong to move on and try and update the content and storylines within his films. With his next feature release to be the story of Ip Man, the man whom trained Bruce Lee at a young age, it appears that this could be the case.

Way Out East

One that nearly passed me by, the Raindance Film Festival hit London, with some slightly obscure Japanese films on the bill. Entitled, ‘Way Out East’ the films shown certainly were that, with the festival offering the chance to see some of the weird and wonderful new films from Japan.

Unable to get round to seeing all 11 films on the bill, I got round to seeing 4 of the offerings, with mixed results…

Youth 2: Come As You Are

I don’t think I read the premise for my first film at the Raindance Festival correctly. The title, ‘Come As you Are’ is quite literal, focusing on a man’s PE problem and his excessive masturbation in order to reach the magical 15 minutes duration before point of load releasing. For this, he enlists the help of his female flatmate and a sock.

Cue many a humorous scene and many a shot of the naked arse of the lead, who happened to be sat a couple of rows behind me, along with the director and female co-star for its international premiere. But far from just a wanking comedy, there is also a tragic element here about a man that works in a video shop who lies about an acting career and spends the majority of his time bashing the bishop, missing the youth that flashes before his eyes.

Fair play to the director, Kota Yoshida, for admitting that the film was based on his own fast download speeds after the screening of a fairly enjoyable watch. It’s unlikely that this will ever reach a wider audience in the UK, but I think that any fan of the Inbetweeners would LOL at this.

Sleep

‘Sleep’ is a film that it would be easy to sleep through; though at the same time, it is not. A dark, slow-paced film, it would very much facilitate the closing of eyes while sat in a darkened cinema. But, the various plot holes, controversial subject matter and character decisions at the same time can provoke thought and debate.

Raped as a 15 year old girl, we are taken forward 17 years to Kotono’s search for the man who raped her: the father of her daughter. Forced into prostitution to fund the search, ‘Sleep’ follows the life of an unconventional family set-up.

With overly sentimental scenes, the films seems to force emotion on the viewer, rather than allow it to come naturally. Also, the plot holes and stranger scenes can create confusion with some less-than-great storytelling. The film is well shot, with some good cinematography on display in some of Tokyo’s less desirable districts and the film should create enough topics for discussion to make it a worthy watch; just don’t lose any sleep over it.

The Whistler

Based on a story by Osamu Dazai, ‘The Whistler’ is a short by Tsukamoto Shinya of ‘Tetsuo’ fame; the first of 2 shorts dubbed ‘Kaidan Horror Classics’. A period piece about 2 sisters and their loves, this is rather strange territory for me for Tsukamoto, and the result feels likewise. The story never really gets going, with random bits thrown in here and there, and while we get a sense of the characters, this only feels touched on and never goes deeper.

This just didn’t really work for me, which is a shame as I am a fan of much of Tsukamoto’s work.

The Arm

‘The Arm’ is the second of the two ‘horror classics’ and leaves me with no idea where to start. This is pure bizarre! A man borrows a woman’s arm for an evening of bedroom antics, sneaking it home to his flat intending depravity. But, once the arm starts conversing with him, he ends in a discussion with it that I really couldn’t follow.

What was intended here, I have no idea…

I never thought I would ever say this, but if you have a choice between a film about a detachable arm, lovelorn sisters, rape revenge or excessive masturbation, pick the excessive masturbation one every time. It’s the only choice…

DECADEnt

On the 14th of this month it was a whole ten year decade since I first bowled into Block 19 of the Richardson Road flats of Newcastle University; baggy jeans , Mos Def T-shirt and hi-fi in hand for accessories. A fresh-faced (i.e. spotty) 18 year old version of myself entered University, unsure where I was going or what I wanted to do. What would the 18 year old version of me make of me now?

To celebrate the anniversary of this landmark occasion, I ventured up to Birmingham for a mini-reunion with various members of different living scenarios over the four year period I spent in the North-East. (Birmingham being both a spot that featured an owned house where we could all stay and a conveniently neutral location for those venturing from Derbyshire, Leeds, London and Essex.)

Soon after arriving, it appeared that, though ten years had passed and ‘real’ life had begun, little had changed in this period. Despite all being in mid-to-long-term relationships (including an engagement) and having respectable jobs, conversation mainly revolved around toilet habits, masturbation and fighting. This was all very familiar of the years leading up to 2005.

Maybe it was everyone to recall happy times while a student; maybe it was the many years apart making everyone unable to know how else to act around each other; or maybe it’s just the fact that little has changed in the way we truly want to behave and we saw opportunity to re-enact the freedom University brings. Either way, we were far from the professionals that we supposedly are. Though neither were we near the disregard for tomorrow that was shown while students. Only 20% of us were sick. Tomorrow does come now. Though humourously the act of vomiting was performed in the car while driving home.

While little may have appeared to have changed, a lot has. While I still probably have no idea as to what I actually want to do with my life as I did then, I probably didn’t imagine the life I live now would be mine. The 18 year old, never employed me thought (stupidly) that getting a job was ‘selling out’ and that I would never work for ‘da man’. My socialist fantasies would definitely not have thought I would end up working in the private sector, especially not in the pharmaceutical industry. I would have much more pictured myself as an eternal student, or rapper, or DJ, or film director, or any other job that requires actual talent that I failed to possess.

Where I am now probably isn’t the ideal that I had when 18. I would have felt dirty as a beer-swilling, Senior Research Executive for a Pharmaceuticals Market Research agency then, I probably do to some extent now. From tee-total idealist to where I am now, who knows where I will be in another decade’s time. Award-winning novelist and film director, of course…

Kusare Umi Ni Te

Finally having a computer that works has allowed me to finally have a prper look at my Hong Kong photos and put to some music. Went for Joe Hisaishi's 'Kusare Umi Ni Te' (Into the Polluted Sea).

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

Every 14 Days...(4)

after the quake (Murakami Haruki)

Given the end to my recent holiday to Japan, ‘after the quake’ seemed an appropriate next Murakami book to read. And so I did, being that I’d left my copy of ‘The Elephant Vanishes’ in Solihull.

Contained are six short stories about six different Japanese and how the Kobe earthquake of 1995 impacted on their lives. Delightfully weird and wonderful, the stories are full of metaphors – most of which I’m not sure I fully understand – reflecting the very individual impact that the natural disaster can have, despite being a nationally tragic event.

Designed to show changing times among the people of modern Japan through the inner-turmoil of the main characters, Murakami shows how such an event will impact on everyone in some way, however it manifests itself. From my own experience, despite the recent Fukushima earthquake impacting on thousands upon thousands, meeting individuals made it feel like a very individual event, with all having their own experiences, and after the quake shows as much, in its own unique way.

Days to read: 12
Days per book: 15.5



Hell Screen (Akutagawa Ryunosuke)

Taken from his Rashomon and Other Stories collection (the one that I do not own), ‘Hell Screen’ is a small, literally pocket-sized short, telling the story of a crazed artist, tasked with painting a screen depicting the Eight Buddhist Hells for His Lordship. Focusing on the artist, Yoshihide, and his unconventional techniques, ‘Hell Screen’ serves as a typically old-fashioned parable about the dangers of all-consuming passion and questioning one’s superiors.

A great storyteller, ‘Hell Screen’ is among Akutagawa’s finest works and brilliantly paints a haunting image, not only the screen itself, but also in the mind of the man that created it.

Followed by the incredibly short ‘The Spider Thread’, another Hell-themed parable, it makes for a captivating read about medieval Japan.

Days to read: 1
Days per book: 14.7



Kusamakura (Natsume Soseki)

Kusamakura is the second novel of the hundred years ago Japanese writer Natsume Soseki. The self-narrated story of a wandering artist from Tokyo as he travels through Japan’s mountains, it is an internal monologue as to debates about art and poetry, as the artist seeks for new inspiration in his work. From this, the story is littered with haiku and other poetry as the artist tries to capture distinct moments.

In terms of plot or story, there is little here; it is merely a wandering man and the conversations he has with himself – around art – and the locals that he meets. As with the other Soseki novel that I have read, it is very much of the time it was written, with references to the Russo-Japanese war and his contempt for it. What is within the lines is a comment on how a move from isolation is now apparent in Japan and how this is extending to those isolated in the countryside, with one of his new companions now off to become a soldier at the book’s close.

Kusamakura serves as a haiku to capture a moment in time, painting a picture with words.

Days to read: 14
Days per book: 14.2



The Elephant Vanishes (Murakami Haruki)

Started on my penultimate day in Japan (the actual one, not the original, budgeted one), this collection of short stories travelled back with me to London, and then up to Birmingham, where I accidentally left it at my mate’s newly bought house before going to watch Villa play a dull and lifeless draw against Stoke City Rugby Football Club. It did, therefore, take me a while to make my way through this strange and bizarre book of stories about the weird and wonderful.

The second collection of shorts by Murakami that I have read takes works from various publications that he has written over the years and leaves a mixed bag of offerings; some outright weird, others too strange to comprehend the intended meaning. All different, this is almost like flicking through Miike Takashi’s oeuvre, creating intrigue and confusion in the reader, but not always satisfaction.

Days to read: 89
Days per book: 13.9