First things first. Why did they let Chara "sing"? Come back Ronnie Biggs, all is forgiven. The whole club/band/creepy gaijin diatribe/instant pop stardom thing was a total waste of time. The movie was doing fine up to that point, but got bogged down in her twee J-pop idol whispering and ridiculous rock clichés. Shunji Iwai may have a great eye, but his ears appear to be in need of a good syringing.
The fractured narrative sometimes made the script seem like it was written in the editing suite, and some of the jerkier cuts jarred badly with their artless futility. The characters struggled to inspire any empathyin the rush to bludgeon us with the message that Japanese society has a racist underbelly. A message effortlessly conveyed in much subtler terms in most of Takashi Miike's movies. The cinematography is sweet enough when it isn't succumbing to 90's MTV crassness. Perhaps I'm just easily bored by kaleidoscopic low shots of blurry knees and shoes. That said, it's worth seeing. There's some interesting observations being made, some flashes of sardonic humour, and the bazooka scene might well have influenced other more radical Japanese directors.
What I see is a film maker struggling to find his identity, and overreaching himself, both in the script, and the direction. His ambition is admirable, but the execution is merely respectable. I'm glad I saw it, but it doesn't compare too well to Lily Chou or Picnic in terms of depth or beauty.
The fractured narrative sometimes made the script seem like it was written in the editing suite, and some of the jerkier cuts jarred badly with their artless futility. The characters struggled to inspire any empathyin the rush to bludgeon us with the message that Japanese society has a racist underbelly. A message effortlessly conveyed in much subtler terms in most of Takashi Miike's movies. The cinematography is sweet enough when it isn't succumbing to 90's MTV crassness. Perhaps I'm just easily bored by kaleidoscopic low shots of blurry knees and shoes. That said, it's worth seeing. There's some interesting observations being made, some flashes of sardonic humour, and the bazooka scene might well have influenced other more radical Japanese directors.
What I see is a film maker struggling to find his identity, and overreaching himself, both in the script, and the direction. His ambition is admirable, but the execution is merely respectable. I'm glad I saw it, but it doesn't compare too well to Lily Chou or Picnic in terms of depth or beauty.