Disney’s Han Solo spin-off, Solo: A Star Wars Story (obviously, no relation to this film), will focus on Solo’s days before he linked up with the rebel alliance, as well as his early adventures with Chewbacca and Lando Calrissian.
Solo: A Star Wars Story was co-directed by Phil Lord and Christopher Miller (duo behind The Lego Movie), but 6 months into production, Kathleen Kennedy, president of Lucasfilm, fired the directing duo over “creative differences.” In turn, Kennedy nabbed high profile director Ron Howard (Apollo 13) to complete the film.
Solo: A Star Wars Story (not to be confused with this film) is written by Lawrence Kasdan (Star Wars: Episode V-VII) and Jon Kasdan (In the Land of Women).
Alden Ehrenreich (Hail, Caesar!) is playing the young, sarcastic, reckless smuggler made famous by Harrison Ford. Donald Glover (The Martian) is portraying a young Lando Calrissian, previously played by Billy Dee Williams in The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Additional cast members include Emilia Clarke (Game of Thrones), Woody Harrelson (Natural Born Killers), Thandie Newton (Mission: Impossible 2), Phoebe Waller-Bridge (Man Up) and Joonas Suotamo.
Despite its turbulence, Solo: A Star Wars Story still has a scheduled release for May 25th, 2018. Watch the film’s Newest Trailer below:
Director: Huh Jung Cast: Yum Jung-Ah, Park Hyuk-Kwon, Shin Rin-Ah, Heo Jin, Lee Joon-Hyuk, Kil Hae-Yeon, Lee Yool, Noh Susanna, Lim Jong-Yun, Jung Ji-Hoon, Hwang Jae-Won Running Time: 100 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Director and screenwriter Huh Jung made a strong impression with his 2013 debut Hide and Seek (which received a Chinese remake of the same name), a claustrophobic horror that posed the question – what if someone else was living in your property other than you? Despite its best intentions though, it was Jung’s own script that tripped him up, derailing the whole movie with a mid-way twist that rendered much of the promise on show obsolete. Regardless of its weaknesses though, Hide and Seek marked Jung as a director to keep an eye on, and in 2017 he returns to the screen with his sophomore feature The Mimic.
Jung is once again directing from his own script, for a tale which in many ways is a throwback to the more traditional horror tales that populated Korea’s horror movie scene in the 60’s and 70’s. The literal translation of the title is Jang Mountain Tiger, and much like Kim Ji-woon did with A Tale of Two Sisters, Huh’s latest provides a contemporary take on a Korean folk tale, this time one about a cave dwelling tiger spirit that’s able to mimic the voices of the dead. It’s not the first time for a cave dwelling spirit to be explored in recent Korean horror, with 2015’s abysmal The Chosen: Forbidden Cave utilising a similar premise, only replacing a tiger with a snake.
However like so many horror and supernatural outings of late, the most obvious influence in parts of The Mimic is Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing. Much like OldBoy saw the hammer become an omnipresent prop in so many Korean thrillers throughout the 00’s, so The Wailing is responsible for the almost guaranteed appearance of a shaman ritual in any horror flick for the foreseeable future. In the case of The Mimic though the trope is used effectively, and considering it’s a part of the original folk tale on which the story is based, is also entirely forgivable. The biggest concern going into Jung’s latest then wasn’t how much it would look to replicate The Wailing, but rather if he’d learnt the lessons from his debut feature.
The plot of The Mimic sees a husband and wife relocate from the city to the countryside, with their young daughter and husband’s mother, who suffers from dementia, in tow. We learn that some years ago their youngest son went missing, and although it’s never openly stated, it soon becomes clear that the mother has been clinging on to the hope of him still being found. The process of settling into their new surroundings is abruptly disturbed by the discovery of a body, dumped behind a bricked up entrance to a cave in the woods, and the simultaneous appearance of a mysteriously quiet little girl. When the little girl arrives on the families doorstep, the mother decides to take her in for the night until they can visit the authorities in the morning, however when she begins mimicking the voice of their own daughter, it soon triggers a series of spooky events.
While the plot is certainly nothing new, with the grieving mother escaping to a small town to start afresh being done plenty of times before (perhaps most stunningly in Lee Chang-dong’s Secret Sunshine), here the supernatural element works in its favour to set The Mimic apart. It also helps that, much like Hide and Seek, Jung has once again enlisted a top drawer cast to anchor his tale. In the lead as the mother is Yum Jung-ah, a familiar face during the Korea horror genres heyday in the early 00’s, with roles in Tell Me Something, H, A Tale of Two Sisters, and Park Chan-wook’s Monster, the Korean segment in the 2004 Asian horror-omnibus Three.
Playing her husband is Park Hyuk-kwon, recently seen in supporting roles in the likes of A Taxi Driver and Tunnel, and the daughters shoes are filled by Shin Rin-ah, who played the younger version of Seolhyun’s character in Memoir of a Murderer. Perhaps most ironic, is the inclusion of Her Jin as the mother, in a role not entirely dissimilar to the one she played in The Wailing. Despite the family unit being made up of four, the narrative gradually comes to focus on the relationship between Jung-ah and the mysterious little girl, played by relative newcomer Bang Yoo-seol. Much of The Mimic’s mid-section rests on Yoo-seol’s shoulders, as her presence (and increasingly extended stay in the family household) is used to crank up the tension, rather than the use of cheap jump scares or creeping shadows.
This proves to be both effective and problematic. Once Yoo-seol does start talking, she insists her name is the same as their own daughter, and also replicates her voice. For the audience it delivers the expected shivers, however Jung-ah seems to accept the fact as coincidence that this mysterious child shares the same name as her own daughter, and brushes off Hyuk-kwon’s claims that she sounds the same by saying “all children sound the same that age.” Despite sharing the same household, so much time is dedicated to Jung-ah and Yoo-seol’s relationship that the rest of the family begin to feel like peripheral characters, with Rin-ah in particular receiving short thrift.
Thankfully, we don’t stay in spooky-child-in-the-house territory for the duration, and while the use of (as expected with the nature of the story) audio rather than visuals to create a sense of terror, this is after all the tale of a white haired tiger spirit that dwells in a mountain cave. To his credit, Jung shows he’s not afraid to embrace the more visceral elements of the tale, with a finale that takes place in said cave against a shaman possessed by the tiger spirit, played with an enthusiastic vigour by Lee Joon-hyuk (RV: Resurrected Victims). The darkness of the cave plays its part to keep the audience on the edge of its seat, and there’s some neat visual tricks played with the use of mirrors. It’s hard to imagine a scenario done more in the horror genre than the helpless female being stalked by a murderous force of evil, but Jung still gets some mileage out of it.
Not everything is perfect with The Mimic though, and it’s largely to do with Jung’s treatment of the supporting characters. There are several instances when characters appear as a thinly guised plot device, to other instances when there seems to be no apparent purpose for them to be in the narrative whatsoever. An example of the former is that of an elderly neighbour, who spends any scene she appears in staring at the family from a distance, until she finally makes contact with Jung-ah, and gives her/the audience an exposition dump as to who the girl is and her connection to the cave. She then disappears from the narrative, having dispensed the required information. Another is that of a newly arrived in town police offer, who seems to be investigating the little girl and the cave, but by the ending has been completely forgotten about.
Similar to the issues found in Hide and Seek, Jung’s script also falters during the final moments, in what seems to be a case of knowing where it wants to be, but not quite having the dialogue to sell the decisions the characters make in a believable manner. One of the biggest hopes I’d held for The Mimic was that such instances would be remedied, given the 4 years that have passed since his debut, however it appears that the messy ending could be an inherent problem for Jung if what we see here is anything to go by.
With that being said, The Mimic is a much more consistent ride than Hide and Seek. Staying true to its folk tale origins throughout, it effectively builds a sense of foreboding, and throws in at least one jump out of your seat moment. For horror fans, it’ll no doubt be a mildly entertaining diversion, and for fans of Yum Jung-ah, it’s great to see her headlining a horror movie after 15 years spent dabbling in other genres. The Korean horror genre has been going through a drought for a long time, and while Jung’s latest isn’t going to be the movie to revive it, the best I can say is that it certainly doesn’t contribute to it.
Today’s Deal on Fire is the Blu-ray for Rigor Mortis, directed by Juno Mak (Dream Home).
This atmospheric horror film from Hong Kong revolves around a public housing tenement that’s plunged into a dark storm of supernatural chaos.
Rigor Mortis is a nod to the Mr. Vampire series. In fact, it features many actors from that classic title: Chin Siu-ho, Anthony Chan, Billy Lau and Richard Ng. The film also stars Chin Siu-ho, Anthony Chan, Kara Hui, Lo Hoi-pang and Paw Hee-ching.
On June 26th, 2018, Funimation will be releasing the Blu-ray & DVD Combo for Noboru Iguchi’s Prison School, a live-action series based on the manga by Akira Hiramoto.
When the prestigious all-girls Hachimitsu Private Academy becomes co-ed, five young men are the first males to attend. But the girls aren’t so accepting of their new classmates. After the boys get caught peeping, The Underground Student Council enforces an absurd punishment. For a month, the boys must live within the school’s very own penal system while enduring long, hard, and humiliating tasks.
Prison School stars Taishi Nakagawa (Kids on the Slope), Hirona Yamazaki (As the Gods Will), Masato Yano (April Fools), Tokio Emoto (Norwegian Wood) and Daiki Miyagi (Ju-on: The Beginning of the End).
If you’re a fan of Park Chan-wook (Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance) and Na Hong-jin (Chaser), you’re going to want to look into Wrath of Silence, a new thriller from award-winning writer/director Yukun Xin (Distance).
Zhang Baomin (Song Yang, Final Master) is a miner who works far from home because of some disputes he had with the townsfolk years ago, whilst his wife and son remain near the mountains running a small sheep farm. One day, Baomin learns that his son Lei hasn’t come back from shepherding for two days. He goes back to find his son. His appearance back in town makes people anxious. Searching for his son, Baomin heads for the rough and dangerous mountains, but the resentment and distrust of the townsfolk leads them to turn a blind eye to the reality of a missing child, and the corruption and danger permeating their lives.
The film also stars Wu Jiang (Shock Wave), Wenkang Yuan (The Golden Era) and Zhuo Tan (Cock and Bull).
Wrath of Silence is finally getting a domestic release on April 4, 2018. Considering the buzz its making in festival circuits, a U.S. release is inevitable, so hang tight! Check out the Trailer below:
Well Go USA will be releasing the Blu-ray & DVD for Monkey King 3 on May 15, 2018.
The Monkey King (Aaron Kwok) is at it for a 3rd time in The Monkey King 3: Kingdom of Women (aka The Monkey King 3: Land of Beauty), once again directed by Soi Cheang Pou Soi’s (SPL 2, The Monkey King, The Monkey King 2).
Director: Yang Shih-Ching Cast: Polly Shang-Kuan, Chan Wai-Lau, Chan Bo-Leung, To Wai Wo, Lenny Marlina, To Man-Bo, Chan Chue Running Time: 85 min.
By Paul Bramhall
There’s something undeniably alluring about stumbling across obscure slices of kung fu cinema from the past, and The Ghostly Face could easily be categorized as one such example. In the 1970’s the practice of Hong Kong and Taiwan filming (or in many cases co-producing) with their South East Asian neighbours was already a common one. Movies like the Angela Mao vehicle The Tournament and Chang Cheh’s Duel of Fists both used Thailand as their backdrop, while productions such as the Yasuaki Kurata actioner The Golden Triangle and Bruceploitationer Bruce the Super Hero utilised the Philippines.
Much less common though, was for crews to venture as far south as Indonesia. While today names like Iko Uwais and Yayan Ruhian have placed Indonesia firmly on the map for action cinema, 45 years ago that certainly wasn’t the case. In fact, the only other example I can recall of Indonesia being featured as a backdrop for some 70’s martial arts action is the rare Bobby Kim movie Flying Tiger. However even before then, perhaps the first example of a Taiwan-Indonesia co-production can be considered to be The Ghostly Face, a 1973 tale of vengeance based on a popular Indonesia comic book titled Panji the Skull Face. Much like the superheroes found in western comics, the heroic main character would be adapted several times over the years, appearing in another local production in the 1980’s, and getting his own TV series in the 1990’s.
However in this case, director Yang Shih-Ching decides to do the reverse of what Chang Cheh pulled in Golden Swallow, pushing the heroic title character to the sidelines, and instead making the main protagonist a vengeance filled daughter in the form of Polly Shang-Kuan. One of the most recognizable faces of the 70’s Taiwanese kung fu cinema scene, Shang-Kuan is always a joy to watch, even when she’s fighting giant lobsters (check out The Zodiac Fighters). After debuting in King Hu’s seminal Dragon Inn in 1967, in the 6 years spanning 1973 – 1978, on top of starring in The Ghostly Face she’d headline another 40 kung fu flicks, displaying a work ethic few other femme fatales could match.
The Ghostly Face would be the last time she’d work with Shih-Ching, having collaborated previously on The Grand Passion (1970) and A Girl Fighter (1972), all of which also shared the common denominator of having the action choreographed by Poon Yiu-Kwan. With over 20 movies under his belt as action director by the time of The Ghostly Face, including King Hu’s A Touch of Zen, it’s easy to surmise that Yiu-Kwan was most at home choreographing the entertaining sword clangers that dominated the Taiwan movie scene in the 70’s.
The biggest draw of The Ghostly Face though is the Bali location, which as far as I’m aware is the first and only time a martial arts movie has been filmed there (and a whole 8 years before the infamous Mystics in Bali!). The island of Bali has its own unique culture, and various aspects of it are featured throughout. While for some these travelogue sequences will likely be tiresome, credit has to be given for the way they’re at least attempted to be integrated into the plot (has there ever been a kung-fu movie shot in Bangkok that doesn’t feature pointlessly lingering shots of The Grand Palace and Democracy Monument!?). These dialogue free scenes include a funeral procession along the beach for Shang-Kuan’s father, which contains the striking visual of her knelt down in the sand, as a towering funeral pyre burns to the ground, and later on a traditional Balinese play.
Shang-Kuan herself wears traditional Balinese attire, sporting a colourful sash and a flower adorned headband while she dishes out the pain to various bandits, which she does frequently. I’ve always loved the no-nonsense characters she usually plays, and here is no exception. When confronted by one bandit she asks him what he wants, to which he replies “I want to make love to you.” Suddenly surrounded by a small army, the resulting melee sees several of them end up with flower darts lodged in their eyes, one has his throat punctured by her fingers, before the original guy tries to escape, only to end up with his own sword lodged in his back. Indeed, this is not a girl to be messed with.
The plot itself involves Shang-Kuan seeking revenge on The Ghostly Mask, who she believes killed her father to steal his precious sword. It’s hardly a spoiler to say that the actual killer wasn’t the real Ghostly Mask, but it’d be no fun if she realised that straight away. The real man behind the mask is Indonesian actor Deddy Sutomo, a popular face of many 70’s Indonesian movies, interestingly he’s still active today. He can be found in The Raid 2, playing the floppy hat wearing official who persuades Iko Uwais to go undercover, which I never would have guessed. The Ghostly Mask itself definitely falls on the more curious side of heroic disguises. Essentially a mask that looks like a decomposing buck faced corpse, once seen it’s not easily forgotten, and I daresay the vampire from Sammo Hung’s Encounters of the Spooky Kind could well be a distant cousin.
Despite being the hero of the tale though, as previously mentioned, Shih-Ching gives him short thrift, with the real Ghostly Face not even making an appearance until 45 minutes in of a runtime that stretches just past 80. Thankfully though, when you have the burning intensity of an actress like Polly Shang-Kuan as your lead, this is entirely forgivable. The truth about The Ghostly Face is eventually revealed through her interactions with a villager, who she saves from a gang of pirates. It’s another satisfying one versus many skirmish, which at one point has Shang-Kuan pin a pirates hand to the deck by driving a sword through it. It’s worth noting that the villager is played by Indonesian actress Lenny Marlina, and not by Filipino actress (and Bruceploitation regular) Elizabeth Oropesa as stated in the Hong Kong Movie Database (who didn’t make her debut until 1975).
Events eventually culminate in a finale that sees Shang-Kuan, Sutomo, and another mysterious actress who appears out of nowhere face off against the bad guys, played by Chan Wai-Lau and Chan Bo-Leung (no relation). The appearance of the other actress, who’s only seen fleetingly in the opening scene, is likely indicative that somewhere in the depths of cinema obscurity, there could be a different Indonesian cut of The Ghostly Face, with more scenes of both the mystery actress and Sutomo. This practice was certainly common on many Hong Kong and Taiwan co-productions with Korea, with Don Wong Tao once recalling in an interview how, after the Chinese crew wrapped up filming, the Korean crew would stick around and film their own version with local actors. So it doesn’t seem outside the realms of possibility for it to also be the case here.
It’s an entertaining finish, made even more so by the revelation that perhaps Shang-Kuan’s character isn’t the sharpest tool in the box. Despite fighting another Ghostly Face imposter earlier on, inexplicably she still seems to believe Sutomo is her father’s killer, so he spends half the fight battling against the real bad guys, while also having to defend himself from Shang-Kuan’s fists and feet. In true old-school style though, the mystery actress declares in the middle of the brawl that Sutomo really is a good guy, which Shang-Kuan accepts no questions asked, leading to them finally teaming up to deliver violent retribution against the sword stealing crooks.
Half Bali travelogue, half Polly Shang-Kuan rampaging through hordes of human punching bags, The Ghostly Face may be far from perfect, but it’s so brief that it’s rarely anything other than entertaining. Fans of Shang-Kuan will find plenty to enjoy, and for the male population at least, it serves as a warning that if a woman asks what you want, be careful how you answer.
Thousands of movies get released every year in Asia, but only a few dozens of them get the popularity and recognition they deserve. Today we look back and honour some of the most influential Asian movies in order to shine a spotlight on the best movies that come from the East.
Action Movies:
Asian action and crime movies differ from Western-made movies. Asian action movies have a real and gritty feel to them, relying more on story and characters than on special effects. Action and crime movies became widely popular in Asia during the 80’s.
The Ip Man – The Ip Man franchise is regarded as one of the best action movie franchises not only in Japan but in the entire world. It is an action movie that you just can’t see from a Hollywood studio. Rich in character and overwhelmingly exciting, The Ip Man is one of the best in the game.
The Man from Nowhere – Coming from South Korea, this fast-paced, well choreographed and the convincing movie is a perfect crime-action movie example and one you should definitely have in your movie library.
The Raid – No self-respecting action movie lover should pass on this Indonesian masterpiece. The movie follows Rama, a rookie commando on a team tasked with bringing down a brutal mob boss. This movie will keep you on the edge of your seat and draw you in with bloody and relentless action fro the moment it gets going.
War Movies:
War movies that have come out of Asian cinematography all have a heavy cultural tone. Although western cinematography has produced some exquisite war movies, the Asian movie scene also has a few equally heavy, important and tragic movies that are considered masterpieces of the seventh art.
For Those We Love – seen by many as a controversial and propaganda oriented movie, For Those We Love is a tragic war movie telling the story of a group of kamikaze pilots on their journey from the moment their recruitment begins up to their final moments
Yamato – The Yamato battleship is the biggest Japanese battleship from World War II. The movie of the same name talks about the technological and military achievement of the ship through a story of sacrifice, camaraderie and emotion.
Tae Guk Gi – Set in the events of the Korean War, it is a powerful movie about the horrors and tragedies this senseless conflict brought.
Gambling Movies:
The countries of Asia, especially from the Honk Kong cinema scene, have a knack for making action-packed and entertaining gambling movies. No matter if you’re a fan of gambling action movies, the combination of these two genres make Asian gambling movies a must-watch for every movie enthusiast.
God of Gamblers – This Hong Kong gambling movie not only does the action parts excellently but also combines elements of comedy and drama to create the ultimate big-screen adventure. It is one of the most popular gambling movies in the entire world and a movie that spawned a franchise that numbers six different spin-offs and sequels.
The Connan – Ridding the popularity of gambling movies, The Conan is an action-comedy that follows a simple movie pattern while introducing a number of colourful an in-depth characters.
From Vegas to Macau – This movie is sort of a reboot and a homage of the God of Gamblers original. Starring acclaimed Hollywood actors like Chow Yun-fat, it explores some interesting topics that were left open by the original.
Today’s Deal on Fire is the Blu-ray for The Adventurers (read our review). The film is a reworking of John Woo’s Once a Thief,the 1991 Hong Kong classic about art thieves, famously played by Chow Yun Fat, Cherie Chung and Leslie Cheung.
After his recent release from prison, infamous thief Cheung Tan (Lau) plots a heist with his partners Xiao Bao (Yang) and Ye Hong (Qi) to steal precious jewels in Europe, while French detective Pierre (Reno), who has been hot on Cheung’s trails for many years, must capture this gang of thieves on one draft.
Director: Choo Chang-min Writer: Jung Yoo-Jung Cast: Ryoo Seung-Ryong, Jang Dong-Gun, Song Sae-Byeok, Ko Gyung-Pyo, Moon Jeong-Hee Running Time: 123 min.
By Paul Bramhall
The theme of a parent seeking to avenge a wrong doing against their child has been one that’s gained plenty of mileage since the beginning of the Korean wave. From Park Chan-wook’s Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance in 2002, through to more recent entries such as Lee Kyoung-mi’s The Truth Beneath, when done correctly, there’s a certain power to these tales that taps into that primitive need to protect our loved ones. Seven Years of Night is the latest entry to explore the vengeful parent trope, and marks the second time for one of author Jeong Yu-jeong’s novels to be adapted for the big screen (the first being 2014’s Shoot Me in the Heart).
At the helm this time is director Choo Chang-min, his first time to return to the director’s chair since 2012’s hugely successful Masquerade (that triggered a trend of lush period dramas). While Seven Days of Night loses Masquerade’s leading man Lee Byung-hun, it does see Chang-min paired up with his previous titles co-star in the form of Ryu Seong-ryong. One of Korea’s most versatile actors, Seong-ryong was on somewhat of a hot streak during 2011 – 2013, with memorable roles in the likes of War of the Arrows and Miracle in Cell No.7. While more recent roles in The Piper and The Sound of a Flower failed to resonate with audiences on the same level, Seong-ryong’s performances in them were still arguably the highlight.
Playing a hard-up security officer, after purchasing an apartment he can’t really afford, he decides to rent it out and moves with his wife and son to employee accommodation in Seryung Village, a small hamlet next to a lake. However while driving there late one night alone and under the influence of alcohol, he hits a young girl that suddenly appears out of nowhere from the surrounding forest, and disposes of her body in the lake. The girl’s father, a physically abusive doctor whose wife has ran away, and it turns out was also what his daughter was attempting to do when she was struck, makes it his mission to find out who was behind her death, and make them pay.
The father is played by an almost unrecognizable Jang Dong-gun, looking like he paid a visit to the same hair stylist as Jean Clade Van Damme in Enemies Closer, and comes across as a seething vessel of nastiness and spite. After the previous year’s mis-fire V.I.P., here Dong-gun takes a chance on a role that casts him against type, and it’s a chance that pay off. A far cry from his action orientated performances in the likes of No Tears for the Dead and The Warrior’s Way, as a vicious brute of a man who feels little remorse for his abusive ways, his role is a memorable one.
The narrative of Seven Years of Night, significantly, largely focuses on the past rather than the present. We learn that Seong-ryong’s misdemeanour was discovered, and he’s been in prison for the last 7 years on death row, while his son, branded an outcast because of his fathers crime, has grown up to become a diver under the tutelage of his father’s former colleague. However the bulk of the narrative takes place during the period that leads up to the girl’s death, and the subsequent consequences of it.
Tonally, this makes for Seven Years of Night to be an interesting beast, and the final product is one that feels unbalanced in where its focus lies. This is most likely due to the source material being a novel, however it shouldn’t be an excuse for an uneven narrative. Chang-min’s latest also feels like a by-product of what we’ve seen a lot of since the success of Na Hong-jin’s The Wailing, and that’s the incorporation of supernatural elements into the more traditional tale of revenge. Seven Years of Night incorporates them far better than say, Yoon Joon-hyeong’s Fatal Intuition, however by the time the end credits are rolling they still feel misplaced.
Indeed the opening scene indicates that a supernatural thriller is exactly what we’re in for. The security supervisor explains the local superstitions that surround the haunted “man-eating lake”, and that for the nearby dam’s construction a whole village was submerged, without the normal practice of it being demolished first. There is also the inclusion of a woman possessed with shaman like visions, played by Moon Jung-hee (Hide and Seek), that feels like she should have more bearing in the plot. As it is though, she does little else other than show up to give ominous premonitions, and explain to Seong-ryong’s son why he’s being visited by the ghost of the girl. To top things off, Seong-ryong suffers from vivid dreams of a well that see him sleep-walking to the lake every night, but what the reasons are behind them remain shrouded in mystery.
All of these elements slowly build up a sense of foreboding dread, as we’re led to question what mysterious forces are at work in the village, and it’s a tone effectively built upon as the plot progresses. At times it feels like Chang-min forgets himself that we’re watching a flashback, as there’s more than one occasion when we get a flashback within a flashback. However this is forgivable, and in many ways is indicative of the core problem in Seven Years of Night, and that is the events that unfolded in the past are far more interesting and layered than what’s going on in the present, which is inevitably where we need to end up.
The cast though all clock in stellar performances, which make it easy to keep watching. In particular, the role of Seong-ryon’s son, played by Jung Joon-won (who was in both The Piper and Hide and Seek) in the past, and Go Kyung-po (Coin Locker Girl) in the present, sees both actors perfectly cast, and very much looking like the older and younger versions of themselves. Song Sae-byeok (A Girl at my Door) is also on point as Seong-ryong’s colleague that ultimately becomes his sons guardian, and feels like the moral core of the tale, despite his decisions not always resulting in positive outcomes.
As well acted and lavishly produced as Seven Years of Night is though, the finale that all the events of the past are building up to in the present, unfortunately feels like a letdown. It’s actually so generic and underwhelming that, out of its 2 hour runtime, Chang-min dedicates a measly 15 minutes to it. During this time a series of events are glazed over at such speed, that when the screen goes blank, you’ll question if you didn’t miss something. To refer to an earlier comment, the rushed conclusion is more than likely a symptom of the book it’s been adapted from. The events of the past allow for plenty of atmosphere building, with the village and the way the characters interact with each other feeling like a pressure cooker of tension. However once it reverts back to present day, it very much feels like – this happens, then this happens, and then this happens. Roll credits.
Perhaps the best way to enjoy Seven Years of Night is to enjoy it for what it is, rather than what it frequently teases to be. It is, at its core, the tale of a mean spirited man looking to avenge the death of his daughter, one whom he had little regard for until her death. What it’s supposed to be is the redemption of a convicted murderer’s son, as he finally finds meaning in his life after seven years of despising himself for who he is. Then what it actually comes across as, is a confusing blend of characters haunted by their past and ghosts of the departed. While I’ve always admired how many Korean filmmakers can blend multiple genres together into a coherent whole, it’s a skill that should never be taken for granted. Seven Years of Night is one such example, which would have benefited from more focus on what it actually is, and less on what it isn’t.
There have been countless films made about Mongol leader Genghis Khan (including 2007’s Genghis Khan: To the Ends of the Earth and Sea), and now, a heavy CGI take, simply titled Genghis Khan, is on the horizon.
This Hasi Chaolu-directed fantasy epic will tell the tale of how Temujin would become the titular fearless leader after his father’s passing and the death of his entire tribe.
Genghis Khan is produced by French filmmaker Jean-Jacques Annaud, mostly known for The Name of the Rose, The Lover and Seven Years in Tibet. The film stars William Chan (L.O.R.D: Legend of Ravaging Dynasties) Lin Yun (The Mermaid), Hu Jun (As the Light Goes Out), Basen Zhabu (Red Cliff) and Ni Dahong (The Assassin).
Genghis Khan is currently in post-production phase and is expected to be released later this year.
On June 5th, Sony Pictures is releasing The Debt Collector(aka The Pay Up) on DVD (read our review). This “buddy pic” actioner teams Scott Adkins (Savage Dog) with filmmaker Jesse V. Johnson (Accident Man) for a 4th time (5th if you count 2005’s Pit Fighter).
French (Adkins) is running a martial arts gym – but it hasn’t exactly been paying the bills. To make ends meet, he begins working for the notorious Tommy, servicing various criminal outfits throughout California. Working by a number scale, with #10 being a threat and a #1 being a full-on trip to the hospital, French and his partner Sue (Louis Mandylor) are in charge of chasing down any kind of criminal or low-life who owes money to the organization.
Rounding out the cast are Michael Paré (Streets of Fire), Tony Todd (The Crow), Vladimir Kulich (Savage Dog), David William No (Mr. Nice Guy) and Selina Lo (Triple Threat).
Filmed just two years later, featuring the same leading man in Ken Yamauchi, and based on a book by the same author in Toko Kon, Born Under Crossed Stars is something of a spiritual sequel to the angst-driven youth drama The Incorrigible. There are differences that make it impossible to consider it a direct sequel – Yamauchi plays a character with a different name, for one – but the similarities are plentiful enough for fans of either film to make a connection if they like.
The Incorrigible was a rather dark story about a bastard who didn’t fit in and clashed with not only his elders but also the rising fascism in the student body. Born Under Crossed Stars takes place during the same period when ultra-conservatism was beginning to become dangerous in Japan. However, its intent is not to rage against the world but rather to laugh at it. Born Under Crossed Stars is a strange little movie. It’s a horny teen romance dramedy set on a backdrop of a nation in a state of transition. You don’t see that every day.
Ken Yamauchi plays a teen named Jukichi Suzuki this time around (the last name of Suzuki forces one to wonder if this was not only a semi-autobiographical tale about author Toko Kon’s life but also director Seijun Suzuki’s. But this may be me digging where I shouldn’t be). Jukichi, like the Yamauchi’s character from The Incorrigible, doesn’t quite fit in. He’s a big fan of foreign novelists and spends his after-school time delivering milk to his small town. We learned from The Incorrigible that books were considered controversial in 1920’s Japan, but now we learn that so was milk. Seriously, milk. It’s my understanding that Japan (and presumably other nations) were not into milk at the time and that the rapid modernization/westernization of the Taisho period encouraged Japanese citizens to give cow milk a try (I’m lactose intolerant, so I say they were doing things the right way before all those Western milkmen showed up and started cramming unwanted phlegm water in everybody’s faces).
Jukichi gets in a shoving match with his friend Yoshio after he catches the dude making out in public with Taneko (Yumiko Nogawa). Yoshio doesn’t appreciate it and he’s like, damn you Jukichi, don’t deliver milk to our house anymore. But this gets complicated when Yoshio’s sister Suzuko (Masako Izumi) confronts Jukichi and asks why her family’s not getting milk deliveries anymore. High and mighty Jukichi explains it’s because of her brother. “The truth is, milk’s too good for someone of his low morals!” is a real line from the film.
And it was at this point where I scratched my head, uncertain of whether this was a comedy or a drama or… what. The scene where Jukichi explains why Yoshio is not good enough for milk is done with a straight face. Very melodramatic. But it’s so absurd and laughable. And then, at points where I obviously was meant to laugh (the cast is full of weirdo supporting characters), I usually just stared blankly at the screen. The film is too manic for my tastes.
Much of the story is about Jukichi trying to choose between the proper girl-next-door in Suzuko and the flirtatious naughty girl Taneko (the same girl he caught his former friend Yoshio making out with). There’s some good stuff here, even if it’s surrounded by nonsense. But this central plot gets derailed in the final act after a feud with a yakuza enters the story. Jukichi takes a violent turn in these later moments, and though he is forced to face the consequences for his actions, the lesson he takes from it (and thus, the lesson the film wishes to impart) doesn’t register as honest to me.
I enjoyed Ken Yamauchi’s work in The Incorrigible more. Jukichi is less of an ass, but he’s not very interesting to me. The film’s best moments come from the little asides featuring the supporting cast. Yumiko Nogawa (Gate of Flesh) is the film’s most compelling character in Taneko, who portrays youthful desire with a devilish grin but also is capable of being wounded by the men she courts. I also enjoyed Masako Izumi (Tattooed Life) as her well-mannered rival. Masao Mishima (Pigs and Battleships) has a great role as a hypocritical Buddhist monk. The dairy farmer who employs Jukichi (I’m unaware of the actor’s name) is also fun. He spent a year in America and feels the need to remind everyone slacking on the job that “that’s not the Texas Way!”
Director Seijun Suzuki shows some interesting visual flourishes. The film is edited in the style of a Jean-Luc Godard comedy. It’s playful. But again, the film’s frenzied script made it difficult for me to like.
About this release: I’ve come to think of this Arrow box set of Seijun Suzuki’s ‘Youth Movies’ as a fancy Eclipse series set. Eclipse is a series of box sets put out by Criterion either focusing on masterpieces by overlooked artists or minor films by celebrated masters. I can’t help but see these five films (The Boy Who Came Back, The Wind-of-Youth Group Crosses the Mountain Pass, Teenage Yakuza, The Incorrigible, and Born Under Crossed Stars) as minor Suzuki films. Even so, it might have actually enhanced my appreciation for Suzuki, because it showcased his range as a storyteller. The limited edition set, which is quickly selling out, features a new commentary on Born Under Crossed Stars by Japanese film historian Jasper Sharp, a short video on the five films by critic Tony Rayn and a 60-page booklet.
Director: Leon Lai Writer: Succeed Be Cast: Leon Lai, Zhang Hanyu, Nan Fulong, Lily Ji Li, Du Juan, David Wang, Huang Shang-Ho Running Time: 80 min.
By Paul Bramhall
Out of the Four Heavenly Kings of Cantopop – Andy Lau, Aaron Kwok, Jacky Cheung, and Leon Lai – it’s always been youngest member Lai that’s had the most difficulty transitioning his onstage pop star charisma to the silver screen. Ladened with an almost Steven Seagal level of inability to express emotion beyond a single facial expression, Lai’s stony faced cinematic outings in action flicks, such as Benny Chan’s Heroic Duo and Dante Lam’s Fire of Conscience, are enough to dampen even the biggest explosion. While directors like Wong Kar Wai and Johnnie To have utilised his blank expressions to their advantage, with his 1990’s era outings Fallen Angels and A Hero Never Dies being career high points, Lai’s latest Wine War asks the risky question – what would it be like if he directs himself?
In fairness, Wine War isn’t the first time for Lai to play director and star, as he also pulled double duty on the 2006 movie A Melody Looking. However the reality is that his debut in the director’s chair was more of a thinly veiled extended promo for the artists signed up to his music label, Amusic, rather than a legitimate attempt at filmmaking. When over half of your movie is full length music videos lamely integrated into a supposed story, you’re not fooling anyone. So in that regard, we can essentially consider Wine War to be Lai’s legitimate directorial debut, and for it he’s brought Zhang Han-Yu along for the ride.
Han-Yu is one of the best actors to come out of the Mainland, oozing a Chow Yun Fat level of charisma (there’s a reason why John Woo chose him as the lead for Manhunt), for international audiences he likely first registered in the 2007 war drama Assembly. While mentioning a Chinese war movie in today’s climate likely brings to mind the bombast of Wolf Warrior 2 and Operation Red Sea (which he’s also in), Assembly was made before China became the box office juggernaut it would be just a few years later. As a result, it’s a surprisingly intimate look at the effects of war, and Han-Yu walked away with the Best Leading Actor award at the 2008 Golden Horse Awards. Today he’s more known for his distinctively macho roles in the likes of Operation Mekong and The Taking of Tiger Mountain, and to see him onscreen brightens up any movie.
In Wine War, he and Lai play friends that grew up together in the same orphanage. However a turn of events result in Lai being adopted by a wealthy Frenchman, while Han-Yu remains in China, growing up to be a rural town cop. After losing contact for a number of years, Han-Yu contacts Lai out of the blue to tell him he’s coming to France, in order to bid on an ancient bottle of wine (the ‘Wine God’) that contains a secret recipe from the Yuan dynasty. The auction is being run by a pair of siblings played by Nan Fu-Long and Du Juan (if you’ve never heard of them, it’s because they’re models, not actors), the last surviving members of a Mongol-Chinese lineage based in France. Han-yu will have to compete with 2 other bidders, played by Huang Shanghe and David Wang (if you’re wondering, at one point Du Juan explains she’s rejected all the non-Chinese bidders).
It’s soon revealed though that not everyone is who they claim to be, and that the auction is in fact a ruse to draw out the long missing brother of Fu-Long and Juan, who is the only one that knows the secret of the ‘Wine God’. How exactly do Lai and Han-Yu fit into this plot, and will they survive it? The answer to the latter is yes, the answer to the former is more tricky. Wine War is based on a story that Lai created himself, and initially, it seems like his directing style looks to be a throwback to the Hong Kong tonal zaniness of old. The opening 15 minutes contain a quirky flashback to the Yuan dynasty, while also revealing Lai to have grown into a modern day Hugh Hefner, when Han-Yu arrives in France to be greeted by a mansion overrun by a bevy of bikini clad beauties, and even a baritone singing chef.
However Wine War quickly runs out of steam, and despite its short runtime of 80 minutes (don’t be fooled by the official 90 minutes – 10 minutes is made up of outtakes and the end credits), Lai’s latest quickly becomes a plodding experience to get through. The main issue is his story, as despite it only containing a handful of main characters, what the motivations are behind their actions become increasingly confusing, largely thanks to the clunky delivery of the narrative. Also, beyond the fact that the script states Lai and Han-Yu grew up together, their relationship as long-time friends is completely unbelievable. A large factor in this is that Han-Yu acts Lai off the screen whenever they’re on it together. Clearly having a lot of fun with a role that allows him to ape many of his more stoic performances, Lai’s comparatively bland line delivery does him no favours.
Similarly, the off-kilter pacing doesn’t seem to know what it wants to focus on. We get Lai and Han-Yu singing a ballad together on karaoke, which in true Hong Kong style is utilized to throw in a montage showing how Han-Yu’s marriage fell apart, while he wistfully sings about having the courage to love again. Will he? We never get to know, as his divorce is never mentioned again, basically reducing it to ‘montage filler’. Lai is also out-acted by David Wang (here enjoying a more substantial role than in Extraordinary Mission) as another bidder, who we learn has his own agenda for attending the auction, and ultimately strikes up a more convincing relationship with Han-Yu than Lai does.
Proceedings are attempted to have some life injected into them with a couple of action scenes. The first takes place in a chateau for a wine tasting session, that sees snipers hiding in the surrounding woodland causing plenty of collateral wine glass damage, in a scene which admittedly looks visually striking. I’m sure there was a miscommunication between Lai and his CGI team though, as the scene ends with a ridiculously epic explosion that rips through half the chateau, but doesn’t seem to draw much of a reaction from anyone (or have any bearing on the rest of the plot). I think the size of the explosion was probably supposed to be slightly on the smaller scale. The finale itself involves a Railroad Tigers-esque sequence, beginning with a shootout on a train platform, before moving onto a speeding train.
Throwing in bullets, magnetic bombs, the over-used ‘super’ slow-motion, and some awkward attempts at humor, it’s an unremarkable end to what feels like a distinctive case of Lai biting off more than he can chew. If Wine War is anything to go by, then it would appear he needs to spend a little more time at directing school, with its inconsistency ultimately being the biggest detractor. Several of the comedy sequences fall flat (not least those involving Lai himself), the flashback sequences are tedious rather than enlightening, and there are some truly bizarre musical cues. From songs which sound like they come straight out of a Hannah Montana episode, to a note for note recreation of Iggy Azalea’s Fancy opening being used to kick off a scene. Its head scratching.
Neither maintaining the quirkiness that its opening initially promised, nor being as overwhelmingly dire as many recent Mainland blockbusters (despite featuring a bad guy in a suit covered in lightning bolts, who looks like he just walked off the set of Switch), Wine War is best described as a squandered opportunity. While it may aim to be as enjoyable as a glass of vintage red, in the end it feels more like a hangover, the type induced after one too many glasses of cheap grog.
Disclaimer: cityonfire.com does not own any of the photos contained in the blog. cityonfire.com was made merely to pay homage to these films, directors, talent, etc. and not for any profit or commercial reasons. No copyright infringement intended. The photos are copyrighted and courtesy by their respective owners.
cityonfire.com is a non-profit website for the private use and entertainment and/or parody purposes.
"Copyright Disclaimer, Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statue that might otherwise be infringing. Non-profit, education or personal use tops the balance in favor of fair use."
5 Comments