There's an extraordinarily electrifying and exhilarating scene in Kazuaki Kiriya's live action rendition of the anime Casshan: Robot Hunter, where the protaganist Tetsuya, having realized that he is the reborn warrior Casshern, lays complete and utter waste to an impending army of invasion robots without so much as breaking a sweat, in between looking devastating stylish and with his affection Luna tucked safely in his arms. The adrenaline rush can be likened to watching the finer moments of those antiquated Hong Kong kungfu flicks where the hero finally learns his skills and starts to kick some, only this is shot with tons more style and coupled with excellent music.



Having raised the bar to its apex hitherto however, the plot starts its descent into sanitized morality issues and lengthy, philosophical ramblings on the ravages of war, but with a fairly disjointed and convoluted narrative so far, one finds it hard to relate to any of the characters, much less their idealistic musings. My take would be to sit in for the stunning visuals, but leave the human ethics lessons at home.

" How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. " -- Alexander Pope

Not enough praises can be sung of Michel Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, indeed, though filmlovers familiar with screenwriter Kaufman's work have come to expect much from his writings, the basis of which gave birth to bold and inventive works like Being John Malkovich and Adaptation, none of them exhibits the sensitivity and romantic longing that envelops Eternal Sunshine "like a soft blanket on a chilly night", quoting BFI's Sight and Sound. This added emotional element raises the film to a higher plane where, bar entities devoid of feelings, makes anyone wonder about their memory backlogs and if Lacuna(www.lacunainc.com)is really such a good idea.



Michel Gondry makes up a third of the triumvirate of genius minds, along with Spike Jonze and Chris Cunningham, whom with their pool of vastly influential MTVs have undeniable shaped the look of the industry. Come the day when Cunningham embarks on his feature, the creative circle would then be complete.

Early autumn is upon Tokyo and temperatures are taking a steady dip, hitherto 15C and going straight down till winter. Certainly one of the highlights of autumn here would be the beautiful fall foliage, think the gradiose setting where Maggie Cheung and Zhang Ziyi slugs it out in Hero, minus the morbidity of course. Gotta head down to Shinjuku Kouen for some shots once the leaves starts to scatter and will post them here soon.

Earlier on a post dinner conversation with Takeshi+Kojima and Shige had them caveating me about the killer winters here in Domiru Meguro where we reside, for a resident here had apparently froze to death last winter. I counted "can't sleep too much" far too many times to dismiss it as a joke, I suddenly feel like an eskimo living in the caps, give or take the polar bears. "SCHOLARSHIP STUDENT IN JAPAN FREEZES IN SLEEP, REQUIRES THAWING."

Now that would be quite a heading.

Oh and er, can someone please remind from time to time that I ought to be keeping up to speed with the Korean movie scene. Oldboy, Spring, Summer, just to name a few to get hold of.

Wes Anderson's audaciously eccentric The Royal Tenenbaums, though clearly not suited for all tastes, joins the ranks of films ( Hu Jinho's One Fine Spring Day been another ) that when given a second viewing, garners a considerably deeper dimension and quality.



Perhaps upon initial viewing in the theatres during its cinematic run I had yet to acquire a nuanced taste for Anderson's bizzare narrative style, but this time round the excellent performance of the actors, with their outrageously hilarious dialogues had me laughing out maybe too laughly. Coupled with an eclectic soundtrack, beautifully executed art direction and photography, this is one unforgettable film. With the Criterion edition dvd going for just 16.39, its impossible to pass this up.

Watch out for his next feature, The Life Aquatic.

In the climatic showdown from Mamoru Oshii's original Ghost In The Shell, Major Motoko Kusanagi confronts the cyberhacker Puppetmaster codenamed 2501, under the aegis of a formidable Type X10-er crab tank. This intense and impactful battle within the "floating museum", coupled with Kenji Kawai's haunting score is remembered as one of recent anime's most memorable scenes.



Innocence, though retaining most of the prequel's characters, embarks on a different storyline, this time told through the travails of Bateau and Togusa, both looking even more stoned than in the original. The film, now augmented with considerably more 3D shots, introduces sleeker mecha designs and stunning sets, while still keeping up with superb 2D animated characters. ( the quality varies at times, one thinks this might have to do with sub-outs for different animation houses ) Though not nearly matching the first film's brilliance, the weaker finale is alleviated in part by Motoko's return, whose "ghost" have been drifting in the network eversince her union with the Puppetmaster. Worth a look just for the visuals alone.

Not unlike the Pasar Malam we have at home, Tokyo's Meguro version of the bazzar ( called Matsuri, ie festival ) substitutes your local Kueh TuTu's and glassjelly assorted drinks with Takoyaki and Yakiniku stalls. Though missing the accompanying fairground that usually pairs with the Pasar Malam, the Masturi offers Kingyosukui - the goldfish scoop. The workings are austere; you pay 300 yen in exchange for a paper scoop - and you're free to scoop as many goldfishes as you like off a shallow tray - if you are good enough.



Takeshi and I had a field time watching this small little girl dressed in Yutaka attempting a bountiful catch, where she had 3 sizable goldfishes up against her scoop, her eyes lighting up momentarily till the combined weight tore through the thin paper. Kojima-chan laughs and adds the ambitious girl's going make it big when she grows up.

At the outset, Zhang Yimou's latest wuxia film House of Flying Daggers ( simply named Lovers here in Japan ) is a delightful visual treat - everything is just so beautifully photographed, from the flowy, opulent garbs adorned by the courtesans, with hues so intense the colours threaten to bleed off the screen, the rich, smooth tones of skin worn by the actors, bloodied nose notwithstanding, and the quintessential bamboo forest battle, drapped in a lush, misty green tint, just to name a few hightlights. In fact, one can probably argue that the director and DOP ( Zhang Xiaoding, who also shot the brilliant film Spring Subway ) spent more effort in prettying up the sets and characters than even the last grandiose work Hero.



Having said all these, it becomes all the more painful that the story fails on so many grounds, undermining the fantastic cinematography and what the film could have ultimately been. Perhaps it was a blessing that I was able to watch this amidst the proprieties of the Japanese, for I wager the singapore crowd would have had zero tolerance for any hammy spectacles, filling the cinema with uproarious laughter.

On a side note, my taiwanese friends were quick to quip that Andy Lau has been finding it hard to shake off his undercover woes ever since Infernal Affairs.

Sometimes there are moments in the course of one's languid mundane life when a piece of music playing off the radio or amps immortalizes a particular, brief span of one's life past, dizzying memories spinning back into your psyche, the zeitgeist rekindled. For filmmakers, animators and individuals working with moving visuals, the experience comes in the form of an unborn but lucid mise-en-scene, as yet defined but flushed with creative possibilites, its mood utterly defined by the music coursing through one's consciousness. Track number 3 on the Nouvelle Vogue CD is the latest additional to this family.

Now whatever filmwork that may be spurred on by this music is too early to say, but its definitely caught the attention. And if not, well, its still some great Bossanova music.

I'm starting to get quite numb to the mini quakes that come and go every few other week, nasty little critters that start by rocking the foundations and then everything else begins shaking in tandem motion, pretty much like a wasted you on a swell PVD night at the disco, only more real. These days I keep telling myself if its not capable of dethroning my stopclock off the top of my monitor there's no immediate need to evacuate. Takeshi+Kojima ups the ante by saying if it doesn't wake them up ( the last one, most powerful to date, came on a morning about 3, with only me still awake but they were obviously unperturbed, ), its trivial. For someone who usually doesn't rouse from my sleep unless I'm stabbed in the heart, that's so very comforting.

Anyway, a planned trip to the sea today with Takeshi+Kojima was thwarted by an impending typhoon, Takeshi conjuring up vivid and graphic descriptions of my gaunt and frail figure getting carried away by the gales and my molecular structure getting re-arranged in the process. Maybe next time. We ended up hanging around Ebisu, Shibuya and Ueno. Click here for Takeshi+Kojima's post.

Kickstarting the 2nd installment of the Spiderman series with a montage of comic panels by the great artist Alex Ross was certainly a welcoming way to setup the right mood, prepping the audience for the story ahead, and despite in my opinion, parts of the film that suffered from a rather awkward pace of editing and several repetitive scenes that didn't quite add additional value to the narrative, Spiderman 2 still scores pretty well with fantastically choreographed action sequences ( those who are somewhat familiar with CG, compositing and rotoscoping will have an idea just how much work was needed for the seamless integrated movement of Dr Oct's tentacles ) and the ever enjoyable J.Jameson, Parker's Daily Bugle boss spewing note-perfect, rapidfire caustic. Of course, "drowning" out a mini sun in the city's river depths was laughably ridiculous.

A night's out cycling trip with Takeshi+Kojima had me realize that Tokyo Towers ( made notably famous by the serial OverTime ) was but a mere 30 minutes cycle away, which makes it nearer than Shinjuku from our place. Anyway we were enroute to a bookstore in Roppongi Hills, your posh, up culture living district of Tokyo where seemingly everything is wafted with a palpable feel of swank. Washed in inadequency I sank into the comfort of books, the joint a classy 24 hr Basheer+borders, only cooler, but the price of this boon is levied in the cost of the books. Next we walked over to Roppongi Hills Mori Towers, where the Japan Premiere of The Last Samurai was held. Here a 5 star-ish cinema stands and heck, if I am to pay 25 dollars for a movie, let it be here, not so much for its posh deco and feel but because I at least get to choose where I sit.

Oh and, Steam boy is showing right here.

Just got word that Kazuaki Kiriya's sci-fi flick Casshern will be released on dvd in late October. I've yet to watch this, but I really like the main character design and if the trailer's any indication of how the film's final colour grading will be presented, its going to look fantastic, very much like what we've seen in UH3.

Meanwhile, news on setting up of Lucasfilm's Singapore branch have been confirmed, great news indeed. It'd be most interesting to see where the local animation scene will go from here.

Exhibiting palpable influences from an eclectic mix of Art Noveau, the Impressionists, Surrealists, Gustav Klimt, and manga art, Japanese illustrator Yoko Tanji's works ellicit an unspoken feel of quiet poignance, cast in autumn shades with gloom forever lurking round the corner. With a colour palette awash in sombre, intense reds and browns, oblivious, detached characters, felicity is probably not the artist's favourite subject.

www.tanji.jp

Getting blasted by sucessive waves of Hanabi "sonic booms" certainly doesn't sound like music to my ears, but just inevitable runoff from a solid, nonstop display of dizzying fireworks that lasted for an astounding 45 minutes. If there's any place to watch a decent Hanabi, Yamashita Park in Yokohama must rank amongst the tops - solitary, rocketing shards of flame that climbs rapidly, disappearing momentarily before inundating the entire sky with not one, but 3 staccato bursts of spiralling, blue light; slow travelling, red sparks that spawns a thousand, luminous offsprings; plain wierd fireworks that deposits lanterns like emanations; and not forgetting my personal favourite, the "Contact" effect, wave after wave of blinding, exploding incadescence that lights up the entire sky for a brief but estactic moment, thunderous cheers rousing from beneath.

When the spectacle was finally over, my ears were throbbing, neck stiff from the prolonged skyward angle, and my back aching after standing for too long, but heck, it was worth it. One down, its Hanabi season in Japan.

Coming unbelievablely close to crying to happy tears, today's visit to the Ghibli Museum in Mitaka, Tokyo had me see the entire creative smorgasbord of Miyazaki's background works, so overwhelmingly powerful in its unique beauty and expressiveness I was in absolute awe time and time again. While many of the exhibits were clearly designed with children in mind ( in another sense Miyazaki's works tend to bring out the hidden child in our psyche ), the mockup animation studio, plastered all over with ORIGINAL MIYAZAKI coloured concept sketches, storyboards, stole most of my time as I pored over each drawing, in particular those of Mononoke Hime, as if the close physical proximity in the presence of such grandeur would transfer some of its creative potency to me. Alas, nothing.



By a mere stroke of luck, Pixar Animation Studios was also hosting an exhibition of its concept works under the auspices of Miyazaki. On its own this would have generated an enormous amount of excitement ( all the concept works are also originals, the pastels on the Finding Nemo coloured storyboards still flaky ), but when pitched against Ghibli's wonderful work I couldn't bring myself to appreciate it fully. Certainly the animators from Pixar attest to the influence of Miyazaki's works ( see picture above ), where they've painted a much iconic Totoro poster complete with Mike and Sullivan, surrounded by signatures and praises from many of their animators, the main caption reading "To Hayao Miyazaki : Your work is an inspiration to us."

I read with a mixture of disdain, grate and insufferance on the part of the rearers the Straits Times ( online ) article : "Luohan no longer a prized catch now", how the iniquited, ostensibly luck-bringing, great fengshui inducing fish is been abandoned in the truckloads by their capricious owners. To quote, "Oversupply killed their value and appeal. 'After a while, they became so cheap, they had no value. So there was no point,' ". How convienient for you buggers, but unfortunately the Flowerhorn's fate was sealed the day some anonymous idiot thought it smart to meddle the fates with yet annother innocuous fish, as yet more other idiots bought it hook line and sinker.

Don't tell me because people appreciate the Luohan for its intrinsic beauty; I know rearing fishes have some therapeutic merit but this fish justs looks...unsightly compared to his other aquatic brethren. This deplorable fad is just like the bubble tea boom a few years ago, only this time the precipitate is a living object and can't be poured down your sink, but rather inundating the island's freshwater bodies with new, befuddled inhabitants. You can imagine my incredulity when I last saw a whole school of them swimming along the bays of the Singapore River, no joke.

Let's just hope no one decides next that some poor animal is really excellent for ushering in good fengshui, or woe, woe to their species.

Tian Zhuangzhuang's Springtime in a Small Town is a quaint little piece of cinema set in China during the post 2nd world war period, a brief, uneasy intermission between the end of the Japanese invasion and the Communist Takeover. In a small, derelict war torn town in Southern China, a doctor ( Zhang Zhichen ) from Shanghai pays an unexpected visit to his old school friend Dai Liyan, whose wife ( Yuwen ) he now recognizes as the woman he had a brief but passionate affair ten years ago. No longer in close proximity with his husband because of his poor health and temper, while still bearing feelings for her former beau, the arrival of the guest sets off an uneasy tension amidst the small household, complicated more by Liyan's younger sister who also takes a liking for doctor.



Springtime is one of those films I've come to recognized ( together with a few others like the Korean Take Care of my Cat and One Fine Spring Day ) where seemingly nothing important seems to happen and the narrative justs drags on ceaselessly, certain anathema to Hollywooders and many other moviegoers, but whose real value lies in a small conscious effort on the viewer's part to invest alittle patience or even better, a second viewing, where they'd be greatly rewarded.

Beautifully shot in slow, deliberate takes through the shadowy corridors of the old house, it evokes the same aesthetics last felt in Wong Kar Wai's In the Mood for Love, no stranger because of DP Li Pingbin, who worked together with Doyle.

Highly recommended, but Hollywooders *yawns heard*, you've been so caveated.

GIVE ME HALF A YEAR OF MY LIFE BACK !!! THAT'S 6 MONTHS, 24 WEEKS, 180 DAYS, 4320 HOURS, 259200 MINUTES, 1555200 SECONDS, WHATEVER. GIVE IT BACK TO ME !!!! MY PRECCCIOUSSS !!!!

http://www.straitstimes.com.sg/latest/story/0,4390,256397,00.html?

Now sitting in front of a whole class of university girls doing a self-introduction (????)was not something I anticipated coming anytime soon, but today while visiting a Sensei ( to discuss a summer trip to Korea ) at Musashino Joshi Gakuen (??????) I was caught right in the middle of her class and had to yield helplessly. Giggles, curious stares like I was some wierd zoo animal, I was feeling dizzy immediately with all the blood from my brain drained to swell my then completely reddened face.

That position however, had a heck of a paramount view below, haven't seen such a spectacular vista for a while. Now there was Yumiko...Mai...Ayumi...what's your name again ? *laughs*

It was way back during my secondary school days when I first studied about the pioneer artists of Singapore in my arts theory class, a small group of talented individuals banded together by their collective passion for the visual arts. Some names that are still fresh in my mind were the late Chen Wen hsi, Chen Chong Swee, Georgette Chen, the calligrapher Pan Shou, as well as Liu Kang ( His son Liu Thai Ger is presently the chairman of NAC, the body overlooking my scholarship ) who has just passed away 2 days ago, the last of the pioneer artists.

During a Chen Wen hsi Retrospective exhibition that was held at the Singapore National Museum about 10 years ago, I had the good fortune of meeting with Mr Liu Kang personally. I remember vividly how me and my classmates caught him sipping ice-cream with his wife at the YMCA Macdonalds, where after we followed him and asked for his autograph at the exhibition. Dispite the huge age gap he was most hospitable and approachable, exhorting us in our pursuit of the arts as young individuals, just like he had done so. Although pursuing a different course in the arts now, the experience I had with him them was certainly one of the highlights of my younger school days.

Heat, an explosive and highly entralling crime genre piece was the first exposure I had of director Michael Mann's outstanding work. His sleek portrayal of the 2 hardened protanganists, namely De Niro and Pacino, ( especially the tense exchange in the cafe has come to be remembered as one of recent crime cinema's most memorable scenes. ) as well as the film's many electrifying scenes have had palpable influence in the film industry, including Hong Kong's laudable Infernal Affairs and PTA.

The Insider is an equally impressive piece, with much less action set pieces but no less engaging plot. Al Pacino once again, together with Russell Crowe and Christopher Plummer ( forever remembered as the handsome Captain in the Sound of Music, having lost none of his charisma ) lend themselves to powerful performances, topped by Mann's sensuous use of music and Dante Spinotti's beautiful cinematography, and you have a masterful piece at hand.

Michael Mann is fast becoming one of my favourite directors.

A Sight and Sound review of the Insider is posted on the comments page.

Hellboy, Kill Bill 2, and now, Troy. The list keeps growing, not to mention having missed the entire Singapore Film Festival altogether. I am so not okay about this. Really missing the sundays in Singapore when I would be watching very often, 2 shows back to back with my movie kakis Gatchaman and Torei, then talk about it over dinner, when a single miserable ticket here in Japan would cost just as much as all the activities mentioned above, add free seating ( reads : you're not guaranteed a seat for a popular film even if you have a ticket, gotta wait for the next screening ), and you have a wonderful time at the cinema.

So if you're a Singaporean ranting about expensive movie tickets on weekends, quit complaining. Period.

Which reminds me : Heard a conversation by working professionals once on ticket prices for the Singapore Film Festival : *in an incredulous tone* " Freaking $8.50 per ticket ????!!! Why not just wait for it to screen on Arts Central ? I refuse to be held on a ransom like this !! "

I almost wanted to bash his f**king head in, and pardon my language.

Art exhibitions seem to be in the wind recently, this morning together with 2 taiwanese classmates I visited the Bunkamura Art Museum in Shibuya, Tokyo to view the Monet - Great Impressionists exhibition, which includes pieces by some other notable painters like Seurat, Signac, Bonnard and Renoir. While many of the artists' greater works were not on show, ie Renoir's "Le dejeuner des canotiers", more commonly known as the Amelie Painting, it was exhilarating to see Monet's Waterlilies in person.


Tokyoscape, on the way home from Shibuya.

Later at a bookstore in Shibuya, my attention is quickly drawn to a promotional movie trailer playing off a small TV, its music, mood and visual style just screaming Shunji Iwai. Hana & Alice, Iwai's latest film. I was seized by an intense and involuntary urge to tear off the movie poster and boot, but my friends shook their heads violently in disapproval. Saddened, I was however jolted back to my senses, remembering succintly the exact purpose of my studies in Japan, the earnest passion I have for the moving image and narrative that was in a huge part, attributed to the artistic influences bore by watching Iwai's cinematic magnum opus, Love Letter.

For the uninitiated, learning the Japanese language is an exhaustive, detrimental exercise that hacks away at your english roots, enervate and debilitate, period. Its 3 form writing system, namely Hiragana, Katagana and Kanji ( chinese characters ), scares the bollocks out of non-native learners and make Japanese one of the toughest language to master. For english speaking folks, its the katagana form that carries the heaviest destructive payload. Katagana is used extensively to pronounce foreign names and subject matter, so for example "Tape Recorder" in english would translate as :

"Te-pu-re-ko-da"

1) Curtain - "ka-te-n"
2) Locker - "Ro-ka"
3) Mechanical pencil - "She-ya-pu-pen-she-ru" ( sharp pencil )

And don't even get me started on the word "accessories", or "whiteboard".