Tuesday, December 27, 2016

The Force Awakens: An Age without Father

It was too disappointing to watch The Force Awakens (henceforth TFA) for its chaotic structure. It appears as the worst case you can make out of a multi-protagonist film. Despite my distaste of the film, it was the late Carrie Fisher who let me watch the film again since I wanted to see her latest appearance. Though it is unexpected, the well-organized structure of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story made me to reassess the disorder of TFA. It is important to note that Rogue One is cemented by the father’s order while TFA is a conflated story of orphans. Not to mention those evident orphans like Ray and Fin, Luke has been lost doubting his capability to build a new Jedi order in the absence of any mentor (we know he also defeated his father, yeah!), Kylo Ren “wonderfully” dives into the realm of fatherless world, and Poe Dameron? Is it worth to mention this Wedge-like pilot guy here?

There are so many histrionic moments in the movie that audiences would not understand. Those moments are mostly meant to show how Ray finds out ways to feel the Force. It seems ridiculous that a novice (and a scavenger) like her easily resists Kylo Ren, uses Force mind trick to a stormtrooper, and wins the lightsaber battle. Especially when she lets go her Force sensitivity during the duel, the camera stays on her close-up for a long time and Kylo Ren generously waits for her to feel the Force with her eyes closed. For this unnaturalness, in my previous reviews of TFA and Rogue One, I assumed that Ray’s secret of birth would be finally connected to the Skywalker nepotism for her unexplained intuitive talent.

However, it might be understood as a way to find an order in the absence of father. How can we find an order if there is no sacred one like father to judge good and evil? It seems TFA suggests that the solution is supposed to be heuristic. If this is what the filmmakers meant, it is delving more into one’s inner mind than the conventional mode of melodrama does. A typical melodrama protagonist conforms to his/her predetermined psychic role (either good or evil) through his/her words and behaviors. However in TFA, it is not even to be manifested. It is just enough to stay in one’s inner world and does not have to be explained logically. In this sense, now I doubt if Disney would reveal who Ray’s parents are. It might be more disappointing if Ray has actual parents since it can cling Ray to a preexisting order as well as the conventional Hollywood narrative.

I hesitate to assert this, but based on this consideration, I guess Leia was supposed to free Kylo Ren from the dark side of the Force as the father’s attempt (Han Solo) turned out to be infeasible. But is this meaningful at this very moment when we can no longer see Carrie Fisher again? Even if that was Disney’s initial plan, they might have no choice but change it. Anyway, this new perspective of mine makes myself expect what will come in the next Star Wars episode. Of course, this does not cover the lack of creativity of TFA. My criticism against Jar Jar Abrams is still effective. I just hope the next director will show a new horizon of narrative without leaving obtuse cliffhangers.


May the Force be with Carrie Fisher and all of us.

Thursday, December 1, 2016

Vanishing Time: A Boy Who Returned

Vanishing Time: A Boy Who Returned

Directed by: Um Tae-hwa

Distributor: Showbox

Starring: Kang Dong-won, Shin Eun-soo, Kim Hee-won, Kwon Hae-hyo, et al.


There were five to seven people in the auditorium today. Two of them were couples. They came late, left early. While watching the movie, these two lovers kept chattering in low frequency and that was a typical fate(?) of an unpopular non-Western film. But after finishing the movie, I came to understand the couple.

That is because this film is specifically for Koreans who remember the sinking of MV Sewol. It means they are ready to be trapped by the disastrous trauma. It is manifested by numerous allegories, such as the detonations for tunneling and the death of kids without being noticed by adults, that are posited by the filmmakers. I hate this kind of explanation the most because it is the easiest and superficial. But this time, I could not find a better one. As Isamail Xavier explained, allegory is used to reconcile the "fixed truth" of the past with the viewpoint of the present, while overcoming the temporal rupture between the two times ("Historical Allegory" 341). This is because the temporal gap gives a room for spatial and temporal conditions to interrupt the past teller's intention when it is interpreted by the present reader (338). For this reason, unlike symbolism which is universal, deciphering of allegory requires the reader's preliminary knowledge as a code as Xavier insisted:

"Here the reader and his or her cultural bias - that is to say, the pole of interpretation - become the major instance responsible for the allegory." (340)


So it is not surprising the couple (and another guy who came alone) left the theater in the midst of the film. The real question is; was the allegory effective to Korean audiences? My answer is no. The central sentiment in this film is the different passages of time between the survivor and the victim. As I remember, such a sentiment was represented either by quotes ("You should wear uniforms and enjoy school life. Don't abandon them for me.") or by the actors' cryings.

More to blame is the typical temporal order of the narrative. Although the narrative contains aspects of thriller, it was too bad that everything was revealed to the spectator too easily. I think a simple shuffling of scene could have accrued tension, but the story was shown so linearly as possible. So for me, the film became just a boring fantasization of the marine disaster.

Cited work:
Xavier, Ismail. "Historical Allegory." A Companion to Film Theory, edited by Toby Miller and Robert Stam, Blackwell Publishing, 1999, pp. 333-361.



Sunday, August 14, 2016

Sailor Suit and Machine Gun: Graduation (2016)

     This film is an adaptation of Yaguchi Shinobu's novel with the same title. Like a course cuisine, the film contains typical Japanese cultural elements such as life in high school and Yakuza. On top of that, it also touches upon contemporary Japan's problem of silver society.
     I assume the filmmaker attempted to describe mental development the youth by the combination of a high school girl and Yakuza. Though problematic, it is a fresh try. However, while I like the film's theme, it is hard to agree with the way how the filmmaker directed it.
     There is a clear discrepancy between the aud's expectation (or just mine?) and the film's mood. In such a film like this, one might expect fancy action scenes in which the cute Hashimoto Kanna wipes out the evil Yakuza. On the contrary, this film is never frivolous. This is neither an action film nor a Noir. That's not bad. If it was a frivolous idol action movie, it could have been even worse, due to the uncanny combination between a girl and violence.
     
     The problem is, the film's tempo is totally loose. I understand that the filmmaker deliberately used long-takes in order to convey simultaneity (spectating Kanna in a real time) and to prevent emotional fissures. I buy the filmmakers's effort to take such long and well-tailored shots, but pertaining to the entire picture, those shots were not good with the nihilistic plot. Though I did not read the original novel, I guess the director used long-takes in order to solely depend on his actors's performance because bitterness of loss is what the original book says.

     In fact, it is a probable artistic option. However, I assume the film's box office score manifests that such a direction was incompatible with the taste of the aud, especially fans of Kanna. She was and is truly kawaii, but the film caused a controversy on her action because of it excessive dependence on her. Does she really have a capacity to lead a two-hour film alone? I doubt it.

Friday, June 10, 2016

Book Review: Food, Media & Contemporary Culture

 
Publisher: Palgrave Macmilan
Editor: Peri Bradley

This book provides an insight that enables you to see contexts, which are hidden under the surface, around modern foodie culture. I selectively read some of the essays to save time.

1. More Cake Please - We're British! Locating British Identity in Contemporary TV Food Texts, The Great British Bake Off and Come Dine With Me.

by Peri Bradley

This essay explains how British convention works within the shows not only with the foods but also with ancillary aspects such as location, judges, etc.

After reading this, I watched an episode of The Great British Baking Show (actually, I am sure this is the same thing that Bradley mentioned) on Netflix, and the notions of British standard and authority were important in the show.

2. Benidorm and the 'All You Can Eat' Buffet: Food, Bodily Functions and the Carnivalesque

by Christopher Pullen

This shows the idea of class that resides on consumption & digestion of food and body, but I felt like most of assertions were working only on the textual level, which means, the author interpreted elements of the drama, which are even obvious to undergrad students. Not bad, but other ones are more interesting to read.

3. A Pinch of Ethics and a Soupçon of Home Cooking: Soft-selling Supermarkets on Food Television

by Tania Lewis and Michelle Phillipov

"[...] Australian supermarkets have recently begun to actively intervene in the space of food ethics and politics, [...] Key here is the desire to claim a market-based, moral high ground in a context where supermarkets are under mounting media pressure and public scrutiny in relation to their practices of sourcing [...]" (121, emphasis added)

This essay explains how shows and campaigns that are sponsored by supermarket chains invisibly enhances consumer's trust and companies' image. Due to the exemplary program's cyclical structure in which the consumer can also become a producer, this essay reminds me of Professor Jung-bong Choi's lecture of affective labor. In other words, laymen's food contest can be interpreted as a transmuted form of consumption since it consumes customers' effort, not to mention their money.

4. Cooking on Reality TV: Chef-Participants and Culinary Television

by Hugh Curnutt

The chef contest show is beneficial for a chef for some reasons:
a) It becomes a part of his/her career.
b) Competing with one's contemporaries enhances his/her recognition in the community of chefs.
c) It helps running one's restaurants, vice versa.

5. Food Porn: The Conspicuous Consumption of Food in the Age of Digital Reproduction

by Erin Metz McDonnell

This explains imagery and contextual nature of food porn in regards to cinematography (e.g. Framing, orientation, depth of field). McDonnell is also highly sensitive to class: the purpose of food porn is to create a seemingly attainable illusion that is actually unattainable. 

Monday, May 16, 2016

Three Films of Renoir and Illusion of Love

     They say love becomes ephemeral in your 30s. Unlike your previous decade, it does not worth tackling for or make your life better. Now you know love is only a superficial and naive idea that actually annoys you. Yes, you may still love someone, but now it is not the only and foremost priority. Jean Renoir's three films - The Golden Coach (1952), French Cancan (1954), and Elena and Her Men (1956) - represent how much the fantasy of love is illusive in a deceptive manner.

     The spectator might feel uncanny after watching all of the three films. Of the center of each of them is an attraction. In The Golden Coach, they are the viceroy's brand-new coach and a traveling theater. In French Cancan, it is the dance of Cancan, obviously. And in Elena and Her Men, the subsequent events around a general and a princess catch the spectator's eyes. Characters revolve around such attractions, and the films seem to manifest innocent love stories: love-at-first-sight, a platonic love between an old man and a young girl, rectangular relationship among three fervent men and a woman. However, these films suddenly subvert their stories after leading the audience along the ordinary romance for about 70 minutes. When the audience realizes the slight change of tone, it turns out to be too late.

Henri Danglard looks like an innocent show producer
who suffers from the unstable financial support
     French CanCan presents a cabaret show producer Henri Danglard's rise and fall. Superficially, he and his pals are frivolous bourgeois who repeatedly keep meeting and breaking up. Danglard, who seeks and develops talents, is backed by his friend Walter. But as Danglard has a small argument with him, Walter draws back his financial support (and this does not happen only once). As an bohemian, Danglard does not get depressed and keep looking for new talents. An innocent girl Nini is one of them. After she was recruited by Danglard, she learns cancan only to witness his downfall due to her (unofficial) husband's violence on the producer in the opening event of a new cabaret, Moulin Rouge. Seeing Danglard's persistent optimism and love of art, Nini becomes his mistress and devotes herself to him. Upon the opening day of Moulin Rouge, she observes a solo singer who sang before her , behind the curtain.





     Aligning herself to Danglard, she realizes the way he perceives talents. And this is assured by what happens on the backstage before the climactic cancan show. In front of Nini's dress room, the characters' tableau is divided into two sides. One is Danglard's, where everyone except Nini belongs, represents their complicity in the rules of the entertainment world. The other side is Nini's, where only she belongs. Danglard reveals what he is so blatantly, and then Nini helplessly complies to the reality. However, this scene is not the most astounding.

     While Nini and her colleagues dances cancan, Danglard delves into the rhythm sitting on a armchair with a meaningful smile. Right after then, he encounters a female laborer who happens to witness him shaking his leg like a "vulgar" cancan dancer. Due to the gaze, he puts his leg down and lights up his cigar, which represents an elegant bourgeois appetite, as she disappears. Meanwhile, Nini crazily mingles around the cabaret showing her underwear and stretching her legs as other girls do. Compared to Danglard's confident and satisfactory smile, her exaggeratedly distorted laughter finalizes her demoralization. The crest of the moral downfall is manifested by the collective shots of the girls, especially the frontal ones. Row by row, they rush right to the film spectator lifting their skirts.






 



     This evokes the spectator's compassion for her. The overall story has little sadness. Though there was an attempt to suicide, every character achieves his/her goal. Every man who wandered around Nini meets his pair, and she eventually becomes a dancer as she has wanted. Despite such happy ending, there is an uncanny feeling that comes from the low class characters' masochistic satisfaction with reality. Nini seems to be a victor, but she is actually a victim of the entertainment industry  and  star system. The film alludes that its temporal background, so called Belle Époque, was based on the illusive and phallocentric society, which was created and maintained by bourgeois.



     This film reminds me of contemporary idol system and furthermore, Walter Benjamin's criticism on Hollywood star system in "The Work of art in the Age of Technological Reproducibility". Though the star seems to possess all possible wealth and fame, at the same time, he/she becomes a target of public repugnance and a servant for entertainment. The recent Korean contest Produce 101 has created heated debates about teenager exploitation, but such was already alluded in Renoir's French Cancan. The only reason why the contest was distasted is not because it took advantage of the young girls but because its manner was too flagrant and clumsy compared to Renoir's depiction.

Diaper fashion of Girl's Day in 2001

     But star system is not Renoir's the only and ultimate topic. Due to his subsequent unfolding of love stories, his films also evoke a pessimism of love itself.

     Elena and Her Men is another example. A Polish princess, Elena (Ingrid Bergman) has a mystery power to make one's dream come true with a daisy. After meeting her in his victory parade, the adept general Rollan believes in her magical power and stops thinking autonomously. Accordingly, everyone around the princess, such as the general's advisers and his friend Henri, strives to "pimp her out" to the general. In short, this film is a slight modification of the director's previous work The Rules of the Game (1939) in a sense that it also shows the stupidity of bourgeois. But more importantly, this film represents how admiration of woman and her clout are illusively constructed by phallocentrism. The two main male leads, Rollan and Henri, ask her for love but always try to exploit her body, either in the name of the state or that of the general. It is also strange that the princess always works and moves for the male characters' needs without any hesitation. This is because of Renoir's perspective, which depicts the French citizens, even Elena, in this work almost like Fascists. The general's love becomes a national secret. It is also a way of guaranteeing the state's triumph. For this, love becomes so ephemeral and void at the end whereas all characters in the scene caress and kiss each other.

     The Golden Coach is a case that makes me regard it as an afterwards story of the aforementioned stories. Its heroine Camilla (Anna Magnani) is the most powerful lady among the three films. Thanks to the histrionic setting, she enjoys her position as a dominatrix ruling both male and female characters by either her own energy or the theatrical language, if inevitable (e.g. the scene where she takes the golden coach from the viceroy). Ironically, however, her dominance suddenly ends as the curtain is drawn. It is truly worthwhile to cite her dialogue with Don Antonio, the pantaloon.

- Don Antonio: 
Ladies and Gentlemen, to celebrate the triumph of Camilla over the intrigues of the court I would have liked to present to you a new melodrama in the Italian style but Camilla is still missing. Camilla! Camilla, on stage! Don't waste your time in the so-called real life. You belong to us the actors, acrobats mimes, clowns, mountebanks. Your only way to find happiness is on any stage, any platform, any public place during those two little hours when you become another person your true self.

- Camilla:
Felipe, Ramon, the viceroy disappeared gone. Don't they exist anymore?

- Don Antonio: 
Disappeared. Now they are a part of the audience. Do you miss them?

- Camilla:
A little.

     It is pity that her dominance only exists in the theater within the film. But this also represents the existence of women's ideal ego in cinema. As Laura Mulvey argued in her essay, a woman is supposed to project her desire to her son, who is another male, due to her absence of penis. Likewise, the above-mentioned heroines - Elena, Camilla, Nini - employ other signifiers - her men (Elena), the golden coach (Camilla), and Danglard (Nini) - to signify their dignity and existence. Like Camilla's case, women's desire is not to be inherent in themselves but to be projected externally. And love is the very device that Renoir used to disguise such conspiracy.

   I do not intend to delve into the feminist ideology, but I was just sad to feel Renoir's pessimism of love, and even of all naive ideas of the world. I recently read a Facebook posting, which explicated some reasons why they do not start relationships after 30. It said that one's romantic experiences and distractions of life prevent him/her from wasting his/her energy for such high-stress low-return task. It made me depressed that Renoir, an artist who lived from Belle Époque to the two world wars to the Cold War, might have lost any belief in psychological understanding between individuals. Stories and films praise the sincere love, but how much do we know each other thoroughly? What else do we believe in other than romance?: the golden coach? Or a religion of daisy? If not, stardom and recognition? No matter how much the heroines, and we, suffer from these questions, the world looks so calm and consistent. The three films of Renoir make us stop and look back upon what we might have missed.

     

Sunday, April 24, 2016

Eye in the Sky (2015)

Director: Gavin Hood

Writer: Guy Hibbert

Production: Raindog Films, Entertainment One

Starring: Helen Mirren, Alan Rickman


     The film unfolds the procedure of a UK-US joint counter-terrorist operation. Their initial plan was to capture two British and one American who flied to Kenya to join a terrorist group, but as it is revealed that they will take part in a suicide attack, the executives change the plan to kill them by using an UAV (unmanned aerial vehicle) raid.

     Remote intervention in modern warfare was already depicted in Patriot Games (1992), but only with infrared images and close ups, it showed how much war can be indifferent and cold regardless of its impact. On the other hand, this film dissects the procedure of decision-making and foregrounds the gravity of the military campaign. As Laura Mulvey explicated, the film destroys the pleasure of spectacle by analyzing its procedure. This leads us to re-perceive the recent news about U.S. air raid on ISIS. We see such news every month and now it became somewhat commonplace. They say "U.S. air raid kills IS No. 2 (or something)"... and we casually think how powerful the U.S is and how easy to crash terrorists is. But this film reveals what kind of attempts and conflicts are at stake around a single attack.

     It also shows how much people are susceptible to image. [Spoiler] Colonel Powell lets her officer to manipulate the estimated casualty rate to get approval to attack from the headquarters. Her man emphasizes that it is merely an estimation and she says that she acknowledges it. However, as the casualty analysis is shown to the headquarters members in a diagram, they become convinced so easily. Through image, possibility becomes a fixed "truth". Its impact is so crucial because the heads kept tossing the responsibility to each other before the display of diagram. Ultimately, the film questions where the responsibility resides in the Fordistically fragmented warfare. The lives in the underdeveloped nation is determined not by someone in the site of battle but by those in quiet offices or someone in a cell with a joystick. In this sense, this film magnifies previously marginalized entities such as the indigenous residents and agents, who have been depicted in mainstream films as being primitive or gifted by Pax Americana. Showing the Mo'Allims firstly on the ending credits sequence can be understood by the same token. 

     Overall, it is not a tiring film. The director builds up thrill by constantly playing with the interaction between inside and outside of the frame. It is ironic that such shows the futility of vision despite the existence of various cutting-edge surveillance devices. And the entire film is wholly filled with such ironies like Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove. I bet you will enjoy it.

Saturday, February 27, 2016

Like for Likes (좋아해줘) (2016)


Director: Park Hyun-jin

Writer: Yoo Yeong-ah

Production CO.: Liyang Film

Distributor: CJ Entertainment

Starring: Yoo Ah-in, Choi Ji-woo, Lee Mi-yeon, Kang Ha-neul


     At the very beginning, this film clarifies its relation to Facebook. The opening credits sequence, of which design reflects its orientation to Facebook, is followed by the first scene in which Kang Ha-neul (the musician henceforth) and EJ communicates via a social media service. This is an unnecessary introduction of relationship because, whereas the musician is deaf, he can converse with others quite naturally by reading their lips. Nevertheless, the director consistently posited Facebook at  several crucial narrative points to let it push the narrative forward. However, the film's view on Facebook is too optimistic to persuade spectators who already know its negative impact on modern society.

     Unfortunately, its excessive optimism is not the real problem. On the contrary to the filmmaker's direction, the actual significance of Facebook is so trivial that the spectator doubts the reason why it is frequently shown. At least superficially, the director tries to describe the phenomenon in modern society that the social network service generates. The characters strive to intrigue or test one another, and get depressed when they do not receive a desirable response. However, since the filmmaker has too much of ambition to praise the value of Facebook, he eventually harms the logistics of the entire film. The narrative is severely fabricated to combine distant characters, who hardly have met each other, through Facebook. As a result, the Facebook sequences turn out to be unfaithful to our reality, and what the spectator only sees are expositions of brand-new devices.

     At this point, one can argue that this film did not have to mainly deal with Facebook because it is basically a diegetic device to unfold romance. However, the romance itself is loose and unreasonable. For instance, the initial relationship between Kim Joo-hyuk (the chef henceforth) and Choi Ji-woo (the flight attendant or the attendant henceforth) was that of a tenant and a landlord. But after the chef breaks up with his girlfriend and the attendant was embezzled, the two strangers become housemates, only because they feel themselves "too pitiful". There is no pain from the aftermath of break, nor financial obstacles. Such elements are briefly suggested by direct quotes but have no impact on the characters. Given this, they seem like living in the wonderland where they don't need to labor and the verisimilitude of the film becomes void. This flaw is also observable from the other couples. The sub-narrative between Yoo Ah-in (the actor hereafter) and Lee Mi-yoen (the writer hereafter) has no concern of the effect after their revelation while the musician and Lee Som (the PD henceforth) 's love is simply explicated by love-at-first-sight.

     The romance of this film is loose because the filmmaker's direction was loose on a false assumption that the conventional melodramatic norms would function strongly. Then what is the norm?: fetish of absence.

     I call this "fetish" because various absences in this film were used to explicate the obsessions among characters. Below is a list of absences that exist in each relationship.

The actor & the writer: Absence of father
The chef & the attendant: Absence of mother
The musician & the PD: Absence of normal physicality (= disability)

     The second absence on the list actually belongs to none of them. It functions too histrionically to combine all characters. For that pitiful reason, the chef inevitably became a pretentious man to find the lost child. Among the three couples, the worst is the third one since the filmmaker fetishizes the musician's physical disability. Indeed, his disability is not truly understood by the PD but rather functions as an archetypal point that enables her to possess him. Eventually, the two reconcile at an airport but what she really cherishes turns out to be his facial appearance: "I forgive you because you are handsome". This is a pathetic commodification of disability, not an insightful consideration of condition of love.

     As a result, remained are close up shots of top stars and excessive emphases on product placements (PPL). Of course, it is a reasonable formula to present such close ups to let the film pay itself because CJ is the distributor, and it casted both Korean wave stars like Yoo Ah-in and other domestic stars. I have no idea if the director was too preoccupied to that formula or abandoned control over the production due to overwhelming intervention by CJ. Nevertheless, he blurred most of backgrounds by exaggerated use of soft focus. Ironically, such blurring was not completely bad because there was no trace of human living in those nascent locations. Those were rather like model houses for apartment promotion. Anyway, due to the excessive blurring, I thought that I was seeing rear projection scene that was loved by classical Hollywood filmmakers during the golden age. I praise the director's courage to revere the classical maestros in 21st century.

     At the same time, I was surprised that the focus did never miss any product placement. In this sense, it was the most hilarious moment when the writer quit her job after leaving a text: "Stop being distracted by PPL and focus on the quality of your work." Maybe it could be the director's sarcastic self-reflexive representation.

     Were the players' performances exceptional? So-so (but not all of them). However, all of them
merely exhausted their pre-existed image.

     I was embarrassed when some audiences left during the screening. However, some others were actively responding to the film panting and mourning, so I thought this film at least succeeded to satisfied a certain pool of spectators. I appreciate AMC Empire enormously for screening such film gently.




Monday, February 22, 2016

Marco Polo: Season 1 (2014)


Director: David Petrarca, et al.

Writers: John Fusco, et al.

Production Co.: Electus, Weinstein company

Distributor: Netflix

Starring: Benedict Wong, Olivia Cheng, Lorenzo Richelmy, Claudia Kim


   In this international era, there will be no better subject to deal with a westerner's adventure in Asia than Marco Polo. Some say that his travelogue was not real but merely a transcription of exotic fables. But let's forget about the historical righteousness. What we want to see is the splendor of the great empire through a merchant's eyes. Since he was not a invader, there's almost (but not completely) nothing to stop this drama to penetrate Asian markets.

   It is interesting to see a western character kowtow in front of a Mongolian King (Khan or Khagan) because it generates a subversive relationship between the west and the east. However, west-centric point of view is still observable. And it should be observable because it is basically an American TV drama. However his status is humble and circumstance severe, he is specially cared by Kublai Khan, investigates the hidden conspiracies around the throne, and frequently encounters romance wherever he goes. This is possible because he is an accepted surrogate of the spectator. This is manifested by a number of exotic, erotic, or luxurious sequences strengthened by the Khagan's quotes in the end of the very first episode: "A man who proves his loyalty to me can take whatever he wishes. You may not [...] Look, but do not touch." (emphasis added)

   However, the drama does not represent outmoded oriental voyeurism. Frequent representation of naked female body hints commodification of femininity. That commodification being said, it includes a broad range of activities such as prostitution, sexual servitude, negotiation, and espionage. Due to the commodification, a number of main female characters present their fragmented psychology. For example, Episode 6 starts with a flashback revealing how a female servant pretended to be her mistress, Princess Kokachin after her suicide. After opening credit sequence, the main episode shows her being adorned by her guardian. Her image is reflected on a mirror, but due to its crude surface, her reflection is inevitably distorted. This visually represents her ambivalent state. Though she is well treated by the Mongolian monarchy thanks to her noble blood, she is basically captured as a hostage. Whereas she socializes to adjust in the noble Mongolian society, she conspires to avenge her late mistress. Such immobility of her reinforces her relationship with Marco Polo. Laura Mulvey argued in her essay "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema", in accordance with phallocentric psychoanalysis, "woman symbolizes her castration threat by her real absence of penis" so that "she raises her child into the symbolic"(712). Since she cannot transcend from her castrated status, she turns her child as her surrogate to fulfill her desire indirectly. Likewise, Kokachin's immobility is contrasted to Polo's mobility. Although they don't have intimate relationship yet, her gaze to Polo seems to contain jealousy and admiration.

   In a larger point of view, the narrative structure is fragmented as well. The narration of the drama is not solely focalized on characters in Mongolian Empire. The narration mingles around Polo, Mongolians, Chinese, and even Muslims (Kublai's ministers). It can be possibly perceived as being dispersed but in a positive point of view, this is a fairly progressive effort to shed light on figures who were overlooked in the great tide of history.

   On top of that, what is most significant is the linguistic incorporation of ethnicities and talents. The main players are Native Chinese or Chinese-westerner. Benedict Wong (Kublai Khan) is a Chinese-British, Olivia Cheng (Mei Lin) is a Chinese-American, Zhu Zhu (Kokachin) is a native Chinese. Two performers from other ethnic group were encompassed in this huge entity of "Mongolian" (Rick Yune (Kaidu) is a Korean-American and Claudia Kim (Khutulun) is a Korean). Chin Han, who played a poor capitalist in The Dark Knight, reconfigures a conventionally blamed feckless general-politician to a vicious and mindless but cunning chancellor Jia Sidao. However, this conflation of talents is not the central issue. What is more crucial is the rearrangement of the Eastern world in English. For example, there is a Mongolian character, who is supposed to be called "Bayan" in the native sense, is actually named as "One Hundred Eyes". (This is too silly. It is like translating Thomas Jefferson as "One of the twelve disciples who is son of Jeffer".) Not only their name but also metrics are readjusted in English criteria. In the middle of Episode 6, as Polo makes inaccurate shots, One Hundred Eyes says: "Untrue by a inch, untrue by a mile." I believe this reconfiguration represents Netflix's, or in a larger viewpoint, Hollywood's confidence of its cultural clout. In other words, it swaggers its ability to incorporate and reorganized what has been foreign to it. To be honest, this intimidates me because it hints a stealth inauguration of cultural power game between two big brothers. I have no idea if any of Chinese entertainment products showed such broad inclusion of foreign culture. There were several instances in which some Western characters aids or resists the hero but they were too trivial. Consequently, this drama makes me expect China's next move.

Work cited: Mulvey, Laura. "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" in Film Theory & Criticism. Ed. Leo Baudry and Marshall Cohen, Oxford University Press: New York, 2009. 711-722.

Friday, February 19, 2016

A.K. (1985)


Director: Chris Marker

Writer: Chris Marker

Production: Greenwich Film Productions, Herald Ace, Nippon Herald Films


     This is a visual commentary on Kurosawa Akira. Not about a specific work of him nor his general methodology of filmmaking but about his uniqueness as an auteur. Chris Marker follows the trajectory of production of Ran, Kurosawa's film in 1985. He does not begin his documentary on the first day of production. Nor does he conclude it at the end of the production. He only focuses on a few days during which Kurosawa shot spectacle scenes, which might have been the harshest part, in Mount Fuji. 

     What Marker really cares is several categories through which we can define Kurosawa's world. And ultimately, they reveal Kurosawa's personal ideas such as his preference of horses, perfection, wisdom, meticulousness. Several things in the film reminded me of certain "fantasies" of the film director. Kurosawa is depicted as a mobile artist. He relentlessly wanders around the set, talks directly with both main players and extras, cares his crew's welfare. I called this "fantasy" because, I feel, nowadays film directors are fixed in front of their monitor. Thanks to walkie-talkie, the film director can order his players on his chair. A director who moves to communicate with his crew is possibly considered inefficient or amateur. On the other hand, Kurosawa's work looks slow, labor-intensified as this documentary is. From this, I could feel confidence. Also his obsession to perfection. Thus this documentary did not need to comprehend the entire procedure of filmmaking. Because such confidence easily comes from a master's daily practice. To wrap up, in this sense, this documentary is, for me, nostalgic. 

Saturday, January 30, 2016

Turandot (2015-2016), Aura and Film's Authenticity


Conductor: Paolo Carignani

Turandot: Nina Stemme
Liu: Anita Hartig
Calaf: Marco Berti
Timur: Alexander Tsymbalyuk

   In my life so far, there has been only a few things in my bucket list. I was totally indifferent anything but myself, so naturally, there has been nothing particularly interesting. Fortunately, I could come here, New York and NYU, and it opened my perspective vastly. That was the moment when I started longing for Turandot. Last summer, I watched Tom Cruise's Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation, which borrowed its leitmotif from Turandot. The two leading characters' interchanging relationship represented both romantic and incompatible aspects of secret agents. Finally, I could see this opera today, as my self-birthday-gift, at Lincoln Center Opera House.

   Calaf is an exiled prince who unexpectedly meets his father Timur, a superseded king, in ancient China. Timur lost his vision from a battle but could survive thanks to a female servant, Liu. China is ruled by a merciless princess Turandot, who beheads every suitor. Initially, Calaf deplores such tyranny, but as soon as he sees the princess' beauty, he becomes enthralled. After solving Turandot's three mysterious riddles, he declares that if she can tell his name until next morning, she will not be obliged to marry him. On the verge of his victory, he nervously waits the morning to come. However, the princess torments his father and Liu to know his name. For her master's happiness, Liu sacrifices her life by herself and this action makes the princess realize what true love is. Finally, she accepts Calaf's love and happily marries him.

   I once watched this opera on Met VOD (Metropolitan Opera Video On Demand), but seeing directly was obviously different from seeing in a small computer screen. Set design highly emphasized height and depth of the stage, so that it made the princess and the emperor seem inaccessible and sublime. Especially, when the golden palace was revealed in "Gravi, enromi ed imponenti", astounded audiences applauded though that score was not finished. I was one of them. The stage setting was undoubtedly artificial. However, I could not help but be fascinated by the magnificence that the opera propagated. Such actuality was something that I could not acquire in a film theater.

   Also, Anita Hartig, who played Liu, presented authentic performance. Specifically, leading a 9-minute solo, "Tu che di gel sei cinta - Liu bonta!", without any boredom was literally extraordinary. With this score, she conveyed infallible sacrifice of the humble servant and touched me. From the above-mentioned set design and Hartig's breathtaking devotion, I could feel a kind of aura today.

   However, Marco Berti's Calaf was not compelling. The biggest reason why I wanted to see this opera was definitely "Nessun dorm!". When it was played, I was all ears with my hands folded together. Disappointingly, I could not sense any emotional eruption from Berti because of his timid devotion.  And I think the others felt in the same way since no one ventured to applaud though his solo was finished. Overall, Berti's performance made the whole opera partly mediocre by deteriorating other outstanding points that are mentioned above.

   Consequently, this experience made me consider the concept of aura. Defining aura, Walter Benjamin related aura to "authenticity" and "the her and now of the original". Precisely, he defined aura as "the unique apparition of a distance, however near it may be". I am still not sure what kind of distance he indicated, but I guess that he meant the distance between a recipient and an art work which marked an outstanding moment in history. In this sense, the 1987 version of Turandot, in which Plácido Domingo played Calaf, can be considered to possess an aura, due to matchless performance of him and other partners whereas this 2015 version lacks it. However, now I am skeptical of Benjamin' statement:

In the light of this description, we can readily grasp the social basis of the aura's present decay. It rests on two circumstances, both linked to the increasing emergence of the masses and the growing intensity of their movements. Namely: the desire of the present-day masses to "get closer" to things, and their equally passionate concern for overcoming each thing's uniqueness by assimilating it as a reproduction. [...] by means of reproduction, it extracts sameness even from what is unique.
(Critical Visions in Film Theory, eds. Timothy Corrigan, et al, Bedford/St. Martin's, Boston: 2011 ,233-234. Emphasis original)

   It is true that the result of filmmaking does not possess actuality - that is, "the here and now" - because it was photographed and edited prior to spectatorship. And throughout reproduction, any audience can experience exactly the same quality. However, theatrical actuality is easily accomplished because of its intimate distance from the audience. In other words, production of theatrical art becomes a moment of consumption immediately.

   Nevertheless, such immediacy is not a spontaneous expression of an artist's talent. A successful stage show is a result of countless rehearsals. I assume a theater artist's state on the stage is an overlapped sum of various possibilities, which can be varied by his/her practices and other circumstances. For instance, even though Plácido Domingo has prepared his performance hundreds of times, if he fails to touch the audience due to his illness, the very show will not be authentic. 

   On the other hand, a movie is an extracted essence of authenticity. To pursue perfection in their profession, the filmmakers do not hesitate to photograph the same shot for hundreds of takes. In this case, "the here and now" does not exist in the prospect spectator's point of view. Instead, the filmmakers contain their "here and now" in their work. Thanks to the camera, filmmakers present the actual sites in which they recorded such moments as a sunset on the seashore, the first kiss of lovers, or tragic crime against a  victim. And thanks to cinema's reproducibility, this essence can be inherited to next generations intactly. It is irony that we can feel Plácido Domingo's aura via the recorded video of his 1987 performance.

   Therefore, I argue that aura is not an medium-specific concept. Although this conclusion is superficial, I think this might be able to stave off unjust prejudices, which downplay cinema a mere reproduction of reality or a relatively easier art form. In addition, I think that other arguments regarding the verisimilitude of CGI can be stemmed from this interpretation of aura. If cinematic reality can be also defined as an aura, it is debatable if CGI lacks authenticity.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Kundo: Age of the Rampant (2014)


Director: Yoon Jong-bin

Writer: Jeon Cheol-hong

Production Co.: Moonlight film, Showbox/Mediaplex

Starring: Ha Jung-woo, Kang Dong-won, Lee Sung-min


   Yoon Jong-bin is one of the hottest Korean filmmakers. From his problematic debut The Unforgiven, he has scrutinized a variety of contradictory social systems. For example, The Unforgiven, he dealt with military service, which is inevitable to Korean males; and extravagant nightlife in Beastie Boys; corrupt Korean society in '80s in Nameless Gangster: Rules of the Time. Likewise, an old aristocratic society, which begot severe inequities, is dissected in a framework of vengeance story. Its subject matter is also related to current trend in which a number of Korean creative works represent either anger to social inequity or hope to supplant it.

   In terms of this film's form, the Western style is partially observable. For instance, the horse riding mob in both opening and ending sequences invokes outlaws in the Western, due to the camera movement and deserted landscape. Also, other elements such as extreme zoom-in/out and transition between big close-up shots are worth noting. However, the film is more influenced by Wuxia genre. Not to mention its vengeance code, representation of characteristics via individual weapons is also a trait of Wuxia genre. It is the fast and dynamic duel sequences that generate imagery tension. However, enhancing such tension is the different qualities of weapons. For example, characters using a huge sword or a heavy mace present their outstanding strength. On the other hand, the other characters with smaller and subtler weapons try to overwhelm the former with speed and accuracy. 

   To be honest, there is not much room for considering social inequity since this is more an entertainment film than an arthouse movie. However, Jo Yoon's (Kang Dong-won) ambivalent character invokes a question: who is noble? who is lowlife? what distinguishes between these two?

   The most powerful strength of this film is its valued actors. Not only the leads but also supporting players has performed for a significant time, and some of them has worked with the director. Especially, Yoon Ji-hye, who acquired fame from some television series, plays Mi-hyang and expresses a different spectrum.

   [Spoiler] However, it is the film's abrupt plot in the last 30 minutes that deteriorates its advantage. After compiling all attractive characters, Yoon suddenly kills most of protagonists, even though he could have deepened his characters after their Pyrrhic victory upon aristocrats. What makes this transition abrupt is a previous dilemma that was coerced to Ddaeng-choo (Lee Kyeong-yeong). After being captured by Jo Yoon, he is forced to choose either to reveal his fellows'  haven or to sacrifice innocent peasants of the town, Najoo. As Jo Yoon kills five peasants, Ddaeng-choo changes his mind and tell him where the haven is. Dilemma resonates only when every choice is indispensable. However, at this point, it is hard to say that saving his comrades is equivalent to saving innocent people. This is because not only his comrades but also children in their haven will be killed as a result. In other words, he abandons his neighbors too easily only to save strangers. Consequently, this unreliable element weakens the later part of the narrative.

   It is transparent that Yoon tried to bypass conventional story in which an outstanding hero restores peace. He emphasizes ordinary people's power to change their world. Nevertheless, [Spoiler] using a gatling in the climax was a too easy resolution to defeat evil extras. The film's temporal background is much earlier that the American Civil War. Even though you do not give a damn to such historical facts, I still feel it like a deus ex machina

   Yet, it is undeniable that Yoon is one of the most creative Korean film directors. I just feel sorry that this could have been better if he maintained his talent and effort until the end.

Friday, January 22, 2016

The Revenant (2015)


Director: Alejandro González Iñárritu

Writer: Mark L. Smith, A.G. Iñárritu

Production Co.: New Regency Pictures, et al.

Starring: Leonardo Dicaprio, Tom Hardy, Domhnall Gleeson


   Simply, it can be regarded as a "sequel of The Avatar in the early days of America". The hero is a man on the border between civilization and wilderness. This outsider, once punished by the mother nature, seeks to avenge his only son. There are no hidden clue or reversal, but animalistic suffering and killing.

   The most important point in this film is the gravity of life and death. Alejandro G. Iñárritu delivers this through three ways: long take, close up, and special effects. First, long take shots confer verisimilitude to the actions. Especially, the first long take shot in the earliest battle is significant because the camera presents ephemerality of life by mingling from the killer to the killed. Secondly, the director employed a number of close up shot to make spectator look around multiplicity of characters' appearance. By this, he suggests us to focus on their sufferings and anger instead of the story or tempo. In my point of view, this is a similar strategy that was used in Les Misérables, which drew its narrative with close up and music scores to encourage narrative-oriented auds. However, it is not reasonable if we do not pay equal attention to VFX (stands for Visual Effects) because that brings reality and sensation throughout the film. It is mandatory to witness the scene where Glass (Leonard DiCaprio) faces his first adversity while leading his fellows back to the town. What VFX bring ultimately is brutality of human beings.

   Basically, its semantic elements make it plausible to categorize this film to the Western. As I mentioned above, Glass is posited between two different groups. However, because of the brutality that is brought by VFX, the distinction between wilderness and civilization is blurred. As a result, it leads us to consider what civilization is and what a human being is. In addition to this, Iñárritu added a religious message on top of his western story by comparing human's vulnerability and overwhelming Providence. Providence is evident in several points in which it is hard to explain how Glass's life is saved. On the other hand, any human values - violence, contract, business, and so on - are not effective to bind the characters and to bring peace. Consequently, unlike a typical Western hero who retrieves peace by violence, Glass finds his peace in god (not God). This film alludes contemporary circulation of violence all over the world.

   It generates tremendous interest if DiCaprio will finally win best actor Oscar. In fact, I doubt it. It is difficult to distinguish actor's passion and character's perfection. Although DiCaprio went through various obstacles, what I mainly witnessed from Glass are yelling, groaning, mourning, staring, fighting. Maybe this negative feeling is due either to the frequent usage of foreign languages or to the guy who intermittently kicked my chair from the back row.

Thursday, January 21, 2016

The 5th Wave (2016)


Director: J Blakeson

Writers: Susannah Grant, Akiva Goldman, Jeff Pinker
(based on the novel of Rick Yancey)

Production Co.: Columbia Pictures

Starring: Chloë Grace Moretz, Nick Robinson, Ron Livingston


   Interestingly, this film reminds me of a Bradley Cooper movie, Burnt, which I reviewed a few months ago. Although they belong to totally different genre, both films are similar in terms of their strategy to target audience. While employing conventional and proved plot, they boast their main player (Cooper and Moretz, respectively) to intrigue moviegoers. Unfortunately, Burnt turned out to be a flop since it just kept showing Cooper yelling. On the other hand, it seems that The 5th Wave will not experience the same case.

   Figuratively, this film is a mediation between The Hunger Games and The Twilight. The film adjusts well to recent trend of independent juvenile heroes. Unlike other young hero movies such as The Maze Runner or Ender's Game, in which kids are coerced to be soldiers either covertly (the former) or indirectly (the latter) or symbolically (The Hunger Games), the young characters in this film are obliged to stand on the front line directly. Although all these films share the same sarcasm of exploitation of younger generation, the mood of The 5th Wave is less grievous. Instead, the filmmakers blended teenager romance in the story, like The Twilight. However, they do not stay too much on the romance, and stick to their original problem: survival.

   Due to such light atmosphere, lack of causal relation is palpable in some parts, especially in the sequence where Cassie (Chloë Moretz) rescues her younger brother. But, that's fairly tolerable because the film is balanced well between serious subject matter and exciting spectacle. Sometimes it is doubtful of what Cassie really wants. However, the filmmakers did not venture to explain it in two hours. They were clever enough to conclude this film at a proper point. Although somewhat too optimistic perspective seems naive, I expect this will be a fine beginning of a new sci-fi serial. Whether some scenes are silly or not, Chloë Grace Moretz compensates all flaw. And more importantly, this film gives us a hopeful message: if you are pretty enough as Moretz, you can easily survive a pandemic disaster!

Spectre (2015)


Director: Sam Mendes

Writers: John Logan, Neal Pulvis and two more

Production Co.: Eon productions
(+ various copyright holders)

Starring: Daniel Craig, Léa Saydoux


   This latest Double-o-seven film was released in Halloween season. On the contrary to its trailer and poster, the main plot is not necessarily unfolded on that event. Anyway, this movie is a finale of Craig's James Bond quadrilogy. Unlike previous 007 series, this quadrilogy is structured as a serial. Therefore, without knowledge of the former three episodes - Casino Royale (2006), Quantum of Solace (2008), and Skyfall (2012) - it is a bit hard to comprehend the story of this one.

   This modification of format is relevant to that of casting. Daniel Craig already announced that he would not play James Bonds any more. However, Sam Mendes' attempt to incorporate four different episodes in a long serial seems to be less organized. Although its visceral elements have survived throughout the serial, some others, which could have been profoundly developed, were neglected. For example, in Quantum of Solace, the film described as a number of international politicians were involved in the evil organization Quantum and it seemed that Quantum would disrupt the world in a complicated manner. However, the biggest conspiracy in this quadrilogy turns out to be, in fact, simpler than expected. The narrative is not the only thing that is simple, but also the characters (both the good and the bad). Most crucially, since there is no overwhelming villain, except the evil boss Blofeld (Christoph Waltz), the trajectory to the boss is filled with less exciting action sequences and some predictable humors. Mr. Hinx (Dave Bautista) is more powerful than Bond, but without his strength, this character does not have any particular trait. Blofeld is undoubtedly an attractive villain. He is gentle, but also cold-blooded and merciless. However, his motivation of global conspiracy is somewhat silly because it is too individual. Even the protagonists are simplistic. To put it simply, they  just do what they are supposed to do. On the other hand, the sequences of such other characters as M (Ralph Fiennes) and Q (Ben Whishaw) provide more tension.

   What fills the paucities is the actors' performances and the characters' psychological stories. That does not justify less creative action sequences, which were expected in this film. From the climax sequence, I felt that the filmmakers might had merely wanted to finish the serial. To get it straightforward, it should not have been like a Steven Seagal movie.
 

Monday, January 18, 2016

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)


Director: J. J. Abrams

Writers: Lawrence Kasdan, J. J. Abrams, Michael Arndt

Production Co.: Disney

Starring: Daisy Ridley, John Boyega, Adam Driver


   Star Wars: The Force Awakens (The Force henceforth) sheds light on what has been looked over. In previous episodes of Star Wars, they have been indifferent to intimate difficulties of characters. Yes, we all know Anakin and Luke had suffered from absence of parents' love. The other characters also had faced their own psychological problems. What I indicate here is the characters' material and tangible struggle in everyday life. In this sense, The Force is quite subtle that it presents how long Rey has spent in AT-AT, how she works, and what she eats. Through such descriptions, the film makes the audience sympathize to Rey's loneliness and her desire to go back to Jakku for waiting her parents. For example, in the scene where she eats Again, this is what has not been achieved in this series previously.

   J. J. Abrams conferred novelty to this film by presenting improved relationships. Rey, obviously, denies conventional feminine character which has functioned as an object. On the contrary, Fin represents immature boy trying to be close physically to the girl whom he falls in love at first sight. Fin's dilemma between running away from First Order and staying with Rey consequently develops his maturity. Other relationships, such as those between Leia and Han, or Han and Chewbacca, invokes nostalgia that satisfies the old fans.

   However, I cannot say this one as attractive as the former episodes, due to its lack of cinematic perfection. In terms of narrative, what determines perfection of a film is causal relation. Although the filmic causal relation do not have to be equal to that of reality, at least the narrative should introduce basic elements to explain what comes further. For example, the dogfight between TIE fighters and Falcon is visually exciting. However, since there is no explanation of Rey's adept flying before the sequence nor after, it weakens the film's logistics. Most of Rey's qualities (such as mind-trick, lightsaber duel) are not explicated throughout the film. As a result, it is hard to feel any tension when she confronts a crisis because everything will be resolved even though she does not know how to do. Eventually, she is the central reason that collapsed Kylo Ren's character. It becomes questionable how Kylo Ren, who is defeated by a former stormtrooper and a novice force-sensitive, could ruin the New Jedi Order, which was constructed by Luke Skywalker. Some attributes his defeat to his injury by Chewbacca and his intention to turn Rey to the dark side. However, that is the very point that makes this villain idiotic. Both Snoke and he acknowledge that he must complete training. His incompleteness makes his trial to seduce Rey nonsense. How can an apprentice like him teach someone? Also, if he needs more practice, how could he destroy the Jedi Order? He is sandwiched in a dilemma between being a powerful Sith apprentice and a ham-handed juvenile delinquent.

   Fundamentally, what critically dismantled the quality of The Force is predestined directions. As above-mentioned statements, Rey magically realizes how to use the Force because she is chosen by Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber! I have never had an idea if a lightsaber possesses its own will. Predestined directions also affect the actors' performance. [Spoiler] At the climax, Kylo Ren walks toward a bridge in the middle of the power facility and Han follows him. It is unnatural because Kylo Ren has no motivation to be on the bridge. Then Rey and Fin enters and the light dramatically illuminates Han and Kylo Ren. Everyone is watching, but no shooting, no talk. The other characters are just posited to witness the two characters' interaction. This composition of elements makes the scene like a well-drawn still image of a comic book, but definitely, it is histrionic. It is clear when this scene is compared to "I am your father" scene in The Empire Strikes Back. Although Luke and Vader stand in the middle of the space as Han and Kylo Ren, it is perfectly motivated because Vader put Luke in the dead end throughout their duel. Unlike Luke and Vader's duel, it seems Kylo Ren just moved to the center because J. J. Abrams told him so. In other words, it represents inept subordination of performance to narrative, which only heads to ending crudely.

   Ironically, the worst part in this film is its final battle scene. First, it was naive to copy the same crisis, same strategy from A New Hope. The evil side builds a super weapon again and the resistance attacks it in the same way. Moreover, since the focal point is divided into two points, the tension of dogfight becomes loose. Simply, the X-wing fighter merely exist to explode the super weapon. Although they do countdown, the film does not generate the same anxiety that was presented in A New Hope.

   Some assert that J. J. Abrams, the director of Lost, intentionally loosened the film to remain questions for the next episode. However, when too much questions are remained, it hardly becomes tolerable to some audiences. To prepare a sequel, it should maintain self-closedness to a certain extent. Furthermore, it is illogical to undermine evident flaws of the present one while expecting the future one to cover them. Textual perfection of the present film should be discussed based on the present text. Therefore, I think this film is not as satisfactory as other Star Wars films. Nevertheless, it seems that watching this series now became a cultural ritual rather than an ordinary spectatorial experience.