After the Storm

While not yet proving to be quite as prolific as the great masters Ozu, Mizoguchi and Naruse at their most busy, there is becoming something routine about another year and another trip to Cannes for perhaps Japan's best current working director, Kore-eda Hirokazu. There is a clear progression from his bleakly haunting first three films, 'Maborosi', 'After Life' and 'Distance' to a more routine playground of 'shomin-geki' (lower-middle class family drama), moving from more complex ennui to a more mainstream exploration of various unusual family scenarios.

'After the Storm', the most recent lover he took with him to southern France, certainly feels like a follow-on from his previous works 'Still Walking' and 'Kiseki'. Here, the family get-together of 'Still Walking' is replaced by the impromptu night-in to weather the storm, with Kirin Kiki and Hiroshi Abe reprising their roles as mother and prodigal son; and 'Kiseki's' Koichi is replaced by Abe's Ryota: a grown man who can't move on from his divorce from his wife and son, Kyoko and Shingo. With the cast also featuring other now established Kore-eda 'family' members, in the form of Lili Franky and Yoko Maki, this could all start to feel a little too familiar. Though he would not be the first great director to embrace this approach.

Suitably unshaven, Ryota is a recent divorcee, struggling to come to terms with his new position. A former novelist, enjoying some minor success with his novel 'The Empty Table' fifteen years previous, he now finds himself working as a private detective, betraying the trust of both his boss and untrustworthy clients; gambling heavily, living alone. Not only losing his wife and son, he has lost the respect of others, and even himself. His ex-wife can't rely on him to pay child support; his sister believes he is only after their mother's meagre funds; and his boss knows he is moonlighting behind his back. The only ones showing any positivity towards him are his mother, in the form of witty banter about how useless he has become, much like his father; his work colleague, Kento, who begrudgingly lends him money to gamble away; and his son, whose indifference to him is as good as he can get.

His attempts to win Kyoko and Shingo back, in his sly, underhand manner, therefore, are never going to work. By purposefully taking Shingo to his mother's small apartment as a typhoon approaches , he hopes to lure Kyoko to spend the night as a family with his deceit, unable to grasp that it is acts such as this that pushed her away in the first place. He is a man above his station, and in pursuing his second novel, that everyone can see will never happen, turns down lucrative offers to write more mainstream manga, as he believes it compromises his artistic integrity which died long ago.

His profession now to watch others, Ryota has become completely unaware of himself and the impact of his actions on those around him. Playing the victim, he is never the bad guy. Comparisons are often made to his father, harking to Kore-eda's previous title 'Like Father, Like Son'. Kyoko can see the future she would be offered with Ryota, in the form of her former mother-in-law's cramped apartment where she is forced to spend the night: As an elderly woman, left alone and near penniless by her husband's rash actions. Whereas Ryota can only see the past.

Eventually realising that he is only deceiving himself (urgh, I just wrote that!), as the storm passes and the fresh morning awakes, he starts to come to terms with this. This may all seem quite obvious and light, wondering if Kore-eda has lost a bit of spark, getting too comfortable in his work. And indeed, you may wish for a more dark perspective as in his earlier days. But the realism holds, and the wit of the script raises a smile. The cast perform their roles in a way that is believable, avoiding soap opera clichés and social stereotypes; and the stark soundtrack steers it away from melodrama.

Yes, this is more of the same, but in the same way that Ozu remade his own 'Late Spring' with 'An Autumn Afternoon'. The formula is working, and with enough bite to keep it away from the daytime TV nicety, ensuring that the familial isn't too familiar just yet.

Politic 32: Krush Groove

With the imminent launch of his new album, 軌跡 (Kiseki), hear be some of my most favouritest noise sounds from the man from Japan with two turntables...who sometimes has a friend hold a mic.

Kemuri (Untouchable Mix) [Stepping Stones - Soundscapes]
Song 1 [漸 - Zen]
Duality (featuring DJ Shadow) [迷走 - Meiso]
3rd Eye [迷走 - Meiso]
Road to Nowhere [寂 - Jaku]
Shin-Sekai (featuring Rino) [Milight]
Meiso (featuring Black Thought and Malik B) [迷走 - Meiso]
Ibuki Reconstruction (DJ Krush Remix featuring Kodo) [Reload]
Drum [Stepping Stones - Soundscapes]
Real (featuring tragedy) [Milight]
Ha-Doh (featuring Toshinori Kondo) [記憶 - Ki-Oku]
On the Painted Desert (DJ Krush Remix featuring Boom Boom Satellites) [Reload]
The Kinetics (featuring Mista Sinista) [覚醒 - Kakusei]
Big City Lover (featuring Sonya Vallet) [Krush]
Bypath 3 [迷走 - Meiso]
Aoi Ame / Green Rain 
Strange Light (featuring free the Robots) [Butterfly Effect]
Beats (featuring DJ Shadow)
Hitotsu no Mirai (featuring Kemuri Productions) [Milight]
Rust (featuring KK) [覚醒 - Kakusei]
Black Satin / On the Corner (DJ Krush Remix featuring Miles Davis) [Reload]
85 Loop [覚醒 - Kakusei]
But the World Moves On (featuring D-Madness and Masato Nakamura) [深層 - The Message at the Depth]
Lunation [Strictly Turntablized]
Matsuri 
Beyond Raging Waves (featuring Shinichi Kinoshita) [寂 - Jaku]
Spiritual Prayer (DJ Krush Remix featuring Sugizo) [Reload]
Final Home (Vocal Version featuring Esthero) [覚醒 - Kakusei]
Song 2 [寂 - Jaku]

軌跡 (Kiseki) will be released on 7th June (in some parts)...

Every 14 Days...(37)

Seiobo There Below (Laszlo Krasznahorkai)

It's fair to say that Krasznahorkai is a difficult author to read, with his lack of punctuation and endless, rolling sentences that go on for pages and pages. But stick with it, and the rewards are there to be seen. 'Satantango' and 'War and War' were challenging, and 'Seiobo There Below' perhaps tops them in terms of trying to get your head around the extreme depth in the writing.

Essentially, 'Seiobo There Below' is a collection of short stories; not that it's particularly framed that way. Each chapter is the story of the relationship between an individual, or individuals, to a work of art. This takes various forms: a Buddhist monk preserving a statue of a Buddha;  a Hungarian going to the Acropolis of Athens, only for it to be too sunny for him to see anything, thus spending his time drinking with some young locals; a security guard for the Venus de Milo at the Louvre in Paris; others.

Each is a painstaking look at how we appreciate art, all with a sense of pain and suffering as the cost of the reward. Each is meticulous in its detail, with the heavy influence of Japanese art reflective of Krasznahorkai's time spent in Asia. And indeed, this is not without its suffering itself. The need to immerse yourself in the minds of various individuals in Krasznahorkai's long-winded fashion takes some effort on the part of the reader, needing to juggle a lot of detailed text with knowledge of various artistic styles and cultures. The chapters are even numbered to the Fibonacci Sequence!

The title comes from a story midway through the book, 'The Life and Work of Master Inoue Kazuyuki', about a second-rate and over-worked Noh master in Kyoto, who has to summon the goddess Seiobo from his very depths for his performance. With 'Seiobo There Below', Krasznahorkai has performed similar feats.

Days to Read: 22

Days per book: 15.3

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (Philip K. Dick)

Another one of those books that 'I should have read by now,' seeing as it's had a lot of influence on other works in its time, and I've seen 'Blade Runner'...in bits. With recent releases like the 'Ghost in the Shell' remake, I thought it was perhaps time that I read it.

Overall, I'd say this was a book where the idea is stronger than the actual book itself. I'm not particularly a big one for sci-fi, particularly in book form, and so the writing style was not much for me, feeling a little short on painting a picture in my mind, more telling you exactly what happened. Moments seem to come out of nowhere and are over in a flash.

The ideas, however, are good, and one can see why they have influenced many films, manga and comics, particularly considering it was a book written in the Sixties, with society moving more towards artificial forms.

It's a shame that they don't come packaged a little better, however. The characters and their relationships seem as artificial as the intelligence on display, lacking any particular depth. As such, while the concepts are interesting, they're ones you're quite happy to not be living with.

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.3

Too Much Information (Dave Gorman)

Having polished off his other books, I now turned to the latest instalment of bearded checked-shirt wearer Dave Gorman's paper-format writing. Each of his previous books have been about journeys; though this one less so. Though perhaps the journeys he was taking were starting to become a little convoluted.

Here we look at the concept of the digital age and the endless stream of consciousness it sends our way, to the point where we can no longer see what we take in, blinded as we are by all the other distractions around us. This is a world where we see, but don't look; hear, but don't listen; and read without any information actually being taken in.

This is an interesting concept, particularly in this day and age of multiple screen-viewing, endless multi-tasking, that actually sees us only do things by halves, not giving our full attention to what is necessary. There is an interesting social point raised here, though - naturally for a more comedy format book - taking an in-depth sociological look at the issue is perhaps missed. Along the way, this becomes more of a collection of rants and raves, similar to the various anthologies of articles comedians and writers now release for people who can't really be arsed to read the Guardian every Sunday. A lot of the content was used in his recent 'Dave Gorman's Modern Life is Goodish' series on Dave, though its 2014 release perhaps pre-dates the televised versions.

This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it would perhaps have been nice for a more depth summary of the comedic observations and investigations he conducts, with a little more comment at the cost of a little of the comedy.

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.3

The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)

You should never judge a book by its cover...yeah, you should! If the promotional cover's rubbish, what is the undoubted shit inside going to be like, I jest! But all joking aside (the left-hand side), I should have paid more heed to the cover for this edition of Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist'...and then never read it.

The tagline reads 'A fable about following your dream.' But also states '65 million copies sold,' implying you should buy it because it's popular, not because of your personal desires. Switching to the back, we see 'Dreams are made to be followed. Life is meant to be lived. Some books are meant to be read, loved and passed on. 'The Alchemist' is one of those books.' It then features celebrity endorsements, not reviews, from the likes of Madonna and Will Smith (not the not-that-one Will Smith, but that other one). This is why you shouldn't buy books online.

Paulo Coelho is one of those names you see a lot on book shelves: a name I thought I should probably have read some of by now, assuming he was some kind of Brazilian Gabriel Garcia Marquez.  But very quickly I was aware that this wasn't for me. I'm not sure where to start with why I didn't enjoy this, but what follows are some suggestions.

Perhaps due to translation, but the writing style is far too simplistic. This is not literature, but storytelling one would expect in a primary school assembly. As such, this is a book that annoys rather than engrosses, and you simply want to stop reading it. Each page feels the need to give us a handy life tip, which are incredibly repetitive. Life is far too easy for our young hero; everyone he comes across is simply a guide on his journey, pointing him in the right directions, far too happy to help. Call me cynical, but life just isn't like that. The moral here is that if you want something to happen, you just need to really want it and life will complete the puzzle for you.

I could go on, but I'll leave it at that. Put simply: this is a bad book. The young hero learns 'the soul of the world,' while his English travelling companion only reads books and so learns nothing of life. Some books teach you nothing of the world. 'The Alchemist' is one of those books.

Days to read: 8

Days per book: 15.3

100 Anime (Philip Brophy)

Sometimes with books on a certain genre or theme, the most simply packaged are the most effective. For the BFI, Philip Brophy's '100 Anime' is simply that: a review of a hundred different anime films or series. Not the best, not the most noteworthy; just a hundred of them.

Starting by looking at some consistent themes across anime and Japanese culture, Brophy looks at each of the hundred within the context of these themes, a lot of which are sexual. To an extent, the academic look at some of the titles might be a little too much and reading too much into things. However, his analysis does shed some interesting light on some of the works.

Admittedly, I haven't watched some of the hundred. In fact, I have only seen a small percentage. For those I have seen, it adds some interesting perspectives. For those I have not, it either makes me want see them instantly or can be a slightly dull read for a couple of pages, reading about something I haven't seen and am unlikely to ever be interested in doing so.

That said, this is a thorough and comprehensive look at a snapshot of the contradiction-in-terms I've just written.

Days to read: 36

Days per book: 15.2

Photos of People Fishing in Japan

As you may know, Japan is a collection of islands; a bit like the Channel Islands, minus Bergerac. 

As a result, Japan has large collections of water surrounding it. And in water one will find fish (unless it's cod in the North Sea you're looking for).

Here be a collection of photos from Japan's islands of people employing various tactics to lure sea creatures to their collecting implements.


Kamo River, Kyoto. September 2008.

Casual midday types. 

Ichigaya Fish Center, Tokyo. March 2011.

Hardcore urban fishing.

Manzamo, Okinawa. April 2012.

What's he up to? He's fishing. 

Nagasaki. April, 2012.

Lonesome fish. 

Kawaguichiko. May, 2012.

Get in-volved fishing.

Silhouette fishing.

Nikko. May, 2012.

White water fishing.

Niigata. June,2012.

Rock and chips.

Kabira Bay, Ishigaki. May, 2015.

Fishing hat.

Fishing box.

Sukuji Beach, Ishigaki. May, 2015.

Fishing carrier bag.

West Pier, Taketomijima. May, 2015.

Always end with a penguin in a shop window (Akihabara, Tokyo. September 2008).

New Evisbeats

Some tasty new Evisebeats beats have made their pretty way on to Soundcloud. 

Here them...

Some Random 1990s Asian Film Soundtracks

Some soundtracks work to evoke visuals memories of a film; others are simply background and go largely unnoticed; though others you can listen to and not recall much of it ever actually being in the film ('Music Inspired by,' my posterior! - not literally, of course). It's interesting to listen to a film's soundtrack in isolation, removed from the visual elements, to see what it makes you think: of the film; the music itself; or just a feeling of confusion.

The 1990s produced not only some good Asian cinema, but also some nice soundtracks to accompany them, whether original or specifically selected from one's CD collection (in the days when you required shelves to do such a thing). Here is an admittedly limited selection of soundtracks from the aforementioned decade and continent that can fit into one or more of the above categories, all with their own merits, though perhaps for differing reasons.

Maborosi (Maboroshi no hikari)

The thing I found most notable about Kore-eda Hirokazu's breakthrough feature is the use of colour and light. Seemingly filmed entirely in twilight to emphasise the sense of limbo of lead Yumiko, the film is all about mood. But strangely, despite this emphasis, I can't say I recalled too much about the soundtrack on first viewing.

But, recently listening to the soundtrack on repeat while staring at spreadsheets, the soundtrack is indeed as haunting as the visual elements of the film, and while not bringing any specific scenes to mind, it does conjure that same emotions when listing to it. Composed by Taiwanese musician Chen Ming Chang, this acoustic soundtrack combines proper guitar playing with piano and more traditional instruments to create a sound as if awakening from a meditative state, much as the film's conclusion alludes to.

The fact that the soundtrack doesn't particularly stand out on a first viewing is its strength, merging with the visual elements perfectly, for a singular audio-visual experience. While possibly blending into the background of the wider whole as part of the film, the soundtrack is worthy in isolation as a truly brilliant piece of music.

Hana-bi

The soundtrack for Kitano Takeshi's 'Hana-bi' is much more in the foreground. Joe Hisaishi's piano and orchestral accompaniment is a key feature of the film, notably the rostrum camerawork for Kitano's paintings used in the film. For these montages, it feels almost as if the paintings accompany the music, rather than vice versa. On listening, one can't help but recall Horibe's musings as he contemplates his lot.

This is a soundtrack that works on all levels: a prominent feature within the film; a stand-out piece of music in its own right; yet also evokes scenes from the films as listening. 'Painters' is a particular example of this: incidental, enjoyable and recallable all at once; as it 'Thank you...for Everything'. The tracklisting very much works like chapter headings for the film, forever associating the music with the film, but with the audio and visual elements working so well together, this is no bad thing.

The strongest of Hisaishi's collaborations with Kitano, this rivals any works he has composed for Miyazaki.

Dead or Alive (Dead or Alive: Hanzaisha) 

Both the beginning and end of the first film of Miike's 'Dead or Alive' trilogy are quite literally explosive. The in-between bits, however, are more a sombre, moody and character-driven in Sho Aikawa's atmospheric pursuit of Riki Takeuchi. And Koji Endo's soundtrack follows the brief, he was no doubt given, to follow suit.

To start, thrash guitars blast over a near-endless montage of sex, drugs, murder, guns, noodle-splatters, cocaine 'n' rock'n'roll. This gives the misleading belief that you will be treated to a film of endless energy. The reality is somewhat different, however, as Miike chooses a more measured route for most of the film.

The opening scene is mindless, and the repetitive guitar likewise. The remainder of the soundtrack is more incidental, atmospheric music, that - while an intriguing mix of different instruments and sounds - is not as easily recalled and standout in its own right. This is very much a film score.

Chungking Express (Chung Hing Sam Lam)

Wong Kar-wai's soundtracks are always a well-considered, hand-picked selection of local flavours, re-imagined pop classics and obscure rhythms that one can't exactly dance to. The soundtracks, therefore, are varied in style and tempo, though do have a consistency in quality. 'Chungking Express' is perhaps one of the more commercial soundtracks from his films, combining a number of well-known tunes, though not always in original form; the film's star Faye Wong covering a couple of  well-known songs from the hit parade.

The song perhaps dominating the film is the Mamas and Papas' 'California Dreamin''; Faye Wong's character playing it continuously on loop as she works the counter of her food stall. Though this is a film of two halves, and a soundtrack that is likewise. The first-half dominated by Takeshi Kaneshiro's lovesick detective giving a slicker, more noir mood, countered by the more lively second half of the film, with Faye Wong and Tony Leung's unspoken romance.

There has been more than one release of the soundtrack, naturally with pre-released songs featured, some were not originally included, though recent re-issues have seen them restored, but perhaps led to some 'filler' tracks not necessarily included in the film to feature on certain versions. The subsequent 'Fallen Angels' and 'Happy Together' had soundtracks in a similar vein.

Ghost in the Shell (Kokaku Kidotai)

In some films, the soundtrack can steal the show; all thoughts of the film bring you back to its sound. 'Ghost in the Shell' is a seminal anime for a number of reasons: its philosophy; the stunning visuals; and notably Kenji Kawai's soundtrack is with us throughout. After the infamous 'thermoptics' scene, with Major Kusanagi falling into invisibility at the film's start, the film is brought into life with the spine-tingling 'Making of Cyborg', reprised for the standout scene as Kusanagi wanders the cityscape.

Each scene is matched perfectly with the accompanying music to the point where even the silence is perfectly chosen; wonderfully atmospheric as the film moves. For all the film's strengths, when recalling key scenes, the sound is something that comes to mind as much as anything, playing along in the mind with the visuals. Sometimes it is worth watching simply for the soundtrack alone, though I've got it on CD, so don't have to.

The films of the 1990s were much less polished in them days, though there was a lot more artistry for it. Soundtracks are part of this. With the increasing decline in physical media, particularly in film, and the disposable nature of music in the new millennium, film soundtracks are something that could get easily lost and forgotten, when a good soundtrack can make or break the enjoyment of a film. While they have always been something quite difficult to get your hands on and for the purists, studying the soundtrack in isolation is an important part of film critique.

Hopefully the resurgence of vinyl will lead to an increase in re-issues of soundtracks to be enjoyed without having to stream, such as the re-release of the 'Chungking Express' soundtrack last year. Otherwise, you're forking out £200+ to enjoy some random music that most others have little-to-no interest in...Actually, you can maybe see why it's not such a viable commercial option...

Ghost in the Shell

There already is a live-action re-make of 'Ghost in the Shell': 'The Matrix'. I jest, of course, though you can see where the Wachowski brothers got some of their points of inspiration. There are many other versions of the 'Ghost in the Shell' franchise: the Masamune Shirow manga from the 1980s; the Mamoru Oshii anime films; the 'Stand Alone Complex' series; and the 'Arise' series of prequels.

Rupert Sanders' 'live-action' version, therefore, is placing itself into an already crowded market place for guises of the characters developed in the late Eighties. In his interesting piece upon its release, Andrew Osmond discusses how the trailer was designed to tug on our nostalgia strings for the 1995 anime, seemingly recreating some of its most iconic scenes in a 'live-action' form. Though to say this incarnation is 'live-action' is something of a myth, with Scarlett Johansson's face and voice added to an endless stream of CGI effects.

Spending a large budget in recreating a Japanese anime for a Western audience, however, is fraught with danger: Those that are not particularly fans of anime or the franchise will not be drawn to this against the endless stream of comic book franchise extensions already on offer; while fans of the franchise will no doubt find fault in an idea that has now perhaps had its day.

So, what of this new version? Well, to start, it is obviously visually quite impressive. Oshii's 1995 version was stunning to look at, and so this was a necessity. The use of huge holographic advertising across the cityscape create a similar image of a futuristic 'Hong Kong' as before, and the use of bird's eye view scene setting also works throughout. Though, perhaps, there is a little too much going on on screen, making it somewhat difficult to keep up with at times.

The plot is where the greatest differences lie. 'The Major', known to start as Mira, is a refugee from a sunk ship, where most people died. Her brain, saved, is placed in the body of a state-of-the-art cybernetic body, though the memory of her past is vague; mere flashes here and there. As part of cyber-terrorism squad, Section 9, her and her team follow the actions of Kuze, hacking individuals to take out members of the Hanka Robotics staff; staff that created The Major's body. With this connection, she takes a personal interest in the case, drawn to Kuze's accusations of the organisation that created her.  

This is a little more of a direct plot than the anime version, with its ending that draws few full conclusions; only asking more questions. Cutter, the head of Hanka, is a more conventional villain, less seen in the other incarnations, with the bad guys more misunderstood terrorists posing philosophical questions of the Major, which she is always willing to debate. Here, philosophical questions are posed, but in a somewhat different form, just as existential, but somewhat more simplistic - natural for a film aiming for a more universal appeal.  

As with the 1995 version, the focus is on a select few of Section 9: The Major, ever-faithful Batou and chief Aramaki. Johansson is perhaps a natural for the lead role (whitewash arguments aside), with Pilou Asbaek as you would expect of Batou and God himself, 'Beat' Takeshi Kitano, as Aramaki, in what appears good casting. Togusa, being wholly human, always an interesting element of the team, is given less showing here. A shame, as Chin Han is likeable in the role. The rest of the team are afterthoughts, casting from all over the globe, giving the team a more global feel. Aramaki's dialogue in Japanese compared to everyone else's English, feels like an attempt to keep things a little Asian based on its roots, though is perhaps as much due to Kitano's language skills and may only fuel the fire of those questioning the casting.

The Major's past and her trying to uncover more from her flashbacks drives her character, with the source of Batou's eyes revealed. We are definitely being introduced to the characters here, Section 9 seeming a more fledgling squad finding its feet. This feels like a prequel, therefore, whereas the 1995 anime throws you in at the deep end.

The 1995 film had its flaws: its short running time missed out much character development, with somewhat budget saving dialogue scenes fairly static to accommodate the more impressive visual moments. The setting is less defined also, based on Hong Kong, though not particularly eluding to the exact location, as with the original manga. Ideas developed more in the Stand ALone Complex series. There is more in the way of narrative and character development here, natural with actors instead of animated characters, giving a more human feel.

The main question, however, is: does this offer anything over the original manga, two Oshii films, two 'Stand Alone Complex' series and 'Arise' prequels? This is a (I was) twenty-eight years old franchise, drawing on inspiration from previous sources, namely Arthur Koestler's 'Ghost in the Machine' and 'Blade Runner'; as well as inspiring subsequent works itself. A fifth awakening, after the weaker 'Arise' stories had probably put a couple of nails in the coffin makes it poorly timed for those in the know.

This review is perhaps a little preoccupied with Mamoru Oshii's 1995 version, though Sander's films haunted by the ghost of its past. Not enough elements from the manga and 'Stand Alone Complex', omitted by Oshii are added, taking three of the most famous scenes from Oshii and trying to shoehorn them into a new storyline. The Major's attempts to recall her past, finding only partial memories, serve as a metaphor for the self-aware referencing of the earlier work.

While visually impressive and not a bad film in isolation, the lack of enough new elements will fail to win plaudits among established anime fans - those putting production points aside that have made the effort to watch it; and the appeal of an anime remake will unlikely draw enough universal appeal over the numerous superhero franchises on offer, with initial box office results perhaps proof of this.