Film Bantha: November 2018

Saturday 24 November 2018

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 23. Symbol

People embrace the enchanting glow of the big screen for all manner of reasons; to journey to faraway places they could only ever imagine, to experience the escapism of a captivating story, or maybe to indulge in an obsession with the world of cinema. For me, all three of these reasons apply - and many more - but first and foremost is the satisfaction of recommending obscure films to other like-minded individuals who adopt them as their new favourites.

With over 100 years worth of films to choose from, and many of these now available at the click of a button, it can be extremely difficult to narrow your choices down to pick a film to watch. Although cinema has been around for over four times longer than my life on this earth, I have spent what some may consider an unhealthy amount of these years delving into the history of films to discover some of the best hidden gems out there.

This series of articles aims to highlight the overlooked masterpieces that I have unearthed whilst exploring the forgotten recesses of cinema. Take a gamble on any one of these films and I guarantee that you will be eagerly awaiting all future instalments in this series. You may well have heard of a number of these films; my aim isn't merely to shine a spotlight on the most obscure films out there, but to share my enjoyment of those films which don't have the cult following I believe they deserve.

Symbol
Director - Hitoshi Matsumoto
Country - Japan

Year - 2009

Runtime - 93 Minutes

If you ever reach the level of obsession with films that I have, you may find that it is possible to 'burn out' and lose interest in the world of cinema temporarily. Whilst experiencing this passing phase it can be difficult to pluck up the motivation to watch a film, and it usually takes a strange or unique film (that is unlike anything you have ever seen before) to remind you exactly how much fun the viewing experience can be. Enter Symbol, one of the most bizarre Japanese films I have ever seen, and one that reignited my passion for the wold of cinema. A film that defies description - though I will try - and takes you on a crazy and completely unpredictable journey.

Symbol opens on a dingy Mexican backlot where a lucho libre wrestler is preparing for an upcoming fight, whilst his family go about their daily routines. This fairly innocuous opening segues into a much stranger story in which a Japanese man (Hitoshi Mushimoto) awakes to find himself trapped in a large, empty, white room. The link between these two situations is not clear at first but, like all good storytellers, director and star Mushimoto weaves the two disparate threads together with a brilliant sleight of hand.

Although the Mexican family do have a part to play in the film's story, we spend most of our time alongside the confused man as he tries to figure out how to escape from his puzzling predicament. Those familiar with escape rooms will delight in the inventive methods of storytelling on display here. At times it feels like you are watching a friend complete a live action Nintendo game, with all of the craziness you would expect from such a prospect. The humour throughout is unashamedly silly, and this makes Symbol’s ascendancy to its philosophical leanings in the later stages of the film a welcome addition. Matsumoto is clearly toying with his audience and delivers some surprising food for thought after he reels you in with his comic madness.

Amazingly, Symbol was not well received in Japan but it has attracted a cult following from Western audiences who find themselves enamoured by the genuinely unique approach it takes to storytelling. Nothing is lost in translation as the surreal nature of the film means that it only briefly touches on cultural aspects that may lose relevance outside of its native audience. At times the special effects can appear slightly clunky but this actually adds to the charm of Symbol; if everything was too well refined the scenario could be in danger of exuding a sinister edge instead of the playful ambience that is paramount to the audience’s enjoyment of the picture.

It is rare for a critic to struggle in finding reference points to other comparable films either stylistically or plot-wise but Symbol really is one of a kind. The slapstick humour has its cornerstone in the visual comedy of silent cinema although this is given a compelling modern and absurd twist by Mushimoto, whose imagination conjures up all kinds of sensational plot devices to drive the story forward. For a film that takes place mostly in a single location, Symbol never loses steam, and remains an intriguing mystery until the very end. If you are ever in the mood for an uplifting, amusing and incredibly quirky film then look no further than Symbol. It may have you scratching your head in parts but is still likely to lift your spirits and remind you how much fun can be had when you take a punt on a film that is completely and utterly bonkers, in the best possible way.

If you take the time to watch Symbol then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

Sunday 11 November 2018

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 22. Tetsuo: The Iron Man

Tetsuo: The Iron Man

Director -

Shinya Tsukamoto

Country - Japan

Year - 1989

Runtime - 67 Minutes

Every so often I stumble upon a film that leaves me completely stunned and utterly mesmerised by the sheer brilliance of its director’s vision. One such encounter was the first time I experienced the crazy cult classic Tetsuo: The Iron Man - a perverse exploration of body horror that was unlike anything I had ever seen at the time. Its nightmarish scenario boldly depicts an amalgamation of flesh and metal with the use of jaw-dropping practical effects that are as impressive as they are horrifying. This was clearly the work of a visionary genius and Tetsuo wormed its way into my list of favourite films as I was bowled over by both the audacity and insanity of the twisted imagination that brought this incredible story to life so vividly.

Tetsuo tells the story of a disturbed man who cuts his leg open and inserts a metal rod into the wound. When he finds the wound festering with maggots he flees in terror and is run over by a young salaryman who enlists the help of his girlfriend to dispose of the body in a nearby river. Shortly after, the salaryman then finds his own body is slowly metamorphosing into a metallic form and he comes under attack from strange metallic humanoid creatures in a series of staggering set pieces that veer wildly out of control. Taking its cues from the darkest recesses of Lynch and Cronenberg’s work, Tetsuo ups the ante tenfold with its realistic representation of the gruesome operation that sets the stage at the start of the film and the bizarre metallic (and phallic) mutations that emerge from the salaryman and his aggressors as the carnage progresses.

By utilising stop-motion to bring his creations to life, director Shinya Tsukamoto enhances the sensation of the machine-like motions of his metallic monstrosities as they engage in ultra-violent and unsettling conflicts with the afflicted salaryman. These hyperkinetic sequences are astonishing to behold and display an array of talent in practical effects as Tsukamoto and his team’s production decisions were largely driven by budgetary constraints. He shot the film in black and white with expressionistic lighting used throughout and this adds to the cyberpunk sheen that permeates the film’s set designs, creating a truly unique and warped science-fiction horror.

The abrasive industrial soundtrack provides an intense backdrop to the visceral machinations of horror that invade the salaryman’s life. It pulsates and chugs like the workings of a factory shop floor only to fade away whenever the story (only occasionally) returns to a more normal semblance of reality. There are two instances where this thumping wall of sound is replaced by a curious playful jazz number that acts as a light-hearted prelude or coda to the proceedings, reminding you that Tsukamoto is toying with the audience as much as he is with his ever suffering characters. This stark contrast to the relentless assault of the heavy soundtrack allows for a brief respite from the onslaught of madness; its jarring effect acting as a welcome relief that enables you to gather your senses in preparation for that which is yet to come, or to reflect on that which has passed.

The depraved sexual scenes push the boundaries of acceptability and cement the film’s reputation as a horror targeted at audiences with a liberal sensibility. Many of these extreme sequences are likely to repulse those who are squeamish and will certainly test the mettle of horror fans accustomed to graphic depictions of violence and gore. This is a violent and unrelenting descent into madness and the experimental cinematic techniques used to tell the story are as spellbinding as the practical effects. The care and attention taken to bring this demented tale to life is clear to see and - if you embrace the madness - it is an enthralling and unforgettable cinematic head trip that will inevitably leave you reeling in disbelief.

If you take the time to watch Tetsuo: The Iron Man then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here

Friday 2 November 2018

100 Essential Films That Deserve More Attention - 21. Carriage to Vienna

Carriage to Vienna
Director - Karel Kachyna

Country - Czechoslovakia

Year - 1966

Runtime - 78 Minutes

Czechoslovakian film-makers have contributed a great amount to the world of cinema throughout its exciting development over the past hundred years. Like many post-war European countries, the strife and hardship suffered by its people gave rise to powerful and important films being made that created waves throughout Europe and beyond or, in some cases, led to the films in question being banned due to their controversial nature.

Carriage to Vienna falls into the latter camp but was eventually released 23 years after its completion when the communist regime who banned it were finally forced out of power in 1989, and it has since been reappraised as a minor masterpiece of Czech cinema. It still has a long way to go before gaining the relative popularity which is afforded some of its closest contemporaries such as Closely Observed Trains or Diamonds in the Night but I am hoping that others who enjoy the film as much as I do will continue to spread the word of its brilliance and importance.

Taking place over the last days of World War Two, Carriage to Vienna is set entirely in dense woodland where a young widow, Krista (Iva Janžurová) is accosted by two Austrian deserters, one of whom is seriously wounded, and she is forced to accompany them on their retreat home when they commandeer her horse-drawn carriage. Fearing for her life she attempts to dispose of their weapons along the journey, using each rest stop to her advantage by hiding a dagger or a gun in nearby thickets, relying on the knowledge that an axe is secretly stowed under her carriage for protection. Initial hostilities and language barriers eventually make way for a begrudged mutual respect but this, along with her loyalties to her country, is tested while they traverse a route fraught with danger.

If you have a predilection for bleak and depressing war films then Carriage to Vienna should strike a chord with you. Whereas war merely plays its part as a backdrop to the tragic events – there are no gunfights here – its presence is felt through the motivations and actions of the main characters who are torn between self-preservation and allegiance to their home nations. Brief glimpses of tanks and groups of partisans through the foliage serve as a reminder of the inherent threats that lurk close by, threats that are only avoided thanks to Krista’s skilful control over the two horses that draw her carriage.

Apart from Krista and the two soldiers there are only a handful of supporting characters, all with relatively little screen time, and the success of the film rests largely upon the astounding performances by the leads. The emotionally charged portrayal of Krista by Iva Janžurová offers a stark insight into a widow in turmoil and Jaromír Hanzlík’s depiction of the able-bodied Hans is an excellent rendering of a soldier on the verge of breaking point. Their characters both undergo a dramatic catharsis which is instigated when Han’s aggression turns full circle and he begins to make unwanted advances towards Krista. Alone and lost in the woods, they have no-one to turn to but each other, as the wounded soldier is largely unconscious throughout.

Every element of Carriage to Vienna is a work of fine art, with director Karel Kechnya demonstrating a masterful command of the medium that resonates throughout his unique vision. By using the natural borders of the woodland paths to frame the action, the film has a subtle picturesque quality. The camera is often placed on the carriage or behind it to put us firmly in the character’s viewpoint, encapsulating their isolation and sense of helplessness given the vast scope of the surrounding woodlands that fade into the seemingly endless horizon. An evocative classical organ accompaniment chimes perfectly with the downbeat subject matter, intensifying the impact of key scenes and enhancing the bleak mood that permeates the film.

Considering its short runtime, Carriage to Vienna still packs one hell of a gut punch, and also impressively transcends the focus of its political agenda, an agenda that can so often hold film-makers back from realising their true potential. This is a story that can be appreciated on many levels, and its sombre denouement is a striking and fitting closure that is likely to leave you shell-shocked as it comes full circle with a devastating blow.

If you take the time to watch Carriage to Vienna then it would be awesome if you could also take the time to let me know what you thought of it, either by commenting below or tweeting me @filmbantha. Thanks, and enjoy!

For previous instalments in the series click here