The City of Violence

2006 / Ryu Seung-wan > I imagine that Ryu’s intention with The City of Violence may have been to exploit every inch of the martial arts/action genre he could while still having some semblence of plot and character development. And that he did, if barely, but just enough to progress the film towards crazier and more ridiculous fighting sequences. Clocking in at roughly 90 minutes, Ryu doesn’t force the Korean convention of the two hour film, but instead keeps it short and sweet. The meat may be thin, but the bones don’t break: The City of Violence is the result of every successful director’s wet dream.

4.5, Japan

The Bad Sleep Well

1960 / Akira Kurosawa > It’s taken me quite a while to appreciate the power of Kurosawa’s storytelling, but The Bad Sleep Well is one step closer to the nail on that coffin. Forget the fact that this is a Shakespearean adaptation (and note that knowing the story itself is of no consequence). What we have here is an elegantly crafted corporate revenge thriller that touches on multiple facets of capitalism as well as social construction. While there may be a leftist bias, thankfully the gravity of that bias is appropriate when the plot and setting are put in perspective.

Toshiro Mifune is as lean and mean as ever: No Seven Samurai-style overindulgence is necessary for him to convey his character’s anger and compassion. The remainder of the cast each flower the pot to full bloom, notably Ko Nishimura’s paranoid contract officer and Tatsuya Mihashi’s loving brother. The cryptic and often jolly musical accompaniment is haunting, and the pacing slowly builds an emotional snowball within the viewer that enhances attachment. Too often we get bored and want the bad guy to win—but here, even though at times we question the protagonist’s moral tactics, we stand by him and hope for the best.

The film is often forgotten among the annals of samurai flicks in Kurosawa’s ouevre. But The Bad Sleep Well is not simply about social relevance to today’s society, but rather a sobering experience in expert storytelling. It lacks the gimmicks that drive most of today’s films, and instead depends on human curiosity itself, an obvious yet underused technique. The wedding cake scene alone is worth the price of viewing.

3.0, Latin America/Spain

The Perfect Crime

2004 / Alex de la Iglesia > A tale of two halves: The Perfect Crime has an incredible build-up, with a freshly comic opening that commands your attention. “Who is this man?” “What is his story?” Alright, so he works at a department store, but hilarity ensues nevertheless. Then we have the gist of the film slowly revealed, and suddenly it dawns on us that the film has a modest chance of being original at this point. It tries, and it tries hard. But it fails. The lead-up to the finale is scattered and often boring, but one comes to understand, “This is definitely better than most films that try to do this. Not too shabby, not too shabby at all.”

4.0, United States/Canada

Little Miss Sunshine

2006 / Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris > The primary complaint about Little Miss Sunshine has been how contrived its characters are, how they so easily fit into sitcom slots. It’s true, but I found it to be a positive attribute of the film. Each family member is exploited to create a ranged satire of the American dysfunctional household. It’s not meant to be cheap and actually comes out surprisingly clever.

At times, I found myself genuinely laughing, the way only a few films have (such as this year’s Family Ties and last year’s The Upside of Anger). We end up empathizing with much of the silliness, sometimes directly and other times in a metaphorical sense. Much of this is due to the superb acting: Virtually everyone shines, including a heartbreaking sequence by The Girl Next Door’s Paul Dano.

The writing is crisp, but one could make an argument that the plot is a little too connect-the-dots. It ends up working, however, mostly because of the “road movie” nature of the film. Indeed, it’s a wonderful ride from beginning to end, even if one finds the return home a little muted in direction. The final revelations aren’t holistic, and that may be enough to keep it from reaching higher ground.

3.5, Europe

L’enfant

2005 / Jean-Pierre & Luc Dardenne > The Brothers Dardenne were awarded with the Palme d’Or at the 2005 Cannes Film Festival for their frank and heartbreaking portrayal of a young couple with a newborn in the streets of Belgium. How much they deserved such recognition, however, is the burning question: Was L’Enfant really the tour de force of emotion that one feels at the closing shot? Or was that a neat and effective clean-up hit for an otherwise pedestrian film?

Undoubtedly, this film will bring forth combatants on both sides of the trench. I give the Dardennes credit for effectively reusing their claustrophobic, slice-of-life filmmaking style to give us a sense of realism far exceeding most commercial films. However, the characters are by default made not to like: Yes, they are good-natured and warm-hearted, but they are also irresponsible to a degree where it’s hard for us to empathize and hold back judgment. In The Son, the Dardennes showed that we are good by nature, with a level of depth far beyond what is present here. But while there are moments of absolute humanity present in the midst of this exercise, what is asked of us in the end of L’Enfant seems unfair and too simple, and for that it will be insoluble for many.

3.5, Japan

Rashomon

1950 / Akira Kurosawa > No doubt that it’s quite sad when such a revolutionary film does not age well: Rashomon’s contrasting viewpoints and inquiries into the nature of truth was of great importance when the film had its initial release. But while it’s important to respect the film for its place in the annals of history, it’s bound to underwhelm the majority of viewers who’ve seen the same techniques further refined in a barrage of films over the past decade or two. Thus, it’s important to not ask, “Is The Usual Suspects better?” but rather to focus on how it has improved upon the foundation originally laid by Kurosawa.

3.0, Southeast Asia

Citizen Dog

2004 / Wisit Sasanatieng > Take Amelie, increase the color saturation, replace Paris with Bangkok and add some crack. That about sums up Citizen Dog: a quirky, oddball romantic comedy that has its own fair share of imagination to keep itself from simply being dubbed a copycat.

Its most unfortunate act may be that it starts off so strong (in terms of original content, witty storyline and sheer pacing) that halfway through it fails to keep up. Once that steam runs out, the style no longer works or fits, and the viewer is left stalled, even bored. Moreover, the peculiar subplots work fine when in small doses, but the whole “plastic” storyline was dead at arrival. However, this remains a wonderful watch if only because one gets to witness the further maturation of Thai cinema as well as some very memorable characters in their habitat.

4.0, Japan

Sorry

2002 / Shin Togashi > In short, Sorry’s portrayal of “first love” may be the finest of its kind ever put on celluloid. And no, this can’t be compared with Romeo or Juliet or something equally as melodramatic. What we have here is a simple, beautiful but strong as ever tale of a boy who’s just hit puberty falling head over heels for a girl who he randomly comes across at a pickle store. The film’s comic and often childish, but that’s fitting for our 12-year-old protagonist. Sorry matures as he does, step by step, by unwinding the mystery that is love.

2.0, Europe, United States/Canada

Tideland

2006 / Terry Gilliam > If your only defense for Tideland is the phrase, “It’s Gilliam’s purest film yet,” chances are you’ll have to do better than that to please the general audience. There’s a lot here to love, but unfortunately there’s also a lot here to bore. The idea that the whole story is told through the eyes of Jeliza-Rose, a young girl who becomes orphaned early on by her heroine-abusing parents (played superbly by Jeff Bridges and Jennifer Tilly), is by no means enough to validate the long, enduring passages of repetitive dialogue and uneventful actions. Were this to be a short(er) film instead of clocking in at almost exactly two hours, the tightness of the script would have held together the otherwise magical aspects of the film.

Star Jodelle Ferland is truly a sight to behold: She drives every scene with one of the most charismatic performances seen by a young actor in quite a long time. Co-star Brendan Fletcher, playing a mentally challenged boy/man, also shines, and the two balance each other well enough in the latter half of the film to make things a little more bearable. The cinematography is dark yet beautiful, and the overall feel of the film is almost an anti-Alice in Wonderland (although, there are no extensive travels into a rabbit hole here). For any Gilliam fan, this is a must-see, love or hate. For others, it’s a crapshoot at best.

4.0, Korea

Family Ties

2006 / Kim Tae-yong > It’s probably quite sad that only 200,000 or so Koreans saw this film when it was released in May. But one has to wonder if the horrendous marketing (the posters depict a gleeful, silly family that scream slapstick and cheesy) is to blame. What the populace missed out on, sadly, is a meticulously crafted take on the nuances of family life, generations and how time helps us heal and grow.

The primary reason for its success as a film is its freshness: While there are typical melodrama storylines present, Kim does an excellent job in making sure to not continuously delve into cliches. The dialogue is very true to life, often genuinely comedic and timed just right. It’s rare to find a film nowadays where one minute you’re in a pit of sadness, and then suddenly you find yourself laughing uncontrollably.

The cast is superb as well. Moon So-ri, the woman who can do no wrong in my book, bounces back from the muddy script in Bewitching Attraction to score an incredible yet subtle performance. Kong Hyo-jin shines as an enigmatic daughter of a dying woman, though the the solidity of the script makes almost every character and actor look good.

It’s hard to recall if any film in recent memory has approached the subject matter of family relationships in as intelligently a fashion as this. Kim’s portrayal is delicate, fair and realistic. Even the very end, which for a minute or two seems incredibly nonsensical, is surprisingly fitting—That, to me, was proof positive of a great two hours.

Life as Fiction

Commentaries on Film by Rahat Ahmed