Talking Head (1992) by Mamoru Oshii

A new director is charged with completing an in-production animated feature titled “Talking Head” in this meta-fictional thriller. When the director of their film goes missing, producer Handawara, turns to a another director (Shigeru Chiba) to finish the project. The new director meets the staff on the project one by one, learning about their views on film-making, the history of cinema, and the importance of the medium. He brings on board his assistant Tamiko (Tomoko Ishimura) in an attempt to get a grip on the project that is spiralling out of control. He soon realises something unusual is happening as those involved with the project begin to die in mysterious circumstances.

“Talking Head” is a post-modernist deconstruction of cinema as a medium. The straightforward plot is complicated by the entire film being a meta-fiction analysing and critiquing elements of the film industry. Throughout there is fourth-wall breaking and alienation of the audience via obviously staged sets, and surrealist elements such as the Yasuda twins (Kei Mayama and Kujira), colourists who are small enough to be drowned in mini-paint pots. This constant juxtaposition of real and fake adds to the self-reflexive narrative asking the viewer not only to consider who is killing the staff on the project, but what the revelation of the culprit signifies for the meta-narrative. The film’s idiosyncratic elements: animated sequences; characters being physical representations of their jobs; the action taking place on theatre-like sets, and a bleeding of reality and artifice with overt special effects, all help to make it an enjoyable collage-like experience that constantly suprises with each new scene. It is a film that revels in creativity, showing what film is capable of through the alchemy of colour, effects, narrative, acting and editing working together to create something that is endlessly entertaining and intriguing. The film also has a tongue-in-cheek sense of humour, referencing “Kerberos” (another Oshii project), Rei Maruwa (a pseudonym Oshii has used), Ken Kawai (Shinichi Ishihara) the composer (a reference to Oshii’s longtime collaborator Kenji Kawaii who also provides the score for this film) and others. It is clever and silly in equal measure, managing to create tension despite indicating repeatedly that nothing that is happening is ‘real’ in a conventional sense. The most mysterious element of the film is the woman in black (Mako Hyodo) who appears throughout and seems to represent one element of the project that is never made explicit.

Being a meta-fictional take on a traditional serial killer narrative, “Talking Head” lends itself to numerous interpretations, as an examination of the psychology of both the characters and the film industry as a whole; a satire on various practices and trends; and a look at what film is and could be. The film’s central message concerns the power of narrative and film as a medium to transmit meaning. The film itself suggests that no two viewers ever see exactly the same film and that is especially true here, with many things left to interpretation. Some of the most powerful moments are those that defy description or analysis, with the strength of singular images lending themselves to myriad possible readings. If you are a fan of this kind of art-house, meta-fiction that forgoes a more traditional narrative in favour of something that is uniquely bizarre and exciting, then this film has that in spades.

It’s a Summer Film! (2020) by Soshi Matsumoto

Uninmpressed with her school film club’s current project, a saccharine romance, ‘Barefoot’ (Marika Ito) along with her friends ‘Kickboard’ (Yumi Kawai) and ‘Blue Hawaii’ (Kurara Inori) sets out to make her own passion project, a samurai film inspired by classic black and white movies. She manages to recruit a motley crew for sound and lighting, and finds the perfect lead in the shape of the mysterious Rintaro (Daichi Kaneko), who suddenly appears in her life. As they are making their film, competing with rival Karin’s (Mahiru Koda) romantic drama, they discover that there may be more at stake than the film premiere at the upcoming school festival.

Directed by Soshi Matsumoto, with a screenplay by Matsumoto and Naoyuki Miura, “It’s a Summer Film!” is a charming love-letter to classic historical cinema with a meta twist. ‘Barefoot’ is an engaging protagonist, and Marika Ito’s energetic and expressive performance is enjoyable. She plays a typical outsider hero, with her interest in historical epics, short-cropped hair, and passion for cinema marking her out as a geek, in contrast with Mahiro Koda’s mainstream heroine Karin. There is great chemistry with the trio of ‘Barefoot’ and her friends, ‘Kickboard’, a member of the astronomy club, and kendo-club member ‘Blue Hawaii’. All three of them represent slightly unusual hobbies that bind them together. The story’s meta-element is not explicit, but the film itself follows many tropes of the teen romantic comedy: a rivalry with a more popular student; the outsider heroes; the third act declaration of love. There is certainly an irony that ‘Barefoot’ is attempting to make a samurai epic, but finds herself entangled in a romantic comedy in her relationship with Rintaro. Early in the film ‘Kickboard’ mentions making a science-fiction film and this element also finds it’s way into “It’s a Summer Film!” with the inclusion of a time-travel sub-plot, that functions to distinguish the film from other ‘film-making’ comedies. Most of the humour comes from the difficulty of making a film and the uncharacterstic, but inspiring, interest in high-quality samurai dramas over cheap romances of the lead characters.

“It’s a Summer Film!” is a lot of fun for people who love cinema. It’s subtle self-referential style, including a joke about one of the “students” looking like a 30-year old man, who they nickname ‘Daddy-Boy’, is entertaining without having to force the humour. The time-travel element is likely to split audiences, but works in the context of the meta-narrative, of a self-aware ‘summer film’ that falls into many of the same narrative cliches that they are simultaneously critiquing. ‘Barefoot’ discovers in the future that films are only 5-seconds long, and that there are no longer cinemas. This is probably the film’s most unsubtle criticism of modern trends in film-making, audiences’ dwindling attention spans and the preponderence of people consuming media on mobile phones in short bursts. Although “It’s a Summer Film!” hits all the notes of a typical high-school romantic-comedy, its charm and self-awareness make it supremely watchable. The likeable cast and light-touch comedy are comfortable and remind people of the enjoyment of watching films and the power of cinema to take you on a journey.

Shrieking in the Rain (2021) by Eiji Uchida

A first-time female director battles studio executives, chauvanistic crew members, and the ratings board, as she tries to bring her vision to life in this comedy-drama from Eiji Uchida. Hanako (Marika Matsumoto) is directing her debut film, an erotic thriller about love and betrayal. Lacking the confidence to stand up to her overbearing crew, consisting of older male lighting and camera operators, she feels as if she is losing control of the production as she navigates various vested interests such as the producer’s desire that it not be slapped with a restricted rating that will damage their box office takings. Hanako is far from the only member of the cast and crew struggling with the film. Older actress Kaede (Maeko Oyama) sees the film as her last chance to prove her acting ability, willing to go all the way in the final sex scene to show that she is a true artist; and Yoshie (Serena Motola), an aspiring camera woman, is facing the same sexism as Hanako.

“Shrieking in the Rain” is a comedy-drama film with an uplifting atmosphere reminiscent of a less cynical world. Set in 1988 it shows a film industry that is a very male-dominated environment, one in which Hanako’s ostensible power as a director is continually undermined by her lack of authority as a women with the men around her. Things perhaps haven’t changed enough in the industry to this day, but the choice of setting does allow the film-makers to push some of the behaviour, with women being smacked round the head or shouted at in front of the entire studio, to an extreme perhaps consigned to history. Most of the film takes place in the single film set or the nearby studio buildings. It has a behind-the-scenes feel as we watch what happens on the other side of the camera, with this motley crew working to capture the pivotal scenes of their movie. The cinematography by Kenji Noguchi, has a beautiful sunset feel of late-eighties nostalgia.

We often see Hanako surrounded by her crew and actors, visually establishing the power dynamics and the sense of pressure she feels from all sides. The three women who provide the backbone of the story, Hanako, Yoshie and Kaede, are all enjoyable characters with actors Marika Matsumoto, Serena Motola and Maeko Oyama giving powerful performances as women beset by an inhospitable world of entrenched sexism and self-important men. “Shrieking in the Rain” tackles these issues with a light touch, providing plenty of comedy to ensure that it never feels like a sermon on the wrongs of the film industry. This lighthearted approach to the drama is emphasized by the sentimental score, often indistinguishable from the melodrama of the film within a film. It is a testament ot the film’s whimsicality that the final sequence, an all-out song and dance number performed by the crew, does not seem out of place beside the more serious themes, not to mention the nudity and sex of the production they are filming.

The film recreates in the microcosm of this single film studio a sense of what many women in the workplace have to contend with. Hanako is far from incompetent, even though she is a newcomer to directing, but she is constantly chastised for her decisions, being asked why she needs another take or why she cannot simply change her plans for certain scenes to make them suitable for a general audience. It can be hard to understand why Hanako persists and it seems even she has her doubts about whether she is in the right job. A particular traumatic memory from her past seems to drive her creativity and determination to finish this film and this past trauma seems to chime particularly the other women on the production, although their own pasts remain unknown. Hanako’s relationship with Yoshie, who looks up to her as a female role model is touching and you find yourself willing them to succeed against the ignorant behaviour of the male crew. However, the film is far from a polemic against chauvanism, with many other aspects and subplots to enjoy. The foremost amongst them is the power of film itself to transport people, as the experienced actor Kazuto (Yuma Yamoto) explains to pop-idol Shinji (Kenta Suga), to another world. The introduction of a character working for the film classification board allows for some ridiculing of the often nonsensical rules defining lewdness or inappropriate behaviour in film. And Kaede’s character depicts the difficulties of aging in an industry obsessed with youth. A fantastic cast in a film packed with interesting characters, each showing an aspect of the film-making process or problems associated with it, “Shrieking in the Rain” is sure to entertain film fans looking for a lighthearted take on the industry.

Lowlife Love (2016) by Eiji Uchida

Tetsuo (Kiyohiko Shibukawa) is an amateur film director. After having a small independent hit a few years before, he has decided to make this his career despite making almost no money and having little recognition. Instead, he uses his limited fame, and his acting school, to attract vulnerable women who are desperate to be cast in his films. His life is a string of cigarettes and loveless sex. A talented screenwriter named Ken (Shugo Oshinari), with dreams of big-screen success, comes to him with a script that Tetsuo is sure will provide the basis for the film that will finally see him leave his underdog existence behind. After charging him 20,000 yen for the privilege of joining his film group, Tetsuo agrees to work with him. At the same time, a naive young woman named Minami (Maya Okano) turns up at Tetsuo’s acting class to audition for him. The washed-up director, far from nurturing this young talent, attempts to take advantage of her. Minami refuses his advances, stating she is in love with Ken. Eventually, Minami manages to escape this band of struggling artists and become a successful actor (albeit by sleeping with a more famous director), leaving Tetsuo and Ken behind. The film is populated with a huge cast of enjoyable characters, such as Tetsuo’s sister Akina (Nanami Kawakami), the talentless actress Kyoko (Chika Uchida) who resorts to sleeping with directors to get roles; a successful director named Kano (Kanji Furutachi) who we learn is no less perverse and immoral than Tetsuo; Mamoru (Yoshida Hosoda), a friend of Tetsuo who makes a living selling low-budget softcore porn; and the stingy producer Kida (DenDen) who keeps recommending they add nudity to their films to make them sell.

Written and directed by Eiji Uchida, “Lowlife Love” features some stunning performances and a heady blend of love, sex and a blackly humorous commentary on the world of film-makers. Tetsuo is hardly a likeable protagonist, however relatable or sympathetic he may be in his attempts to make it as a director, as we see him sleeping around, taking advantage of people constantly, and lacking motivation. However, it is precisely this complexity that makes the film so irresistible, like a horrific car-crash that you can’t look away from, despite how traumatic it might be to witness the endless failures of this man, both in life and as a filmmaker, or the way that Minami is treated. None of the characters are particularly good or bad, they are just doing what it takes to survive in this harsh world. There is a sequence late in the film, when Minami, who has gone from powerless to completely in control breaks down in tears as she realises what she has become. You can feel her sense of frustration and upset at the complicity in the harsh system that this entails. In this heartbreaking scene we run the full gamut of emotions from lust, to anger, and despondency. Kiyohiko Shibukawa’s disreputable Tetsuo is an immoral womanizer, but we are swept along with his constantly frustrated attempts to make something of himself. Maya Okano gives a truly spellbinding performance as Minami, at first naive but gaining in confidence as she realises her own ability. The supporting cast all give great comedic performances as the seedy, disreputable sorts that seem to be commonplace in this industry. The cinematography by Kenji Noguchi is great throughout, with a few stylistic flourishes that show that unlike the protagonists they are depicting the makers of this film are at the top of their game.

Writer and director, Eiji Uchida, has created a complex tale of imperfect humans struggling with what they are doing with their lives. The emphasis on sex throughout the film is not incidental. It is these primal biological urges that seem to be the only constant driver of the characters’ behaviour. Early in the film a character comments that Tetsuo does nothing but sleep around and as the film progresses it asks the difficult question of whether there is really any more to life than that, whether all life is simply a hedonistic free-for-all, or if people are driven by more than sexual desire. It is made clear that sexual attraction, lust and jealousy are inextricably linked with people’s behaviours and even their success or failure. This is made clear in the characters of Tetsuo and Kano, who seem different only because of their varying degree of success as a filmmaker, while we discover they are both equally perverse and self-absorbed. The film also provides a stark commentary on the manipulation and exploitation, particularly of women, that seems to be prevalent in the film industry. When DenDen says there is no difference between pornography and other films, his words might be more true than he realises, as we see women treated merely as objects to satisfy men, lacking any agency of their own. Even Minami’s own success is dependent on her lowering herself to being used by directors.

In contrast to the almost relentless negative portrayal of the film industry, and perhaps the “Love” the title is referring to, we have filmmaking itself. It seems the only thing that Tetsuo is genuinely passionate about, and perhaps speaks to the ideal that through cinema and the arts we can attain something more real than reality, both an escape and at the same time an absolute truth. Film is the thing that keeps him going, despite his failures, it symbolises something that is human and at the same time beyond the seedy, everyday humanity we are forced to endure. Of course, the film’s ironic take on the industry often undermines this naïve belief, but nevertheless there is something pure in even the most despicable characters. In the end, the fact that they hold on to these dreams, of being a movie star, or creating a popular film, is what makes them poignant, believable and sympathetic.

One Cut of the Dead (2017)

This review contains spoilers so if you have not seen the film already, I recommend you do before reading as there are some great twists to enjoy.

A film crew are gathered in a remote water treatment plant to film a low budget zombie film. During a break in filming the make-up lady (Harumi Shuhama) explains to the two leads (Yuzuki Akiyama and Kazuaki Nagaya) that there is an urban legend about the site that say when blood is spilt it will raise the spirits of the dead. Before they know it cast and crew are being attacked by zombies and must fight for their lives. The film’s opening half hour is a perfect B-movie horror flick, complete with dodgy acting, poor quality special effects and a story that makes little to no sense. After the credits roll (surprisingly early) “One Cut of the Dead” then turns into a film within a film within a film, when we discover that in fact everything we have just seen was all part of a special live television show as part of the recently launched zombie channel. We follow director (Takayuki Hamatsu), cast and crew as they rehearse for the film we have just watched and this is where the fun really starts. Once you realise that in fact the first part was not meant to be serious and in fact did not at all go according to the script, you are treated to the same events again, this time from behind the camera, with drunken extras, numerous mistakes, and a quick-thinking director trying to keep the live show going amidst the chaos.

Writer and director Shinichiro Ueda has created something truly special in this film. While many may think the zombie movie has been wrung to its last drop, he manages to do something unique with the genre. For everyone who has ever made a low budget film with their friends this film will ring painfully true. Its genius is in the structure. Going in knowing nothing about the film you soon settle down into what appears to be another cheap zombie film. Disused buildings, shoddy special effects, and peculiar line reads. It is an impressive opening, shot in one take, and this section alone would be worthy of praise, despite various apparent flaws. However, when the film then takes you a further step back behind the scenes and you realise that what you watched was a construction of the characters who are acting in it, there is a unique style of humour that provides for some laugh out loud moments. Suddenly, you are forced to recontextualise everything you just saw. The film has essentially shown you the punchline, and is now giving you the joke, which creates a fun atmosphere of expectation as you want to see what you know is coming and are anticipating the pay off in advance. The cast of “One Cut of the Dead” comprises entirely of first-time and unknown actors. Takayuki Hamatsu is well cast as the director, Takayuki Higurashi, of the ill-fated film. His relationship with daughter (Mao) is one of the highlights of the movie. Yuzuki Akiyama gives a very enjoyable performance as the lead actress with Kazuaki Nagaya playing opposite her. Also, Harumi Shuhama is fantastic as Higurashi’s overly zealous actress wife. The cast were chosen by the director for their awkward qualities and workshopped the film together. This approach of casting relative newcomers works well as there is great chemistry between everyone involved and the apparent lack of artifice in their performances is perfect for the story.

As mentioned, the opening “film” is enjoyable in its own right as a schlocky zombie comedy film and credit to the film-makers for pulling off this “one-take” style. All of the actors deserve praise for their roles in the film as there is not a bad note from anyone and everyone has a least a couple of hilarious scenes that they own completely. At the end of the film you can feel the camaraderie of the cast of this project, so completely does the film draw you in to the making of it. The cast are mostly given almost stereotypical roles, but pull them off with aplomb, for example the “idol”, the actor who wants to be taken seriously, and the director who is just trying to avoid messing up completely.

“One Cut of the Dead” deserves to be seen by anyone who is a fan of low-budget film-making, zombie movies, or comedy. It excels of every level of film-making and acting with a script that is laugh-out-loud funny. For those into film-making it has a lot of in-jokes, such as characters using eye drops to fake tears, the way of getting fake blood spray or corpses into shot, special effects, and more. The ending is a heart-warming testament to the power of co-operation that is sure to leave you with a smile on your face. This film reaffirms the absolute joy that films and film-making can be.