THE WHISPERING STAR

2015 was a big year for director Sion Sono. By far his busiest year of his career so far, the man shot a total of six (that's right, six!) feature films before the year's end. While most of these films were geared towards the mainstream, such as his gangster epic “Shinjuku Swan” and his teenage psychic comedy “The Virgin Psychics”, Sono also found the time to make a low budget sci-fi film entitled “The Whispering Star”. A passion project that he wrote almost twenty years prior, Sono finally decided that now was the time to shoot this film as he would be able to utilise the “no-go” zones of Fukushima (the town destroyed during the March 11, 2011 tsunami), to double as the desolate landscapes of an apocalyptic world where humans are on the brink of extinction.

The story is as low key as you are going to find in a Sion Sono film as it is set in the future where, due to our own faults and carelessness, humans are almost extinct. What is left of the human race is spread out across the galaxy on numerous planets, essentially just living day by day until they finally die. Whilst the invention of immediate teleportation delivery does exist in this reality, and is readily used by most, there are still a few humans that prefer to have their packages hand delivered. To provide this service, female androids are sent across the galaxy in spaceships with the purpose to deliver these packages. The film follows one such android, named Yoko Suzuki (actually all the delivery androids are named this. Our one is number 722), as she is ten years into her delivery run through space, with about eighty odd packages still to deliver. Days, months or even years can pass between deliveries and to pass the time, we witness Yoko doing menial tasks such as cleaning, listening to her past recordings or just the simple process of making a cup of tea. She is all alone with the exception of her computerised pilot flying the ship, that looks like a 1940's tube radio, who may also be on the fritz due to the boredom of their long journey together. After a (long) while, Yoko starts to become curious of the packages that she is delivering and through examining what's inside them and contemplating why they mean so much to the recipients, she starts to become aware of just what it means to be human.

This really is an atypical film from Sion Sono, as it is such a quiet little drama, to the point that you could almost argue that nothing happens throughout the whole film. While this is not actually true, the drama of the film is so minimalist, and the pace so slow, that I can not see “The Whispering Star” ever finding a large audience. Do not get me wrong, this is not a bad film, it is just an incredibly minor one. In fact there is a lot of good within it, not least of all its stunning black and white photography from cinematographer Hideo Yamamoto. It is obvious that the film was shot on a very low budget but I think to combat that Sono and Yamamoto have decided to make the shots as beautiful and classical as possible. I also loved the “home-made” quality of the effects and the ship itself. The fact that the onboard computer is an old radio is brilliant and I got a kick out of seeing that Yoko was powered by AA batteries. Also the old style kitchen, taps and cupboards, not to mention that the ship looks like an old cottage with some engines attached to it; it gave the film its own little identity.

 Yoko Suzuki is played by the director's muse and wife, Megumi Kagurazaka, and does so in such a quiet and subtle manner. In fact to prove this is unlike any of the director's previous film, Kagurazaka actually underplays the role to nice effect. Her presence gives the film a calm atmosphere, which actually makes it easier to go with the film and its snails pace. I must admit though, I wasn't exactly sure what Sono was trying to say with this film. There were moments or ideas that I liked such as the fact that by having a teleportation device, it made the world feel flat. To me this is how I feel about the internet these days and how easily available things are to us, to the point it feels like you can touch it immediately. The waiting for something or the searching for something, the anticipation, is often more exciting than the receiving itself and this is being taken away from us more and more each day. I also liked the notion that the act of receiving a package is like conformation that there is someone out there thinking of that person, and it is this notion that I think attracts the android.

Other than these points, I found little to invest in with this film. The film moves too slowly, with not enough “action” to sustain it's 100 minute running time. I didn't understand why everyone whispered in the film, and there where things that I just didn't think worked well at all. While I appreciated the fact that for the most part there was no score, there is a moment in the film when the images suddenly become colour and music just swells; it is obviously a big moment for Sono but I could find no point at all for it. It seemed so odd and just didn't work. Also while using the devastation of Fukushima as a post-apocalyptic landscape may have sounded like a good idea, to me, I always felt like I was in Japan, not some strange part of the galaxy. Constant Japanese signs and a window advertising Visa just ruined the illusion for me. The biggest thing that didn't work for me though was the use of time in the film. There are constant title cards interrupting the images with the days of the week on them. I guess this is to symbolise that time moves differently in space, but when a week goes past while Yoko makes herself tea, it then feels odd when we go through a whole large scene with her and we find out only a day has past. Then out of the blue, a title card will come up stating “One Year Later”........I found it frustrating and thought it added little to the film and would have been better off not in the film.

While I certainly respect that Sion Sono made this little film, especially at the height of his popularity, and there are elements of it that I liked, I wouldn't say that this was a film I enjoyed. That said, I am glad that I saw “The Whispering Star”, and a different side to Sono's work. Restraint is the name of the game here, but I'm just not sure those who enjoy the excesses of Sono's usual style will find much to like here, in fact I think that it may struggle to find an audience at all.

2.5 Stars.

THE BAR

In the past couple of weeks I have been lucky enough to cross off two titles from my most anticipated films of 2017 list, thanks to the local French and Spanish film festivals that have played here in Melbourne. The French Film Festival provided me the opportunity to see Kiyoshi Kurosawa's “Daguerrotype”, whilst just the other night at the Spanish Film Festival I saw Alex de la Iglesia's “The Bar”.

Its a normal morning in a city on the outskirts of Madrid. People go about their daily business like any other day. A group of strangers, unconnected in any way other than in their need to find food or drink at this time of the day, find themselves together in a local food bar. Everything is regular, with the sound of constant conversation heard throughout the place, and no one inside this bar has any idea that this day is going to be anything but normal. A patron pays his bill, stands to leave and exits onto the street outside, where he is immediately gunned down by a single shot from a sniper, the sound echoing throughout the air. Within seconds the streets outside are abandoned and the patrons inside, terrified. When another patron decides to bring the bleeding and presumed dead man back inside on the off chance that they can still help him, he too suffers the same fate of the man he was trying to save. With two dead men now at the base of the front door, it becomes immediately apparent to those still inside that not only are they now trapped in this bar, but they are at the centre of something huge, something that in these moments of madness, they have no chance of understanding. However extreme fear and self preservation does a funny thing to a person and it isn't long before everyone turns on one another, blaming or accusing them for the situation they now find themselves in. Through all the bicker and arguments, suddenly someone realises that the two bodies have disappeared. Where could they have gone, who took them and just what the hell is going on here??

As long and as colourful as that synopsis is, believe it or not, that is only the first ten minutes of “The Bar”, and from here on, the film takes many twists and turns into unexpected terrorities and tonal changes that I wont ruin here. For those though that do like their labels, I would describe “The Bar” as a black comedy/thriller with brief flourishes of horror. Alex de la Iglesia and his regular co-writer Jorge Guerricaechevarria have come up with an exciting scenario and have taken it in bold and unexpected directions that give the pair a chance to critique current societal values and the way we, as a race, no longer look out for one another, rather we will do anything to survive even at the expense of another.

De la Iglesia has filled the bar with archetypal representations to create a microcosm of modern society, but is smart enough to give them enough colour and character to make it less obvious that this is what he is doing. The characters in the bar consist of a bible quoting homeless man, a gambling addicted loner, an ex-cop, a lingerie salesman, an advertising executive who amusingly also looks like a stereotypical Muslim, a gorgeous woman, an older cranky woman who owns and runs the bar and her long time male worker. They are an interesting and fun mix of people that de la Iglesia is able to define quickly and make them all memorable, by giving each character their moment. Through these characters he is able to hold a very sad mirror towards our world as it is today, especially in regards to how paranoid and scared we all are, where every where we look, we now see a threat , no matter how placid an object or person may actually be. It is a case of suspect or accuse first, ask questions later. De la Iglesia, in his very un-PC way has a ball with this concept, creating tension over a lingerie filled briefcase, and making fun of the fact that the guy with the Muslim like beard must be the most suspicious character, at least at the start.

Whilst Blanca Suarez, is undoubtedly the star of “The Bar” and is incredibly good in her role of Elena, the person who steals the film from right under her nose is Jaime Ordonez, who plays the doomsday spouting homeless man Israel. His character is grotesque but Ordonez commits and goes for it one hundred percent, making every moment with this madman brilliant, and at times, chilling. He is unrecognisable in the role, donning disgusting long matted hair and with a pair of chipped and very unclean teeth; from a visual standpoint he is someone you want to look away from, but the brilliance of Ordonez's performance means that you sit there transfixed to every moment he is on screen. In saying all that, I should point out that everyone gives great performances here, and importantly for an ensemble cast, they all compliment each other perfectly with no one trying to out do anyone else. It was also great to see Alex de la Iglesia working with Terele Pavez yet again, this time in the role of Amparo, the bitchy and always cranky owner of the bar. One recurring moment that I did love was all the male characters attempting to comfort Elena, for the simple fact she is gorgeous and they just want to touch her. It is amusing because a lot of the time de la Iglesia doesn't make a big scene of it, with it happening in the background or even sometimes out of focus.

Like all films by Alex de la Iglesia, “The Bar” moves at a breakneck pace. The first ten minutes are like a bullet train, where we meet the characters, see the situation they are in and then watching them panic and react. By the end of the sequence, you feel exhausted and it felt like it was going to be impossible to stay with the film if the entirety of it moved at this pace. Thankfully though, the film slows down for a bit and gives you and it, time to breathe, before taking off yet again. My biggest criticism of de la Iglesia and his films are that he is so imaginative that he tends to put too much into them, and because of this I usually enjoy his films that are a little more controlled and not as outrageous. That is a ridiculous thing to say because all of Alex de la Iglesia's films are insane; no one makes films like he does, but I tend to prefer those that are a little pared back which I'm happy to say “The Bar” is. Whilst it isn't a long film at all, due to the fast pace of the film and the exhaustion it creates by trying to keep up with it, it does feel longer than it is. I will say that the third act, which takes place in the sewers down below the bar, does outstay its welcome because it becomes a little repetitive by this stage, but for mine this is really the only fault with the film.

Overall, with “The Bar” Alex de la Iglesia has created another one of his excellent black comedies, this time all wrapped up in a thriller too. While the film is loaded full of the darkest comedy that would make most PC viewers blush, it is also one that is not without a social conscience. Unfortunately because the film has a mystery element to it, there are elements of the film that I cannot talk about in my review, especially while the film is still so new, so I apologise if this review seem a little anaemic. After “My Big Night” and now “The Bar”, it appears that de la Iglesia is on a bit of a roll again. Thankfully he has another film due out later in the year, that he has already shot; the remake of the recent Italian film “Perfect Strangers”. Hopefully he keeps his streak going, but either way, “The Bar” ranks right up there with his best and is one that has a lot of re-watch value.

3.5 Stars.

DAGUERROTYPE

The latest film from Japanese director Kiyoshi Kurosawa, also boasts the fact that it is one of my top seven most anticipated films of 2017. The main reason for this is because this is the first time that Kurosawa has made a film outside of his native Japan and spoken in a language different to his own. As I have mentioned previously, I am always interested to see if a filmmaker can successfully transpose his ideas and visual style when working in a country they are unfamiliar with. Very recently we saw Paul Verhoeven have great success with “Elle”, his first film shot in French, and now it is Kiyoshi Kurosawa's turn as “Daguerrotype” is also a French film, but will he have the same success as his Dutch counterpart? Let's take a look, shall we?

“Daguerrotype” is about a young man, named Jean, who finds employment as a photographer's assistant. What makes this unique though is the photographer, Stephane, makes photographic images via the archaic technique known as daguerreotype photography which is where an image is chemically transferred to a silver plate. As beautiful as the results end up being, the process also causes the model severe discomfort as they are forced to sit still for increased amounts of time. Struggling to come to terms with his wife's recent suicide, Stephane has given up his more lucrative fashion shoots as he becomes more and more obsessed with creating the perfect daguerreotype, with his daughter Marie as the model. Jean is immediately entranced by the beautiful Marie, and when the two plan to leave the chateau, where they are residing together with Stephane, to make a life together, it is the catalyst to an event that will see these three people's lives forever changed.

When “Daguerrotype” first started screening during its festival run, it was greeted with a luke-warm response. While the director himself described the film as a horror film, most reviews for it stated that the film moved at a snail's pace, with very little of the horror promised. Normally I would be a little disheartened by this, but I was still very much spellbound by the film's initial poster (see above) and the fact that even though this was a French film, from the images in the trailer, it was no doubt first and foremost a Kiyoshi Kurosawa film which made me excited. The added fact that until this film I knew nothing about daguerreotype photography, that I ended up finding myself anticipating the film more and more. Thankfully I found out about a screening of the film at the local “French Film Festival” here in Melbourne and I rushed out to see it.

Right from the get-go I was mesmerised by “Daguerrotype”. It had a slow, deliberate build up and it had me immediately hooked. While it is true that the film is light on the horror, I was surprised that the film was much more of a thriller than I was expecting which delighted me. In fact for around two thirds of the film, I felt like I was watching a new classic from Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Unfortunately the film peaks far too early, with a truly stunning suspense sequence that stands tall as some of the greatest work Kurosawa has ever put on film. However from this sequence on, the film gradually gets sillier and sillier until it ends on an embarrassing whimper which is so sad, compared to all the greatness that came before it. In the end, “Daguerrotype” is a film that has great parts, but the sum of these parts does not add up to a great movie.

When it comes to the visual style of a Kiyoshi Kurosawa film, I always find it hard to describe because they always come across as very clean and uncomplicated, but at the same time his films have such a distinct look that its always obvious when Kurosawa is the author of a film. As I mentioned earlier, the trailer gave a great indication that he was able to transpose his visual style to this French film, even though he was unable to work with his regular cinematographer Akiko Ashizawa. Here he is paired with Alexis Kavyrchine, and the two together are able to create images consistent with those of past Kurosawa features while at the same time doing something completely new than anything he has done before. I think the main reason for this is the location of the film and how different the French countryside is compared to the hustle and bustle of city life in Japan. Here Kurosawa gets to play with locations dripping in gothic atmosphere as opposed to the sleek, shiny surfaces of modern Tokyo and it has seemed to really inspire this talented director. In both a recent documentary on Hitchcock and in an interview focusing on himself, Kurosawa has claimed how he is a student of Alfred Hitchcock and that he believes he is inspired or influenced more by him than any other director. Hearing these comments surprised me because although they both worked regularly in the same thriller genre, I saw little comparison between the two. However I can authoritatively state that “Daguerrotype” is a total homage to the “Master of Suspense”. For the first time I can actively see Kurosawa aping Hitchcock's visual style and doing it with aplomb. The aforementioned suspense sequence is so outstandingly done and unlike anything Kurosawa has done previous but he is able to continually ratchet up the suspense using camera movements and editing similar to Hitch without ever outright stealing one of his scenes. I was so impressed by this sequence, and also so sad when what comes after it is so disappointing. As well as this impressive sequence, the film has a number of gorgeous images, most involving either the ghost or Marie, when she is posing for her father. Probably the single most beautiful image in the film is of the life sized daguerreotype of Marie, clothed in a period blue dress, with water cascading down the silver plate (see below; although the still does not do the moving image justice). No surprises that Kurosawa's is at his strongest when focusing on scenes involving the ghost. Rather than the usual Hollywood way of using a ghost to give a jolt or a scare, Kurosawa continues to use the spectres to create an uneasy atmosphere, continually building up suspense, until he gives you that final scare.

Aside from the visual side of the film, Kiyoshi Kurosawa has teamed up with composer Gregoire Hetzel to create a score that is immediately recognisable as an homage to Bernhard Herrmann. Similar to Kurosawa himself, Hetzel has been able to create music that although very similar to Herrmann's output whilst working with Hitchcock, is never an outright steal. He comes up with some beautifully haunting melodies when dealing with the love story, as well as some fantastic and aggressive notes when the film needs to ratchet up the suspense, very similar to what is done in Hitchcock's “Vertigo”. For mine, this is the best use of music I have heard yet in a Kiyoshi Kurosawa film, and even though I am not a huge fan of music, I immediately tracked down and bought a copy of the soundtrack for this film, I was that impressed by it.

In terms of the film's negatives, I was never totally thrilled by any of the performances. Tahar Rahim as Jean, has the biggest character arc and has two distinct sides to his personality, but he failed to define them satisfactorily; in fact the performance as a whole is rather flat, particularly in the second half of the film when Jean's true nature is exposed. While Constance Rousseau fits the bill when it comes to the beauty of her character, sadly she has an underwritten role and really has little to do but stand and look pretty. My favourite performance in the film was by Olivier Gourmet who plays Stephane. He is a complex character; very selfish in what he wants and how he achieves these wants, while at the same time being a tragic character as he is haunted, both figuratively and literally, by the ghosts of his past and the suicide of his wife. Stephane is someone who has never come to terms with his grief, nor with his involvement in his wife's suicide, to the point that he is no longer operating in a normal sane state. Gourmet does a great job of showing the pain this guy is going through, whilst at the same time exposing just how mean and manipulative he can be to get what he wants.

The biggest disappointment of “Daguerrotype” though is the narrative and where the film actually goes with the story. As I mentioned above, I was enthralled with the film for the opening two thirds of it. It was a slowly paced story dealing with grief, greed, death and dealing with the past and it was all wrapped up in a beautiful ghost story, with a romance developing on the side. It then reaches the most exquisite suspense scene, the greatest in the film, and then sadly just becomes very silly after that. No longer is daguerreotype photography needed in the plot, so it is suddenly just ignored, while the rest of the film follows a path that has been trodden many times before. The sad part is that it is all so obvious what is going on, and yet Kurosawa seems to believe that he has tricked his audience and thus strings us along for about half an hour too long with scenes, which after the predictable reveal is shown, that are totally pointless to the film or story. In fact when the credits of the film started, an audible groan was let out by a large number of the audience I was in. It was a total let down, after how great the earlier parts of the film were. For the second film in a row, this and “Creepy” (which interestingly was shot after “Daguerrotype” but released before it), Kiyoshi Kurosawa has made a film that I thought was to become an instant classic, only to totally mess up the ending.

Overall, I am torn over my viewing of Kiyoshi Kurosawa's “Daguerrotype”. It is a film that when it is good, it is totally amazing and some of the best work done yet by this talented Japanese director, but equally, when it is bad, it is almost embarrassing. Parts of the film; the visual style, music, editing and suspense are fantastic, but the sum of these parts do not add up to a totally successful film. The film is uneven, but for the majority of the film I had a great time with it; it just saddens me that the film did not end up becoming the masterpiece I felt it was going to be whilst I was watching it.

3.5 Stars.