|

Richard Doyle's
MOVIE MADNESS
The Kingdom (Lars von Trier and Morten Arnfred, 1994).
The
result of this intriguing blend of medical drama, dark comedy, and supernatural
horror film, produced as a mini-series for Danish television, is something
like ER if it were written by David Lynch and directed by David
Cronenberg. The setting is Denmark's largest hospital, where a self-righteous
visiting Swedish doctor (Ernst-Hugo Järegård) abuses patients
and co-workers, a pathologist is driven to bizarre extremes in order to
obtain the cancerous liver of a dying patient, a Masonic cultist teaches
surgery in the hospital basement, interns play practical jokes with severed
body parts, and ghosts from the hospital's dark past haunt the hallways.
It all ends with a deliriously bloody cliff-hanger. The picture was shot
entirely with hand-held digital video, and features a soundtrack of amplified
hospital sounds and electronic effects, adding to the already eerie atmosphere.
Tokyo Fist
(Shinya Tsukamoto, 1995).
Tsukamoto
forgoes the kinetic fusing of flesh and metal of his Tetsuo films,
in this explosive story of flesh, muscle and self-mutilation. Insurance
salesman Tsuda (played by the director) lives a deadening life with his
fiancée Hizuru (Kahori Fujii), until an old classmate turned pro-boxer,
Kojima (Kôji Tsukamoto), enters his life. Kojima puts the moves
on Hizuru, so Tsuda takes up boxing to prepare for a final battle with
Kojima. Faces are pummelled to a bloody pulp, boxers are broken in the
ring, and human bodies are ritually pierced and tattooed, but the story
doesn't generate much interest. Stripped of the driving kinetic energy
of Tetsuo, Tokyo Fist painfully reveals Tsukamoto's weaknesses
as a story teller. The boxing sequences are some of the most brutal I've
ever seen.
The Krays
(Peter Medak, 1990).
Pop
stars Gary and Martin Kemp (Spandau Ballet) acquit themselves admirably
as the British gangsters Ronald and Reggie Kray, who were media darlings
in the 60s before a pair of very public murders sent them to jail. The
Kemps are believably cold, ruthless and violent, bringing to life characters
that are, at once, fascinating and repellent. Billie Whitelaw is also
fine as the boys' mother, who raised them during World War II, and later
created a cozy, yet subtly smothering, domestic environment for them to
carry out their criminal exploits. As portrayed in the film, the bond
between the three is so tight that no outsider can really share in the
love, and this contributes to the brothers' attitude that whatever they
want should be theirs. Kate Hardie appears as Ronnie's wife, who cannot
survive his dominating attempt at love.
Hard Times
(Walter Hill, 1975).
Charles
Bronson plays Chaney, a Depression-era tough guy who rides a boxcar into
the deep South intending to make some money as a bare-knuckles boxer.
He meets Speed (James Coburn), a gambler and fight promoter in need of
a new fighter, and the two travel to New Orleans. There they hook up with
a drug-addict and medical school dropout (Strother Martin) who acts as
Chaney's second, and together they try to make the big money by taking
on the city's top street boxer. Hill's directorial debut is the first
of his cult fables centering upon existential heroes with no disclosed
past, living by unspoken personal codes in urban subcultures. The movie
depicts a private world (similar in feeling to Robert Rossen's The
Hustler) where hard men engage in contests, and character is as important
as skill. And it features Bronson's best work on film.
Violent Cop
(Takeshi Kitano, 1989).
A
film in the "rogue cop" genre, full of Kitano's idiosyncratic touches.
He plays Azuma, a cop who batters suspects and plants evidence. Unlike
the characters in many of the American examples of this genre, Azuma does
not seem particularly angered by criminals. He's just tired of his job,
and cuts corners to get it over with. When a routine drug case results
in the death of a colleague, Azuma comes back to life and cuts a swath
through corrupt elements in his own department. As is usual with Kitano's
work, the film is very slow and static, until it erupts suddenly into
graphic violence. His passive, almost bemused expression never cracks,
even in the film's bloodiest moments, which furthers the film's dark vision
of a world dangerously out of control.
Alphaville
(Jean-Luc Godard, 1965).
In
my view, this is Godard's masterpiece. It's a perfect example of his willingness
to defy expectations, combine B-genres with intellectual techniques, and
comment on the history of film while defiantly staking out his own vision
of what films should be like. A deft blend of sci-fi, hard-boiled detective
film-noir, and art film, the picture features Eddie Constantine as Lemmy
Caution (a character he played in numerous 1950s French B-movies) as a
secret agent sent to find a professor who masterminded the creation of
a futuristic city called Alphaville, which is run by a domineering master
computer (voiced by Godard in a guttural whisper). Godard uses no special
effects -simply employing the most modernistic features of Paris he could
find to evoke his dytsopian future. The film attacks the modern propensity
to accept dehumanization through technology, the suppression of personality
in favour of a group mind, and the saturation of society by commercial
products, while never abandoning its cunning sense of humour or allegiance
to B-film aesthetics. The result is one of the most brilliant and unsettling
achievements in cinema.
The Bride with
White Hair (Ronny Yu, 1993).
An
impressive adaptation of an ancient Chinese legend. Zhou Yi-Hang (Leslie
Cheung) is the unwilling successor to the leadership of the Wu-Tang clan
and an unconfident leader of its armies against an evil cult, lead by
brother and sister Siamese twins. He meets Lian (Brigitte Lin), a girl
raised by wolves and adopted by the cult as their assassin, and they fall
in love, planning to abandon the conflict and live together as recluses.
Conflicting loyalties and mistrust lead to trouble. Operatic in scale,
featuring garish colours and fantastic action sequences, the film is a
minor adventure classic.
©2002 Richard Doyle
CineScene
|