Travel Pics: Paris - Street Art

I thought I'd focus the first bunch of my pictures of Paris from my recent trip on a scruffier, less typically tourist-y aspect of the city: its wildly inventive graffiti and street art, waiting in plain view to be discovered. Enjoy the colorful works below - many of them may very well be gone by now.

There's No Place Like Home

Hello, all. I'm back once more in Canada (and very glad to be), and it has been an eventful past two weeks for me. The first one was spent at the 10th annual Nippon Connection film festival in Frankfurt, Germany, a great stretch of meeting awesome people and seeing many interesting, mostly good films. I have already covered two so far for the Toronto J-Film Pow-Wow - Takuya Fukushima's unique science fiction-tinted love story Our Brief Eternity and Tomorowo Taguchi's coming of age film Oh, My Buddha! (also known as The Shikisoku Generation), both very good in their own ways. Check out the Pow-Wow for upcoming reviews from me, plus festival coverage and reviews from Chris MaGee, who was also present.

After Nippon Connection was over, many people unfortunately had to deal with flight delays due to the erupting volcano in Iceland - but not me. I instead hopped on a train to Paris to take in the sights and get some R&R for another week. Among the activities I occupied myself with was a visit to the Fondation Cartier building, which is currently hosting a rare exhibit of Japanese filmmaker"Beat" Takeshi Kitano's paintings and art pieces. You can read my report on the exhibit over at the Pow-Wow.

I'll be posting my many, many pictures from my adventures in the weeks to come in installments, so check back here to see 'em! In the meantime, I'll leave you with a bunch of goodies. Firstly, here are links to the blogs for some of the awesome people I met at Nippon Connection (also included in the "Favorite Links" sidebar):

Nishikata Film Review
SchönerDenken
Negativ
Screenshot

As you can see, one of them is the German film blog Schöner Denken. The fine gents who run it actually took some time during the fest to sit down with Chris MaGee and myself to talk a bit about Nippon Connection, the Pow-Wow and Japanese cinema in general. Check out the interview here!

Finally, here are some shots I took of the many very cool, very stylish posters for Nippon Connection that Chris and I found put up around Frankfurt.

Travels 'n' Books

Hello all. Within the next few days, I'll be embarking on a fresh new adventure - namely, the 10th annual Nippon Connection film festival in Frankfurt, Germany, which I'll be attending alongside my Toronto J-Film Pow-Wow boss and friend Chris MaGee. Stay tuned to that site for daily updates and reviews from both of us during the fest (running from April 14th-18th). Reviews will also be cross-posted over at Twitch.

After Nippon wraps up, I'll be spending a week in Paris, France, which I'm also pretty excited about. Expect pictures from both Frankfurt and Paris to be posted up here sometime in early May.

Also, I wanted to highlight an exciting upcoming event: the publication of the Directory of World Cinema: Japan from Intellect, edited by John Berra (who, I'm pleased to learn, will be attending Nippon Connection). Already released in the UK and hitting North American stores on April 15th, it features reviews and essays on a number of different films, filmmakers and subjects from several contributors, including myself and fellow Toronto J-Film Pow-Wow writers Bob Turnbull and Matthew Hardstaff. You can currently obtain a free PDF download of the book at the provided link. I got my copy a few weeks ago, and can honestly say that it is quite nicely put together and should be a pretty spiffy volume for Japanese cinema fans to add to their bookshelves.


Here is some information about and links where you can purchase the Japan volume:

ISBN 9781841503356
Volume 1
Paperback 350 pages
240x170mm
Published February 2010
Imprint: Intellect

Amazon.ca
Amazon.com
Intellect

Now, this book is part of a new series, the Directory of World Cinema, that will dedicate each volume to a different area of world cinema. I am currently contributing to the France volume, and some of the others being put together (and looking for other contributors) will look at Australia and New Zealand, Spain, Germany, Eastern Europe and many more areas of the world. Right now, you can download the American Independent volume (also edited by John Berra) for free right here.

Two Children's Films

Lately, I've been kind-of getting in tune with my inner child, as I finally picked up two very different, but equally fascinating kids films. However, the films by no means limit their ambitions as a result of making children their main audience - which is really the key to making something worthwhile in that sub-genre. Instead, each one is a marvelous feat of imagination that is definitely worth any film fan's attention.

The Red Balloon (1956)
Director: Albert Lamorisse
Country: France


I begin with a true classic of French cinema that I was woefully late in discovering - but better late than never. Especially for this film, a brief, eloquent fable about a Parisian boy (played by the director's son Pascal) and a round, red balloon he finds tied to a post. Right away, he becomes quite attached to it, but it isn't until after it is set adrift out his window and it floats back to him that boy and balloon begin to forge an actual friendship. As it follows Pascal through Paris and to and from school, it draws attention and causes mischief while acting as a sort of guardian to the boy.

Lamorisse and cinematographer Edmond Séchan make great use of the Ménilmontant neighborhood where the story takes place. Pascal and his brightly-colored friend wander through a world of everyday urban activities and sights - one that, in contrast with both the fairy tale quality of the narrative and the balloon's vibrant red hue, often appears quite drab, dirty and grey. As a result, The Red Balloon has a sort of New Wave vibe in the way the camera captures shops, people, the classic green Paris buses and worn buildings in true street cinema fashion, making it not all that dissimilar from Jean-Pierre Melville's crackling crime caper Bob le flambeur, which was released in the same year and adopts a similarly astute perspective of the Montmartre portion of the city.

The simplistic nature of the story and characters allow the viewer a fair bit of freedom when it comes to interpreting what the meaning or moral of the tale exactly is. To me, the balloon serves as a symbol of something like hope, happiness or (my personal favorite) a particular passion that a person, much like Pascal, would discover, seek comfort from and protect. Throughout the film, people react to the balloon with annoyance and cruelty. Some of them are adults who find the balloon's presence disruptive or distracting, but a more direct threat arises in the second half of the film in the form of a roving gang of bullies who chase Pascal and seek to take the balloon from him. To me, they particularly represent hurtful forces of the outside world who, stricken with jealousy, seek to destroy that which they cannot have.

So, like terrible stray dogs, they hunt Pascal and his balloon through the alleys of Paris, leading to what has to be one of the saddest moments ever made for a children's film. Yet it is very soon after followed up by a gloriously cathartic ending that simultaneously makes me a little teary every time I see it (especially thanks to Maurice Leroux's score, which is consistently excellent throughout the entire film) and makes me wonder if the makers of Pixar's Up were at all influenced by the film.

I'm so glad I finally got around to watching The Red Balloon. There is apparently a sequel to it entitled Stowaway in the Sky (or Le voyage en ballon, which I personally prefer to the English title) from 1960, but, like my buddy Chris MaGee who refuses to watch Wim Wenders' Wings of Desire follow-up Faraway, So Close!, I think I'll probably be avoiding it as a sign of respect to the original. I am, however, very interested in seeing some of Lamorisse's other works, among them White Mane, which got a Region 1 DVD release alongside The Red Balloon from Janus Films not too long ago. In the meantime, The Red Balloon will be treasure enough.

Fantastic Mr Fox (2009)
Director: Wes Anderson
Country: United States of America


Upon watching Fantastic Mr Fox, I was so relieved not only to see just now nicely Wes Anderson adapted his usual style to a younger audience, but also that he had continued with the winning streak he had picked up on with The Darjeeling Limited after the lack-luster The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Like that film, Fantastic Mr Fox was co-written by Anderson and Noah Baumbach, a team that has redeemed itself fully for the crimes of the former (too broad a canvas, not enough focus on character, humor too heavy-handed, tonal shifts too drastic and poorly handled) with the success of the latter. In fact, it is interesting to pick up on the similarities between Life and Fox, most prominent among them being that each has as its protagonist an ego-driven patriarch who yearns to relive his former glories and reassert his legendary reputation through one last great adventure. Both films also feature remarkably supportive wives, elaborate plans of sabotage, accompanying stunts and explosives, (figurative) sibling rivalries (Klaus and Ned; Ash and Kristofferson) and a final team rescue mission. Yet, thankfully, Fox follows Darjeeling's example by keeping the film's main focus placed on the characters and their individual problems.

Fantastic Mr Fox even carries over Darjeeling's excellent use of detail and minor elements - a trait common in Anderson's films, but utilized in relation to the story and characters particularly well in his last two films. In Darjeeling, there are so many "little things" that tell you something about the characters and ricochet throughout the whole movie (and Hotel Chevalier, its accompanying short), some of them being Jack's Parisian music boxes, the Voltaire #6 perfume, the ever-prominent luggage, Jack's writing and the character of Brendan (played by Anderson's amigo Wally Wolodarsky). Fox similarly carries many such small yet integral reoccurring details, including Mrs Fox's paintings, the fate of Mr Fox's tail, the minor character of Agnes and, of course, Whack-Bat, probably the best fictitious sport since Quidditch.

Anderson handles all of these details very well in the film - and the fact that they are presented in animated form makes them all the more enjoyable. Anderson's tendency towards neatness and detail pays off quite nicely in stop motion, often making a world so intricately designed (kudos to the production team and animators) that I often wished the film would slow down a bit just so my eyes could take more of it in. On a related note, the film could have kept going on for two hours longer than it did, so fun and engaging is its whole sense of pace and style. Capping it all off is a superb cast, with excellent voice work provided by main players George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Jason Schwartzman, Eric Anderson (Wes' brother, who played Kristofferson), Wolodarsky (as the absolutely hilarious possum Kylie) Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe and Owen Wilson. Yet there are also quite a few neat bit players who provided their voices: Brian Cox, Roman Coppola, Adrien Brody, Jarvis Cocker, chef Mario Batali and even Anderson himself as Weasel. For me, though, the guy who really stole the show was Michael Gambon as Bean, the third of the three mean farmers who go head-to-head with Mr Fox. He truly pulls off a great bit of voice work with his deliciously sinister English voice and such memorable lines as "That's just weak songwriting. You wrote a bad song, Petey!"

Like The Darjeeling Limited before it, Fantastic Mr Fox is a film I just know I will give repeat viewings for some time to come, probably with rewarding results each time. Simply, it works as a kid's movie, it works as a Wes Anderson movie - it just works. And yes, it is quite fantastic.

Happy 100th Birthday, Kurosawa-san!

Today, March 23rd, 2010, marks the centennial of great Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa's birth. In his diverse career, which has produced classics in the samurai and noir genres as well as literary adaptations, character studies situated in postwar Tokyo and more artistically driven exercises, he has continually inspired and fascinated countless viewers - and will no doubt continue to do so for a long time to come.

Leading up to this occasion (and partially explaining my lack of activity on this site - my apologies), I've been occupied with quite a few pieces that honor Kurosawa and a few of my favorite films of his.

First, I took a look at the new book by film scholar Peter Cowie, Akira Kurosawa: Master of Cinema. Published by Rizzoli, it provides the perfect overview of Kurosawa's work. Read my review for the Toronto J-Film Pow-Wow here.

Also over at the Pow-Wow, you can check out my interview with Cowie himself, in which I ask him a few questions about the book and Kurosawa, plus my Pow-Wow review of what many consider to be Kurosawa's greatest film: Seven Samurai.

I've also been busy over at Row Three, where the staff have all been enthusiastically chiming in on Kurosawa's films. Check out my review of his 1970 underrated gem Dodes'ka-den here, then click here to see all of the Row Three crowd's Kurosawa reviews.

After you do all that, I certainly hope you celebrate Kurosawa-san's birthday - perhaps with a drink and one of his films, which sounds pretty good to me.

Grab Bag

I've been venturing out to the movie theatre quite a bit recently, catching up on some of the high points of the past year and decade (the latter thanks to the Cinematheque Ontario's Best of the Decade program). As a result, this post is a small cinematic cornucopia of sorts, focusing on four very different, very good foreign films I've seen in the past few weeks.

Syndromes and a Century (2006)
Director: Apichatpong Weerasethakul
Country: Thailand


After having missed it when it first appeared at the Cinémathèque Ontario, I was very glad to finally see what many are calling the best film of the decade. I had heard much about Apichatpong Weerasethakul and the fresh, idiosyncratic quality that defines his films, and discovering both for the first time was a genuine pleasure. On the surface, Syndromes tells two parallel stories. One is set at a hospital in the countryside and follows one man as he tries to confess his love to a doctor who works there, while the other relocates to a more sterile hospital in the city, containing some elements from the first part while moving in a different direction. This interesting, unconventional dual structure invites a fair amount of pondering, not least of all over the differences between the rural setting and the urban one. The film all but begs for multiple viewings, which are sure to offer new discoveries, rewards and revelations. I'd love to see it again if only to take in its warmth and compassionate worldview, which is often reminiscent of Ozu and Truffaut. There are virtually no villains to be found, but instead one fascinating character after the next. My favorites would probably be the Buddhist monk who dreams of being a DJ and a dentist who sings country songs in a green jacket in his spare time.

Mystifying and compelling, Syndromes adopts a Murakami-like approach to narrative, following its own course and taking many unexpected twists and turns, often in directions entirely unanticipated by the viewer. There are also hints of Weerasethakul's background as an avant-garde artist, leading to moments of contemplation and tranquility all too seldom experienced in films.

Now that my curiosity has been temporarily satisfied, I am quite eager to see both more of Weerasethakul's films and Syndromes and a Century again soon.

Waltz with Bashir (2008)
Director: Ari Folman
Country: Israel


Waltz with Bashir, the only animated film to be nominated for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar thus far, is quite fascinating for the way it approaches both the historical and the personal. It explores the events of the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon, but not in a distant, documentary-like way. Instead, it is more along the lines of a personal account or confession as director Ari Folman, who partook in the campaign as a young man, tries to remember what transpired there and makes sense of dreams and images that he experiences. He tracks down and interviews several people involved in the conflict, some of whom he served alongside. By confronting his personal demons, Folman simultaneously conducts a sort of study of suppressed guilt that has afflicted Israel in terms of its past.

With its foggy borderline between historical fact and the dreams and memories of the Israeli soldiers, Waltz definitely makes the most of its animated form. Many of the images used to tell its twisty story are quite beautiful and surreal, dipping into Fellini-esque territory at times while keeping true to the brutal realities of the Lebanon conflict, which are gradually revealed as the film continues in an intriguing, detective-like fashion that keeps you hooked. Its conclusion is marked by a stylistic move that is daring, drastic and extremely effective in its emotional resonance - very much like a similar moment in Chris Marker's La Jetée.

Waltz with Bashir is much more than an animated documentary, anti-war statement or autobiographical confession. It is an imaginative journey to find truth in the murky depths of memory and time.

Songs From the Second Floor (2000)
Director: Roy Andersson
Country: Sweden


I had heard quite a bit about Roy Andersson, this film and his follow-up, You, the Living, which was recently released on Region 1 DVD, before catching it with a few friends at the Cinémathèque Ontario. I didn't want to miss the chance to see this one-of-a-kind gem on the big screen, and I sure wasn't disappointed. Following one poor businessman and the various people around him in a dark, depressing city, it has been described as Ingmar Bergman meets Monty Python, which is pretty accurate. Yet the figure I was most reminded of was Jacques Tati. Presented in only 46 shots (all but one of them completely stationary) with amazing visual compositions and great comedic details in both image and sound, Songs possesses the same kind of control, originality and social commentary as seen in films like Mon Oncle and Playtime, albeit with a nightmarish slant. I will definitely be checking out You, the Living before too long, so eager will I be to revisit the unique world of Andersson's imagination.

The White Ribbon (2009)
Director: Michael Haneke
Country: Germany


I was glad to finally catch Michael Haneke's latest, much celebrated film The White Ribbon, which of course won the Palme d"Or at Cannes. Set in a small German village shortly before the outbreak of World War I, it tells the story of a number of unusual occurrences that fall upon its inhabitants. A doctor's horse is tripped by a thin wire that mysteriously disappears before it can be more fully investigated. A woman falls through rotten floorboards at her place of work and dies shortly after. A barn catches on fire. Two children are tortured and left tied up in the woods.

As intriguing as these incidents may be in and of themselves, they serve a purpose similar to the threatening videotapes and drawings in Caché - the point isn't the discovery of the perpetrator(s), but rather the effects they have on the film's characters. In the village, they stir up a veritable hornet's nest of suspicion, distrust, simmering hatred and long-stewing resentment. While the village's severe, commanding adults (namely, its authority figures, which include the Baron and the Pastor) are most deserving of scrutiny, its children, who are often seen together in conspiratorial groups, don't always seem all that innocent either.

I'd very much like to see The White Ribbon again soon, if only to better take in its many secrets and messages. Apart from providing, in typical Haneke fashion, plenty of food for thought, the film is expertly paced and absolutely gorgeous, mainly thanks to Christian Berger's black-and-white cinematography, which was apparently inspired by Sven Nykvist's work for Ingmar Bergman. While I have yet to see any of the other nominees for this year's Best Foreign Language Film Oscar race (including France's A Prophet), I would not at all be surprised to see Haneke up on the Oscar podium this coming March for this excellent, truly masterful achievement of his.

Egyptian Cinema Double Shot

I thought the best way to start up a brand new year review-wise here would be to shed some light on two films from one of the most respected directors on the other side of the world: Youssef Chahine of Egypt, who passed away in July of 2008. Throughout his prolific career, he worked in a number of different genres and produced a quartet of autobiographical films known as the Alexandria series. I recently watched the first two:

Alexandria...Why (1978)
Director: Youssef Chahine
Country: Egypt


Alexandria...Why? is, at its core, a coming-of-age story set in the titular Egyptian city during World War II. Its main character is Yehia (Mohsin Mohieddin), a movie-crazy young man who spends most of his time wandering the town with his friends, catching films at the theatre and putting on lively stage performances that satirize the war and its participants (British, Italians and, most prominently, Hitler and his Nazi followers). Essentially, Yehia is a dreamer who harbors high hopes of becoming an actor - hopes that run contrary to his family's plans for him (which include a career as an engineer and a full-time job at a bank that he holds for a short period of time).

Perhaps the most striking thing about Alexandria...Why? is its dizzying tone. At times overflowing with melodrama, the film is messy, loud, energetic and highly emotional, often deploying bombastic musical flourishes and jumping from one scene to the next. Overall, I found myself very strongly reminded of Federico Fellini's similar circus-like style, particularly as seen in later films such as Amarcord (and indeed, with its focus on town life, youth and fascism, Alexandria...Why? shares much in common with that specific Fellini film). There are also moments of religious guilt that recall similar scenes in 8 1/2.

Apart from Yehia and his friends, the film tracks a few other characters in smaller story strands, including a relationship between a wealthy Arab and a young British soldier with shades of homo-eroticism and a group of guys who humorously scheme to capture Winston Churchill in order to put an end to the war. Chahine makes extensive use of stock footage, grounding the film's events in its historical context while continually sweeping the viewer away from one scene to the next. In its final moments, the film finally hits upon a solid plot thread that follow Yehia's family as they scramble to find the money needed to send him to New York to study acting. Leading up to that (and even during that hectically-paced sub-plot), it is a veritable emotional roller coaster, going from excitement, to tears to laughs and back again. It makes for a jarring and unpredictable viewing experience, but I still found myself liking Alexandria...Why? very much, and curious to see what Chahine had to offer with his next entry in the series.


An Egyptian Story (1982)
Director: Youssef Chahine
Country: Egypt

I thankfully found An Egyptian Story to be much more focused than its predecessor. It returns to Yehia (Nour El-Sherif), who is now an acclaimed filmmaker. Overcome by stress during the shoot of his latest film, he is forced to go into heart surgery - which gives way to a fantasy in which he is put on trial by his conscience, forcing him to look back at his past, the people in his life and his steady path of progress as an artist.


An Egyptian Story certainly contains traces of the same tumultuous, emotional melodrama on display in Alexandria...Why?, but this time limited to certain passages - most notably the court scenes, shot in a creatively constructed set made to resemble Yehia's body (ribs serve as overheard arches, and tubes flowing with blood and other fluids are easily visible). Once again, I was very strongly reminded of both the energetic bustle and nostalgic tendencies of Fellini's work, with, this time, 8 1/2 being the clearest counterpart in both tone and subject matter, though An Egyptian Story is very much its own film. Personally, I found its best parts to be the scenes that follow Yehia's numerous experiences and adventures as a filmmaker, which include a less-than-perfect visit to the Cannes Film Festival and an unexpected trip to Moscow, both to promote films of his. At this point, it is worth noting that this film quite directly presents Yehia as an alter-ego for Chahine (even more so than Alexandria...Why?). The main hint is given through Yehia's films' titles (among them Cairo Station and Jamila) and plots, which are identical to ones from Chahine's own filmography. Once again, New York is portrayed with much reverence and affection, and Mohsen Mohieddin returns to play the young Yehia.

Ultimately, I was much more on board with this film as it charted its strange, unique course through Yehia's life and explored his relationships with his wife, daughter, mother, father and friends and collaborators. Altogether, though, I was quite glad to finally be able to see some of Chahine's films, and was pleased with what his first two autobiographical works had to offer. I hope to soon see the other two in the series (entitled Alexandria, Again and Forever and Alexandria...New York) as well as older works of his (at the top of the list would be Cairo Station, which, from what I've read, is easily one of Chahine's most noteworthy films).

My Favorite Actors of 2009

Here are two last picks for 2009: my favorite actors of the year.

Actor of the Year: Mathieu Amalric


Yes, I am fully aware of how excellent Christoph Waltz is in Inglourious Basterds, and if there is any justice whatsoever in this wicked world, we'll see him accepting his well-deserved Oscar in a few months. But for me, the actor who kept popping up and grabbing my attention was Mathieu Amalric. Most people know this distinctive, charismatic actor from his turn as Dominic Green in Quantum of Solace, which I revisited a few times on DVD this year. Besides that, he turned up in two films I saw at TIFF: Les derniers jours du monde, in which he provided a solid lead performance at the centre of an interesting yet somewhat unfocused end-of-the-world film, and Tsai Ming-liang’s Visage, in which he randomly turned up for one scene. Add to that his excellent job in Arnaud Desplechin’s A Christmas Tale, a film I just love, and the news that he got to work with Alain Resnais in Wild Grass, and it seems he was everywhere this past year. I will definitely make an effort to see more of his stuff within the next year, namely the highly acclaimed The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Desplechin’s Kings and Queen, which will be screening at the Cinémathèque Ontario in late February, and Wild Grass, if it ever gets a release date over here (and I certainly hope it does, as I am very, very curious about it).

Runners-up: Christoph Waltz, Michael Fassbender, Jeremy Renner, Michael Stuhlbarg, Dany Boon


Actress of the Year: Mélanie Laurent


Yup, it seems I'm going all French with my actor picks for 2009 - but considering the actors, that's perfectly fine with me. And as much as I enjoyed seeing Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick, Zooey Deschanel, Zoë Saldana, Diane Kruger, Laetitia Casta and Fanny Ardant onscreen, the one who really shone this year was Mélanie Laurent as Quentin's latest female avenger Shosanna in Inglourious Basterds. The scene with the red dress and the Bowie says it all, but she is terrific throughout the whole film - her tense meeting with Hans Landa over strudel, her cool attitude towards Daniel Brühl's persistent Fredrick Zoller, her clear love for cinema, her tender relationship with Jacky Ido's Marcel. Yup, she really knocked it out of the park, and I'd love to find more films with her (like Jacques Audiard's The Beat That My Heart Skipped, which I've heard great things about, and the recent Paris, starring Juliette Binoche).

Runners-up: Katee Sackhoff, Zooey Deschanel, Zoë Saldana