Posted on Friday, 8 June 2007 at 1:40 pm
Let’s say you’re a critically successful but until now little-known indie filmmaker, and you’re fresh off a big win at a prestigious foreign film festival. You’ve already got your next film in the works, your first-ever foreign location shoot, and have cast a famous model with a few TV and movie roles under her belt in the lead role. So, naturally the next logical step is to… belittle your star’s acting ability in front of the tabloid media? Way to go, Kawase Naomi.
As Tokyograph and Variety Asia have reported already, Kawase’s next film will be a love comedy shot entirely on location in Thailand tentatively titled “Sekaijuu ga Watashi o Suki dattara ii no ni” (something like “If Only the Whole World Loved Me”), and has uncharacteristically cast a heavily exposed lead actress in the form of ‘Hasekyo’, former MMA reporter and current Canon spokesmodel Hasegawa Kyoko. Kawase had this to say about her yesterday at a Tokyo press conference promoting the June 23rd release of her Cannes Grand Prix winner “The Mourning Forest” (Mogari no Mori):
“I watched a TV series [Hasegawa appeared in], but I can’t say much about her acting yet. I didn’t think she was really putting her heart into it. Right now, I’m looking for people who can help her work on that. I depict human beings, so I want to cut right to the heart of [her] humanity.”
That’s the kind of comment you might expect to hear from a cantankerous disciplinarian like “Pacchigi!” director Izutsu Kazuyuki, but it probably comes from Kawase’s customary preference for using non-actors and whipping them in to shape through an intensive workshopping process. It’ll be interesting to see whether she succeeds in beating the bad acting habits out of her headliner. Nevertheless, it’s indicative of her growing confidence and ambition to insert herself into the pantheon of legendary Japanese filmmakers. Apart from the Hasegawa slam, she also admitted her Cannes success “wasn’t a great surprise”, thinks her next film has a great chance of picking up the Palme d’Or next year, and wants to be mentioned in the same breath as Kurosawa Akira and Oshima Nagisa by future generations. To come anywhere near achieving that, she’ll have to make a film that plays in more than 28 cinemas nationwide - the current paltry count for “The Mourning Forest”. (sources: Sponichi, Sanspo, Sports Hochi)
Posted on Thursday, 7 June 2007 at 4:30 pm
It’s not often the English-language press in Japan devotes space to news or discussion about locally-made films, which probably says more about their core readership’s interests and language abilities than media apathy toward the subject. Even so, apart from Mark Schilling’s reviews every Friday in the Japan Times and Aaron Gerow’s occasional write-ups for the Daily Yomiuri’s Art Weekend section, you’re far more likely to find information about Japanese movies in English online at sites like Twitch or blogs like this one. Which made The Japan Times’ Sunday editorial on the current state of Japanese film a rare and welcome sight.
That being said, it wasn’t quite the kind of bang-on analysis that I would have hoped for and might even be a bit misleading in places, prompting me to challenge some of its assertions from my utterly inconsequential and inauthoritative perspective. Feel free to call bullpuckey on any of my observations below.
It begins with the topical hook of Kawase Naomi’s Cannes Grand Prix win for “The Mourning Forest”:
Kawase’s honor is another in a series of reminders about how rich and rewarding Japanese films can be. But at the same time, it is a reminder of how little known the film culture of Japan remains and how endangered the industry has become.
The second sentence is typical of the piece, in that’s it’s never quite clear whether it’s referring to attitudes to Japanese film at home or overseas. I’m sure most cinemaphiles who’ve visited or lived in Japan have discovered that most people here just aren’t interested, let alone knowledgable, about their own country’s cinema. That’s hardly a phenomenon particular to Japan - many New Zealanders’ idea of a Kiwi movie probably doesn’t stretch much further than “Lord of the Rings” - but it’s often difficult for foreigners drawn here by its cinema to figure out how a nation with such an enviable and internationally venerated film history can be so negligent toward it at home.
If the author had gone on to support their initial statement with examples such as the lack of reference to classic Japanese cinema in education or its general absence from free-to-air television, they would have made a virtually unassailable argument. Instead they addressed a perceived lack of economic, or rather governmental support for filmmakers and the industry itself but in doing so chose to omit certain realities that contradict its statements, thus disappointingly weakening the thrust of an otherwise well-intentioned article.
No one expects samurai and sword fights anymore, but the situations, acting and unique style of Japanese films have influenced the image of Japan abroad perhaps more than any other single factor. Nowadays, Japan is in danger of disappearing from world screens.
The hell it is. I don’t sense that’s any more the case than it was say, five years ago. As only one of the four filmmakers mentioned in the editorial (Kawase) is still breathing, the author seems a little too caught up in the past glories of Japanese cinema. You could even make the case that Japanese actors and filmmakers are enjoying a higher profile overseas than ever before, largely thanks to internet and DVD proliferation, but also thanks to the vital proselytizing role played by film festivals around the world, especially those with a strong Japanese or Asian focus such as Nippon Connection in Germany, the Far East Film Festival in Udine, Italy and the New York Asian Film Festival. Regardless of their actual quality, interest in Japanese films is at least running higher than at any time I can remember in my (relatively brief) lifetime.
These days Miike Takashi has such a rabid foreign fan base that even his lesser video works have been released on DVD in the U.S. and Europe, while Tsukamoto Shinya and Kitamura Ryuhei similarly enjoy loyal cult followings. On the acting front, Watanabe Ken and Sanada Hiroyuki have both pulled off mid-career renaissances by appearing in mainstream foreign productions, while Asano Tadanobu’s diverse filmography has gained him widespread popularity with foreign festivals and filmmakers alike, and consequently lead roles in Sergei Bodrov’s “Mongol” and Pen-Ek Ratanaruang’s “Invisible Waves”. Not to mention Kikuchi Rinko’s Oscar nod, or even director Harada Masato, who displayed a hitherto hidden talent for playing Machiavellian scumbags in “The Last Samurai” and “Fearless”.
But that’s moving away from the editorial’s main point, which is the threat to Japanese film posed by the lack of governmental backing for filmmakers and the industry as a whole.
In this regard, France might offer one of the best models. There, the government is unafraid to put its money where its pride is. Grants, schools and promotion have long encouraged and advanced the French film industry, while protecting it in a competitive world market.
I’m not familiar with the ins and outs of the French system so I can’t really refute or agree with that, but surely it would be easier for Japan to emulate a success story much closer to home - South Korea.
Alright, so the so-called Korean Wave has ebbed dramatically at the Japanese box office, but I’m fairly certain that has more to do with public fickleness and poor marketing (look at how badly a surefire hit like “The Host” did for proof of that) than diminishing quality. Other blogs have already dissected the phenomenon much better than I ever could. Besides, the South Korean government eventually caved in to the MPAA and sadly did away with their brilliant quota system, so the jury’s still out on whether their industry will able to maintain its popularity in an open market.
But all of that is really pretty irrelevant when you look at the remarkable track record of South Korean film in the international marketplace, emerging from relative obscurity and developing into an international film powerhouse in little more than a decade. Part of the credit for that must go to the South Korean government’s extensive efforts to bolster the film industry as well as to promote itself outside its own borders. Just compare the homepage of KOFIC, the Korean Film Council, with its extensive news section and database, to its Japanese counterpart UniJapan’s homely effort. And let’s not forget that the majority of South Korean films released on DVD in South Korea come ready with English subtitles - why can’t this be done in Japan? Even the domestic disc for “The Host” had them, despite being scheduled for subsequent theatrical release in numerous other countries. These are just two particularly conspicuous examples of the chasm that exists between Japan and South Korea in terms of awareness and consideration of the international market.
One idea might be to set up a fund for subtitling Japanese films and putting them on DVD releases, much in the same way that the Bunkacho (The Agency for Cultural Affairs) earmarks a portion of its expenditure for the translation of Japanese literature. For that to happen though, cinematic artistry would have to become as highly valued as the written word, which remains extremely unlikely. Even Amari Akira, the current Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry, recently admitted that the fact Kawase’s Cannes winner will be screened in more cinemas in France than in its country of origin is proof of Japan’s cultural inadequacy in terms of the significance given to film. And this is coming from the guy who is spearheading the move to turn the Tokyo International Film Festival into a “contents marketplace”.
Japanese film schools could be improved, or rather, initiated, since almost none operate in Japan.
Bollocks. Admittedly they are few in number and could definitely do with some hefty cash injections, but it’s ridiculous to ignore the achievements of institutions such as The Film School of Tokyo, the Japan Academy of Moving Images, the Osaka University of Arts. The places I’ve visited seem to get by only on the smell of an oily rag and a formidable passion for film, and despite the negligible career prospects for the majority of film industry hopefuls, they still manage to attract prominent filmmakers for teaching positions and even uncover the odd diamond in the rough. Would we have Shimizu Takashi, Miike Takashi or Yamashita Nobuhiro without schools like these?
Besides, with the diversification of image-based media and the increasing affordability of digital equipment, there are far more routes available to becoming a filmmaker these days. Rather than setting up more schools, more funding should be made available for those that already exist as well as showcases for new talent such as the Pia Film Festival.
Japanese directors must go abroad to learn even the basics or apprentice themselves to non-artistic companies. Creative films offer a vision of a beautiful country and national pride, to mention two of the government’s priorities, as strongly as any high school class in history.
But without creative and financial support, the offerings are all too often a mishmash of bland, uninspiring and overtly commercial products.
The way I see it, the ‘quality’ issue isn’t so much the result of a lack of support, but rather where that support is coming from and where it’s being focused. I put the blame squarely on television companies and talent agencies, who are increasingly supplanting the waning studios. There is probably more money being poured into films than ever before because of them, but with the caveat that the finished product is tailored more to small-screen sensibilities and commercial imperatives. The studios once groomed actors, but in their absence that task falls to a limited number of disproportionately powerful talent agencies, who are more interested in creating cross-platform ‘multi-talents’ to maximise their income streams. From their perspective, television offers greater regularity and exposure, and TV companies are far more savvy about cross-platform promotion of their stars and products, and film’s more limited relegates it to an ancillary role. As Japanese television aesthetics (oriented more towards accessibility rather than realism) leach into film, the ability to pull off a convincing performance becomes less of a sought-after quality. Real actors still emerge, but they have a much harder time breaking through because of the quid-pro-quo relationship between the talent agency-television axis. And with the growing number of projects based on existing properties and/or originated by TV companies themselves, there’s also less need for directors to express their own voice.
Consequently, one area where there is undoubtedly a dearth of support is development of scripts and screenwriters. Most of the major studios have been upfront about shying away from original screenplays in favor of properties, such as book and manga adaptations or remakes of older films with name recognition. In this sense at least, Japan is no slouch compared to Hollywood. It’s another reason why many critically successful Japanese films are independent productions that few people get a chance to see.
Practically speaking, film students and young directors need grants to get started.
Which is exactly what the Bunkacho has been doing, stumping up cash for films like Omori Tatsushi’s heretical “The Whispering of the Gods” and John Williams’ labyrinthine “Starfish Hotel”. In fact it’s quite common these days to see the Bunkacho logo as the credits roll, so credit where credit’s due. There’s a lot more to be done: the government has at least been loosening its purse strings, and the potential’s there for significant improvement of the present support and promotional framework with the introduction of some foreign expertise. But expectations should be tempered by awareness of the existing commercial structures that dominate the film industry, which the Japan Times editorial didn’t really take into account.
The film industry itself isn’t in any danger of going under for a wee while yet, but genuinely talented actors and filmmakers, and great films, might well be classified as scarce commodities. But hasn’t that always been the case in Japan? Or anywhere for that matter?
Posted on Wednesday, 6 June 2007 at 3:58 pm
I know this isn’t Japanese film news per se, but bare with me for a second. Surely by now you’ve heard of John Cameron Mitchell’s “Shortbus“? The saucy one with all the verite bonking and anal anthems? After everything I’d read, what intrigued me the most about it was whether a Japanese distributor was going to take a risk on the film, especially considering how it’d look (or rather what you’d still be able to see of it) after after a good rogering from Eirin, the domestic film censorship body.
If you’re not familiar with film censorship standards in Japan, here they are in a nutsackshell: you can show as much graphic and/or psychological violence as you like, but the moment that trouser snakes and afro clams make an entrance (both figuratively and literally), the public’s fragile sensibilities must be protected by masking the offending naughty bits with fuzzy blobs (bokashi) or digital mozaics. The context of said genital exposure is usually not taken into consideration. It all seems a bit redundant in a country where porn shops set up over the road from public schools and parents take their little girls to festivals so they can straddle giant wooden todgers.
Well, those filthy pervs Asmik Ace are having a whack after all, putting the pic out in roadshow release this August beginning with Shibuya’s trendy Cinema Rise. And naturally Eirin have come to the party, slapping on an R-18 restriction and obscuring around 100 assorted meats throughout Shortbus’ 101-minute duration. Mitchell himself was brought in to oversee the modifications in New York and was duly diplomatic at a Tokyo press conference where he insisted that the film’s message hadn’t been lost, because you can still figure out what’s going on behind the blurry bits. This is obviously a man familiar with Japanese porn.
In fact, Eirin’s sticky fingerprints all over the screen are turning out to be a blessing in disguise for “Shortbus”’s publicity campaign: it’s already gained more media coverage than expected for such a limited release, with the excessive bokashi actually being suggested as a reason to see the film. As well as the sex, of course. That you won’t be able to see. (source: Sponichi)
P.S. A word of advice: stay away from Shuttle’s SS31T barebone kit. I bought one in a hurry to get back online after my old PC crapped itself last week, and then the damn thing ate my weekend. A pox on SIS motherboards.