Robo-G (2012)

When their robot falls out of a window a week before a major robotics exhibition, three hapless engineers need to find a way out of their dilemma. They decide to hire an elderly actor, Shigemitsu Suzuki (Mickey Curtis),  to get inside the remaining shell of their creation and pretend that it is still functioning normally. The old man wows attendants at the robotics show with his displays of dexterity and lifelike movement, seemingly able to do anything, causing the three engineers to panic that their ruse will soon be uncovered.

This light-hearted family comedy has a great premise which is amusing enough to carry a sometimes weak script. There are moments of slapstick humour with most of the jokes deriving from the public’s ignorance of the old man inside the robot suit. Mickey Curtis, playing the elderly Suzuki, does a great job with the character, who is shown to be struggling with modern life and feeling a little abandoned by society. The three engineers (played by Gaku Hamada, Junya Kawashima and Kawai Shogo) also have some great moments. We also follow a young engineering student (Yuriko Yoshitaka) who is obsessed with the marvellous robot, and members of Suzuki’s family. I found that it was an entertaining film, very similar to others in the genre (director Shinobu Yaguchi’s other films include “Waterboys” and “Swing Girls”), with a fun story and central performances, although some of the sub-plots are only very briefly addressed with the film’s main focus being on the jokes.

Despite being a knockabout comedy, the film also involves an emotional heart in the portrayal of the elderly Suzuki. We see him largely ignored by people around him due to his advanced years, and when he gets inside the robot suit there is an interesting dynamic as he is beloved by everyone and highly entertaining, but nobody sees him. A fantastic reflection of society valuing youth over age, further highlighted with the advancement of robotic technologies making people partially obsolete. I would recommend this film as an easy watch with a few great comedic moments.

The Castle of Cagliostro (1979) by Hayao Miyazaki

Famous thief Lupin the Third has just pulled off an incredible casino heist. Escaping with his partner in crime the two discover that the stash of bank notes they have stolen are in fact incredibly good forgeries. Lupin realises that they are from the legendary Cagliostro. The two arrive at a castle that appears to be abandoned and are soon pulled into a madcap adventure. The crooked count who runs the forgery scam is planning to marry a young woman to fulfil a prophecy that is said to grant whoever finds it a great treasure.

Directed by Hayao Miyazaki and based on a manga by legendary writer Monkey Punch, “The Castle of Cagliostro” is a film that is packed with enjoyable moments. The plot races along from action scene to action scene, but sketches out likeable enough characters along the way. Lupin is a loveable rogue whose crimes never overshadow the fact his heart is in the right place. It is a typical hero rescuing a princess narrative, but styled as a modern crime caper. The blend of medieval architecture and modern technology creates some fun sequences as they try to sneak into the castle and evade detection. The animation and artwork are solid and as with many works of this period display a great range of character designs. The castle provides a fantastic setting with plenty of variety, and the use of camera angles gives us a full picture of the environment. The sequences on the roof in particular show off the amazing work of the artists and animators to their fullest.

“The Castle of Cagliostro” is a film that is a fun family friendly romp for all ages. Slapstick humour, a simple yet well executed plot and great action sequences mean there is never a dull moment.

Cold Fish (2010) by Sion Sono

Nobuyuki Shamoto (Mitsuru Fukikoshi) is the owner of a small fish store. Together with his wife, Taeko (Megumi Kagurazaka), and wayward daughter, Mitsuko (Hikari Kajiwara), they maintain a fairly unimpressive existence. When his daughter is caught stealing from a supermarket, she is helped out by Yukio Murata (Denden), a rival fish store owner who offers her a job at his store. Murata is comical, arrogant, outgoing, everything Shamoto is not. But soon things take a turn for the worse when Shamoto discovers that Murata’s jolly façade hides a much darker, violent character.

The film is well written with the mysteries surrounding Murata and the psychological and physical violence building to a screaming crescendo in the final act. It is far from an easy watch, with scenes of rape, abuse and very graphic scenes of dismemberment, but with director Sion Sono’s trademark black humour running through it. The main actors are fantastic. Fukikoshi does a great job of portraying the timid, disgusted Shamoto, and he does an incredible job of making this unimaginable transformation believable. The unhinged couple of Murata and his wife, a delightfully unhinged performance from Asuka Kurosawa, are also genuinely chilling with sudden changes from bright humour to dark violent moods. The film is long but almost every scene, whether the visceral, violent murders or the sharp dialogue are riveting. Shiya Kimura’s cinematography is stunning and the film almost revels in creating something beautiful out of a subject matter that is dark and nihilistic. The music by Tomohide Harada helps increase the sense of danger and draw you into the film.

“Cold Fish” may appeal to lovers of gore and exploitation cinema, and there is no shortage of shocking scenes, but, the film also expresses an underlying philosophy of alienation and nihilism that means the violence is far from gratuitous. The dissociative, sadomasochistic characters act in a world where the violence serves to puncture a sense of ennui which plagues them otherwise. The film offers no easy answers with the finale being an increasingly sickening display of human psychopathy. If you are a fan of this genre of blackly comedic, hyper-violent thrillers, then this is definitely a recommended watch. Enjoyably disturbing film.

Tokyo Drifter (1966) by Seijun Suzuki

Tetsuya (Tetsuya Watari) is a young gangster loyal to his boss Kurata (Ryuji Kita). Kurata has decided to go straight and Tetsuya with him. Tetsuya earns the ire of rival gang leader Otsuka (Hideaki Esumi), by refusing to join with them. Things are further complicated by a real estate deal involving a third boss, Ishii. Tensions run high and bullets start to fly, leading to a number of deaths. Kurata tells Tetsu to leave Tokyo and his singer girlfriend, Chiharu (Chieko Matsubara), and head north. But trouble is never far behind and he soon finds his loyalties being tested.

With constraints on both time and money, director Suzuki managed to create up a film that has all the razzle-dazzle pop elements associated with the 1960’s generation alongside the unpredictable violence of the gangster genre. The story, by Yasunori Kawauchi, is straightforward enough, introducing several main players and a series of dodgy deals and double-crosses. Tetsuya is a likeable hero, sharp-suited and sharp-shooting, and Tetsuya Watari brings an effortless cool to the role in keeping with the youthful feel of the film. Suzuki uses colour to great effect and in a way that might at first seems at odds with the genre. Gone are murky hideouts and chiaroscuro lighting associated with the yakuza, replaced by brightly lit rooms painted in garish colours. There is comic-strip style to both the story and the staging, which, alongside some unusual editing, musical-like sequences of the main character singing the theme song, give the film a peculiarly tongue-in-cheek feel. It is a film that waltzes light-footed through the genre, absolutely nailing the most thrilling aspects of yakuza stories, while at the same time being a one-of-a-kind piece . The music by Hajime Kaburagi picks out the upbeat and enjoyable vibe of the film, with a jazz and pop infused score.

“Tokyo Drifter” deals with several themes familiar to the yakuza genre, primarily ideas of honour and the difficulty in breaking out of a life of crime. Tetsuya is a man who shows utter loyalty to his boss, who is like a surrogate father to him, in a world where loyalty is often poorly rewarded. His choice of profession means that he is doomed to be an outsider, unable to form significant relationships with others. This is typified in his interactions with Chiharu, who he is forced to abandon when things become too dangerous. Where “Tokyo Drifter” succeeds is in its depiction of the period. The stark contrast of colourful discotheques and the bright lights of the city with the lonely hideaways of the yakuza gives the sense of youth culture going on above the surface while underground the old rivalries persist. The film’s primary aim is to entertain. It is pulp entertainment elevated to an art form by a director with boundless creativity who doesn’t take himself or his art too seriously.

An Actor’s Revenge (1963) by Kon Ichikawa

Yukinojo (Kazuo Hasegawa) is a female impersonator working at a travelling theatre company. During a performance in Edo she finds a small group in the audience who were responsible for her parents’ tragic deaths. These are Lord Sansai Dobe (Ganjiro Nakamura), Kawaguchiya (Saburo Date) and Hiromiya (Eijiro Yanagi). Yukinojo is set on a course of revenge against this trio, though simply killing them will not suffice; he wishes to see them suffer madness before facing their ultimate fate. A side-story involves a thief, Ohatsu (Fujiko Yamamoto) and her accomplices, who get caught up in Yukinojo’s quest for retribution.

“An Actor’s Revenge” sets out its stall in the opening moments as Yukinojo fixes his eyes on his victims. What appears at first to be a simple revenge story, soon turns into a careful exploration of what this quest for vengeance means for Yukinojo and the psychology of revenge. At first cold and sly, we see Yukinojo become genuinely upset as she realises that she is in part destroying herself through her actions. She is consumed by her desire to see them punished and with each life she takes she knows she will become less herself and more a killer. The idea of actors, roles, masks and false identities, plays well against this backdrop. It set up the twisted tale quite nicely with the notion that people may not be what they seem. The audience come to realise that it is not only Yukinojo who is disguising a secret, but almost every character has a hidden life they are concealing from the world. Sexual politics, surprisingly perhaps, does not play a major role in the story, although Yukinojo’s appearance or transformation is mentioned several times, often in a derogatory way. It is interesting to contrast his story with that of Ohatsu, as the two could be considered to have swapped genders in terms of more traditional roles. Ohatsu is very much a woman in a man’s world, taking on their values and outdoing them in callousness, while Yukinojo embodies feminine wiles and compassion for her victims. A stunning film to look at with exceptional performances, a thrillingly dark revenge story with a peculiar hero, and a fantastic score.

From the opening shots of a Kabuki performance, the film is beautifully shot, and continues this theatrical aesthetic with actors’ careful movements, vibrant colours, and excellent use of framing. This gives “An Actor’s Revenge” a stylish look and blurs the line to some extent between the life on stage and reality. The screenplay by Natto Wada, shows a flair for dialogue, with conversations driving the majority of the action. It captures a range of voices and knows exactly when to withhold certain information (such as the precise details of Yukinojo’s father’s death) for maximum impact later on. Yukinojo’s own story has all the elements of a great drama, a tragedy spurring our hero to revenge, feelings of guilt or procrastination over what he must do, and a cast of colourful characters, both comedic and sinister to enliven the story. Kazuo Hasegawa’s performance as Yukinojo is exceptional as he undergoes several transformations and seems in genuine moral distress over his course of action. Hasegawa also plays one of the thieves, Yamitaro, a duel role that is commented on by the characters for their likeness to one another. Fujiko Yamamoto gives a thrilling turn as the cool and calculating Ohatsu, a woman totally in charge of her less capable followers. The orchestral score by Tamekichi Mochizuki and Masao Yagi, with piano, strings and harp, is the perfect counterpart to the sumptuous cinematography. There are a number of leitmotifs used throughout for certain moments or characters, and the music is carefully weighted to lend impact where required.