Lost In Translation

Avatar

I just saw Avatar the other day and it is an event-like experience in that it is worth going to the theater to have the 3D experience in order to inhabit another world. There wasn’t much of a story, but I don’t think it matters all that much. It actually reminds me of Apocalypto, Mel Gibson’s, adrenaline thrill fest, in its intensity and simplicity of enjoying the ride so to speak. You gotta respect Cameron's ability to make entertaining spectacles that get butts in the seats.

GQ Best Of In Seattle

Two Seattle establishments got mentions in GQ's year end Food round up, so I'd like to check them out next time I'm in town: 

5. Anchovies & Olives, Seattle 

The best empty restaurant I've ever seen. Anchovies & Olives stays open until midnight in a city where everybody is in bed by 10 p.m. I arrived an hour before closing time. I not only ate alone, I also drank alone—even the bar was vacant. The place, as you might expect, was dark, quiet, and still. I expected to encounter Edward Hopper painting a West Coast version of Nighthawks. All the same, chef de cuisine Charles Walpole was on the job, and his food was everything the ambience was not: bright, vibrant, and lively. So-called Soft Boiled Eggs, hard enough to pick up, the yolks gorgeously creamy, topped with house-smoked tuna. Whole fried baby hake presented on a platter like the one your mother saved from Hickory Farms. Wonderful pastas, some pristinely Italian, like bigoli (thick whole-wheat strands) with garlic, chilies, and artichokes; some exuberantly American, like gnocchi with chunks of swordfish, celery, escarole, and salsa verde. Finally, a real reason to stay sleepless in Seattle.

Quinn's also gets a mention as a great beer bar.

A Hundred Years Of Japanese Film

I found Donald Richie’s book A Hundred Years of Japanese Film to be a very engaging overview of the Japanese film history. It is clear that Richie’s knowledge of Japanese culture informs his observation about the history and development of film. For example in the first chapter Richie discussed the importance of the benishi (or narrator) for audiences. The beneshi were active until the early 30 s because they not only commented on silent films but they also provided information about the west since many Japanese were unfamiliar with customs of the west due to the self-imposed closed country prior to the Meiji restoration. According to Richie this helps explain the Japanese affection for teachers, tour guides, sommeliers and other conduits for acquisition of new experience. He also pointed out that many short films were looped and this process led to the tradition of lengthy films and still can be seen in commercials in Japan today. I found Chapter three to one of the most interesting sections of the book, because this is where Richie discussed most of the post war masters of Japanese cinema: Ozu and Naruse, Mizoguchi and the Period Film, social issues films by Kurosawa, Kinoshita, and Ichikawa. In chapter four Richie discussed the devastating effects of TV on the film industry and the studio system. He also discussed the notion of two Japans. One is the “official” version that has Noh, tea ceremony, Mizoguchi, Ozu, late Kurosawa, along with the approved high-class virtues of fidelity and devotion. The other version is the “real” version of which the people do not behave like the ”official” version. They are seen in the films of Kawashima or Imamura and they are selfish, lusty, amoral and all of the vitality of Japan comes from their members. The sections on the Japanese New Wave filmmakers like Oshima, Yoshida, adn Shinoda is enlightening as well. In the final chapter Richie discussed the introduction of genre film in the industry due to the American influence of films. There is a natural connection between yakuza films and the mysteries and thrillers from America. He rounds up the book by discussing the documentary filmmaking scene and the rise of independent filmmaking. There is s a discussion of the new generation filmmakers with an audience abroad like Takashi Kitano, Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Shinji Aoyama, and Takashi Miike, as well as the popularity of animation. It is a good overview and provides a lot of general commentary about Japan and Japanese culture.

The Insect Woman Redux

I was intrigued by Shohei Imamura and his preoccupation of the lower classes the first time I read about him in Ian Buruma’s book Behind The Mask. Insect Woman is the first film I saw at a retrospective of Japanese film at The Japan Foundation. Now seeing it in context to two of his other films (Pigs And Battleships and The Pornographers), I can see it as being fairly representative of his vision as a film maker. The Japanese title is “Nippon konchuki” or “Japanese entomology,” and this suggests a sort of scientific distance from the subject. Imamura also has a penchant for sensuous women who survive in the face of struggle through her resilience. Tome, the heroine, has lead a difficult life by the time she has escaped from her agrarian existence and birthing of a bastard child to Tokyo where she manages to find some success and happiness, as a Madame of a brothel before falling again. The introduction and closing provide bookends to story showing an insect and woman struggling up hills. I find Imamura’s films fascinating because he chooses to chronicle the unofficial version of Japan that of pimps, prostitutes, and other people from the underbelly of society. The Criterion edition includes the usual excellent bonus material: a fascinating essay by Dennis Lim, a conversation between Shohei Imamura and critic Tadao Sato, and an interview with critic and historian Tony Rayns.

Shamaim

Shamaim, an Israeli restaurant in Ekoda near Ikebukuro, is a Tokyo institution providing healthy, reasonably priced middle eastern fare for many years. I recently had a bonenkai with some coworkers there and it made me realize what a great place it is.

 

New Cult Canon: Bad Santa

Bad Santa, probably my favorite Billy Bob Thornton film and a holiday classic, gets the New Cult Canon treatment:

Point being, Zwigoff is the rare filmmaker who knows how to do smart lowbrow. Respected directors aren’t supposed to do fart jokes, and they’re also not supposed to touch material as vile and misanthropic as 2002’s Bad Santa, the ultimate in holiday counter-programming. But Zwigoff, who emerged on the scene with the great documentary Crumb, has a Crumb-like contempt for fancy-pants elitism even as he operates outside of the mainstream, so he’s a stranger to both worlds. At the same time, his films have to appeal to someone, especially a genuine studio comedy like Bad Santa, so he has to straddle those worlds as well, which here means a tone that pushes the boundaries of good taste while holding just a little back. Zwigoff’s sour, inebriated mall Santa is bad, but in his perverse way, he has as much universal appeal as jolly old St. Nick: Unless you have a superhuman tolerance for the hassles of the holiday season, there’s a downside to the most wonderful time of the year.

Nevertheless, Disney was deeply unhappy with Bad Santa in the months and weeks leading up to its release. Owning Miramax (and its genre-movie label Dimension, which ultimately releasedBad Santa) had always given the studio some degree of plausible deniability; it could reap the benefits of adult-oriented fare like Pulp Fiction without sullying its squeaky-clean image, and claim to respect the sovereignty of Bob and Harvey Weinstein if any controversy took hold. But Santa Claus is a sacred figure, and the movies had never really questioned that before, much less turned him into an insatiable boozehound and ass-man who’s the primary source of nearly 300 profanities in 90 minutes. The contentious back-and-forth between Zwigoff and his bosses resulted in a tacked-on ending that tried to give audiences a softer landing, plus at least three different DVD cuts, including a longer “unrated” cut called Badder Santa and a “director’s cut” that’s actually three minutes shorter than the theatrical version. The movie turned out to be a hit in spite of Disney’s transparent embarrassment over it, which speaks to how strong a chord the film struck with people thirsting for holiday fun without the obligatory treacle. 

Space Station?

No, subway passageway at Iidabashi Oedo line station.

 

Zeitoun

Dave Eggers has been writing fascinating nonfiction books by people who have had horrific experiences and managed to survive them with grace. The first of these books, What Is The What? Tells the story of one of Africa’s “lost boys” and his struggle for survival in and success in America. The latest, Zeitoun, tells the story of an Islamic American family’s plight during Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. It tells the story of a city caught off guard, the generous helping spirit of one man, and the failure of institutions long after the fact of wrongly incarcerating the man and the struggle to return to normalcy after the natural disaster. Eggers tell the story with workman like efficiency and always reminds me how relatively easy I’ve had it throughout my life. I also applaud the fact that Eggers donates the profits from these books to the families and sets up foundations to help others like them. It is a very worthwhile and altruistic thing to do. I recommend you by a copy to support this wonderful concept.

More End Of The Decade Film Lists

Slate has an interactive list that rates movies according to their position on different end of the year lists. 

Salon has a series where different film makers and critics select one film that was their favorite of the decade.

Old Wives Tales: Gargling

I have a pet peeve with gargling. In Japan everyone is convinced that it prevents the flu. In fact I sometimes have to witness old men and women gargling in the staff room at various universities I work at. I have always suspected that it is just another old wives tale. The Japan Times Zeitgiest column looks at this issue:

In fact, in the Sept. 14, 2007, issue of Internal Medicine, this team published findings that address the very question we ask. The research is titled "Can We Prevent Influenza-like Illnesses by Gargling?" and basically consists of further analysis of an earlier trial. The conclusion is particularly worth noting: "We could not demonstrate significant preventive effects of gargling against influenza-like illnesses."

No "significant preventive effects"? Then why in the world is the MHLW recommending that people gargle to avoid contracting the flu? Mostly because of custom and the earlier trial on which these findings are based.