Saturday, 25 February 2023

Cure (1997)


 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Cure (1997) – K. Kurosawa

On the surface, Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s serial killer thriller is just that, a police procedural slash horror film along the lines of Seven (1995), taking place in a spooky decrepit Japan that would later show up in J-Horror videogames. Koji Yakusho is the detective who needs to solve the bizarre murders, all featuring an X slashed in the upper chest of the victims, that are strangely committed by different perpetrators who are easily caught and confess but can’t quite remember their own motives.  Beneath the surface, there are much deeper themes and preoccupations; the film is complex and each viewer might just have their own interpretation of what happens.  Eventually, the investigation settles on the mysterious amnesiac, Mamiya (Masato Hagiwara), who refuses to answer any questions but shows a keen interest in asking questions of others. His questions seem to seek to uncover deep resentments in those he encounters and Detective Takabe (Yakusho) is not immune to such prodding, since his wife suffers from a serious mental illness and may represent a burden to him. As the film progresses, we begin to worry that Takabe himself is losing his grip, a cliché in this genre but the supernatural overtones in this case add an extra layer of dread on top of the despair. As in some of his subsequent films, Kurosawa seems to be questioning the ability for humans to really connect with each other, to transcend their selfish and even petty individual preoccupations and bond. Even when organised as a society, the implication here is that “hell is other people” with social interactions and expectations leading to perceived slights and buried resentments. But the film never says any of this explicitly – we never know Mamiya’s motives – and even after the film winds down to its inevitable conclusion, we are treated to one final scene that manages to leave things open-ended. Dark and dismaying but a treat for fans of this genre.


Friday, 3 February 2023

The Banshees of Inisherin (2022)


 ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Banshees of Inisherin (2022) – M. McDonagh

Martin McDonagh’s Oscar nominated film comes across like a quirky short story, the kind that we point to for examples of irony or other literary forms. That is to say that the characters don’t always act in predictable ways but they might represent an exaggerated aspect of human nature, deployed to highlight or satirise ordinary traits or behaviours. Colin Farrell plays Pádraic Súilleabháin, a regular bloke on the isolated isle of Inisherin (off the western coast of Ireland) who wakes up to find that his best friend Colm Doherty (Brendan Gleeson) no longer wants to talk to him. When he finds out that Doherty now thinks he is “too dull”, he can’t let it go.  The rest of the movie tells the story of their dispute. At times, it is blackly comic. However, there is a deep sadness here too, stemming in part from the situation that this isolated community finds itself in back in 1923 Ireland. There’s a war on the mainland but the more difficult factor is loneliness (felt most acutely by Pádraic’s spinsterish sister Siobhán, played by Kerry Condon). Although he is often annoying, young Dominic Kearney (Barry Keoghan) might be the most tragic character in the film, even if he is thought to be the village idiot. His problems might clearly be attributed to the problems of isolated communities but McDonagh (a playwright who also wrote the screenplay) clearly has a bigger target in mind: the wayward and obstinate decisions we humans make when we think about ourselves rather than others. Cinematically, the film is all rocky cliffs topped with lush green fields above beautiful lakes or oceans. The period setting and costumes are beautifully observed. All four principals were deservingly nominated for academy awards, as was the director and screenplay. Recommended.