New York Asian Film Festival Confirms 2023 Lineup

New York Asian Film Festival returns for its 22nd edition with another packed programme of recent East Asian cinema hits screening at Lincoln Center & Barrymore Film Center July 14 – 30. This year the festival will pay tribute to director Zhang Wei, while Junji Sakamoto will receive the Screen International Star Asia Lifetime Achievement Award, Ryohei Suzuki the Screen International Rising Star Asia Award, and Louis Koo the Extraordinary Star Asia Award. 

China

  • Art College 1994 – A collection of art students mull over the big questions while floundering in the complicated mid-90s society in Liu Jian’s nostalgic animation. Review.
  • The Cord of Life – a folktronica musician embarks on a roadtrip with his mother after learning she has Alzheimer’s.
  • Flaming Cloud – whimsical romantic fantasy in which a young man is cursed causing all who kiss him to fall into a deep sleep.
  • A Woman – dramatisation of Zhang Xiuzhen’s semi-autobiographical novel charting a woman’s life through the cultural revolution into the new China of the 1980s.

Filmmaker in Focus: Zhang Wei

  • Empty Nest – drama in which an elderly woman bonds with a young man selling healthcare products.
  • Factory Boss – drama following the owner of a toy factory contending with economic crisis.
  • Redemption with Life – drama from Zhang Wei in which the friendship between three bikers is tested by a series of get-rich-quick schemes.
  • The Rib (Director’s Cut) – drama in which a transwoman contends with her conservative father whose signature she needs in order to get confirmation surgery. Review.

Hong Kong

  • A Light Never Goes Out – a mother and a daughter take very different paths in trying to come to terms with grief in Anastasia Tsang’s poignant drama. Review.
  • Back Home – folk horror in which a young man returns from Canada when his estranged mother falls into a coma.
  • Everyphone Everywhere – zeitesty drama in which three middle-aged friends reunite 25 years after high school as one prepares to go abroad.
  • In Broad Daylight – drama in which an investigative journalist goes undercover at a home for the disabled.
  • Mad Fate – mad cap supernatural noir in which a fortune teller and “born psychopath” team up to solve a murder.
  • Nomad – Heavily censored on its release, Patrick Tam’s 1982 classic stars a young Leslie Cheung as an aimless young man from a wealthy family who spends his time hanging out with friends at the beach until his cousin’s romance with a fugitive from the Japanese Red Army threatens to upset their idle days. Review.
  • The Sunny Side of the Street – An embittered taxi driver is forced to reflect on his prejudices and relationships after getting into a vendetta with a refugee in Lau Kok-rui’s melancholy drama. Review.
  • Vital Signs – drama starring Louis Koo as an earnest paramedic.
  • The White Storm 3: Heaven or Hell – the third installment in Herman Yau’s thematic series starring Louis Koo, Aaron Kwok, and Lau Ching-Wan.

Japan

  • #Manhole – a salaryman’s moment of triumph is disrupted when he falls down a manhole the night before his wedding in Kazuyoshi Kumakiri’s unhinged B-movie thriller. Review.
  • December – Bereaved parents are confronted by the unresolved past when the woman who killed their daughter appeals her sentence in Anshul Chauhan’s empathetic courtroom drama. Review.
  • Egoist – a fashion editor reflects on the nature of love after falling for a personal trainer in Daishi Matsunaga’s deeply moving romantic drama. Review.
  • A Hundred Flowers – An expectant father finds himself confronted with paternal anxiety and past trauma on learning that his mother has been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in Genki Kawamura’s adaptation of his own novel. Review.
  • In Her Room – eerie drama in which a shy dentist falls for a mysterious woman.
  • Mayhem Girls – pandemic-era drama in which a group of high school girls suddenly develop superpowers.
  • Motherhood – Ryuichi Hiroki adapts the Kanae Minato novel revolving around the complicated relationship between a mother and a daughter.
  • Mountain Woman – a young woman walks into the mountains to die but unexpectedly discovers what it is to feel truly human in Takeshi Fukunaga’s bleak folk tale. Review.
  • Okiku and the World – a samurai’s daughter falls for a lowly manure man in a city on the brink of change in Junji Sakamoto’s touching dramedy. Review.

Malaysia

  • Abang Adik – drama centring on the relationship between two orphaned young men.

Philippines

  • 12 Weeks – drama in which a woman attempts to secure a safe abortion in a fiercely pro-life culture.
  • I Love You, Beksman – a flamboyant hairdresser scandalises his family when he comes out as straight after falling for a beauty queen in Percival M. Intalan’s ironic comedy. Review.
  • Where Is the Lie? – drama in which a transwoman is targeted by cyberbullies.

South Korea

  • Bear Man – surreal comedy in which two bears managed by the North Korean Institute of Technology disappear one day.
  • Dream – inspiration sporting drama in which a washed up footballer agrees to coach a team of homeless men.
  • Extreme Festival – the CEO of a small events planning firm finds herself in the firing line after agreeing to organise the local cultural festival.
  • Greenhouse – gritty drama starring Kim Seo-hyung as a woman pushed to impossible extremes.
  • Hail to Hell – black comedy in which a young couple planning to take their own lives decide to get revenge on their bully instead.
  • The Host – Bong Joon Ho’s classic monster movie.
  • Killing Romance – madcap comedy in which a former star (Lee Ha-nee) teams up with a student (Gong Myoung) to kill her husband (Lee Sun-kyun).
  • Phantom – Colonial Era spy thriller meets drawing room mystery in this masterful drama from Lee Hae-young.
  • Rebound – inspirational sporting drama in which a moribund high school basketball team make their way towards championship glory.
  • A Tour Guide – a North Korean defector becomes a guide for Chinese tourists in the South while searching for her missing brother.

Singapore

  • Geylang – crime drama in which a series of cosmic coincidences conspire against residents of Singapore’s red light district.

Taiwan

  • The Abandoned – horror in which a grieving policewoman investigates a series of murders of migrant workers.
  • Bad Education – a night of post-graduation celebration goes awry when teenage boys unwisely assault a gangster in the directorial debut from actor Kai Ko.
  • Gaga – an indigenous family finds its relationships strained when the oldest son decides to run for mayor in Laha Mebow’s warmhearted dramedy. Review.
  • Eye of the Storm – a doctor investigates a mysterious virus.
  • Marry My Dead Body – a police officer discovers a red wedding envelope but soon realises the proposal comes from the other side and it is the ghost of a murdered man who wants to marry him!
  • Miss Shampoo – quirky rom-com from Giddens Ko in which a gangster falls for a hairstylist after she hides him from bad guys.

Thailand

  • Faces of Anne – existential drama in which a woman wakes up on a weird island where her face changes every few minutes.
  • Kitty the Killer – comic book action comedy in which a rookie teams up with a band of female assassins to take revenge for their mentor’s death.
  • You & Me & Me – millennial drama in which the relationship between a pair of twins is disrupted when they fall for the same boy.

Vietnam

  • Glorious Ashes – poetic drama focussing on the lives of three of three women in a poor coastal village.

The New York Asian Film Festival runs from 14th June to 30th July. Full details for all the films are available via the official website where you can also find screening times and ticketing information. You can also keep up with all the latest festival news via the official Facebook Page and Twitter account.

Nomad (烈火青春, Patrick Tam, 1982)

In his 1982 New Wave classic Nomad (烈火青春), director Patrick Tam had intended to reflect on Nietzsche’s Joyful Wisdom along with the concept of the wanderer, a heroic ideal of the emancipated mind which necessitates permanent exile in which it is no longer possible to call any place “home”. It was also he claims a critique of the “mindless embrace of foreign culture” by Hong Kong youth then obsessed with David Bowie and Japan. 

The film’s English title refers to the boat owned by the hero’s father which becomes a symbol of the yearning for escape and for the foreign among the young, but is also imbued with an essential irony thanks to its design which recalls the “black ships” that sailed into the bay of Edo and forced Japan to reopen its doors to the world after 200 years of isolation. The original Chinese title, meanwhile, translates as something like “Burning Youth” and strongly recalls Japan’s Sun Tribe movies of the late 1950s which similarly critiqued aimless post-war youth and the corruptions of pervasive American pop culture as embodied by Coca-Cola and jazz music. Tam makes frequent visual reference to Japanese New Wave youth movies such as Nagisa Oshima’s Cruel Story of Youth while the shocking ending (which was not shot by Tam who had envisioned a bloodier showdown aboard the Nomad) also has shades of Ko Nakahira’s seminal chronicle of post-war ennui, Crazed Fruit. 

Nomad similarly focusses on a collection of aimless youngsters struggling to find direction in pre-Handover Hong Kong. Louis (Leslie Cheung Kwok-Wing) continues to long for his absent mother and often listens to recordings she once made introducing classical music on the radio while a model of the Nomad sits prominently on a shelf in his room. He has posters of David Bowie on the wall, while his cousin Kathy (Pat Ha Man-Jik) puts on the robes of a Japanese Miko and performs a traditional fan dance. Louis is one of the few young people who does not speak the language, but is later fascinated by the work of a Japanese fashion designer featuring swords and samurai armour that he says, in a moment of foreshadowing, only make him think of ritual suicide. 

His life is directly contrasted with that of Pong (Kent Tong Chun-Yip), a young man from a poor family who works as a lifeguard at the local pool which is how he ends up meeting Kathy who in turn fascinates him with her rich girl sense of confidence and invincibility. The desire to find a place of their own is emphasised by the constant frustration their repeated attempts to make love in Pong’s family apartment which everyone has generously agreed to vacate so he can bring a girl home only for his younger brother to prank him and his dad to come home early inviting half the neighbourhood over for mahjong. The couple eventually have sex on the empty top deck of a tram, another symbol of transience, and then repeatedly in several other public locations until the relationship is disrupted by the return of Kathy’s former boyfriend, Shinsuke (Yung Sai-Kit), who has deserted the Japanese Red Army and is now a fugitive ironically looking for safe harbour while on the run.

The Japanese Red Army was a far-left terrorist organisation most active in the Middle East though Shinsuke’s decision to leave it seems to be less to do with a disillusionment with communism than a reawakening of his humanity in which he has decided he can no longer be a part of its bloodiness and violence. Nevertheless, while holed up aboard the Nomad, he explains that he cannot join the other youngsters in their romantic dream of sailing to Arabia because he has rejected exile and is determined to return home and meet his certain death in Japan. The destructive forces have however followed him in the form of an assassin posing as an assistant to a fashion designer, which seems to be allusion a little too on the nose even if it quickly descends into a strange pastiche of samurai ideology otherwise at odds with that of the JRA in which they track Shinsuke down and then instruct him to commit seppuku with the sword he has been carrying all along. 

In an earlier fight that led Pong and Louis becoming friends, some young women had needled him that he should try to protect Kathy though she needed no protection in this situation and he was unable to provide it anyway. Something similar happens on the beach though he turns out to be surprisingly adept with a samurai sword when he’s unexpectedly rescued by Tomato (Cecilia Yip Tung), a young woman he met in a cafe after he overheard her desperately trying to dump one boyfriend and not be be dumped by another over two different telephones, who suddenly reemerges with a harpoon gun. It’s Tomato, who had kept a copy of Nietzsche’s The Antichrist given to her by a boyfriend but apparently not read it, that finally remarks on their aimlessness, “we do nothing for society”, only to be countered by Louis who answers, “what society? We are society.”

Briefly at the beach they may find the kind of utopia they’re looking for, lighting the cottage with lanterns and sleeping piled one on top of another under a communal mosquito net in the open air, but just as quickly find that dream shattered by the intrusion of a political reality. This nomadic youth finds itself exiled from its home, dreaming of an impossible escape, caught between the colonial present and a colonial future with half an eye on an old coloniser and fast losing sight of its own identity. Abandoned on a blood-soaked shore, all youth can do is look out in shock and confusion bereft even of hope in a liminal space at once transient and permanent. 


Nomad screens at the BFI Southbank on 15th July in its new 4K Director’s Cut as part of Focus Hong Kong.

The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes (夏へのトンネル、さよならの出口, Tomohisa Taguchi, 2022)

A pair of lonely teens begin to find direction in their lives while investigating a mysterious phenomenon in Tomohisa Taguchi’s The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes (夏へのトンネル、さよならの出口, Natsu e no Tunnel, Sayonara no Deguchi). Adapted from the series of light novels by Mei Hachimoku, the film asks if it’s worth sacrificing the present to reclaim the past for an uncertain future, but also has a few things to say about grief and guilt and the necessity of moving on even if in this case a little further ahead than most. 

The mysterious “Urashima” tunnel is so named in reference to the classic folk hero who spends a few days with a princess at the Dragon Palace and then returns home to find that it is 100 years later and everyone he knew is dead. The princess gave him a box telling him never to open it but of course he does and suddenly becomes an old man. As high schoolers Kaoru (Oji Suzuka) and Anzu (Marie Iitoyo) discover, the tunnel works in much the same way. A few seconds inside is hours out, though they say that if you reach the end your wishes will be granted. Each desiring something, the pair team up to investigate together and gradually fall in love but are also divided by the contradictory nature of their quests. 

Reluctant to reveal the reasons behind her interest in the tunnel, Anzu fears that her desires are trivial in comparison to those of Kaoru who is trying to restore his family by bringing back his little sister Karen (Seiran Kobayashi) who was killed falling from a tree. Kaoru claims that he wants to see the kind of world that Karen had envisaged where everyone was happy, but is also trying to deal with his grief and guilt and looking for the restoration of a sense of stability he once had in his family. Anzu, meanwhile, is insecure in her gifts as an artist and has been rejected by her parents for her desire to make manga like her penniless grandfather. Kaoru tries to convince her that she has talent already but Anzu seems to believe that she needs once in a generation flair in order to be able to make her mark even if they get stuck in the tunnel and emerge hundreds of years later into a world in which manga no longer exists. 

But as Kaoru later finds out, the tunnel only lets you take back something you’d lost. It does not grant wishes for something that never belonged to you. Kaoru never really stops to think about the practicalities of his quest such as the increased age difference between himself and Karen or how he’d explain her sudden resurrection, while Anzu doesn’t really reflect on the how meaningless her success would be if didn’t come from her own efforts even as they work together to solve the mystery of the tunnel as a way of working through their individual anxities. Though their first meeting had been frosty, the pair soon bond in their shared loneliness and fractured families but like most teenagers don’t quite have the confidence to say the big things out loud. 

Taguchi makes the most of his summer countryside setting capturing the vibrancy of his surroundings from the cool blue sea to the bright yellow sunflowers near the train station while also hinting at the “boring” nature of small-town life in which there’s not much else to do than create your own adventure. Set in 2005, the film also has a meta time slip quality with its flip phones and minidisc players seemingly taking place in a more innocent age if also emphasising that the reason the teens can disappear for three days researching a tunnel is that their respective adults aren’t very bothered about what they’re doing or where they are. Each of them discover what it is they really wanted out of their mystical journey, if otherwise out of sync, as they learn to deal with their grief and insecurity before discovering the exit from the eternal summer of their youth into a less certain adulthood that no longer scares them but instead offers new opportunities amid the newfound solidarity of their togetherness.


The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes opens in UK cinemas on 14th July courtesy of All the Anime.

International trailer (English subtitles)

Images: ©2022 Mei Hachimoku, Shogakukan/The Tunnel to Summer, the Exit of Goodbyes Film Partners

Let It Ghost (猛鬼3寶, Wong Hoi, 2022)

A collection of conflicted souls find themselves haunted by the ills of their society in the directorial debut from Wong Hoi, Let it Ghost (猛鬼3寶). Very much in the tradition of Hong Kong horror comedy, the three-part anthology takes pot shots at everything from hypocritical, narcissistic TV stars, and chauvinistic, homophobic men, to familial displacement caused by rampant gentrification while asking questions about who is haunting who in a society which seems to be constantly eroding around the edges.

The hero of the first chapter, Lark, is a self-centred actor currently playing the lead in the hit TV show Incarcerated Detective in which he has the nonsensical catchphrase “Justice will always stand on the side of Justice”. Though playing a figure of moral authority onscreen, Lark is privately anything but and is becoming fed up with the show because it’s getting in the way of his burgeoning movie career. Wong makes some subtle digs at how the entertainment industry works with Lark kept out at a drinking party with useful people he clearly doesn’t like but has to get along with while needing to get back for night shoots. When he gets pulled over by a cop, he panics because he’s been drinking but it turns out the guy was just a fan who wants an autograph. The policeman’s failure to investigate him turns deadly when a sleepy Lark ends up running over a young woman and then pushing her body down a mountain to conceal the crime. 

Lark finds himself quite literally haunted by the spectre of his guilt when he realises that the young woman he killed was the guest actress for the episode in which she was supposed to be playing a ghost. Taking method acting to extremes, she turns up anyway prompting some ironic comments from the director about representation and the Hong Kong spirit before he makes full use of her now unkillable body to get exactly the effect he wants for the scene. A late twist hints at Lark’s self-obsession and insecurity if also perhaps the mutability of stardom in which no one is ever really irreplaceable. 

Like Lark, the hero of the second chapter, Kwan, is also somewhat insecure but mostly in his lowly status as a taxi driver while his materialistic girlfriend appears resentful that he can’t give her a standard of life to match that of her snotty rich girl friends. In a recurrent motif, Kwan keeps making a point that he isn’t “homophobic” but several times makes homophobic remarks and later tells a young woman that the boys love manga she’s reading “defies the Chinese values of man and wife”, while titles of books in his cab include “cute wife, obey me tonight” and “Domineering Driver and the Dainty Wife”. An attempt to impress his girlfriend with a cheap “staycation” backfires when she is possessed by a “horny ghost” whose insatiable appetites eventually become more than he can handle. The film walks a fine line between satirising Kwan’s toxic masculinity and patriarchal views and accidentally endorsing them, potentially spilling over into homophobia in the punchline of its possession gag. 

In part three meanwhile, the venue is a moribund shopping mall where a young woman runs a bridal shop inherited from her mother. The half-shuttered mall already has a ghostly quality, as Fong points out no one goes to malls anymore, and it could in a sense be she and her friends that are haunting it though there is a more literal ghost of an abandoned child as a kind of symbol of the “orphans” of gentrification displaced from their homes and left with nowhere to go. Fong and her friend Edward decide to look for a nice couple to look after the ghost, Kat, who would then be reincarnated as their child but struggle with unexpected interference from a kung fu exorcist working for security who want to get rid of Kat so the building can be sold. 

There is quite a lot of haunting going on, be it the grim spectres of celebrity culture, sexism, or the gradual erasure of the old society which brings about its own ghosts in the eerie sense of emptiness with which abandoned buildings are imbued. Cynical humour and a thick slice of irony lend each of these ghostly tales a satirical quality hinting at the unreality of the everyday marked by a sense of displacement and emptiness in a disappearing Hong Kong. 


Let It Ghost screens at the BFI Southbank on 14th July as part of Focus Hong Kong.

Original trailer (English subtitles)

No Life King (ノーライフキング, Jun Ichikawa, 1989)

Taking place at the tail end of the Bubble era and on the eve of a technological revolution, Jun Ichikawa’s No Life King (ノーライフキング) in many ways anticipates the world we have today in which much of our communication has already become digitised. The cult-like speech of the next-gen guru who pops up towards the film’s conclusion may have eerie ring to it, but he has a kind of point in his talk of “new children” who will become “new adults” in a new digital world that was then only just becoming a reality. 

As someone later says, “the problem is not video games” though many seem to assume it is. The hero, Makoto (Ryo Takayama), whose name means “truth”, is one of a group of five boys obsessed with Nintendo console gaming. A game series known as Life King has become so popular that hundreds of youngsters camped out all night waiting for the release of the fourth instalment. The only problem is that the game seems to be unbeatable, and Makoto’s young friends begin to hear rumours that some of the cartridges are “cursed” with an alternate “No Life King” version that means death for players who cannot finish the game. 

The “curse” reflects a confusion that is beginning to emerge over what is “real” and what is “virtual” in an era of rapid technological development. The kids begin to worry that if you die in the game you die for real, while otherwise becoming obsessed with all kinds of urban legends relating to mysterious deaths and conspiracy theories such as that of the actor who plays tokusatsu hero Pris secretly being dead and that all the collectible Pris pencil erasers you can get from gachapon machines are cursed with the resentment he felt as he died. Some would be keen to dismiss this kind of thing as silly things kids say, but then Makoto’s mother also suggests that cakes from the bakery the family of his classmate Noriko owns are “cursed” as customers have been coming down with food poisoning after eating them. According to the guru’s assistant Mizuta (Neko Saito), the rumours are having a serious economic impact and have led to delays in product launches and construction projects in addition to provoking a politician’s resignation. 

Then again, the film seems to wonder if it’s the Bubble-era economy which is the enemy. While Makoto plays video games on his own but chats to his friends doing the same thing via telephone headset, his mother often works late into the night staring at a computer screen in their home. Makoto attends a summer cram school where all of the work is done via computers linked via a primitive version of the internet. The teacher is present but cannot actually see any of the children and they can’t see him. Questions are asked and answered via the interface rather than directly, though the computer network of cram school students does eventually allow Makoto to get in touch with other “new children” who are just as worried about the cursed game as he and his friends are while the adults respond by taking their consoles away which of course denies them the ability to lift the curse by beating the game. 

The “curse” itself may symbolise mortality, though obviously the children will still someday die regardless of whether they beat Life King IV because life itself is an unwinnable game. “The problem is…” the opening text crawl explains, “the battle has begun. It is unlikely to end until you die.” The same words are uttered by Makoto’s principle only he substitutes “video games” for the second part of the sentence before dramatically falling backwards just like the stricken king of the game while Makoto and the other kids are lined up almost identically to the ranks of soldiers amassed in front of him. This moment of symmetry links back to a line from the guru Akiyuki Mori who hints at a new world in which life and death exist simultaneously. It is this new world that “new children” must learn to adapt to as they grow with technology.

“It’s scary, but we’ll die if we can’t lift the curse” Makoto tells one of his online buddies and eventually becomes an accidental folk hero with the other kids looking to him to free them by beating the game. Graffiti tags go up all over the city reading, “hang in there, Makoto”, while he becomes preoccupied by the nature of the “real” as related to him by Mori and his assistant Mizuta who begin to view him as something like a prophet or at least the first of the “new children” to enter the “new real” in which the distinction between the “real” and “virtual” has disappeared. Fearing for his mortality, Makoto saves himself in the digital space by writing a bio and saving it to floppy disc much as a hero who died in the game was immortalised in stone so that no one would ever forget that he existed. 

By the film’s conclusion, “real life” has become a kind of game as evidenced by the advice of Makoto’s cram school tutor that he try and raise his score by 20 points to increase his chances of getting into a higher level institution. The mysterious boy somewhere on another computer tells him to go and look around outside at which point he wanders through the contemporary city and sees it with new eyes. “It is all real” he concedes, catching sight of Mori and his assistants in the crowd just as we start to wonder if this really is “reality’ after all. Then again, perhaps the best lesson the boys learn is from one of their grandfathers who simply “kept living until he died”. Ichikawa captures a sense of technological anxiety in the uncanny eeriness of the “real” world around the boys but is perhaps less pessimistic about the new age that awaits them in the solidarity that exists between the “new children” despite the seeming indifference of the adults incapable of understanding the anxiety that engulfs them.


The Sea of Genkai (任侠外伝 玄海灘, Juro Kara, 1976)

Juro Kara was an avant-garde playwright and theatre practitioner whose work was a part of the Little Theatre Movement which rejected conventional naturalism and prioritised the physicality of the actor over text and dialogue. Though he performed as an actor in films by other avant-garde filmmakers such as Shuji Terayama and Nagisa Oshima, he directed only one film. By these standards, the The Sea of Genkai (任侠外伝 玄海灘, Ninkyo Gaiden: Genkai Nada), a co-production with the Art Theatre Guild, may seem surprisingly conventional, but is also highly unusual not only in ATG’s filmography but also in its subversions of the yakuza film. 

The Japanese title is prefaced by “ninkyo gaiden” which makes it sound like a spin-off to a ninkyo eiga or chivalrous gangster movie, which turns out to be incredibly ironic because there is no chivalry or honour here only cruelty and exploitation. Set in the port of Shimonoseki where boats leave for Korea, the film follows dejected petty yakuza Kondo (Noboru Ando) as fate finally catches up with him. He and his boss Sawaki (Jo Shishido) were once students together and took a job in Busan dealing with the corpses of American soldiers killed in the Korean War. Sent to deliver dog tags to widows, Sawaki spits in a distraught woman’s face and then attempts to rape her, only there is another couple in her home and the man soon wakes to challenge him. Kondo and Sawaki are then drawn into a brutal and ugly fight during which Kondo knocks out the man while Sawaki rapes the widow. The other woman then threatens them with a knife, taking back the dog tag only for Sawaki to pounce and strangle her. Sawaki then flees the scene confused by what he’s done, but Kondo stays behind and rapes the second woman’s corpse before leaving her for dead. 

Kondo later relates that he’s been unable to sleep with women ever since his experience of necrophilia in Korea in 1951. Kura often cuts back to the bundle of dog tags Kondo has been keeping all this time which hang by his window like a wind chime. He watches them sway and hears them jingle with the violent motion of Sawaki’s raping the woman, hanging that of, presumably, a random man around the second woman’s neck as he in turn rapes her body. He later finds a woman who reminds him of the one he raped while dead among a cohort of those he’s in the process of sex trafficking who has unwittingly put on one of the dog tags like an ironic necklace while taking a bath in his apartment on the invitation of his more sensitive associate Taguchi (Jinpachi Nezu). On catching sight of Kojun (Reisen Ri), he’s struck by a literal flashback that is a clear homage to Henri-Georges Clouzot’s Les Diaboliques as he watches a “dead” woman rise from a bath. Later he rapes her too, presumably the first (though not the last) “living” woman he’s had sexual contact with in 25 years. 

The dog tags take on a still more ironic relevance in the Korean song which plays over the opening titles and is sung frequently by the trafficked women. The song is sweet and innocent, narrated by a woman who is preparing a “flower garland” for someone that she loves, but its imagery is subverted in Kondo’s grim necklace of dog tags taken from fallen men. Even Sawaki describes him as someone who has been dead for 20 years while preparing to sacrifice him to curry favour with their creepy Tokyo boss Tahara (Taka Ohkubo) who permanently wears black gloves on both hands even while shirtless, while Kondo later sings a song characterising himself as a “black dog” who never stood a chance in this broken world of ruined dreams. Penned by Kura himself and performed by Ando, this song more clearly reflects his absurdist dialogue style in its deeply melancholy imagery as Kondo fully succumbs to his image of death. 

Kondo’s actions come to emblematise the continued violence inflicted on the bodies of Korean women by Japanese men from the colonial era onwards. The woman from the bath, Kojun, suffers continually throughout the film and is later forced to perform in strip shows by the Sawaki gang. She is clever, and fierce, but the world is all against her and the only answers that she ever gets as to why her “uncle” forced her to stowaway on a smuggling boat to Japan only further deepen the wounds inflicted by a deeply corrupted, imperialistic patriarchy. Kojun develops a fondess for Taguchi because he is the only man who doesn’t try to rape her and in fact saves her from being raped though later said to be impotent and rejected by the other gang members for his refusal to participate in their despoiling of the Korean women. Bloodstained underwear becomes a symbol of sexualised violence countered only by the plain white pairs Kojun later buys for Taguchi after replacing her own ruined clothing.  

She and Taguchi attempt to protect themselves by bringing the receipts, threatening to release the smuggling account books and expose a host of dodgy dealings if the Sawaki gang come for them, but in the end there is no escape. Taguchi finds himself wading through oil-soaked waters with his dreams in ruins before finally breaking the chain though it’s unclear if it will really free him. Bleak beyond measure in its deeply tragic denouement, Kara’s intense drama offers no respite from its nihilistic world of violence and exploitation and leaves us quite literally floundering in a dark sea of inevitable corruption. 


Trailer (no subtitles)

꽃목걸이 – 이영숙 (1972)

(꽃목걸이 = “flower necklace”. There doesn’t seem to be an official romanisation of singer 이영숙 (李英淑)’s name, but it does appear in a few places as “‘Iyeongsuk”, or “Lee Young Sook”. A contemporary romanisation would render it as “Lee Yeong-suk”)

Ghost in the Regiment (憲兵と幽霊, Nobuo Nakagawa, 1958)

A treacherous military police officer comes to embody the evils of war in Nobuo Nakagawa’s eerie psychological horror, Ghost in the Regiment (憲兵と幽霊, Kenpei to Yurei). Kyotaro Namiki’s The Military Policeman and the Dismembered Beauty (憲兵とバラバラ死美人, Kenpei to Barabara Shibijin) had been a big hit the previous year so studio head Mitsugi Okura tasked Nakagawa with producing something similar at which point he proposed a film centring on “treachery and patriotism”. The Japanese title closely resembles that of Namiki’s film in beginning “the military policeman and…” as if it were a continuation of an ongoing series but is otherwise unrelated and could even be interpreted to suggest that the protagonist is both malevolent supernatural entity and military policeman. 

Lieutenant Namishima (Shigeru Amachi) is indeed later described as “the embodiment of evil” and his desire for conquest, in this case of a woman about to marry another man whom he will eventually win and discard, is reflective of the destructive lust for imperialist expansion. When Akiko (Naoko Kubo) marries another member of the military police, Tazawa (Shoji Nakayama), in the autumn of 1941, Sergeant Takashi (Fujio Murakami) jokes with Namishima that he has “failed to win the girl”, but Namishima merely smirks and explains that he’s playing a long game, “The true spirit of a warrior is found in the final victory.” Soon after he frames Tazawa for having stolen secret documents he himself has sold to Chinese spy Zhang (Arata Shibata), subjecting him to heinous torture and having both Akiko and his mother (Fumiko Miyata) tortured in front of him to force Tazawa to confess. Thereafter he has him executed by firing squad but Tazawa, strung up on a cross, continues to protest his innocence until the final moment issuing a curse on all those that have wronged him. 

Unlike some of Nakagawa’s other films, the ghosts here are less supernatural than they are psychological. Namishima has frequent flashbacks and visions that remind him of his crimes and is quite literally haunted by his guilt while refusing to admit that he feels any. It seems that he harbours strong resentment towards the military and implicitly towards the militarist regime and emperor having been rejected by the military academy because his father had committed suicide. His treachery is revenge but also equal parts self-destruction and a wilful bid to assert himself through his transgressions marvelling at his success in becoming the sort of person who could betray his own country and kill his own people. Both Tazawa and his brother (also played by Shoji Nakayama), who later joins the military police hoping to investigate the circumstances of his death, were graduates of the military academy and therefore idealised cogs in the military machine. 

Somewhat uncomfortably, the righteousness of Tazawa’s brother effectively legitimises the militarists in suggesting that a man like Namishima is an aberrance unreflective of the militarist ideal. “Ignoring the innocent goes against all the military police stand for”, Tazawa earnestly tells Namishima when he attempts to cut corners framing another suspect for his own ends, lending the military police an air of legitimacy they may not have had in reality when we might ask ourselves what exactly it was that they “stood for” which is more likely the nihilistic amorality to which the narcissistic Namishima subscribes. As he said, women lose their lustre once he’s got them. Having pretended to be a friend to Akiko in her widowhood, he rapes her during an air raid and it’s at this point that Japan begins rapidly losing the war as Namishima’s moral decline mirrors the fortunes of his nation. Having got what he wanted, he callously discards her and is transferred to Manchuria where he continues to work with Zhang and his wife, Ruri/Honglei (Yoko Mihara), with whom he has something like a more genuine romance.

His crimes will, however, catch up with him and it’s in Manchuria that his schemes begin to unravel not least because of the unsettlement that the presence of Tazawa’s brother, who has been seconded to his unit, causes him. The film’s surreal conclusion takes place in a Christian graveyard with Namishima surrounded by crosses which align with the crucifix on which Tazawa was executed. The crucifix itself would have no particular religious connotation in Japan and is simply a convenient way of constraining someone for execution but here takes on a symbolic dimension in confronting Namishima with his sins of transgression. Soon he is surrounded by hundreds of Tazawas on crosses, echoing the many men who were in effect murdered by the imperialist regime in a war fuelled by the same lust for conquest that motivated Namishima. Nakagawa’s camera takes on the role of an observer, sometimes comically swooping between talking heads as if following an ongoing conversation while later rocking in unsteadiness as Namishima begins to lose his grip on reality, finally confronted with the “ghosts” that surround him. 


Original trailer (no subtitles)

Fantasia International Film Festival Confirms Complete 2023 Programme

The Fantasia International Film Festival returns for its 27th edition taking place once again in Montreal from July 20 to Aug. 9. This year’s festival will have a special focus on South Korean cinema marking the 60th anniversary of diplomatic relations between the two nations including the latest blockbusters such as the third instalment in the popular Roundup series, and a screening of the 4K restoration of 2001 classic Take Care of My Cat. With the complete programme now announced, here are the East Asian features playing Fantasia 2023.

China

  • Deep Sea – visually rich animation from Tian Xiaopeng.
  • Flaming Cloud – whimsical romantic fantasy in which a young man is cursed causing all who kiss him to fall into a deep sleep.
  • Journey to the West – a UFO obsessive journeys west in search of the meaning of life in Kong Dashan’s hilariously deadpan, absurdist epic. Review.
  • Ride On – a former stuntman springs into action when loansharks and eccentric businessmen come for his beloved horse in Larry Yang’s meta Jackie Chan vehicle. Review.

Hong Kong

  • A Chinese Ghost Story – Ching Siu-Tung classic starring Leslie Cheung as a young man who meets a beautiful woman in a deserted temple.
  • God of Cookery – an arrogant chef is exposed as a fraud by a duplicitous rival but finally learns the real meaning of cooking after finding a home among true cooks in Stephen Chow’s characteristically absurd comedy. Review.
  • Mad Fate – mad cap supernatural noir in which a fortune teller and “born psychopath” team up to solve a murder.
  • My Heart is That Eternal Rose – a trio of lovelorn romantics find only futility in trying to escape the gangster underworld in Patrick Tam’s melancholy neo-noir. Review.
  • The Moon, the Sky, and You – teenage mood piece in which high school lovers square off against gangsters.
  • The Sparring Partner – Ho Cheuk-tin’s tense courtroom drama puts human nature and the criminal justice system on trial as two men stand accused of a heinous murder that shocked the nation. Review.
  • White Storm 3: Heaven or Hell – the third installment in Herman Yau’s thematic series starring Louis Koo, Aaron Kwok, and Lau Ching-Wan.

Japan

  • #Manhole – a salaryman’s moment of triumph is disrupted when he falls down a manhole the night before his wedding in Kazuyoshi Kumakiri’s unhinged B-movie thriller. Review.
  • As Long as We Both Shall Live – light novel adaptation set in an alternate 19th century Japan in which a young woman is married off to a ruthless military commander.
  • Baby Assassins 2 – the Baby Assassins are back and continuing to struggle with the demands of adulting in Yugo Sakamoto’s sequel to the hugely popular slacker action comedy. Review.
  • The Concierge – animation following a young woman working in a department store where all the customers are animals.
  • The First Slam Dunk – directorial debut of Takehiko Inoue, original author of the basketball-themed manga, following Ryota Miyagi as he takes centre stage at the Inter-High Championships.
  • Insomniacs After School – manga adaptation in which two high school loners team up to revive the astronomy club.
  • Kurayukaba – retro steampunk noir anime.
  • Mad Cats – mad cap action movie in which a young man embarks on a bizarre quest to rescue his missing brother.
  • People Who Talk to Plushies Are Kind – a collection of sensitive uni students pour out their worries to cuddly toys to avoid burdening others with their fears in Yurina Kaneko’s charmingly empathetic drama. Review.
  • Ramayama – The Legend of Prince Rama – An exiled prince finds himself fighting an epic battle against the darkness when his wife is kidnapped by a demon king in this beautifully produced adaptation of the classic legend. Review.
  • River – time loop comedy from the director of Beyond the Infinite Two Minutes set in a traditional inn near Kyoto.
  • Sand Land – animation from Toshihisa Yokoshima based on the manga by Akira Toriyama.
  • Shin Kamen Rider – Hideaki Anno’s take on the classic tokusatsu hero.
  • Tokyo Revengers 2 Parts 1 & 2 – the long-awaited two-part sequel to the timeslip drama.

Philippines

South Korea

  • Chilsu and Mansu – Park Kwang-su’s 1998 classic starring Park Joong-hoon and Ahn Sung-ki as sign painters from either side of the divide in a newly democratised Korea. Review.
  • The Childe – latest thriller from Park Hoon-Jung in which an impoverished man from the Philippines travels to see his estranged father in Korea only to be hunted down by assassins.
  • Io Island – eerie folk drama the great Kim Ki-young starring Kim Jeong-cheol as tourism executive who travels to a remote island after the possible breaking of a taboo leads to a man’s death. Review.
  • The Devils – bodyswap horror in which a man seeking vengeance for his brother’s murder wakes up in the body of the man who killed him.
  • Killing Romance – madcap comedy in which a former star (Lee Ha-nee) teams up with a student (Gong Myoung) to kill her husband (Lee Sun-kyun).
  • Mother Land – stop motion animation from Park Jae-beom.
  • Ms. Apocalypse – poignant millennial drama in which a shy office worker agrees to cover up the embezzlement of her unrequited crush.
  • My Worst Neighbor – quirky romantic comedy in which warring neighbours fall in love in the middle of a noise dispute.
  • New Normal – horror anthology from Jung Bum-shik (Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum)
  • The Night Owl – period conspiracy thriller in which a blind acupuncturist witnesses the death of the crown prince.
  • Peppermint Candy – Lee Chang-dong’s intensely moving drama following one man’s path backwards through decades of his nation’s turbulent history.
  • The Phantom – Colonial Era spy thriller meets drawing room mystery in this masterful drama from Lee Hae-young.
  • The President’s Last Bang – Im Sang-soo’s ironic take on the assassination of Park Chung-hee.
  • The Roundup: No Way Out – third instalment in the popular series starring Ma Dong-seok (Don Lee) as a maverick policeman.
  • Take Care of My Cat – much loved female friendship drama from 2001 revolving around five friends heading in different directions after high school. Review.

Taiwan

  • The Abandoned – horror in which a grieving policewoman investigates a series of murders of migrant workers.
  • Marry My Dead Body – a police officer discovers a red wedding envelope but soon realises the proposal comes from the other side and it is the ghost of a murdered man who wants to marry him!
  • Miss Shampoo – quirky rom-com from Giddens Ko in which a gangster falls for a hairstylist after she hides him from bad guys.

The Fantasia International Film Festival runs in Montreal, Canada, July 20 to Aug 9. Full details for all the films along with scheduling and ticketing information are available via the the official website, and you can also keep up with all the latest news via the festival’s official Facebook pageTwitter account, Instagram, and Vimeo channels.

Maelstrom (マエルストロム, Mizuko Yamaoka, 2023)

In her personal essay film Maelstrom (マエルストロム), Mizuko Yamaoka meditates on disability and the quest for fulfilment in a society that can be oppressive and unwelcoming. Accompanied by her continuous voiceover, she presents a series of slides and snapshots along with a handful of video captures and interviews to illustrate her life’s journey while simultaneously searching for direction and wondering where it is she is supposed to be or go to fully become herself.

Several times she asks herself if she’ll ever become nostalgic for what was otherwise a time of struggle, and does in fact find that she has a fondness for the childhood home from which she longed to escape and most particularly its flowering dogwood tree so cruelly cut down when the house was demolished in 2013. The destruction of the house at once leaves her painfully rootless but perhaps also free as it seems to have done for her parents. She observes her mother whom she otherwise describes as controlling and lacking in empathy finding a new lease on life living together with the husband with whom she still seems to be very much in love all these years later. 

Paradoxically it’s this kind of relationship that Mizuko describes herself as seeking, lamenting the end of a relationship with a German boyfriend she met while studying abroad which frittered out when he returned home and she stayed in New York. Though Mizuko had longed go to abroad as a way of escaping her family which also in its way represents the conservatism of Japanese society, she had not wanted to go to New York and had ambivalent emotions about accepting her mother’s offer to study there not least in the feeling that she was once again suppressing her own desires to follow her mother’s commands. It was while studying there that she was involved in a traffic accident which broke her neck. Now a wheelchair user she felt she had no option but to return to Japan for longterm treatment and to the home she’d been so desperate to escape. 

Even so, the wheelchair is for her a means of seizing her freedom and she determines to reclaim her independence. The middle section of the film centres on the difficulties of living with disability in the contemporary society. Her parents had had their house adapted for accessibility and provided a separate entrance to give her some privacy, but when her father’s business closes and they have to sell she finds it difficult to find accessible living spaces and has to make a few alterations including a new bathroom in the flat she moves into. Attending a residential programme in Denmark had given her new insights into accessibility which she hoped to bring to Japan while making her own accommodations where she can such as fitting a crane to her accessible car to help her lift her powered wheelchair into the back independently.

Later she remarks on how easy it seemed to be for an able-bodied man to carry the wheelchair she struggled to move for her while insisting that she didn’t want to let stairs become a barrier to her travel. Wanting to visit somewhere new, she goes to a hairdresser’s owned by someone she’d met at a bookshop but has to ask staff to physically carry her down the narrow stairs to the basement salon. She finds that though it requires thorough research and planning, she is able to enjoy international travel arriving safely in Venice by water taxi further boosting her sense of freedom and independence. A temporary sense of equality emerges during the coronavirus pandemic as events go online and accessibility issues decrease even if it doesn’t seem to have much longterm benefits in changing the way society thinks about disability and inclusion. 

There’s no denying that Mizuko’s voiceover is often bleak and rigorously honest in expressing her feelings especially those relating to her complicated family relationships, but is in it’s own way hopeful as she continues to strive to find fulfilment in her life even as she observes others move on and leave her behind. She reflects that the internal issues she’s trying to overcome were present long before her accident and rediscovers release in her art of which this documentary is only a part while beginning to reassess her relationships and realising that independence doesn’t necessarily mean doing everything alone. A poignant meditation on past, future, the floating nature of connection, and an ableist society Yamaoka assembles a kaleidoscopic vision of her life while musing on ambivalent nostalgia and the necessity of moving forward in the midst of the maelstrom of life.


Maelstrom screened as part of this year’s Nippon Connection

Original trailer (English subtitles)

Tokyo Uber Blues (東京自転車節, Taku Aoyagi, 2022)

Aspiring filmmaker Taku Aoyagi had been working as a substitute driver, driving people home in their own cars after they’ve had a drink, for a company owned by his uncle in rural Yamanashi when the pandemic hit in early 2020. With bars closed and fewer people going out in general, he soon lost his job while saddled with significant student debts. In Tokyo Uber Blues (東京自転車節, Tokyo Jitensha Bushi), he documents his decision to move to Tokyo and become an Uber Eats delivery agent having heard of big opportunities to earn easy money amid the delivery boom of the pandemic. 

Aoyagi’s capture of himself is not always sympathetic and he often appears relatively naive even while trying to contend with the vagaries of the Covid-era economy. He’s fortunate enough to be invited to stay with a friend but soon finds that the work is much more difficult than he’d been led to believe and a nine-hour shift earns him only around 60 US dollars. Most of the orders he’s carrying seem inordinately small, biking half way across the city just to deliver one burger or a pair of bubble teas meaning of course that he’s only picking up a minimal amount in tips. The work is also physically taxing though obviously becomes less so as he gets used to it and is then able to upgrade to an electric bike. 

The film is much more about Taku’s direct experience as an Uber Eats deliveryman than it is about the gig economy, the precarious working environment, pandemic or life on the margins of a prosperous society at a moment of crisis but nevertheless makes small asides hinting at a disparity between the people who order the deliveries and those who deliver them. Taku reflects that people in high rise condos seem to order an awful lot of stuff and is left with mixed emotions on the one hand recognising that they provide the work for him but also mildly resentful that they seem to spend their money so frivolously when he can barely get by. He swings between considering the implications of Uber’s business model for its workers and fully believing that he is “connecting people” through his work. As time goes on it’s almost as if he’s beginning to lose to mind, rambling about his “quest” to master the system and become the ultimate Uber rider maximising his profits while describing himself and his colleagues as “hyenas” prowling the city ready to pounce on the next opportunity. 

Aoyagi does not go into the reasons he chooses to move out after staying with friends though it may perhaps just have been that he felt bad about imposing on them for so long or simply wanted his own space. An attempt to stay in a cheap hotel does not go as well as hoped and hints at his difficulties managing his money on an unpredictable income. For a while he becomes technically homeless, sleeping on the streets before finding refuge in overnight manga cafes when they eventually reopen. A jobbing actor he meets on the street gives him advice about where to find cheap food while an old classmate helps him out with Uber-related advice such as where to wait to find the prime gigs hinting at the various ways people will still help each other even while similarly desperate or in direct competition. 

Even so, he’s still receiving calls about his overdue loan payments and reflecting on the way the government chooses to spend its money. They tell people to stay at home, but what are you supposed to do if you don’t have one? Taku asks the actor where the homeless people go but he tells him they’ve all been bussed out of the city in preparation for the Olympics. When an air display takes place to celebrate the efforts of frontline workers, Taku briefly explains that he also felt as if they were celebrating his successful mastery over the Uber system only to later reflect that it cost about 30,000 US dollars which might not have been the best use of such a large amount of money. Still wearing grandma’s home made mask, he rides all over the city observing all sorts of people and ways of life but doesn’t seem to have found much of a way forward for himself or decided whether this system represents “freedom” or is inescapably exploitative as he realises that Uber doesn’t cover maintenance or repairs on the equipment he has to supply himself. “What a world this is,” he chuckles to himself riding into a “new normal” none of us quite understand. 


Tokyo Uber Blues screened as part of this year’s Nippon Connection

Original trailer (English subtitles)