Bob Le Flambeur (1956)

Bob Le Flambeur ("Bob the Gambler" or "Bob the High Roller") tells the tale of a life-long gambler who has his ups & downs (more "downs" as of late) with the cards, but keeps as steady a pace as his modest means can afford him. He lives in a semi-posh neighborhood in Paris, but spends a majority of his time ducking in and out of small card clubs and dive bars to catch his next gamble. Bob is also a mentor to a younger, hipper guy named Paulo who aims to be Bob personified. Bob's (and everyone's) troubles begin when he befriends Anne, a fresh-faced street-walker, who takes Bob for just another well-off guy who wants to lavish the young Lolita with gifts for sex, but is genuinely curious about her motivations in life.

The whole relationship (if you could call it one) is very light and platonic, with Bob giving her a place to stay (she had just been hopping from bed to bed) while he stays out all day gambling. He introduces Anne to Paulo and he falls for her, of course. She could care less about who she's with as long as they spoil her, but Paulo is young and foolish and confides in her one night in bed about a fantastic heist Bob has planned on a regional casino, despite Bob's friendly warning.The next night, Anne has too much to drink and relays Paulo's bombastic promise to spoil her after the heist to a local pimp named Marc she's about to sleep with. Marc's plan to utilize his strong pimp hand on Anne is put on the back burner, as he needs to give this new-found information to the police in order to keep himself out of jail for beating up his own wife (who he's also pimping out). Everything falls on one long night, laying in wait to pull the heist.

Although Bob Le Flambeur isn't as gripping as the aforementioned heist films, it does paint a brilliant picture. Bob's quid pro quo with Inspector Ledru could very well be the inspiration for the modern heist classic Heat's DeNiro-Pacino tête-à-tête. And Criterion sure makes a damn fine looking DVD.

I have some catching up to do in the 'review' department.

Morvern Callar

Transsiberian (director Brad Anderson) didn't quite captivate as a thriller/mystery adventure; I tried to believe what I was seeing but it all seemed a bit superficial in the character department. I expected Anderson at some point to pick whether he wanted the plot to drive the film or allow the distinguishable cast to dictate the action — his indecision, or bullish intentions, left Transsiberian somewhere in between Christopher Nolan's Insomnia (which I liked) and Alfred Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train (which put me to sleep).

Greenhorn filmmaker Courtney Hunt, on the other hand, spins an engrossing yarn with Frozen River's confluence of single-parent family issues, immigration, human trafficking, isolation (small town life, segregation, borders, personal footing, and more) that although it's meant to give auds something to think on, is more soft-thriller than finger-waving drama. Melissa Leo, in a role not so far removed from her Marianne Jordan character in 2003's 21 Grams, is an outright force. Almost co-star Misty Upham plays a bingo greeter turned human smuggler who smoothly ropes Leo's character into assisting on a "run" across the US/Canadian border. This is definitely Leo's film, yet each and every role is a concrete as the one it succeeds. Could be the freshness of the direction that facilitates this sense, but I couldn't imagine that as a flaw.

Watched Lolita '62 & '97 (Stanley Kubrick and Adrian Lyne respectively) and was bored stupid for nearly 5 hours. Kubrick's Lolita has an air of respectability due to its play-like execution and the fact it doesn't revel in letting auds watch a grown man having a twelve year old for 2+ hours — a world of difference between the two films. Dominique Swain was actually 15, if it matters - Sue Lyon was 16. As an aside, both Lolitas suffered a professional curse of sorts for their troubles. Reading a few chapters into the Nabokov source material some time ago had me thinking this, not Burroughs’ much referenced Naked Lunch, should elicit conversations of unfilmability. I think Lolita's motivations would have made for a superior essay for what it's worth. Anyway, read the book, if you're so inclined.

I revisited What's Eating Gilbert Grape (Lasse Hallström, 1993) a few weeks ago and continue to be blown away by the Becky character. Juliette Lewis manifests one of the most refreshing and prudent, yet wholly empathetic, characters in all of film.

A movie I pulled from Scott Tobias' 'New Cult Canon', Morvern Callar, was a genuine surprise despite its morose first third act. A pre-Precog Samantha Morton is poised to shed the yoke and boredom of small town life upon her boyfriend's Christmas Day suicide with the aid of his recently finished novel and explicit directions to shop the book to a prepared list of publishers. She chooses to hide the suicide from everybody, including her very best friend Lana, while she attempts to rationalize the suicide — from the latter to maintain the friendship. She moves ahead with her boyfriend's wishes, all the while moving on with the next part of her life. This movie has a River's Edge meets The Ice Storm temperament that I like - grounded and sober, almost stark, and unavoidable despite their contents.

Alive (2002)

Alive begins an prisoner Tenshu Yashiro (Hideo Sakaki; Battlefield Baseball, Versus) is led into a vaulted room where 3 men stand watch from an observation window high above a massive electric chair. Tenshu is about to die for murdering a group of men that raped his girlfriend, and also for ultimately murdering her. After he's locked into the chair and the voltage courses through his body, the two guards who led him in unlock the restraints and Tenshu opens his eyes. The director of this "prison facility", Kojima (Jun Kunimura; Vital, Audition, Ichi The Killer) informs him that he's been selected to participate in an experiment of sorts. He agrees and later awakens in an observation room with another "saved" prisoner named Matsuda (Shun Sugata); who's entire life has been a felony. Both are treated like royalty for several days. They're treated to wine & steak dinners, trendy clothing and for Matsuda, gallons of alcohol. All the while, a heard, but yet unseen group have been subtly (and not so subtly) manipulating the room's environment to prepare the inmates to a larger stimuli. After several more days of behavioral testing, with the two nearly killing each other at various points, a large door opens at the far end of the room and an attractive woman stands alone behind a thick, transparent wall. She explains to the men that she's a witch and, to Matsuda in particular, that if one kills the other, he can enter her room. Do the math. What the two prisoners don't know is that the prison is using them as bait to coax a mysterious force called "Isomer" from the woman. The movie progresses into a battle between the group conducting the experiments, the prisoners, the woman, and an outside government agency interested in capturing the "Isomer" for more nefarious purposes.

Kudos to director Ryuhei Kitamura (Versus, Azumi) for his tight, controlled portrayal of part of Tsutomu Takahashi manga series Sky High. I haven't read or seen said manga, but it's apparent that Kitamura had the original work in mind at all times. Highly stylized costumes, action that's purposely and abruptly stopped in careful poses, perfect symmetry in nearly every frame, and deliberate lighting. Hallmarks of the craft. For me, I still prefer the anime cyberpunk to the live-action kind, if any. Alive's themes will be familiar to those who have seen greater works on the arrogance of man or man's folly or attempts to manipulate nature such as Akira and Ghost In The Shell. In the end, Alive neither reaches the same level of intensity nor employs the same kind of vision the others do. It's just too obtuse, to be honest.

Alive is (needlessly?) broken up by chapter markers, such as "Day 3", "Day 9", "The Confrontation", "The Edge", and "Isomer", (to name a few) and takes place almost entirely in a bleak, industrial facility. Watching did became a bit tiresome. Dull and dark, blues, grays and blacks dominate the scenery. Bolster that backdrop with an almost constant techno-ish soundtrack pulsing in the background (at varying volumes) and the ambiance began to wear on me, if not border on annoying. But again, fans of the style with completely get off on those qualities. That's just my take. The final third, as Tenshu nears his fate, is filled with decent special effects, but falls flat with mediocre fight scenes and long-winded explanations of the plot. In fact, Kitamura utilizes these diatribes (almost exclusively) to further a story that would otherwise be too ridiculous or confusing to perpetuate itself. Alive's attraction will ultimately be it's Matrix-esque effects and posturing, outmoded kung-fu action but certainly not it's supposed take on a nihilistic future. For a true dystopian fix, try Blade Runner, Chiaki Konaka's Serial Experiments: Lain, or page thru a book of H. R. Giger's artwork while Godflesh's "Streetcleaner" fills your ears.

Another thing that really bugged me about the entire production was the lack of effort (besides the special effects) that seemed to go into Alive. For the level of quality, there was an endless supply of bonus material on the DVD (2-disc) and the subtitles appeared to have been tacked on as an afterthought. The subtitle thing bothered me the most, as the pacing was way off. Sloppy work indeed. Now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised to find that a third party handled them. A brief scene or two on relationships and the power of forgiveness also seem out of place, and carries all the conviction of a cheesy telenovela.

Alice (Neco z Alenky, 1988)

Needless to say, Guillermo del Toro's El Laberinto del Fauno doesn't quite corner the market when it comes to adolescent escapism; it's simply the latest of such films which portray (usually little girls, for some reason) retreating into their own mind to escape some unpleasantness in reality. One might think of this as a sort of daydream? In any event, a tale which predates Pan's Labyrinth by some 140 years sparked the creative genius of surrealist Czech filmmaker Jan Svankmajer in the form of 1988's Alice, a retelling of Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Svankmajer utilizes, bear with me, a mixture of live action and stop-motion animation to spin the sometimes bizarre interpretation. Alice's adventure begins in an innocently enough scene where Alice (played by one-and-done dough-eyed actress Kristýna Kohoutová) is throwing stones into a pond while sitting beside her mother, who reads from a large, untitled book. The tone turns suspicious when Alice is slapped for fondling the pages of said book and she (and we) are transported to Alice's room where she sits beside two dolls while tossing pebbles into a cup & saucer of tea; a taxidermy white rabbit in the corner of her room is brought to life. The chase begins.

Interpretations of Svankmajer's visionary redux span the gamut; from a child's response to severe discipline (scenes of continuously locked doors culminate in Alice being shut in her home's pantry and the King & Queen of Hearts demanding an confectionery confession at Alice's trial), to the phantasmagorical decor Alice resides in predisposing her to fantastic fantasies. A product of her environment, per se. All of this can be put aside, of course, and it can be enjoyed a skillfully organic vision. Be relieved that most of the iconic characters are included in one form or another. Most note-worthy, a symbiosis between character-puppets Mad Hatter and Doormouse, who shift from chair to chair in order to make use of a "clean cup", of which is eventually licked clean again by a fox pelt. And that's a hundredth of Alice's treats! Camilla Power provides the minimal English voice-over work. A must see.

The Eel (Unagi, 1997)

One of my favorite actors is Koji Yakusho. He has a way of melting into his characters and becoming them in a very basic, natural manner. I hadn't realized he was in Unagi, (or had forgotten), so I was pleasantly surprised to witness another brilliant yet subdued performance on his part. Brilliant in 1997's Cure, acclaimed for his role in 1999's Charisma, 2000's Korei, his brief appearance in 2001's horror masterpiece Kairo, a Jeremy Irons-like duplicitous role in 2003's Doppelganger, his resume is one of the best. This was the first non-horror film I've seen of his. In Unagi, he plays Takuro, a white-collar salaryman who works in the city and resides in a small countryside village with his beautiful wife named Emiko. He has a long commute to and from his job and a seemingly dull or uneventful job (although we only get a minimal glimpse of it at the very beginning of the film). On a regular basis, he joins friends, acquaintances and perhaps colleagues to fish the sea on a pier outside of the close-knit village.

Takuro squeezes onto the same train everyday, probably in the same car... well, you get the idea of a regimented lifestyle, but one Takuro seems to willingly get by with. One particular day on the trip home, he pulls an anonymous note from his pocket and reads that his wife has been having an affair, usually whilst he is fishing. I wondered why the movie didn't set the affair to coincide with him being at work, but it makes more sense when you see it. He makes his walk down the narrow road to his home and greets his smiling wife. He ditches his suit , accepts a prepared, boxed dinner (lovingly wrapped) and leaves per usual for much fishing. It's eerie to hear Emiko ask "How long will you be gone?" as a viewer because we obviously know what's happening. Takuro doesn't miss a beat and responds that he'll 'be gone as long as usual'. Takuro spends a shorter time at the pier tan usual and bids the others farewell. On the way, he reminisces about the anonymous note; it also mentions what type and color the man arrived in. When he arrives to his home, he does find a white sedan parked and half-covered with brush next to the house. He sneaks around the house to a window and peeks through the window. What follows is the reason he's sent to prison, where (at another unknown point) he catches and begins to confide in an eel (he's lost all trust in people) which he keeps in a prison fountain with help from a few guards. The guards allow him to keep the eel when his parole officer assumes custody of Takuro upon his release. Takuro begins to reestablish himself by purchasing a rundown barber shop in a tiny coastal town full of interesting characters and soon a mysterious woman enters the town. She brings a mix of disruption, controversy and maybe hope to the residents of the small coastal town and Takuro himself.

To Unagi's benefit (or not), the story is told with an array of styles. It doesn't stray form it's intention to take Takuros plight seriously, but at times, it seemed to go off on a tangent concerning other characters. I believe this was detrimental to bringing Takuro's redemption to fruition. I'm not saying that developing the other characters is a mistake, I'm just saying that in this case it worked against a complete resolution. Hell, for all I know, that could of been the objective all along; for the ending to remain open-ended and unresolved fully. With characters like Akira Emoto's character Tamotsu (Maborosi, Doppelganger) as Takuro's level-headed, wise, father figure-type new friend, could conceivably live on past the ending. The film as a whole has that sort of natural feel to it and an uncanny sense of taking place in two different eras. Add a touch of hilarity now and then to ease the dramatic air and this turns out to be a surprisingly great movie.

Piano Man (1996)

Boy, how do you say "train wreck" in Korean? What began with the makings of a good detective thriller, turned sour on a dime within the first half-hour of the movie. Piano Man begins with detectives ducking in & out of the inky folds of a rain-soaked night. They gather, under a canopy of umbrellas, beside a makeshift grave in a vacant gravel pit to study a horribly disfigured corpse. The detectives argue about who will take the lead in the case and whether or not they should wait for the forensics team, shouting at one another for their general incompetence or for ignoring the benefits a parallel investigation with the other departments will have for the case in hand. (Chaos during an investigation being a reoccurring theme in Korean Detective Thrillers.) When the body arrives at the morgue, the detectives discover that the killer left very little in the way of clues by scalding the face, yanking any dental work, skinning the fingertips and last but not least, stitching the victim's eyelids to it's forehead so they could watch! The investigation seemingly abandons any effort to I.D. the body and turns to a small, elegant, toy player-piano shoved into the chest cavity, where the heart had been ripped out. The killer initiates contact with one Detective Mi-ran (Seung-yeon Lee; eight years before starring in 3-Iron) to, for whatever reason, give her clues to help catch him. She receives that victim's heart wrapped as a gift, with a short note simply signed "PM". Yep, you guessed it; Piano Man. The lead on the case, Detective Yang, joins forces with Mi-ran on the case. But he has to battle his wanna-be detective son Jin-woo's interest, nay fascination with the case, his own alcoholism and a younger crop of detectives that balk at Yang's "old world" techniques.

The best way to describe Piano Man is as a crashing bore. The momentum and intrigue those first few scenes built came crumbling down due to mind-numbingly long scenes of little importance. For example, a 25 minute scene concerning the killer's method of procuring black-market license plates. Whatever momentum it managed to recoup, dissolved away again by similar inane, superfluous story-lines. The most egregious error of the movie is the fact that we're given Piano Man's (Min-su Choi) identity within that first half-hour. We then sit through two long, painful lounge acts from a character that comes from nowhere and goes nowhere, and to top it off, she's accompanied by the killer on piano, but, as I've already pointed out, by now we know he's the killer. I also can't not mention Piano Man's sudden, inexplicable obsession with Billie Holiday, or obvious plot/set similarities with the story of The Phantom Of The Opera. But in the end, the less we knew about his motivations, the better it would have been. Sadly, his all to hackneyed motivations come into play later on in the film, which is yet another lesson in tedium. But even then, as he continues to keep Detective Mi-ran informed of his "work", those motivations are completely abandoned for wildly inconsistent or at the very least, unconvincing ones. Called a "mildly entertaining time-waster" in another review, Piano Man I'll agree, is just that.

Besides the very opening scenes, there's quite honestly very little to be positive about here. Yu's message concerning police ineffectiveness is a competent, well worn one. He also takes a Freudian look at parent-child relationships early on in the film and comes back to it later, which does add a touch of credibility to the movie as a whole. I'd recommend skipping Piano Man altogether and tracking down infinitely better Korean crime-thrillers such as Tell Me Something and Memories Of Murder.

Noriko's Dinner Table (Noriko no Shokutaku, 2005)

Sion Sono's 2½ hour tour-de-force follow-up to Suicide Circle (Club), Noriko's Dinner Table, might be a touch overwrought at times but I think every ounce is completely necessary for what Sono intends to accomplish. Both bracketing and running concurrent the events in Suicide Circle, Dinner Table (a story that nearly defies a written portrayal), is about 17 year–old Noriko Shimabara finding solice from her tired, small town home/existence in Haikyo.com's community forums as poster "Mitsuko", culminating in her running away from home in the midst of an electrical blackout; opportunity arrives in many forms. Noriko meets with forum mod Ueno54, a.k.a Kumiko, and without a place to go, is adopted into her family. As her storyline progresses, Sono then turns to Noriko's sister Yuka Shimabara's attempts to rationalize and discover the whys of Noriko's departure, which leads her to Tokyo as well. Maybe for the same reasons. Sono then turns to their father, then Kumiko for two more facets.

I've been vague not only because it would require spoilers (although I could argue there are no spoilers) but the film is told from different perspectives and gets a bit meta, lending to lengthy connections and reasons/motivations for everything that happens to the girls and their parents. Midnight Eye's review doesn't even attempt to parse the film; Mandiapple gives it a go. I'm doing this over lunch, at work, so time is an issue for me. In the end, I'm thoroughly satisfied with both it's originality and the connections with Suicide Circle. Yet, this is more a film among itself; think Miike's Black Society Trilogy.

I had reservations about the amount of Noriko's (sometimes third-person; unreliable?) voice-over narration, there's a lot, but those were allayed as Sono carried the essential narration into the other characters' contributions. Sono packs a hell of a lot into this film, including a few, not false mind you, semi-conclusions that honestly deepen his story with each progression. I dare say this could be Sono's masterpiece. We'll see.

You wanna know how I got these scars?

Not being a comic book fan has its advantages, but when it came to Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight I've come to think it wouldn't have hurt to have been privy to some back-story. Then again the brilliance of Nolan's Kierkegaardian passage in the Batman Series is in its perceived contemporary tenets; rather, from what I'm told, the movie's deviation from source. I don't find fault here for obvious reasons. Dark Knight comes off a bit skittish, as if a dose of pedestrian might shatter the film's surface tension (it's no No Country), but once again it is comic book material. Where I soaked in every gallon of this movie can be found expressly in the wherewithal of Christian Bale, Heath Ledger (his first film called "Clowning Around"...you have to be kidding me), Aaron Eckhart, Gary Oldman, et al (peripheral characters included; with the possible exception of an ill-cast Maggie Gyllenhaal) insomuch as their respective gravities influence rather than dominate. Kudos to Nolan regular John Papsidera. A cast this good (and scrapped content?) might have warranted a run time closer to 3-hours. I'm thinking the next episode will be Joker-free... How could they...?

Other films have successfully posited the as bad as bad can get themes (J'ai pas sommeil/I Can't Sleep being the first that I thought of; and the aforementioned 'No Country') with a search for peace and/or escape, but none so mainstream, none so forceful (maybe a tad transparent), and none as controversial as The Dark Knight is turning out to be. For laypeople and aficionados alike. And this is where I saw it, btw.