Last Week's Movies #46

I watch so many movies that my movie memory is started to overload. So I've decided to start doing short reviews for each film I've watched during the week. Often they'll be movies I'm viewing for the first time, but some may be favourites that are getting their latest re-watch.

Un Chien Andalou

(France, 1929, Luis Buñuel)

10/10

What is there to say about Un Chien Andalou that hasn't been said? Seeing that is from 1929, directed by Luis Buñuel with the involvement of Salvador Dali, the answer is nothing. But I'll repeat what everyone else has already said anyway. This is a masterpiece of surrealism, but sometimes I like to think of it as the greatest student film ever made. Personally, I believe that Buñuel went on to make far better work than Un Chien Andalou - though (kind of sadly), this remains his most famous film - but still, it's hard to ignore the youthful madness on offer. Un Chien Andalou is more than just "that film with the eyeball slicing opening" - that scene still packs a punch, mind you - from start to finish Buñuel and Dali construct a series of visually jaw dropping vignettes that are sometimes disturbing and sometimes funny (or both). Seeing ants crawling out of a man's hand still blows my tiny brain to smithereens. There's (deliberately) little subtext in Un Chien Andalou - although, search the internet and you can read a thousand different theories - and that's part of its surrealistic power. This is pure surrealism and the beginning of the most consistently brilliant film career in cinematic history. Yes, as far as I'm concerned, there is no greater filmmaker than Luis Buñuel.   

For a Few Dollars More
aka Per qualche dollaro in più

(Italy, 1965, Sergio Leone)

9.5/10

Fistful of Dollars is a great spaghetti western, but Leone certainly stepped things up with For a Few Dollars More. While not quite the perfect perfection of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, For a Few Dollars More is still a brilliant film and one of the best spaghetti westerns around. For starters, it has a great cast. It's somewhat of a nerdy wet dream to see Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef in a partnership rather than squaring off against each other (although there's still a bit of that - and it's great too). Gian Maria Volonté is a villain to be reckoned with and is every bit as good as Cleef's antagonist role in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly. Morricone's score is wonderful - Eastwood and Cleef are designated signature twangs, which is a great touch. Morricone's score is perhaps the most iconic aspect of these films and is as important as Leone's mind blowing skills in setting a scene. No one makes movies like Leone, and I'd go as far to say that his westerns excite me more than any other film.  

Hachi-ko
aka Hachikô monogatari

(Japan, 1987, Seijirô Kôyama)

8.5/10

Rather oddly remade as a Richard Gere vehicle, I imagine that this version of Hachi-ko would be significantly less soppy. Of course, I'm being a little judgmental of mainstream American movie making (especially films featuring Gere), but I'm sure I'm not far off with this one. Hachi-ko is the true story of Hachi, the greatest dog to ever live, and his gentle owner. Hachi waits for his master to get back from work every day at Shibuya station. This ritual continues until Hachi's owner dies. Hachi moves from home to home after his master's death, but continues to escape to wait at the station. Wow, I'm getting teary eyed just writing this. The story of Hachi is a sad tale of loyalty and friendship. It's also a story that could be terribly overblown and cheesy if presented incorrectly. Luckily, Hachi-ko is written by the amazing Kaneto Shindo. Its script is heartfelt and touching, yet keeps itself grounded in reality. The film is directed with restraint by Seijirô Kôyama and is filled with lovely subtle performances from the entire leading cast (the dog is especially good). I'd be surprised if anyone could get through the film's final moments without turning into a sobbing wreck. Hachi-ko is a bittersweet experience and leaves you feeling an odd mixture of depression and happiness. This is not a perfect film - the music score can be a little off and it lags in its middle section - but animal lovers will lap it up.   

Lorna

(USA, 1964, Russ Meyer)

6/10

Lorna is a watchable Russ Meyer flick that is a little slow, but ends with an excellent bang. Meyer gives us the story of a housewife, Lorna (Lorna Maitland), who combats her boredom with her life and husband (James Rucker) by sleeping with an escaped convict (Mark Bradley). Taking place over a day, Lorna is a short little film, and I think it could have been even shorter. Not much happens here and there's only so much repetitive taunting from Hal Hopper (I do love the guy) that I can handle. Lorna's finale certainly redeems any sluggish moments that came before it. The finale is swift, violent and is thoroughly entertaining and entirely appropriate. While it's far from his best, Meyer fans will get a kick out of this.   

Memories of Matsuko
aka Kiraware Matsuko no isshô

(Japan, 2006, Tetsuya Nakashima)

9/10

Don't let anyone tell you - as many told me - that Memories of Matsuko is "just like Amélie". Memories of Matsuko is about as far from Amélie as Schindler's List is from Spy Kids. The only thing that you could possibly compare between the two movies is that they share a vaguely similar style; similar in that it is exaggerated and colourful. In tone, structure, theme and story, Memories of Matsuko and Amélie have nothing in common. While Amélie is a gentle (and great) movie, Memories of Matsuko is seriously dark (and great). Tetsuya Nakashima (director of Kamikaze Girls and Confessions) gives us the depressing tale of Matsuko (Ring's Miki Nakatani). Matsuko is dead when the movie opens. She's a victim of murder and her nephew Shô (Eita) is asked by his father to clean up her apartment. As he cleans away her mess and talks to her neighbours and friends, he begins to uncover her sad life story.  

Memories of Matsuko floored me. Matsuko's story is incredibly tragic and Nakatani's performance really sells it. Stylistically, the film shares a lot in common with Nakashima's Kamikaze Girls, but this is a much heavier affair. Visually the film is full of colour, fast cutting and wild camerawork. It is almost like a cartoon, far from what you'd expect from the subject matter. Memories of Matsuko very effectively shifts and changes its visual appearance as we move through different stages of Matsuko's life. In a way, the film's exaggerated style tricks you into a false sense of security before punching you in the guts with harsh reality. The film jumps around in tone; at times it is funny, but mostly it is sad, it can move slowly, and then suddenly it is speeding through events at the speed of light. Somehow, it all works and by the end of the film, I felt like I had a complete portrait of Matsuko. While Matsuko's life is iredeemibly depressing, Memories of Matsuko carries a unique message about the meaning of life (I won't ruin here) that was quite humbling.

Prehistoric Women
aka Slave Girls

(UK, 1967, Michael Carreras)

7/10

Prehistoric Women was made with the leftover sets and costumes from Hammer's expensive production of One Million Years B.C. and written hastily by director/producer/Hammer kingpin Michael Carreras (smartly, under a false name). Strangely enough, I find Prehistoric Women a far more entertaining and satisfying experience when compared to One Million Years B.C. (despite its cool Harryhausen effects, it is a boring turd of a film). Don't get me wrong, Prehistoric Women is a really bad movie, but it is quality trash. Prehistoric Women is perhaps a contender for most ridiculous story ever conceived. Our hero David (Michael Latimer) is a tour guide in the jungle. While bravely heading into the depth of the jungle to kill a wounded jaguar (which he is in fact partly responsible for wounding in the first place, yet the film makes him out to be a fucking hero for killing it), he stumbles upon a symbol of a white rhino. 

Despite being warned by the stereotypical black guys that tag along with him, he waltzes into the white rhino territory, kills his beloved jaguar and then winds up kidnapped by a bunch of natives. They blabber on about white rhinos and wheel out (literally, they wheel it the fuck out) a large rhino statue. They are about to kill him, but then David grabs onto the rhino's horn and he is TRANSPORTED BACK IN FUCKING TIME. This is when shit gets really weird. Trying to help some nutty blonde chick, David is captured by a group of brunette women dressed in One Million Years B.C. bikini outfits. He is taken to their leader, the super hot and super evil Kari (Martine Beswick). The nasty Kari wants to make David her man, but he refuses. You see Kari keeps a pack of blonde women as slaves and sells them off to a primitive tribe as brides every now and then. Suffice to say, David does not approve. The blonde women used to be the rulers of the land, but then the "less intelligent" (no shit, this is actually said by a character in the film) brunettes rose up and took power. Gee, wonder what the very racist analogy is here! David eventually agrees to be Kari's man-slave in order to help free the blonde gals. 

As you can probably guess, Prehistoric Women is pretty flipping nutty. It's clearly an outrageous male fantasy constructed by Carreras. Case in point, our hero is allowed (in a moral sense) to fuck the lovely innocent damsel in distress as well as hot evil villain without getting into trouble with anyone! 

"I don't want to bang that super hot villain Kari! She's mean!" 

"But you have to, David, so you can help us!" 

"Okay then!"

The film is also hilariously racist, although it occasionally drops weird out of character comments to suggest it isn't. The blondes question how they've treated the brunettes and insist that Kari is not evil (they were nasty to her, now she's nasty to them). But then any attempts at anti-racism is wiped out when we return to present day. The "primitive" tribespeople are happy because they're finally allowed to stop worshipping a "false god"... I'm assuming this means they will now become good Christians. Prehistoric Women is also blatantly anti-feminist. The women can only succeed with a man's help (and eventually from the help of a lot of men). Ironically, the only strong character on display is the powerful Kari. Beswick is awesome as Kari, and I couldn't help but be on her side. Horrible sets and inane dialogue abound, Prehistoric Women is dumb fun to the extreme. Hammer fans may struggle with its maniac stupidity, but fans of goofy b-movies will love it.        

A Serious Man

(USA, 2009, Joel & Ethan Coen)

8.5/10

The complete lack of plot and commercial appeal of A Serious Man is proof that the Coen brothers have gotten to the point where they are allowed to do whatever the hell they want. And I'm glad they can. A Serious Man is about Larry Gopnik (Michael Stuhlbarg). Larry is a physics professor and a Jewish man (both important parts of his character). His life is falling to bits; his wife is leaving him for another man, he's being bribed by a student and he can't get an appointment with the wisest rabbi in town. There is a structure to A Serious Man, but it is more a series of scenes than a story with a beginning, middle and end. It is a film about the quest for answers. Larry struggles to understand why everything is going wrong in his life and what he can do to fix things. There are no answers in the film, and rightly so. The film's ending is beyond "open" and will leave a lot of people irritated. After a bit of thought, I decided the ending was perfect. A Serious Man is a film that can be interpreted in entirely different ways depending on your beliefs. I'm sure if you're religious, you'd take a completely different meaning away from the film than I did. The openness of A Serious Man is what made it so appealing to me. An interesting entry in the Coen's oeuvre.

The Skin I Live In
aka La piel que habito

(Spain, 2011, Pedro Almodóvar)

9/10

Wow. Almodóvar's The Skin I Live In is certainly one of the best films of the year and perhaps my favourite of his work (though keep in mind I haven't seen that much yet). I went into this film knowing absolutely nothing about it and I'm really glad of it. The Skin I Live In isn't so much about twists, rather it focuses on slow reveals. As I realised what this film was about, I couldn't get the shocked grin off my face. Almodóvar nails this one. It's quite evil and vicious, but it retains his signature. The insanity of both the plot and the characters quietly grows, and Almodóvar retains the same steady pace throughout until we get to the intense finale. There are no heroic characters on display, all - in a way - are villains, albeit with understandable motives. The Skin I Live In greatly utilises moral ambiguity; one character action in particular has created strong debate amongst viewers. I've tried not to say a word about the plot of The Skin I Live In. Keep it that way and see it! 

The Streetfighter
aka Gekitotsu! Satsujin ken

(Japan, 1974, Shigehiro Ozawa)

8.5/10

The Streetfighter delivers exactly what you want from a Sonny Chiba movie: awesome martial arts, gore, goofy comedy, cartoonish villains and minimal plot. In fact, the plot is so nonexistent that I've pretty much forgotten it altogether. All you need to know is that Sonny Chiba is going to beat some assholes up and maybe save a girl and make some cash along the way. Chiba is great in this one. While he plays the hero, he's a real piece of shit. He sells an innocent girl into sex slavery and all he really cares about is making a quick buck. Yeah, he's a nasty motherfucker, and it makes his character much more interesting than your average protagonist. Chiba is at the top of his game in terms of fighting too. He beats the shit out of a thousand dudes without breaking a sweat. Everything about this film is wonderfully 70s - quality 70s music, lots of mental camerawork and some excellent overacting. The Streetfighter is one of Chiba's most famous films, and it is for a damn good reason!