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[steege-jpt3391]

Hey Duncan! I loved your comments on how Miyazaki critiques the idea of consumerism. It's something I never really thought of so I appreciate you bringing that area of analysis to light. There are so many small details that I never noticed until watching this film again. Great post!

Spirited Away

When I entered into this class this was the film I was most excited about. I have already seen Spirited Away and I saw it during the pandemic and I loved it. Not my favorite Studio Ghibli film but still great nonetheless, it is very rare when I actually think one of their films is just okay. Especially not this one though being that it won the best animated feature oscar. The animation quality in this film is one of the best of all time because not only does it actually have something to say about consumerism but also it still shows the quality a film can have when you still draw the films we create. Nowadays we have been so accustomed to 3D animation which, don't get me wrong, is still good when done right but you can never go wrong with some good ol drawings. Going onto the side of consumerism, when I first watched the film I didn’t think much of it but now it is blatantly obvious how it is about this. With characters like that of No Face and the parents turning into pigs is just very obvious. These parents turn into pigs after consuming so much food at the shop and becoming almost grotesque and nowhere as similar looking to their daughter. The same goes for No Face where he seems to be this spirit that at first isn’t welcomed by really anyone but at the same time seems kind of normal and doesn’t cause any harm to our main character. But once they get to that scene of the spirit eating tons and tons of food makes them become once again this grotesque monster that tries to destroy everything around them. It just seems to play in of itself of greed and consumerism, with this constant image of turning into these grotesque monsters it’s obvious what the overall message for the film could be. That at a certain point is okay but when greed comes into play that’s when people start to get hurt and start hurting the ones around you. Lastly, the one thing I did want to mention about this film is just the genuine amount of inspiration this film holds in not animation but cinema in general. Not just from the character design of every single character but how the story itself doesn’t necessarily need to make sense. It's like what a lot of people say about these films and that is once again the beauty of it. They’re like dreams that a child would have where these characters all exist in the same world and that's just kind of unique where we don’t have to make sense of everything. We’re in a mystical world, let's just live in it. 

Grade: A+

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Blog Post #23: Spirited Away by Hayao Miyazaki

What a great film to end off this semester! Studio Ghibli always holds a special place in my heart because the first anime I ever watched was My Neighbor Totoro, so it’s great that in this class we got to appreciate some of Miyazaki’s other fantastic works that still resonate through the film industry until this day. I feel that Spirited Away is one of his greatest works just due to the story it tells, the characters involved in the story, and how Miyazaki as a director executes his vision for what he wanted the film to be. To be honest, the first time I watched this movie was on a plane after I had already watched two other 2+ hour films, so I think it can be argued that I did not necessarily have the best first viewing experience. But, after watching it the second time, I’m really glad that I had the opportunity to rewatch the film and digest it from a new perspective, using the lens of a film critic. As for a summary, Spirited Away follows a young girl named Chihiro who becomes trapped in a mysterious world she happens to stumble upon with her parents one day. However, after her parents are transformed into pigs by eating food meant for spirits, Chihiro must navigate this strange realm alone and work at a bathhouse for spirits to find a way to save them and return to the human world. Along the way, she encounters various challenges, makes friends, and discovers her own inner strength and courage, embodying how this film explores themes of identity, growing up, and the importance of kindness and empathy.

(sidenote: this character the goat ^)

I love how this film explores the themes of identity because it’s remarkable to see the growth and development Chihiro experiences. She undergoes quite a profound transformation throughout the film as initially, she is portrayed as a timid and somewhat selfish young girl who is reluctant to embrace change. However, as she navigates the spirit world and faces various challenges, she begins to discover her own inner strength, resilience, and courage. Her experiences force her to confront her fears and insecurities, ultimately leading to a deeper understanding of herself and her capabilities. These character arcs are really what engage me in films because I love when directors pick out a specific main character and flesh out their journey and identity throughout the whole movie, so I admire Miyazaki’s direction in that sense (as he tends to do this with quite a lot of his films). Furthermore, I loved how not only did Miyazaki show how Chihiro’s identity changed, but also how he explores the dangers of losing one's identity and succumbing to conformity. Many characters in the spirit world have lost their names or identities, becoming consumed by their desires or trapped in their own selfishness. Chihiro's journey serves as a counterpoint to this, emphasizing the importance of retaining one's sense of self and individuality even in the face of adversity.

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Blog Post #22: Sukiyaki Western Django by Takashi Miike

Well, that was certainly one of the movies of all time. After scrolling all the way down on the semester syllabus and investigating more into what this film was all about, I was really interested to see what this one had in store for all of us. While it did not disappoint in terms of it being nothing I expected, this film was really goofy and I did not like it. But, I will get more into that in a bit because the summary is more important right now. Takashi Miike’s Sukiyaki Western Django follows two rival gangs, the Heike and Genji clans, who fight for control of a town named "Yuta" where a mysterious treasure is said to be hidden. A lone gunman, known as "The Gunman," (woah what a crazy unique name) arrives in the town and becomes entangled in the conflict. The film blends elements of traditional westerns with Japanese culture, featuring a mix of samurai swords, gunslinging, and eccentric characters. It's a visually striking and action-packed film that pays tribute to both the western and samurai genres while adding Miike's unique flair for violence and dark humor. I thought it was really interesting and creative to almost combine Japanese culture with Western culture because it’s not something I’ve really ever seen done before, so I guess it was a cool movie to see how directors explores the tastes of worldwide audiences and how they combine to make a product for all audiences.

One thing that I thought was really interesting is how this film feels very heavily rooted in samurai films that Kurosawa made back in the 1900s. Each character having their own title felt very reminiscent of films like Yojimbo and Seven Samurai as they label the characters with their own roles. However, it also embodies many the same labeling as other modern Westerns. For example, while it isn’t a Western, Tarantino’s Reservoir Dogs became a pioneer for this style of movie in Western cinema (and I thought it was even funnier that Tarantino himself even starred in the movie, what is he doing there). I liked the style that Miike embodied in this form of storytelling because it was interesting to see how each character played their role from a Japanese perspective versus an American one. These Western-esque labels are not present in Japanese film, so it was interesting to see Miike’s interpretation of it. 

Sukiyaki Western Django also draws inspiration from The Tale of the Heike, a classic Japanese epic recounting the rise and fall of the Taira clan during the late 12th century. Both narratives involve a central conflict between rival clans or factions, which was very cool to see adapted into modern media. Also, the film is known for its blending of Japanese and Western cultural elements, much like the fusion of genres seen in the film. Similarly, "The Tale of the Heike" incorporates elements of both Japanese and Chinese culture, reflecting the historical and cultural exchanges of the time. I thought it was interesting how it took a new, modern genre and mixed in some ancient elements in there too.

[steege-jpt3391]

Great post, Alex! I also wrote about the discrimination that the elderly population received in Japan in this film. I thought it was very interesting how some directors depict unrepresented stories as I feel that me personally, I find myself to like those films a little bit more.

Sweet Bean

With this being the first film made in the past decade that we watch in this class, I was excited to get some insight into the present film industry in Japan and modern culture. This film seemed to perform well in film festivals, and I can understand why. It’s a small-scale, simple, heartwarming story about day-to-day work in Japan making food. Some of the shots of the food preparation were super pleasing to look at for me, spending a while to go into great detail about the process.

Tokue, an elderly woman with a lot of cooking experience, join Sentaro in his food stand. A big part of the movie is a kind of redemption arc for Tokue. Sentaro originally doesn’t want to hire her, but she proves that she is needed when she provides a sample of home-made an for him (as opposed to the grocery-bought an he usually used). This is what convinces Sentaro to hire her, and during her time working with him she continuously pushes through struggle.

Tokue, having experienced illness for much of her life, talks a lot about freedom. This reoccurring theme in the film comments on the discrimination and limitations placed on people with disabilities in Japanese society, and through her redemption it says that these people deserve a shot at pursuing their goals like anyone else. I think that this one specific example of how people with leprosy have been isolated speaks on a larger message on social discrimination.

I enjoyed this film, but it was a slow burner for sure. A lot of things happened in the film, but there were also a lot of dragged on moments that were visually pleasing, but not that engaging for me. However, the messages and heartwarming moments were enough to make this a worthwhile watch.

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Blog Post #21: Sweet Bean by Naomi Kawase

Finally, we enter the 2010s era of Japanese film. I was excited to see that we were getting into more modern films later on because while the movies we watched previously are very influential, it’s important to analyze the impact modern films have on the future generation of film directors. While the film originally presented itself as being lighthearted and wholesome, many scenes made me feel quite sad. "Sweet Bean,” directed by Naomi Kawase, delicately intertwines themes of human connection, acceptance, and the appreciation of life's simple joys. Set in contemporary Japan, it follows the story of Sentaro, a dorayaki maker, who forms an unlikely friendship with Tokue, an elderly woman with a disfiguring condition caused by leprosy. This story was one that felt very unique to me as we hadn’t really watched many films with this kind of dynamic. We saw bonds between Samurai, complex family stories, and even strangers coming together to make ramen, but this dynamic between a shop owner and an elderly woman was one that I hadn’t really witnessed before. I loved the creativity of the plot and the execution of the film which was why all in all, I thought it was a great watch. 

One thing I thought made the film stand out was it’s commentary on societal stigma and prejudice as it serves as a very prominent theme in the film. It sheds light on the discrimination faced by individuals with leprosy in Japan, as well as broader societal attitudes towards those who are perceived as different or marginalized. Like I said in the paragraph before, Kawase’s unique plot really found itself sticking out to me making the film a very enjoyable watch. As the issue regarding the large population of elderly people in Japan, appears (at least to me) to be quite controversial, I thought it was interesting that this film critiqued a system that isn’t really discussed that often. Kawase portrays the insidious nature of prejudice through subtle yet powerful moments, such as when customers at the dorayaki stand recoil in horror at the sight of Tokue's hands, or when Sentaro's landlord expresses concern over the potential impact of Tokue's presence on his business. These instances underscore the pervasive fear and misunderstanding that underlie societal attitudes towards difference and disability. I think this specific scene especially showed how this is a powerful exploration of societal stigma and prejudice, highlighting the profound impact of discrimination on both individual lives and broader social dynamics. Through its compelling narrative and nuanced characterizations, the film challenges viewers to confront their own biases and embrace a more inclusive and empathetic understanding of the human experience. I’m really glad I gave it a watch and I’m really looking forward to the last few films to come!

[steege-jpt3391]

Great post, Neil! I really liked how you talked about Kurosawa's cinematography in the film. His style is very eery and he carefully set ups camera angles in a way to build implicit meaning, which I absolutely loved.

回路！

In Kiyoshi Kurosawa's 2001 horror film "Pulse" (known in Japanese as 回路かいろ "Kairo"), the internet isn't just a place to connect – it's a yawning abyss of loneliness, threatening to swallow any user whole. The story unfolds in Tokyo, the most populous and densely-packed city on the face of the Earth, yet where our characters feel utterly alone. This isolation fuels a supernatural horror unlike any other, where ghosts aren't confined to graveyards, but slither through the very cables promising connection.

Pulse follows several characters, their paths converging as a strange phenomenon grips the city. Many residents begin inexplicably taking their own lives, and those left behind are plagued by disturbing visions – pale, faceless figures appearing on computer screens. This imagery isn't just jump scares; it's a slow, creeping dread. The faces represent a surge of loneliness, a hollowness that spills out of the internet and into the real world.

Michi, a young woman working at a computer help desk, witnesses this firsthand. People call in, their voices laced with terror, describing the spectral encounters. The internet, supposed to bridge distances, has begun its transformation into the existential garbage disposal we know today. Meanwhile, Ryosuke, a hacker, stumbles upon a disturbing website promising a connection so complete, it erases your very existence. This website embodies the film's central fear: the internet as a Faustian bargain: it can connect you to anyone in the world instantaneously but at the cost of your sense of self and reality.

Kurosawa's cinematography is absolutely on point for the whole film. We see characters dwarfed by empty apartments, their faces illuminated by the cold glow of computer screens. The sterile hum of technology underscores the lack of human connection. The ghosts themselves are unsettling – distorted figures with vacant eyes, mirroring the emptiness they represent. The hollowness of their eyes showing clearly the yawning gap between reality and internet simulation they experienced before dying.

The film doesn't shy away from the dark side of human connection in the digital age. We see people using the internet for fleeting moments of intimacy in online chatrooms, only to be left feeling more isolated afterward. The characters yearn for connection, yet their attempts through technology only push them further away. Like a digital Chinese finger trap: the harder you try to force it, the worse you're stuck.

Pulse isn't a film that relies on gore or jump scares. It's a slow burn, a meditation on the anxieties of a hyper-connected world. It forces us to confront the chilling possibility that the very tool designed to bring us together might be driving us apart (honestly "might" isn't even necessary). Even today, the film feels eerily relevant. Social media can be a breeding ground for loneliness, with carefully curated online personas masking the emptiness underneath. A neologism for this phenomenon is "parasocial". Pulse serves as a stark reminder of the importance of face-to-face human connection in a world entirely dominated by screens. It's a film that will stay with me like Ghost in the Shell or Jin-Roh: The Wolf Brigade have.

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Blog Post #20 - Pulse by Kiyoshi Kurosawa

I was super excited to watch this film because Kiyoshi Kurosawa was a director that I thoroughly enjoyed, as I watched arguably his most popular and best-directed film “Cure.” After a first watch, I absolutely loved it but I had to watch the movie a second time because I didn’t feel that I had truly grasped the full meaning of the film. But, on a second watch, I found myself appreciating Kurosawa’s directing style even more, which made me even more excited to watch “Pulse.” Kurosawa’s style in this film made me appreciate the way he directs even more, because I love his art-focused style and the nuance he adds throughout his films. It’s structured as a Japanese horror film that follows the story of several characters who become entangled in a mysterious website that seemingly connects the living with the dead. As they investigate further, they uncover a sinister force that threatens to consume the world. The film explores themes of loneliness, isolation, and the pervasiveness of technology in modern society, delivering a chilling and atmospheric experience that lingers long after the credits roll. The loose style of giving the viewer almost nothing to work with in terms of what the film was about intrigued me greatly, and I feel that it helped me appreciate the film even more. I love being able to gather my own interpretation of a movie I enjoyed how Kurosawa let the viewers decide on the interpretation of the film.

In terms of loneliness and isolation, this is where the film really shines. Set against the backdrop of a rapidly modernizing Tokyo, the characters grapple with profound feelings of disconnectedness despite being surrounded by bustling urban life. The film captures a pervasive sense of alienation exacerbated by advancing technology, where individuals are paradoxically more connected yet increasingly isolated. It especially comes through with the eerie website featured in the film serves as a metaphor for this digital disconnect, drawing people further into isolation as they explore its ominous depths. As the characters delve deeper into the mysteries of the website, they confront their own profound sense of existential loneliness, finding themselves adrift in a world where the boundaries between the living and the dead blur. Kurosawa uses haunting imagery and slow-burning tension to underscore the emotional isolation experienced by the characters, emphasizing their existential dread and futile attempts to escape their solitude. Ultimately, "Pulse" serves as a chilling meditation on the human condition in the digital age, where despite our interconnectedness, we remain profoundly isolated and alone. All in all, I thought it was a very interesting way to depict those themes in a horror film because usually when I watch horror films, it’s just for the point to get scared. However, Kurosawa gives an added layer to the film that lies deeper than the horror.

[steege-jpt3391]

Great post Andrew! I loved when you talked about the challenges of homogeneity in Japan. I thought it was really interesting how Iwai talks about multiple nationalities in this film when Japan is very much a nation-state.

Swallowtail Butterfly (1996)

I really don't know. I might have some ideas. But whether or not any of them are up to scrutiny is a whole other matter. Shunji Iwai's Swallowtail Butterfly is a coming of age story, sometimes it's a Hong Kong gangster movie, and there are other times where I frankly don't know what it was exactly that I watched. Something I can say for certain is that if I had to pin any particular theme that was consistent throughout Swallowtail Butterfly it was fluidity.

Swallowtail Butterfly throughout most of its narrative follows Ageha, a young girl residing in a non-descript immigrant shanty town occupied prominently by Chinese settlers at the edge of non-descript urban Japan. This general non-descript quality is a common element in Swallowtail Butterfly. After being orphaned Ageha is left in the care of Glico, a Chinese prostitute as she and their many friends find ways to survive in Yentown.

Yentown roughly encompasses the boundaries of urban Japan and is a space where immigrants from all over the world have come to stake their claim, collect enough yen, and to return home. Aside from the non-descriptness of place Swallowtail Butterfly also does quite a bit to play with the non-descriptness of race and identity.

After a series of absurd adventures that involves desecrating a grave in a potter's field, searching the contents of a human stomach, and using a Frank Sinatra cassette to run a counterfeiting scam Ageha, Glico, and their friends open the YenTown Club. It's during this time that Glico gains the attention of record company executives for her singing talent.

During an interview with a fairly prominent record label the executives present are discussing the marketability of Glico as Chinese and decide that it would be too difficult and instead ask her if she would become Japanese. This is where the fluidity of Swallowtail Butterfly and what it has to say about race and especially about being Japanese is the most identifiable. Glico's popularity is predicated on her ability to present herself as Japanese. Not only is being Japanese something which can be marketed and commodified but also something which is not so strictly defined by essentialized ideas of homogeneity.

There are certainly other times in the film where these grander ideals surrounding homogeneity are challenged such as with the band consisting of Japanese born individuals of non-Japanese descent who's cultural upbringing and only language seems to be almost exclusively. Are these individuals not Japanese?

This really was not a film for me. I didn't necessarily find it bad. The counterfeiting scheme in general was one of my favorite plot points of Swallowtail Butterfly, unfortunately from there things branched off into places that just weren't very interesting to me. One of my favorite aspects of the film though was the setting of "Yentown", and it's "city at the edge of the world" quality and the ways in which each character had seemingly drifted into there and the stories they brought with them and their struggles. It, and especially the underworld crime portion, reminded me quite a bit of Roanapur, a fictional South East Asian island that acts as setting for the manga Black Lagoon.

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Blog Post #18: Swallowtail Butterfly by Shunji Iwai

This film was one that definitely piqued my interest because Shunji Iwai was a director on my list that I had been interested in for a very long time. It was actually around the start of this semester that I watched my first film by film which is called All About Lily Chou Chou, which is a beautiful coming-of-age story with an amazing soundtrack. I enjoyed it immensely which made me more excited for Swallowtail Butterfly, and it was nice to watch another film of his and see the overlap in his directing style. The movie follows the story of Ageha, an orphan who lives day-to-day with her friends who engage in petty theft and prostitution. She doesn’t actually do it herself as she’s protected by Glico. The film is set in Tokyo, but the setting takes a very creative direction as Iwai creates a distant world where Yen is the strongest currency, which attracts a large influx of immigrants to Japan. The film follows a very creative direction in almost what feels like some sort of post-apocalyptic world. While I found it to be a little bit confusing at times, I do appreciate the innovative approach. 

Because of the interesting dynamic of immigrant identity that Iwai creates in the film, Ageha becomes a very complex character as she not only deals with her own identity but mixes with all of her friends who come from different places. Therefore, this movie becomes very heavily rooted in the idea of cultural identity. As a member of a group of multicultural girls living in a dystopian Tokyo, she is surrounded by individuals from various backgrounds. This diverse environment prompts Ageha to question her own cultural identity and where she fits into the complex tapestry of society. However, I felt that the major point emphasizing her difficulty in grappling with her cultural identity lies within her inability to grapple with her own identity. She is left alone to rot by society and thus does not really understand herself all that much. She grapples with questions of individuality and self-discovery, trying to understand who she truly is amidst the chaos and uncertainty of her environment. Her interactions with other characters, particularly Glico and the other girls, play a significant role in shaping her sense of self and her understanding of her place in the world. I thought it was a very interesting way to frame the movie because in Ageha interacting with girls of different backgrounds, she was able to understand herself a little bit more. It goes to show how within a safe and protected community, people can find themselves and who they are through others. I thought that part of the film to be quite nice, and overall enjoyed the watch.

[steege-jpt3391]

I really liked your insight into the ending of the film. I, too, wasn't 100% sure about if Nishi and his wife really died, but I liked what you said about how you emphasized how much he loved his wife. I really thought that was a strong, defining character trait of his.

3/25/24 "Hanabi" JPT 3391

I LOVED Hanabi, even though it was a hard watch (so much blood)!

Although Nishi and Horibe had such terrible fates, they both found their own methods of perseverance. In fact, aside from their perseverance of the current, both men also individually dealt with their future selves here too. I.e. learning to be complacent with the situation you are in and find your own happiness. Both men are found in wildly different situations- one is healthy, but with a wife who is sick and dying; The other has a perfectly healthy wife! Except... she left him and he is wheelchair bound. One has lost all that made their life purposeful, while the other will lose it soon.

It seems that the main character himself has trouble processing his life as it is. Although his wife is sick and he is no longer a cop, he continuously hangs onto his glory days, going as far as to purchase a used cop car and repurpose it, a symbol of his delusion (Notice how the car is what gets the transformation, and not him?). Horibe, however, takes up painting after Nishi mails him some art supplies after a suicide attempt. While it is a very kind gesture, the abstract art he takes on symbolizes his new beginning, as he uses flowers in bloom to cover the faces of all living beings. With these paintings, Horibe is trying to tell a story of life: flowers sprout, bloom, grow, and wither. Here he is resprouting himself with a newfound hobby and purpose in life.

Joe Hisaishi's music tells a beautiful story amidst each scene- it heavily influenced how much I wanted to cry almost every time. I was also caught off-guard by the placement of the music, because nearly every scene did not exactly line up with what I heard. Namely, one of my favorite scenes in the movie is the ending scene, where Nishi rips the kite. An execution was about to take place. The music was hauntingly beautiful and melancholic, which I felt showed the emotional impact of one's life coming to an end, but the humorous moment before the deaths was particularly jarring. It's kind of like when you cry but then somebody makes you laugh shortly after?

I am not actually 100% sure if Nishi and his wife were killed, or if it was the hitmen who died. Yes, Nishi did rob a bank, his life has nowhere left to go, and his wife was nearly dead, but Nishi does have a track record of pulling a fast one. Perhaps, since the deaths were off screen, Nishi killed them? But then, he has nowhere to go after that.... That's why I personally believed he let him and his wife die here. You could see how much he loved his wife, and how he really had nothing after her.

So back to the dichotomy of Nishi and Horibe. Horibe learns to move on from the incident, somewhat, but Nishi... never really does. He stays in his own ways, violent, angry, and deceitful. His wife is dying, and he quietly decides to end his life sometime after hers, choosing to end his life rather than prolong it like Horibe does. For a while, during the beginning of the movie, I was expected Nishi to be blind due to the glasses he wears. Stevie wonder is one of the most famous blind musicians of his time, pictured below. Stereotypically, blind people are depicted in media wearing shades that fully obfuscate their eyes. I think that this is purposeful, as Nishi never sees the truth, i.e., he doesn't think that he can bloom after his wife's death. He is blind to the possibility of a happy life after.

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Blog Post #17: Hana-bi by Takeshi Kitano

When I saw that we were going to be watching this film this semester, I got really excited because this was a movie I had on my watchlist for about a year now. Its new and refreshing style of directing caught my eye, and let’s just say that it didn’t disappoint. I found it to be a solid watch from start to finish, and I found myself being able to analyze it quite well and look more into the mental state of the characters. The film itself follows Nishi, a police officer who quits his job to care for his terminally ill wife. Nishi is also dealing with the aftermath of a botched police operation that left his partner paralyzed and another colleague dead. The film explores themes of love, loss, redemption, and the consequences of violence. Throughout the film, there were juxtapositions that caught me off guard quite a bit: Nishi would carry on with his daily life and suddenly, there’s an outburst in violence. I thought his quiet demeanor to be very captivating, because the less he talked, the more I found out that we didn’t know too much about Nishi. It made him appear very mysterious and prompted me to want to know more about him and try to dig more into his character. 

In this blog post (partly because of what I wrote above), I wanted to talk more about Nishi and his character and what he represents because I found that to be the most interesting part of the film. Being a deeply complex character, it was interesting to see how his decisions connected back to himself and who he was as a person. Firstly, his decision to quit the police force to care for his terminally ill wife, Miyuki, demonstrates his devotion and sense of responsibility. There were bigger things in his life than his job, so he chose to abandon that part of himself and pursue something more. However, I think a lot of these decisions show how Nishi grapples with inner conflict stemming from past traumas, particularly the guilt he carries over the botched police operation that resulted in the injury of his partner and the death of a colleague. This guilt haunts him and drives much of his actions throughout the film and provides a reason for all the irrational instances of violence that we become so familiar with. But, what I found to be surprising is through analyzing his actions, you can see how Nishi maintains a very strong sense of duty and sacrifice. He goes to great lengths to fulfill his obligations, whether it's taking care of his wife or seeking revenge for his fallen comrades. While I could analyze his psyche and try to understand him more, Nishi still feels distant and mysterious; he’s one of those characters where you think you know a lot about him, but in reality, you know nothing at all. Great movie!

[steege-jpt3391]

I really loved your blog post and how you summarized the themes of the film, specifically, you're description of the use of violence. I found it to be really interesting how violence is used as a metaphorical way to give more information about Sugihara's personality.

Go (2001)

I'd only ever heard sparingly about the Zainichi Korean population at times, mostly in passing. I knew a bit about the North Korean transplant population throughout certain areas of Japan. It's also not uncommon for me to see discussions surrounding xenophobia in Japan and I know a bit about the legacy of empire. Isao Yukisada's GO explores each of these topics intimately. What really invested me in this film though was the bare knuckle smack downs and the explorations of self and masculinity.

One of the most compelling aspects of this film was its main character. Sugihara is the child of Chosen-Jin (North Korean) parents, wherever he goes and and whoever he interacts with attempts to define him on whatever terms are convenient to him: criminal, traitor, impure. It's Sugihara's constant personal revolution to defy definition that characterizes his struggle. When his name gains notoriety and delinquents from nearby schools come to challenge him he swiftly defeats each in succession but ultimately remains disinterested in any acclaim attributed to violence and sees it purely as self-defense. When he choses to transfer from a North Korean transplant school to a Japanese school its not some larger formation in what others might contend as some betrayal or transformation of his ethnic identity but simply what he sees as an opportunity to explore a larger world.

In a society that seems at times obsessed with typifying and categorizing identity Sugihara's commitment to fluidity is an act of major rebellion. This isn't to say that's all he is. Sugihara is still a teenage boy and the film frequently reminds us of that. He spends time embarrassing his friend in front of a waitress. He lies to a cute girl because he doesn't want to admit that he was listening to Rakugo so he tells her it was rap.

One of the integral aspects of GO is the constant barrage of punches and generally the absurd amount of ass kicking. Sugihara's relationship with violence however is as multifaceted as he is. Japanese stories of male adolescence and alienation embroiled in violence at some point feels as if they take a path where the characters sets down a path towards self-destruction from where they can never return, in fact I feel this is also a trend in many American films surrounding the experience of immigrant men. I waited with baited breath throughout the entire film waiting for Sugihara to set down that road. He never did.

Even when his dearest compatriot and fellow rebel of fluidity Song Il was murdered by a Japanese individual he refused to participate in the revenge drawn across such identarian lines which they both so profusely despised. When he exposes himself in front of the girl he loves at a place of extreme fragility after the death of his nearest friend and laying out his trust in the name of their intimacy is ultimately rejected he simply walks away. He never is what others have already decided he was.

The absurd brawls that take place between Sugihara and his father in their own way aren't even necessarily about violence. Boxing is one of the things that are integral to Sugihara's relationship with his father and for them seems to be the most effective means of communication. Sugihara's paternal punch outs are less about who gets the most hits in and are more the conflict between a generation in which identity and regional and ethnic boundaries were all consuming and another in which individual self was prized above all things. After each encounter Sugihara's feelings seem to reach his father more and more and with time he seems just a touch more receptive to them.

I loved GO. Throughout the early 2000s Japan seemed to be revisiting the delinquent genre in manga, anime, and film. GO in a lot of ways especially in its fight scene reminded me Clover, one of my favorite delinquent manga from this period of time. I will likely be watching this many more times.

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Blog Post #16: GO by Yukisada Isao

Super happy to be watching this film because we are finally in the 2000s, the decade of Japan that sparked my interest in the country and culture. This was the decade of Japanese media I originally grew up on and is most likely the reason why I chose to study Japanese and potentially envision myself living there one day in the future. Additionally, I watched Ikebukuro West Gate Park (recommended to me by Shuuji, shoutout him) which not only was set in the same period, but the actor who played Sugihara in GO was also one of the main characters in that J-Drama. And, it was safe to say that the film did not disappoint. GO follows the story of Sugihara, a zainichi-korean struggling to find his way in the world. Sugihara is taught how to become a fighter to protect himself from others, but the real battle lies within Sugihara’s battle against the outside world that constantly represses him and his multinational identity. The final decision of Sugihara’s choice of who to become and where to belong remains the most prominent aspect of the film for me, as this coming-of-age story highlights the trials and tribulations ethnic minorities experience when being forced to assimilate into a new culture, specifically lying in Sugihara’s relationship with Sakurai. It was a captivating watch from start to finish and I’m glad I got to reminisce a bit in my childhood. 

I thought the final say of this film was very powerful as, being a coming-of-age story, it was beautiful to analyze Sugihara’s character and see the shift in his personality. For me, the true meaning of this film lies in staying true to your own identity, even in an environment that discriminates you. When Sugihara revealed his real name to Sakurai in the film, I felt that almost symbolized his choice to accept his Korean identity versus him forgetting it and simply assimilating into Japanese culture. I also thought this went hand-in-hand with Yukisada’s choice to include a quote from Romeo and Juliet at the beginning of the film because it tells a story of unrequited love where one person has to hide their true identity in fear of rejection. I loved how Yukisada drew parallels between those two stories and showed how, through Sugihara revealing his real name, he is accepting of his own identity and has decided to step into his shows as a Korean.

One thing I thought was really interesting about this film was the similarities it shared with Shimazaki Toson’s “The Broken Commandment,” which tells the story of a Ushimatsu, a burakumin who hides their identity from the rest of the world due to the minority group’s severe discrimination in Japan. However, because of his admiration for Rentarou Inoko, a burakumin activist who is proud of his identity, Ushimatsu reveals his identity to his students. Ushimatsu and Sugihara’s shared similarities reflect the message of choosing yourself over others, which I thought to be very beautiful.

[steege-jpt3391]

I agree with your point of analysis on how Itami Juzo analyzed food in this film. I liked how you dug deeper into how food revolves around every aspect of life because food is universal and connects people all around the world.

alright so i'm workin with exhaustion levels u've never seen b4 but i think i get this movie.

Firstly, the humor is pretty good throughout most of this film. I'm obsessed with the meta fourth wall breaking opening because that stuff is always done well. The goofy over-dramatized western movie aspects are hilarious and great, because they're so easy to mimic. Even the slapstick-esque (or like Chaplin style idk I'm TIRED OK) scene when they go visit Sensei and that one guy takes the kid into the kitchen to make omurice was pretty good even though I typically hate that style. This movie is so quirky weird and I vibe with that. Especially the little sound effects when they eat the noodles. The lil 'fwip' noises. It adds whimsy and who doesn't love whimsy.

Analysis wise, I think this movie's point is to show all the aspects of food and food culture? You have those that use it for greed, those that use it for pleasure (literally with the weird as hell sex scenes but like you go girl, ig) and so on. It's a very funny movie in many aspects but I don't think that takes away from the whole point that this movie celebrates food--specifically ramen. I like, too, that even the spaghetti scene we get where the etiquette teacher is trying to teach them all to eat like westerners/soundlessly, they go back to slurping the noodles and enjoying it how they would their food normally. It makes a point to show several times various people adding food restrictions to others (the elderly man and kid basically back to back) while immediately showing people sort of tempting them past those restrictions because food should be enjoyed however and whenever you want. (We're ignoring that the old man ate too fast and started choking).

Food is an art and that is shown in many, many different ways throughout. It should be explored, celebrated, and enjoyed in whatever way is personal to you. Good food unites people and allows for growth and connection. Food can also divide people because we all have our own tastes. It's oddly optimistic and sweet.

Could've done without the egg yolk orgasm and the turtle murder, though.

We don't kink shame, we kink why.

[steege-jpt3391]

Blog Post #15: Tampopo by Itami Juzo

I’m really upset that we had to watch this film because of the sheer torture it was to watch people eat ramen, because at the end of this film, I was left craving ramen. Sadly, Gainesville isn’t really known for its ramen so now I am writing this post sad and hungry. I am also upset for other reasons which I will dive into later in this post but to continue our 80s film, I watched Tampopo by Itami Juzo. The story follows the main character Tampopo (no way just like the title of the movie), a widow who runs a measly ramen shop that gets barely any customers. While minimal amounts of people visited her shop, two of those who did were Goro and Gun, partners-in-crime truck drivers who stopped their drive one day for some food. The two stop at Tampopo’s ramen shop and are quite disappointed in the standards of ramen as part of the bleak and cramped shop, Goro immediately notices how the water used to make the ramen is not even boiling. Goro then gets into it with a drunkard who’s an alleged local of Tampopo’s shop, gets his ass kicked, then decides he wants to help Tampopo and help her become the best ramen chef in all of Japan. This kickstarts a whole training arc of Tampopo’s journey to learn how to properly cook ramen and be the best chef she can be. And if that’s not exciting enough, viewers also get to enjoy some light porn involving numerous food kinks AND a three-minute-long shot of a baby sucking a woman’s breast! I think you know where this review is going.

Personally, I really did not like this movie. If I compare it to the films I loved that we watched for this class, it does not even come close. Comparing this and Morita’s “The Family Game,” I cannot understand how Tampopo gets more fame than that movie since I think it’s miles better. I’ll try to keep it concise as there were many things I disliked about this film, but two of the main things that stuck out to me were the side plot with the gangster and just the overall story. The story of Tampopo was, to put it simply, boring. I did not find myself resonating with any of the characters, the plot was confusing at times, and the story just did not make me want to keep watching. I thought it was a bad decision to depict Tampopo as this desperate widow who cannot do anything in her life because to me, it was really setting women back several years. The film’s plot only spurs from these two men with a savior complex to come in and help this woman sheerly out of pity. Because of how ingenuine and immature the characters' motives were, I did not find myself interested in any of them. To add on, I still have no idea why one moment I’m watching a truck driver in a cowboy hat yell at a helpless widow that the broth is boiling, I close my eyes for five seconds, and then I’m witnessing two people make out with a raw egg in their mouthes and have this gangster straight-up season a woman’s booby with salt and lemon and then proceed to suck it like it was a red, white, and blue popsicle you get from an ice cream truck. Then they killed a live turtle. And here I am thinking I’m supposed to be watching a movie about ramen…

I did think that the film had some interesting takeaways on the power of food and how it brings people together. Through helping Tampopo open up her shop, many characters of the film whom we saw earlier would come together with Goro and Gun to help Tampopo out. For example, it’s revealed that Pis-Ken is the drunkard from the beginning of the movie, he sees Goro’s efforts to help Tampopo, is inspired, and decides to join in and help using his interior design skills to redecorate the shop. Unfortunately, that was not nearly enough to make the film enjoyable for me. Sorry for this angry blog post, but I’d be lying if my opinions on this movie were positive.

[steege-jpt3391]

Great post, Neil! I never really looked at this film through the lens of what it takes to succeed in an immensely competitive society, but I really liked your analysis of how Yoshimoto imposed himself on the Numata's and almost gave them a reality check. I thought Yoshimoto was a fantastic character as he did an amazing job of showing his power and being almost a device to whip the family into shape.

Family Game 1983 Morita Yoshimitsu Neil McInnis JPT3391

Throughout the entire watchtime of this film all I could think of was Whiplash, the 2011 film where J. K. Simmons mentally and physically torments a young jazz drummer. However, this film isn't so much about the relationship between master and student as Whiplash is. It's much more about the strained family dynamics of early 1980s Japan, the demands on every family member from society writ large, and the lengths that families were willing to go to get their children into prestigious universities. One facet of this film I found particularly interesting was the relationship between Shinichi and Shigeyuki.

Shinichi, the older brother, has already gotten into the prep school that his father wanted him to get into, Seibu High. Shinichi experiences a kind of post-accomplishment aimlessness; he's lost motivation to study since his motivation was to get into Seibu in the first place. He has reservations about going on to university since it doesn't seem to fit his life anymore. Shinichi is now much more interested in talking to girls and hanging out with friends for the vast majority of the movie. He's almost switched places with Shigeyuki.

Shigeyuki is struggling a lot with school, but not because he's simply not smart enough, he just has little to no drive to do so. He's much more invested in drawing and reading about rollercoasters than Japanese language class or English. It's not until his father has had enough of his slacking and gets an at-home tutor that Shigeyuki sees any improvement in his grades. This tutor quickly proves to be far more than Shigeyuki's father bargained for and ends up being physically abusive almost immediately.

The tutor, Mr. Yoshimoto, is a tall, imposing man who immediately establishes his dominance over the Numatas. He goes to a second-rate university, but carries himself as if he were a Toudai alumnus. He enforces his regime of studying onto Shigeyuki, slapping him and harassing him in public until Shigeyuki bends to his will. As we see later in the film, what Yoshimoto is actually trying to do is to teach Shigeyuki to stand up for himself and act on his own. We can see this when Yoshimoto smiles when Shigeyuki blocks his slap and slaps back. What Yoshimoto did is still assault and he should be charged as such, but it wasn't senseless assault.

Yoshimoto represents the cold reality of what it takes to make it in our hyper-competitive society. If you're not completely dedicated to the grind, not utterly focused on making it to your next goal, you'll end up like Yoshimoto himself: slapping 9th graders across the face for a couple hundred bucks. The very end of the film, where the whole family falls asleep midday to the sound of a helicopter flying overhead, is emblematic of just how exhausting the grind is. I think all of us can relate to just passing out midday when the lack of sleep from studying catches up to us.

[steege-jpt3391]

Blog Post #14: The Family Game by Morita Yoshimitsu

As much as I love Japanese black-and-white films from the 60s, I am very happy that we are finally getting into the 80s films! To be honest, I was getting a little bit tired of films with postwar narratives or ones trying to depict the difficulty of Japan’s transition from tradition to modernity, so I’m glad that we are starting to tackle new issues with different directors. I believe that “The Family Game” was a great film to kick things off. “The Family Game” follows the story of the Numata’s, a clear-cut of what a modern Japanese family should look like: an uptight salaryman racking in the money to support the family, the good-for-nothing housewife who keeps things tidy at home, and two sons who could not be more opposite. However, the dynamic greatly begins to shift after Yoshimoto, the tutor Mr. Numata hired to get Shigeyuki’s grades up, enters the household. Yoshimoto’s character was one that I still am not really able to wrap my head around because of his odd mannerisms and his severity towards Shigeyuki’s studies, but it’s evident that because of his strong sense of personality, it greatly changed the family’s dynamic. Mrs. Numata becomes more and more lethargic by the day, Shigeyuki is becoming a star student and shooting for the top high school, and Shinichi starts to slack in his studies and even announce he wants to drop out. All these events show the fragility of a traditional family dynamic and how once some external force comes into play, things fall out of place.

I thought this film was a very clever critique of the Japanese middle-class family dynamic of the 1980s and I especially loved how all of that was deconstructed through Yoshimoto entered the Numata family. His actions were far from what was normal for that time, doing everything from slapping Shigeyuki until his nose bleeds to sensually touching Mr. Numata’s hand at the dinner table. The satirical commentary on how a traditional family operates proves to be quite effective as it takes all the traditional roles of a family and flips them on its head. The older brother is supposed to be the role model but at the end of the film, it’s the other way around. The father is supposed to be the patriarchal head of the house but is a heavy drinker who can’t communicate with his sons or wife.

I thought it was very interesting to analyze what Yoshimoto’s role truly was because he is depicted in the film as a tutor. I thought this could almost represent that he is a teacher of Japan’s family dynamics and his job is to enter households and break families apart. Morita used Yoshimoto as a device to critique traditional roles in a patriarchal household and in making him a tutor, he served as an educator to the whole of Japan on how fragile these family dynamics built upon individual roles are. In a complex environment like a family, it does not succeed on everyone doing their part. The only time we really see the family come together is when they are cleaning up the mess Yoshimoto made after Shigeyuki’s celebratory dinner. They all worked together to clean up, and it was Yoshimoto who forced them into doing this because he decided to start a food fight. The satirical elements were very clever because while I was dying laughing at Yoshimoto throwing spaghetti at Mrs. Numata with no reaction, it was almost as if Yoshimoto was scolding the whole family for how disjointed they had become. Overall, it was a banger indeed and I’m looking forward to more films of this caliber in the future.