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.