Pale Flower (1964)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Pale Flower (1964) – M. Shinoda

Muraki has just been let out of prison for a gangland killing but finds that his boss now has a truce with the enemy gang.  He shrugs it off, as his interest it taken up by a mysterious lady gambler who is bored enough by life to try anything. Muraki tags along, sort of drifting through the underworld. Masahiro Shinoda creates a stylish “new wave” environs for this tired hard-boiled yakuza to haunt, all moody high contrast B&W.  The gambling dens where they play hanafuda (a sort of Japanese blackjack with wooden cards) are just parts of the void where time and money disappear. In the end, to an English-language opera by Purcell, Muraki carries out one last job, to show his lady gambler true nihilism. This film created the mould that later Yakuza films would seek to fill.

The Last Wave (1977)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Last Wave (1977) – P. Weir

This is Weir’s white western take on the dreamtime, the aboriginal spiritual plane.  He doesn’t purport to understand and he passed the script through some tribal elders and added material that they suggested.  The indigenous actors here, apart from David Gulpilil (who famously appeared in Walkabout), are non-professionals brought in by Nandjiwarra Amagula who plays Charlie, the elder with the magical powers. Richard Chamberlain is the protagonist with whom we identify as he makes contact with a secretive Aboriginal group through his involvement as their lawyer in a murder case and with the dreamtime through a series of premonitions and visions.  The film is full of foreboding from start to finish and a persistent low rumbling on the soundtrack keeps viewers on edge. A very mysterious film, filled with beautiful images, that ties up some loose ends, but leaves an ominous feeling in the mind. Perhaps this has something to do with white destruction of indigenous cultures?

Kundun (1997)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Kundun (1997) – M. Scorsese

Here we have a biopic of the early life of the current (14^th) Dalai Lama – from his selection as the reincarnation of the 13^th when only a child to his upbringing by Regents (with his own previously poor family given a privileged place) and spiritual training to his growing awareness of politics and the threat of the newly communist Chinese (who subsequently invaded).  Although the film tends to drag in some of the early phases (with the D. L. played sequentially by four different non-professional Tibetan actors, some related to the 14^th himself), it picks up momentum as it progresses, aided by Philip Glass’s score, until I ceased to notice time passing (a good thing).  Of course, the fact that the actors were made to speak English (undoubtedly a concession to the American audience) is annoying, but in other respects Scorsese acquits himself admirably. Indeed, he manages to create a sort of spiritually aware state with intercut images from dreams or visions and, importantly, calls attention to the ongoing plight of the Tibetans. In fact, this Dalai Lama is still in exile in India, hoping to return to Lhasa. Moreover, the film looks beautiful, as photographed by Roger Deakins.  Don’t confuse this with that Brad Pitt film (as I seem to have done in waiting so long to view it).

Quatermass and the Pit (1967)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Quatermass and the Pit (1967) – R. W. Baker

Heady blend of science fiction and horror from Nigel Kneale (screenwriter) courtesy of Hammer films (after a run as a BBC TV series).   A treasured VHS tape now replaced by blu-ray looks a lot better but art direction and top notch special effects were never the focus of this flick.  Instead, the superb plot links a possible spaceship dug up at a tube station being renovated with tales of Satan and malevolent ghosts across the centuries, suggesting a possible influence on human mob behaviour, suggestibility, and even evil itself. Prof. Quatermass conflicts with the military who think the spaceship is an unexploded bomb and won’t listen to the possibility of genetic experimentation (prophetic for 1967). Lots of echoes of these themes in other later films and in culture itself.

The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (2013)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The Hobbit:  The Desolation of Smaug (2013) – P. Jackson

A childhood favourite (now preserved at Mom’s house in a green leather-bound volume with runic lettering) called to me and I left the house to see some 3D (good for depth of field, if not for the eyes/head/stomach).  Having been unexpectedly pleased with and drawn into An Unexpected Journey (on home video), I thought Desolation of Smaug would be a fine holiday spellbinder and so it was. Of course, we pick up the story in the middle (after a somewhat disorienting prologue) and we know we will leave it before the end (being the middle part of the trilogy), so this must be borne in mind. That said, with less clear reminders of reading time long past, the film plays as a spectacle, full of orc-killing action, distant NZ mountainscapes, more dizzying 3D fighting, wise old Ian McKellen, a faint echoing of world wars, the darkest evil somehow forged in a ring (that is trotted out somewhat less frequently), and a talking dragon in the form of Benedict Cumberbatch (or is it BC in the form of a dragon?). A roller coaster ride, no doubt, with enchanting visuals (a true alternate reality unfolding before you) and one peak after another. Those who say this second chapter is better than the first may be adrenalin junkies … but how can they (we) go cold turkey for another 12 months?

Police Story (1985)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Police Story (1985) – J. Chan

In America in the early 90s, Jackie Chan was an underground cult figure.  His 1970s movies were available in badly dubbed, incomprehensibly edited versions that nevertheless retained some charm and great kung fu skills (especially Snake in the Eagle’s Shadow or Drunken Master).  But Jackie was changing, directing his own movies and continuing to do his own stunts even as they became more dangerous and spectacular.  In the 80s, with Project A (a period pirate movie) and this film, a modern crime thriller, Jackie reached a new level integrating his comedy and action into blockbusters.  And he never looked back.  Of course, Police Story is far from slick and the comedy is pretty low-rent.  But the editing is pretty great and shows an understanding of the pacing needed for action.  The set-piece stunts include cars driving through a shanty town and Jackie sliding down a pole strewn with lights through a three-story shopping mall.  However, the small scale action and Jackie’s little touches (which display incredible acrobat skill) make the movie.  Here, he is a cop protecting a secret witness before the trial of a gang boss; he gets framed, kicked off the force, and then single-handedly gets the bad guys. As if, the plot mattered!

A Christmas Carol (1951)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

A Christmas Carol (1951) – B. D. Hurst

Alastair Sim is Ebenezer Scrooge in this noirish but largely faithful retelling of Dickens’ novella.  I granted an extra ½ star to this for the nostalgic pleasure it provides – this is my Dad’s favourite Christmas film.  But it moved so quickly and contained so many evocative scenes of the 1840s that I soon moved beyond just connecting with my own childhood to enjoying the movie on its own terms. Sim’s performance verges on caricature at times but he is still very moving as the bitter man who believes all humanity is selfish – until he is visited by the Spirits of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet-To-Come.  Things become dark enough that the final scenes of renewal may bring a tear to your eye.