Every 14 Days...(22)

Metamorphosis and Other Stories (Franz Kafka)

'Metamorphosis' is one of those famous stories that everyone knows of, but has it actually been read? Well, I hadn't read it. But now I have. Packaged with other shorts and musings, this is a mixed collection of writings, with, for me, moments of brilliance juxtaposed with moments less entertaining.

This collection starts with 'Contemplation', an interesting set of short moments that seem to link together in the life of the narrator, developing as they go along. 'The Rejection' is a good moment of comedy and works as one of the stronger works in this collection.

'Metamorphosis' itself is an interesting tale of changing, possibly inspired by Kafka's own burden on his family, and shows a sense of isolation that his change brings him. Wanting to still be part of his family and continue as normal, despite his now being a different creature, Gregor Samsa is instead shut away by his family as he has to come to terms with his new position in the changing family.

The other works here are mixed in the level of entertainment they gave me. Some are strong works, while others are ones that I simply did not get into and was quite happy to complete. Perhaps the timing of reading this didn't help having completed other short stories recently and characters and situations ever changing leading me to struggle to care for some.

The work is a classic and adds to the sense of Kafka's writing of change and man's struggle against systems that hold them.

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 15.2

Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and his Years of Pilgrimage (Haruki Murakami)

You can say that I came to Murakami late, reading my first of his works, 'Dance, Dance, Dance', after most of what he's written had already been translated and released in English. Most of my reading of his books, therefore, has been playing catch-up, gradually making my way through them over a period of a few years.

Having made my way through all of them, 1Q84 was the first of his novels that I actually anticipated being released, and bought pretty much on the day of release, all three of them! And now his next, new, long-winded titled novel is one that I anticipated, pre-ordered and read, almost instantly. But whereas before I read his books for pure pleasure, now they arrive with the expectation to at least match what came before - something which rarely happens.

Character-wise, the man of the title is classic Murakami: a self-conscious single man, unsure of his place in the world, experiencing the odd sexual encounter here and there. Now approaching middle age, looking back on his teenage years and his tight-knit group of friends - all whose names feature a colour - the woman he is currently dating suggests he searches to discover why the group suddenly excluded him...if he wants some more nookie, anyway. With some quicker than lightning research, she locates the four other members of the high school group and thus starts his journey of discovery, or pilgrimage, if you will.

To start, I was quite disappointed. I'm not sure if it was due to other recent reads, but I initially found Philip Gabriel's translation just a little simplified, feeling like it was written by Dan Brown. While I've always liked how Murakami is an easy read, it made me wonder if increasing popularity brought with it a steady dumbing-down of content. But sticking with it, this became less noticeable as the book went on, and it flowed nicely.

It's fair to say that this isn't his best book, probably not even up there among his best. Despite the anticipation, it's a solid effort, like the ones read casually on holiday while working my way through his bibliography. Perhaps it's best just to read  as you find it, skipping the anticipation part altogether. Though this one did come with some 'adult' stickers, which made me feel very grown up. And no doubt, I'll be pre-ordering my copy of 'The Strange Library' when released later this year...I never learn.

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 15.2

Japanese Rules (Sebastian Moffett)

This is a book written to be read by me. Let's just look at the full title in a little more detail: 'Japanese Rules (oooh, Japanese): Why the Japanese needed football (oooh, football) and how they got it (oooh, sociological)'. Bought for me by my fiancée as a birthday present (awwww), I almost immediately started reading this and was 'into it' from the kick-off (a football-based joke there).

While it goes back a little further to set a context, the book focuses on 1993-2002, perhaps the most important ten years in Japanese football's history, or indeed, Japanese history (that's a socio-political joke). With the advent of the J-League in 1993, bringing with it the likes of world renowned toe enthusiast Gary Linekar, Sebastian Moffett charts the rise, fall and subsequent rise of the beautiful game in the Land of the Rising Sun.

But more than just a chronological piece about which fading stars arrived to end their careers on a big pay-day as the MLS now does (it does do this), it tries - as my Masters dissertation failed - to explore how football in Japan was a sign of social change in the country, representing a new Japan ready for the new millennium...and hosting a World Cup.

Football teams were small, and far behind that if baseball in terms of popularity and funds in the 'bubble period' of Japan. The one thing they had in common, however, was that teams were company-owned, taking their names and made up of 'amateur' players masquerading as kaishain, or company employees. Loyalty was to the company, and you did as you were told. With the advent of the J-League in 1993, the premise was a move away from the post-war Japan of loyalty to the company, wanting teams to be named after their locale, supporting their fan bases and having fans show a wild side.

The big name signings, endless company money piled into the League and novelty saw large attendances to start and fans bases built. But in a culture of not questioning superiors, uniformity and following procedures, football didn't really work. Foreign players and coaches alike found team mates unable to make quick, spare-of-the-moment decisions or think for themselves in a sport that loves individual style and flare. The lack of any successful national team saw football's popularity gradually decline, as foreign players and coaches alike struggled to gain any real success.

But 1998 and World Cup qualification in France, alongside a previously unthinkable co-hosting with South Korea planned for 2002, saw something to shout about, and with more teams formed, more experience gained and greater football professionalism, fan bases became established and club identities formed, culminating in Nakata Hidetoshi dyeing his hair.

Football fandom was something new to Japan: being individual, loud and brash, doing outrageous things in public - largely getting naked. Foreign influenced was large, shown in team names and fan styles, with unique atmospheres created, as I have experienced myself. Like football in Japan, this isn't the greatest book ever written, but I love it in my own unique way.

C'mon Verdy!

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.1

Every 14 Days...(21)

Back from the Brink (Paul McGrath)

This is a book I probably really should have read by now. In fact, it's something I have bought before, as a present for someone else. And being that it was a Dave Gorman definition of a 'present' and not a 'gift', it's about time that I read it.

Often cited as one of the best football autobiographies, something of which I don't particularly read due to lack of real story, I don't particularly have much to compare this to. So in that sense for me, it is the best football autobiography, being that it's the only one I've actually bothered to read. And this is a good read. 'God' is one of those players that actually had a life off the pitch worth reading about, constantly battling his addictions that lead to problems for himself on and off the pitch.

This is not necessarily a book with a happy ending, but another step on the road to recovery, interestingly told from both his own perspective as well as those that were involved, meaning it doesn't get too self-absorbed. All refer to the player and man he could have been were his troubles not apparent, but so often is it the flaws that make us love them so.  

Days to read: 21

Days per book: 15.5

The Sake Handbook (John Gautner)

Sake is something I've been wanting to explore for a while, and not just for the sake of it. I like all things Japanese (apart from natto), consuming alcohol and vomiting, so it's only natural that I'd want to learn a little more.

'The Sake Handbook' is one of those odd things that start by telling you about lots of different processes and sciences that you probably have little interest in and will likely forget within seconds, but you have to get through that to get to the juicy stuff. Obviously, this being a book with pages of paper and not cups of sake, there is no juicy stuff at the end.

Reading a book doesn't get you more acquainted with something, you have to actually do it firsthand. And that's why this is a HANDbook, for later reference whenever purchasing a tipple. With so much on offer and sake being expensive in the UK, not served alongside your Sambuca and Jagermeister at the most classy of drinking establishments, I will never become an expert in the field. But I have learnt something and will be sure to start with the exciting and hip hobby of sake label collecting. 

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 15.5

Kokoro (Natsume Soseki)

Another notch on my Matsume Soseki bed-post and another good read. The Haruki Murakami of his day, if you're being a lazy reviewer. But there is some similarity there, with the previous Soseki novels I've read, 'Sanshiro' and 'Kusamakura', also about young men coming to terms with the world around them.

'Kokoro', which can be translated in many ways but refers to 'of the heart' or 'meaning', is a story of a student whom befriends a enigmatic man, whom he converses with regularly, but holds a secret from him throughout their intercourse (hehe). On his returning home, the younger man loses contact with his friend, despite his attempts to make contact. Eventually he does here from him, with all questions finally answered.

Being that this is a book about the relationship between people, there is a lot of dialogue between the two, over-analysing each and everything as they go. The extended letter shared between them on the book's conclusions is also long and detailed. But this is the nature of the two characters, at times unable to reveal their true feelings as they struggle to come to terms with changing times.

Reading between the lines, there is a tale of the changing face of Japan in here. Just as important in his day, Murakami holds him as a key influence on his writing, and I can see why.  

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.5

Starting Point (Hayao Miyazaki)

A collection of his various writings, Hayao Miyazaki's 'Starting Point' is quite a bumpy ride as a read. Switching between his analysis of the contemporary world and long-winded descriptions of animation production processes, this is at times an interesting read; at others of little relevance to those not interested enough in the world of animation to know all the finer details.

While, of course, that's what makes him who he is, for the casual reader, this is a little too detailed at times and could have perhaps been edited down to the pieces about the world outside animation.

There are some fascinating reads in here at times, though at the overall length, it gets a bit much. But that's probably the difference between him and why no one's reading this.

Days to read: 26

Days per book: 15.6

Nobody Knows (Shelley Tanaka)

I bought this, like the pretentious fool that I am, thinking it was an analysis of one of my favourite films by Hirokazu Kore-eda. Instead, it turned out to be a novelisation on a film with little in the way of narrative and dialogue.

Films will always come after books, but books shouldn't really come after films, novelisations at least. This is short and quite unnecessary really, seemingly written for children, with a simplistic style featuring photos from the film throughout. It's good at making me want to watch the film again, so that's something at least.

I can't say I remember reading a novelisation before; maybe 'Ghostbusters', though an Armando Iannucci joke might have blinkered my memory. I don't think I'll read many more in life. Watch the subtitled film, instead. It's more entertaining and sort of counts as reading.

Days to read: 3

Days per book: 15.5

Keep the Aspidistra Flying (George Orwell)

Getting closer to polishing off the Orwell back catalogue. 'Keep the Aspidistra Flying' probably isn't his best work and not as well written as some of his others, but at the time of reading, this felt quite appropriate.

With the troubled hero, Gordon Comstock, sat in his low-end shop in a bookshop, he contemplates the gentry, and how the spare time afforded them gives them the ability to sit and write endless pieces, compared to his meagre published works and half-finished promises. With his 'war on money', Gordon chooses a life of struggle over a respectable job.

Reading at a time when more adverts seem to annoy me than ever and after discussing theories of how a lot of societies innovators have been allowed a freedom many will never experience (probably while drunk), this is another work of Orwell that still seems to have its relevance today.

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 15.4

Error (Tadanobu Asano)

So, this one's a bit of a cheat. It does have some words in it, but most of them are written in Japanese, which I can pretend to read.

Like a lot of actors, Tadanobu Asano needs other hobbies to stop him from getting too bored and, therefore, does side projects that are probably of little merit, but because of their name they can blag some extra cash out of it. He is also in a band.

'Error' is a collection of his painting, or random sketches, or doodles of penises. Yep, the last one probably suits best. There are a couple of pieces worth looking at, but largely it's just interesting to see how an actor spends his time off...'How bad can a remake of '47 Ronin' with Keanu Reeves be?', maybe?!

Days to read: 1

Days per book: 15.3

Raise the Red Lantern (Su Tong)

Zhang Yimou's 'Raise the Red Lantern' is one of three films I remember watching in my youth that attracted me to Asian cinema. Reading the story on which it was based came naturally.

It's been many years since I've actually seen 'Raise the Red Lantern' - a film that I've only seen once - but from memory the film is true to much of the story of a young woman sent to live in the house of an older master as his fourth wife. Being a short, it doesn't necessarily go into too much death regarding the personalities of each of the four wives, which is a little disappointing, but it's still well-written as a story.

The other two stories included: 'Nineteen Thirty-four Escapes' and 'Opium Family' are a bit more mixed in how much I enjoyed them. 'Nineteen Thirty-four Escapes' is one I simply could not get into and skipped over a lot of it in my mind as I was reading, with too many characters brought in and my interest soon dwindling. 'Opium Family' is better, though again loses my interest at times as characters change in a short period of time.

Perhaps my main interest only being in the titular story accounts for my wanting to get the others over and done with more quickly, not particularly getting into either, or I just I have a greater interest in films than books. Perhaps.

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 15.3

No One Writes to the Colonel (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

I've been wanting to read some Gabriel Garcia Marquez for a while now and so I thought I'd start with the shortest of his books out of laziness. Probably this wasn't the best place to start.

While 'No one Writes to the Colonel' is a decent enough read, being as short as it is, it could easily fit in a collection of short stories as it leaves you wanting a little more. I will still aim for some of the more widely known of his works, not being put off by this one, so the old maxim of 'always leave them wanting more' worked a treat here with me.

Days to read: 4

Days per book: 15.1

Moebius

When I saw 'In the Realm of the Senses' in the otherwise respectable BFI, the scene - you know the one - where a hardboiled egg is lovingly inserted into a vagina and then eaten didn't half make me feel a bit awkward, particularly when sat in a near-full screening. The fact that a man's penis were later cut off only added to this - in the film, of course, not the BFI.

Many film reviews will describe films as 'this' or 'that' and how it will be an emotional journey, that will make you 'this,' 'that' and 'throw up.' But actually, do we ever experience these things when watching films in public spaces? I don't, but then I'm a cynical bastard. Kim Ki-duk's latest offering - controversial as ever - is a film, however, that actually does stir a bit of emotion in the audience. There may not be any hardboiled eggs involved, but there is certainly some of the other.

To summarise the plotline would be to give a huge spoiler alert, and to detract from the impact of the film when watching, so I won't bother - and not just because I'm lazy. But essentially, this is a film about a modern family in a similar vein to Kurosawa Kiyoshi's 'Tokyo Sonata' or Miike Takashi's 'Visitor Q'. 

With all of Kim's films, there has to be a layer of controversy and possible religious undertones. There's less on the religious here, and much more on the controversy. Banned in Korea initially, the film comes with notoriety on its sleeve.

But all that nonsense aside, 'Moebius' is an interesting and creative film. There is no dialogue in the whole film, bar the occasional screams of anguish, and as such the film is constantly in a state of flux to push the story along, as opposed to being a string of long, languid, art house shots. The pace is frenetic and comes across as a constant stream of consciousness. Kim doesn't leave you too much time to reflect on anything you've seen as things have already moved on. In a film without dialogue this works well to tell the story, showing (almost) everything and explaining nothing. This also shines a light of comedy among the darkness for the viewer, as the constant changes create a sense of disbelief at what you may, or may not, have just seen.

I watched this feeling, at times, quite uncomfortable, but surprisingly not at the scenes I may have thought - Oshima obviously desensitised me to certain things. I never thought the typing of 'orgasm without a penis' into Google would leave me quite so weak at the knees. 'Moebius' certainly isn't an easy viewing, with a 'silent' film provoking the audience to spurt out words in reaction. 'Oh, he's not...'

Kim's films may be varied in quality, but they are always thought provoking and definitely create talking points, ironically so for 'Moebius'. His films will never be the best you have seen, though they will certainly stick in the mind. Thankfully, there's enough good about this film to alleviate the controversy and make some decent enough thoughts stay in your mind, if not uncomfortable ones under your skin. 

Onitsuka Tiger Colorado Eighty-Five Navy/Atomic Blue

According to the bods in the Onitsuka Tiger shop just off Carnaby Street, I'm the first person in the UK to purchase these...

'Someone should blog about it,' said they. 

So I did...

Pluto

When watching school teacher-turned-director Su Won Shin's 'Pluto', you feel like you have to account for some cultural differences. Watching it as a days of black and white British person, the film can feel a little too extreme and almost unbelievable at moments. But written and directed by a former school teacher, the high school drama serves as a social comment on school systems in South Korea whether accepting the way the plot unfolds or not.

Jun has transferred from a humble background to an elite school, where competition for school grades is of utmost importance in gaining both acceptance, respect and future prospects. If enough of a nerd to reach the school's top ten students, you get to sit in a 'special class' with additional privileges that come with it. In his jealousy of school top boy, the American-raised (though not fat) Yujin, June starts to take steps into the violent and dangerous world of achieving good grades at school.

To start the film is relatively black and white: with the murder of his classmate, of whom he is known to be jealous, Jun is questioned by the police as to his involvement in between flashbacks of his arrival and subsequent outcast status within the school. But as the film progresses, the motivations of the characters become more and more difficult to empathise with, being from a country where discussing your most recent hangover seems to dominate academic achievement in school.

The life and death nature of being part of the school's elite seems very alien, and the lengths that people will go to achieve and maintain it require some level of faith from the audience that this is the case, and not just shock tactics forming part of lazy film-making. But, with extracts form teenage student suicide notes and home videos of students featured, along with Su Won Shin's own admission that things can get much more severe, it's clear that 'Pluto' is borne out of a different society to my own.

More bombastic elements aside, 'Pluto' is a very solid work from a rather novice writer-director, exploring some interesting themes running throughout everyday life for students, the titular 'outsider' status one of them. In 'Pluto', pain and obsession reign, feeling 4.67 billion miles from Luton Sixth Form College. 

Terracotta Far East Film Festival 2014

Improving on last year's poor performance of making just one single screening at the Terracotta Far East Film Festival, I made it to a whopping two of the various offerings this year. Seeing a Korean film last year, this year I decided to complete the 'Holy Trinity' (not Browns, The Griffine and The Flying Scotsman), by seeing one Japanese and one Hong Kong/China production.

Avoiding convention and putting second things first, the closing film of the festival was 'Judge!' by debutant director Akira Nagai. Kiichiro, our undoubted hero, is a hapless employee at a Japanese advertising agency. Loathed by the majority of those he works with, the ad concepts he works on repeatedly fail to impress and his future with the company is endlessly in doubt. With pressure from a  major client to fix the voting at an international advertising grand prix, one of the agency chiefs decides to send Kiichiro the California, knowing his failure will justify his desired dismissal. Finding nothing but dishonesty and corruption (what?! in advertising?!) within the judging, Kiichiro is left disillusioned with the industry he chose as a career path.

But, this is a comedy, so everything works out well in the end...of course.

Nagai and script writer Yoshimitsu Sawamoto both work as advertising directors, with the vast majority of what happens claimed as being 'based on true events.' But on watching 'Judge!', it's clear that both exaggeration and artistic license are added to this reality. What this is is an enjoyable mainstream romp of a film: there is nothing here to be taken seriously, despite its attempts at moral messages, with a cast of big names and enough laughs throughout.

Perhaps the film's failings are in that it is a film about advertising, directed by an advertising director. Advertising relies on stereotypes and exaggeration, with which this film is chock-full. National stereotypes are played up, with manga-esque characters flirting with the farcical. But this isn't meant to be anything more than it is - it has Yoshiyoshi Arakawa and Lily Franky in it.

First things second, the other film viewed was poor-man's kung-fu megastar Donnie Yen's 'Special ID'. This is very much standard Donnie Yen fayre for me: a lot of action, little real need for plot and leaves you feeling entertained, not deep in contemplative thought.

Playing an undercover policeman who has been written by someone who has seen 'Infernal Affairs', Yen travels to the mainland from Hong Kong to track down an old acquaintance and essentially bring him down.  Cue some pretty impressive fight scenes (some interesting mixed-martial arts action) and some nicely filmed action scenes and you have your lot. Much like many action films you can watch these days, there is a sense that you can feel desensitised to what you see before you. But, every now and again, I do get the sense of having seen some well done stunt work that does need some applauding. This has that: while not exactly groundbreaking, it does deserve some recognition in parts. With Donnie Yen, you get what you pay for.

With the previous Terracotta Far East Film Festivals I've been to in the past, I know I've not exactly seen the best of the best of Asian cinema. The films are always entertaining, but never outstanding. But I never feel that's the aim of the festival. With emphasis on leading more mainstream offerings, director and actor Q&As and having a beer and some dim sum by the end of it, they are always as much about the gathering than the films themselves, with the chance to meet, greet and discuss and that's never a bad thing.    

Ghost in the Shell: Arise

Prequels are usually pointless, telling storylines that we already know and cashing-in on the popularity of previous films. If you look at it from this perspective, which I am, prequels are often lazy attempts to milk that cash cow dry!

Any new GITS (haha, gits) variation, therefore, is always going to be compared to what came before it - supposedly what comes after it. The original films by Mamoru Oshii are standards by which a lot of anime is set, complemented by the two strong 'GITS: Stand Alone Complex' series by Kenji Kamiyama. So, as I've stated I'm going to do this, I will compare the new incarnations to the previous works, because I'm like that.

To start, the look of the animation and character design is very much more aligned with the 'Stand Alone Complex' TV series and this is not necessarily a bad thing. The lead characters have obviously been designed to look younger, with the greatest age difference seeming to come in Major Kusunagi's character, looking more like an obnoxious schoolgirl than anything.

Secondly: the sound. Whether the previous films or TV series, the music has always been strong in 'Ghost in the Shell', but here it is altogether more bizarre. 'Stand Alone Complex' had good music, but was a big step down from Kenji Kawai's original soundtracks. And the 'GITS: Arise' offerings are a further step down. The opening credits are what sounds like the result of a fan staying up all night on their computer with some completely non-descript pieces throughout. With the opening credits, immediately you feel that this is not going to be as good as what came before.

Lastly, the storylines: With both 'Border 1: Ghost Pain' and 'Border 2: Ghost Whispers', the storylines are quite political and quite uninteresting. Neither particularly grabs the attention and can lead to moments of distraction along the way. Perhaps the problem is the duration of these prequels. At around fifty minutes each, they do not offer the ability to delve as deep as the films, nor offer bite-size storylines in a more grand arc, like 'Stand Alone Complex'.

For me, this is probably the key failing. Oshii's films were visual feasts, offering moments of reflection and philosophy in between lavish pieces of animation, getting into the psychology of its characters. The two TV series also developed interesting storylines over their twenty-six episodes. Depth and detail are what made 'Ghost in the Shell' so interesting. 'Arise' just seems to lack this a little.

All-in-all, the 'Arise' series of prequels just doesn't create enough interest, other than being a new take on a well-established franchise. They will always be compared to what came before them: it will always happen. One can only hope the next instalment, 'Ghost Tears' will offer something more. But currently, they feel little more than a couple of 'GITS: SAC' episodes - and not particularly your favourites - that don't do quite enough to stand alone.