Negatibu Happi Chenso Ejji
Negative Happy Chainsaw Edge
(Takuji Kitamura, 2007)
2 Stars
I’ve always been a stickler for movies with daft names; Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Killer Klowns From Outer Space… But when it comes to really off-the-wall titles, Japan has always held the crown. Thus, when I came across the bizarrely named Negative Happy Chainsaw Edge during this week’s Nippon Challenge, I cared not for content, simple knowing that such an oddball title was one I had to watch.
I must admit, however, that I was left somewhat disappointed. Unlike, for example, Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl, Negative Happy Chainsaw Edge is not quite the foray into weirdness that its name suggests.
Admittedly, on the surface, the story is just the right level of crazy; a girl, somehow endowed with super powers, is visited on a nightly basis by a strange chainsaw wielding man from outer space. Cue some excellent martial arts sequences and more flying daggers than a certain House by the same name, all shot with a keen eye for the art. Alas, between these groovy little fight sequences is a rather listless romance story about what seems to be finding your inner self and fighting the demons therein. As a concept, it’s not bad, but in execution it’s generally pretty bland.
The two leads, who alas I cannot name as IMDB has somehow failed to house a cast list (perhaps the first time that the net’s greatest asset has let me down), are rather uninteresting, and not enough info is given as to the Chainsaw Man’s presence to keep a viewer intrigued.
That said, it’s certainly not the worst way to spend ninety minutes, with just enough of the high-flying action to keep yourself awake. Just not quite enough to warrant a better review…
Friday, 28 May 2010
Subtitle Challenge: Day 3
20-Seiki Shonen:
Honkaku Kagaku Boken Eiga
20th Century Boys: Chapter 1
(Yukihiko Tsutsumi, 2008)
3.5 Stars
Friends say it’s fine, friends say it’s good… And for the most part, it is. Larger than life sci-fi manga epic 20th Century Boys is, as the first in a trilogy a petty high energy and intriguing introduction into the world of accidental hero Kenji Endo and his unlikely comrades as they attempt to rid the world of a terror of their own creation.
In a story that executes itself like a Stephen King saga, 20th Century Boys tells the tale of a young group of children who spend their summer creating a comic book, known as “The Book of Prophecies” which foretells the end of the world at the hands of an evil company led by the mysterious “Friend”. Twenty years later, however, a spate of strange occurrences across the globe are hauntingly similar to those that Kenji and his friends had created, and the group soon find themselves mankind’s only hope against Friend’s reign of terror.
The story itself is pretty solid, though certainly at times rather convoluted, but is a great set up for what I am sure is a good couple of sequels. Judging by the high octane climax, there’s certainly more delights to come, and with this being one of Japan’s most costly cinematic ventures of all time, I’m pretty certain they will deliver.
The cast, admittedly (as you can probably guess from the title) is a bit of a sausage fest, but each of the main players has their own unique charm, with Toshiaki Karasawa leading with an innocent force as erstwhile rock star and cartoonist Kenji. Etsushi Toyokawa as the mysterious anti-hero Otcha is delightfully intriguing, and Teruyuki Kagawa provides some great comic relief as the token chubster of the group. I’m sure had Stephen King penned it, he would’ve been called Ben… I seem to recall his resident portly child was usually a Ben.
There are many questions left unanswered at the end of this first instalment. Indeed, I think every question is left unanswered, and at almost three hours long, it’s a pretty lengthy introduction to the sage. However, if the rest of the series lives up to this standard, I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end.
And quite frankly, any Japanese movie that kicks off with some Marc Bolan has already won me over.
Honkaku Kagaku Boken Eiga
20th Century Boys: Chapter 1
(Yukihiko Tsutsumi, 2008)
3.5 Stars
Friends say it’s fine, friends say it’s good… And for the most part, it is. Larger than life sci-fi manga epic 20th Century Boys is, as the first in a trilogy a petty high energy and intriguing introduction into the world of accidental hero Kenji Endo and his unlikely comrades as they attempt to rid the world of a terror of their own creation.
In a story that executes itself like a Stephen King saga, 20th Century Boys tells the tale of a young group of children who spend their summer creating a comic book, known as “The Book of Prophecies” which foretells the end of the world at the hands of an evil company led by the mysterious “Friend”. Twenty years later, however, a spate of strange occurrences across the globe are hauntingly similar to those that Kenji and his friends had created, and the group soon find themselves mankind’s only hope against Friend’s reign of terror.
The story itself is pretty solid, though certainly at times rather convoluted, but is a great set up for what I am sure is a good couple of sequels. Judging by the high octane climax, there’s certainly more delights to come, and with this being one of Japan’s most costly cinematic ventures of all time, I’m pretty certain they will deliver.
The cast, admittedly (as you can probably guess from the title) is a bit of a sausage fest, but each of the main players has their own unique charm, with Toshiaki Karasawa leading with an innocent force as erstwhile rock star and cartoonist Kenji. Etsushi Toyokawa as the mysterious anti-hero Otcha is delightfully intriguing, and Teruyuki Kagawa provides some great comic relief as the token chubster of the group. I’m sure had Stephen King penned it, he would’ve been called Ben… I seem to recall his resident portly child was usually a Ben.
There are many questions left unanswered at the end of this first instalment. Indeed, I think every question is left unanswered, and at almost three hours long, it’s a pretty lengthy introduction to the sage. However, if the rest of the series lives up to this standard, I’m sure it’ll all be worth it in the end.
And quite frankly, any Japanese movie that kicks off with some Marc Bolan has already won me over.
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Subtitle Challenge: Day 2
Today, going strong on the challenge, we have a movie that has been tempting me for a long time, and indeed one that I feel a fool for not watching sooner...
Koroshiya 1
Ichi the Killer
(Takeshi Miike, 2001)
4.5 Stars
Koroshiya 1, or Ichi the Killer as it is known in English, is one of those films that I’ve always been aware of, but just never bothered to watch. As one of my dear friend Michael’s favourite films, I am surprised I was never sat down to watch it during my university days, but then again, I was rather passive of Asian cinema back in my younger years.
Infamous for its ultraviolence and notorious tongue-slicing scene, Miike’s manga adaptation really is two hours of high-octane cartoonish craziness, managing with Miike’s signature needle-point precision to submerse its audience in a surreal yet somehow believable world.
Set in the grungy Yakuza-run Shibuya, Ichi follows the exploits of second in command Kakihara as he carves his way through the local gang life in search of the eponymous Ichi, a merciless killer who has supposedly kidnapped his gang’s leader.
Tadanobu Asano as the iconic Kakihara is an intoxicating delight from start to finish, a true masochist behind his Chelsea smile, making Heath Ledger’s Joker look like a kitten. He also has the coolest dress sense a man could ever dream of. His trusted side-kicks, psychotic twins Jiro and Saburo (both played by Suzuki Matsuo) hit the screen like a sadistic Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, somehow bringing hilarity to their depraved behaviour.
The one initial flaw I found was that of Ichi himself, played by Nao Omori, who seems somewhat cartoonish amidst the dark and grimy Yakuza world, most notably in his first killing spree (involving a man literally being sliced in half by the spurs on Ichi’s shoes), but once this initial weirdness has time to settle in, it truly makes sense within the rest of the film.
Fluctuating at times between Japanese, English and Cantonese, and taking viewers on a high energy tour of Tokyo, Miike truly captures the craziness of the Shibuya streets, whilst juxtaposing it perfectly against his gory, and at times disturbing, presentation of the Anjo gang.
Crazed and depraved, Ichi is ultimately thought-provoking and almost tender, presenting us with some of the most psychologically complex characters imaginable. It’s also at times wickedly funny, overly violent and genuinely exciting, bringing to the screen a true representation of the insanity of Japanese manga. There’s also some damned fine coats on show, and everyone knows that’s the most important thing.
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
The Great Nipponese Subtitle Challenge: Day 1
So, I’ve been in Japan a while now, and despite my love of films, I’ve watched a shockingly paltry amount of the local offerings. In the past nine months, I’ve probably watched less than five Japanese movies. Rather disgraceful.
Of course, one of the main issues here is that DVDs of local movies don’t actually have English subtitles, and with my Japanese not exactly stellar, we hit something of a wall.
But to the challenge: The internet, as we all know, is host to pretty much every film one could ever need (apart from Yoshihiro Hoshino’s Cho Kowai Hanashi, which I rather fancied this weekend, but couldn’t find ANYWHERE), and, when it comes to Asian movies, pretty much every language of subtitle one could wish for. So, having watched the delightful Suicide Club yesterday, I decided to set myself a challenge; one week of only Japanese films, thus hopefully improving not only my submersion into the culture, but also my listening skills.
The rules are simple; at least one film each day, each and every one being made in Japan and in Japanese language. Watching English language films during the next seven days deems the quest null and void. I have some classics picked out already, but if you, fair reader, have any recommendations, just let me know. Here’s the plan so far:
· Seven Samurai
· Ichi The Killer
· Godzilla (1954)
· Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance
· Happiness of the Katakuris
· 20th Century Boys
· Dark Water
· And, just ‘cause I love it, Battle Royale (again…)
Should we have time, I may also revisit some horror “classics” like Ring, Ju-on and Audition, and perhaps treat myself to some more light-hearted Miyazaki fun.
And so to day one, where we have two films, both great in their own way, one of which I’ve been wanting to watch for a long time, and the other I probably won’t be wanting to watch ever again.
Kyuketsu Shojo tai Shojo Furanken
Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl
(Yoshihiro Nishimura and Naoyuki Tomomatsu, 2009)
4.5 Stars
Japan is stupid. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way at all. In fact, I say it rather affectionately. Japanese humour is utterly daft, and their obsession with crazy schoolgirls is borderline weird. That said, when it comes to utterly insane comic book style action movies about schoolgirl vampires, only Japan could have ever come up with the awesome comedy gore-fest that is Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl.
Forget the mopey, whiny teen vamps that have been polluting our screens for all too long now, and make way for the delicious Yukie Kawamura, the “vampire girl” of the title. The new student at what has to be the weirdest school on the planet; a school where wrist cutting is a sporting event, and a group of students black up and walk around trying to be Michael Jackson, Monami the vampire (hehe... Mona the Vampire....) finds herself falling in love with school stud Jyugon (Takumi Saito).
However, when Jyugon’s would be girlfriend Keiko (played by painfully sexy Japanese model Eri Otoguro) discovers her new rival’s true identity, she accidentally throws herself off the school roof, giving her father (who rather inexplicably believes himself to be the grandson of Victor Frankenstein) the opportunity to try out his crazed research. Suffice to say, as you can guess by the title, there’s subsequently some serious monster smack-downs. On the top of Tokyo Tower. Naturally.
It’s stupid, and it’s totally cheesy, with some pretty awful special effects, but it knows it, and quite frankly, what do you expect from a film called Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl? On the positive side, this is one of the funniest, coolest and sexiest movies I’ve seen in a long time, and certainly runs rings around Western horror comedies. A great way to start the week of Japanese movies, and already vying for a place in my all-time top movies.
Of course, one of the main issues here is that DVDs of local movies don’t actually have English subtitles, and with my Japanese not exactly stellar, we hit something of a wall.
But to the challenge: The internet, as we all know, is host to pretty much every film one could ever need (apart from Yoshihiro Hoshino’s Cho Kowai Hanashi, which I rather fancied this weekend, but couldn’t find ANYWHERE), and, when it comes to Asian movies, pretty much every language of subtitle one could wish for. So, having watched the delightful Suicide Club yesterday, I decided to set myself a challenge; one week of only Japanese films, thus hopefully improving not only my submersion into the culture, but also my listening skills.
The rules are simple; at least one film each day, each and every one being made in Japan and in Japanese language. Watching English language films during the next seven days deems the quest null and void. I have some classics picked out already, but if you, fair reader, have any recommendations, just let me know. Here’s the plan so far:
· Seven Samurai
· Ichi The Killer
· Godzilla (1954)
· Lone Wolf and Cub: Sword of Vengeance
· Happiness of the Katakuris
· 20th Century Boys
· Dark Water
· And, just ‘cause I love it, Battle Royale (again…)
Should we have time, I may also revisit some horror “classics” like Ring, Ju-on and Audition, and perhaps treat myself to some more light-hearted Miyazaki fun.
And so to day one, where we have two films, both great in their own way, one of which I’ve been wanting to watch for a long time, and the other I probably won’t be wanting to watch ever again.
Kyuketsu Shojo tai Shojo Furanken
Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl
(Yoshihiro Nishimura and Naoyuki Tomomatsu, 2009)
4.5 Stars
Japan is stupid. I don’t mean that in a derogatory way at all. In fact, I say it rather affectionately. Japanese humour is utterly daft, and their obsession with crazy schoolgirls is borderline weird. That said, when it comes to utterly insane comic book style action movies about schoolgirl vampires, only Japan could have ever come up with the awesome comedy gore-fest that is Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl.
Forget the mopey, whiny teen vamps that have been polluting our screens for all too long now, and make way for the delicious Yukie Kawamura, the “vampire girl” of the title. The new student at what has to be the weirdest school on the planet; a school where wrist cutting is a sporting event, and a group of students black up and walk around trying to be Michael Jackson, Monami the vampire (hehe... Mona the Vampire....) finds herself falling in love with school stud Jyugon (Takumi Saito).
However, when Jyugon’s would be girlfriend Keiko (played by painfully sexy Japanese model Eri Otoguro) discovers her new rival’s true identity, she accidentally throws herself off the school roof, giving her father (who rather inexplicably believes himself to be the grandson of Victor Frankenstein) the opportunity to try out his crazed research. Suffice to say, as you can guess by the title, there’s subsequently some serious monster smack-downs. On the top of Tokyo Tower. Naturally.
It’s stupid, and it’s totally cheesy, with some pretty awful special effects, but it knows it, and quite frankly, what do you expect from a film called Vampire Girl Vs Frankenstein Girl? On the positive side, this is one of the funniest, coolest and sexiest movies I’ve seen in a long time, and certainly runs rings around Western horror comedies. A great way to start the week of Japanese movies, and already vying for a place in my all-time top movies.
Nekeddo Buraddo: Megyaku
Splatter: Naked Blood
(Hisayasu Sato, 1995)
3 Stars
If there’s one thing Asian films are famous for, it’s their gut-wrenchingly high levels of gruesome gore that despite their bloody flow over here are generally far too sordid and taboo for Western audiences.
So, as a tentative step in my foray into Japanese cinema, I decided to go full out and throw myself in at the deep end with one of Japan’s most notoriously gory exploits, Hisayasu Sato’s 1995 blood-fest Nekeddo Burrado. Oh golly gosh.
Years earlier, Sato made his name in the exploitation industry with his 1987 film Rape: For Real, a tale of devilish debauchery the world had ne’er seen the likes of, and one that is still under international censorship to this day. Good times.
His 90’s venture is pretty grim, with some of the most nauseatingly realistic depictions of self-mutilation I think I’ve ever seen. The scene in which a young woman, driven mad by the pain-to-pleasure drug “MySon”, removes her own eyeball and proceeds to eat it gleefully is, to my recollection, the only scene in cinema that has ever actually made me feel physically sick. Exactly how it was done, I’m not sure, but it’s pretty darn convincing.
But I’m probably jumping ahead a little, so here’s a run down of the story; young genius Eiji Kure (played with a wonderful innocence by Sadao Abe) concocts a formula that can convert feelings of sadness or pain into joy, with which he hopes to end world suffering. Unfortunately, the drug has somewhat psychotic side-effects, driving his test subjects insane with ecstasy, causing one, in a scene rather reminiscent of many of Takeshi Miike’s films, to turn herself into a human pincushion. The second, as I have mentioned, literally eats herself to death, whilst the third becomes a psychotic serial killer, relishing in the pain of others. It’s all good fun.
Behind all the grotesque, however, there is a rather smart existential message about not only the dangers of “world changing” ideals, but the lengths the human race goes to for pleasure. At least I think there is. If not, it’s just a bloody grim piece of exploitation. I’ll leave it to you to decide. If you can stomach it.
Splatter: Naked Blood
(Hisayasu Sato, 1995)
3 Stars
If there’s one thing Asian films are famous for, it’s their gut-wrenchingly high levels of gruesome gore that despite their bloody flow over here are generally far too sordid and taboo for Western audiences.
So, as a tentative step in my foray into Japanese cinema, I decided to go full out and throw myself in at the deep end with one of Japan’s most notoriously gory exploits, Hisayasu Sato’s 1995 blood-fest Nekeddo Burrado. Oh golly gosh.
Years earlier, Sato made his name in the exploitation industry with his 1987 film Rape: For Real, a tale of devilish debauchery the world had ne’er seen the likes of, and one that is still under international censorship to this day. Good times.
His 90’s venture is pretty grim, with some of the most nauseatingly realistic depictions of self-mutilation I think I’ve ever seen. The scene in which a young woman, driven mad by the pain-to-pleasure drug “MySon”, removes her own eyeball and proceeds to eat it gleefully is, to my recollection, the only scene in cinema that has ever actually made me feel physically sick. Exactly how it was done, I’m not sure, but it’s pretty darn convincing.
But I’m probably jumping ahead a little, so here’s a run down of the story; young genius Eiji Kure (played with a wonderful innocence by Sadao Abe) concocts a formula that can convert feelings of sadness or pain into joy, with which he hopes to end world suffering. Unfortunately, the drug has somewhat psychotic side-effects, driving his test subjects insane with ecstasy, causing one, in a scene rather reminiscent of many of Takeshi Miike’s films, to turn herself into a human pincushion. The second, as I have mentioned, literally eats herself to death, whilst the third becomes a psychotic serial killer, relishing in the pain of others. It’s all good fun.
Behind all the grotesque, however, there is a rather smart existential message about not only the dangers of “world changing” ideals, but the lengths the human race goes to for pleasure. At least I think there is. If not, it’s just a bloody grim piece of exploitation. I’ll leave it to you to decide. If you can stomach it.
Tokyo Calling
Tokyo
(Graham Marks, 2006)
2 Stars
I received this afore-to unheard of piece of pulp fiction from a dear friend of mine as one of those jokey Christmas presents. A book entitled “Tokyo”, with a lead character whose name is an amalgam of my own and my friends, picked up at a charity shop. Yeah, admittedly, I was quite amused.
It’s always interesting to see someone else’s perspective of the Neon labyrinth that is Japan’s capital city, especially that of a fellow Westerner, as, to be quite honest, I wasn’t all that keen on Tokyo; a confusing, ill-thought out maze with far too many people bustling about and a plethora of sights, sounds and smells that are all too foreign for my liking. And everything’s built for people five feet tall. After reading this equally confusing, ill-thought out novel by allegedly award-winning author Graham Marks, I wasn’t too keen on Tokyo either.
The story, about a teenager whose sister goes missing in the electric mayhem, is nonsensical and unbelievable as Adam (our hero) runs away from home in search of his lost sibling, only to run into overly friendly locals and not so friendly Yakuza. It’s not that these folk don’t exist, it’s just the “all in forty eight hours” story arc is plain daft. Marks’ writing style is also incredibly grating, as he attempts to write as a seventeen year old boy; not in that kind of endearing Huck Finn or Holden Caulfield way, but in an obnoxious “trying to be cool” style that failed to make me like either Marks or his protagonist.
On the positive side, Marks’ depiction of the city itself is spot on; the insanity, the fast pacing and the sheer alienation. However, to experience and see everything the Adam does in his first day is nigh on impossible. Especially with a healthy case of jet lag and a bout of culture shock to wash it down with. Told from Adam’s “coolio” perspective, however, any wonder of Tokyo falls flat on its face.
There’s little to endear me to Marks’ Tokyo I’m afraid, aside from the hilarity of receiving an aptly chosen crap book. I’m kind of glad it was rubbish to be honest; a lot of the humour of its reasoning would’ve been lost. Disengage brain, turn off wits and sit back for the dull ride; the exact opposite of the real Tokyo.
(Graham Marks, 2006)
2 Stars
I received this afore-to unheard of piece of pulp fiction from a dear friend of mine as one of those jokey Christmas presents. A book entitled “Tokyo”, with a lead character whose name is an amalgam of my own and my friends, picked up at a charity shop. Yeah, admittedly, I was quite amused.
It’s always interesting to see someone else’s perspective of the Neon labyrinth that is Japan’s capital city, especially that of a fellow Westerner, as, to be quite honest, I wasn’t all that keen on Tokyo; a confusing, ill-thought out maze with far too many people bustling about and a plethora of sights, sounds and smells that are all too foreign for my liking. And everything’s built for people five feet tall. After reading this equally confusing, ill-thought out novel by allegedly award-winning author Graham Marks, I wasn’t too keen on Tokyo either.
The story, about a teenager whose sister goes missing in the electric mayhem, is nonsensical and unbelievable as Adam (our hero) runs away from home in search of his lost sibling, only to run into overly friendly locals and not so friendly Yakuza. It’s not that these folk don’t exist, it’s just the “all in forty eight hours” story arc is plain daft. Marks’ writing style is also incredibly grating, as he attempts to write as a seventeen year old boy; not in that kind of endearing Huck Finn or Holden Caulfield way, but in an obnoxious “trying to be cool” style that failed to make me like either Marks or his protagonist.
On the positive side, Marks’ depiction of the city itself is spot on; the insanity, the fast pacing and the sheer alienation. However, to experience and see everything the Adam does in his first day is nigh on impossible. Especially with a healthy case of jet lag and a bout of culture shock to wash it down with. Told from Adam’s “coolio” perspective, however, any wonder of Tokyo falls flat on its face.
There’s little to endear me to Marks’ Tokyo I’m afraid, aside from the hilarity of receiving an aptly chosen crap book. I’m kind of glad it was rubbish to be honest; a lot of the humour of its reasoning would’ve been lost. Disengage brain, turn off wits and sit back for the dull ride; the exact opposite of the real Tokyo.
Monday, 24 May 2010
Schoolgirl Suicide
Jisatsu Sakuru
Suicide Club
(Shion Sono, 2001)
3 Stars
I woke this morning rather in the mood for some bizarre Japanese horror. Not really surprising, what with being in Japan and being rather fond of horror films. But there you go. The bizarre thing is, it’s rather tricksy trying, as an Englishman, to watch Asian films over here, as none seem to come with that oh so handy feature known as the subtitle. So god bless YouTube and its entirely legal selection of fillums.
Shion Sono’s notorious Jisatsu Sakuru is a rather strange experience, taking the viewer through pretty much every genre imaginable; horror, detective drama, techno-thriller, and that all too important Eighties David Bowie Style Musical. Like I said, it’s a weird one.
The film begins with the shocking mass suicide of 54 girls at Ueno subway station in Tokyo. It is, I must say, one of the most powerful opening sequences I’ve seen in a while. Certainly since Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist. From there, we are plunged into the world of the inevitably ill-fated detective Kuroda, played with staunch valour by Japanese legend Ryo Ishibashi (Ju-on, Brother) as he attempts to uncover the cause of the bizarre suicides that follow.
I must say, the first hour of the film is great, four or five star stuff, with some intriguing plot twists, excellent direction, and some painfully watchable death sequences (notably the scene in which a young mother happily butchers her own hand… Lovely, lovely Japanese…). Thereafter however, with the appearance of “Genesis” (a weird Bowie-esque figure played by Japanese singer Rolly), the film just seems to descend into nonsense. A godawful Labyrinth-esque sequence preceeds a bunch of inexplicable psycho-babble that in no way explains what has actually been going on. As such, as we reach the end of the film, the viewer is left utterly clueless as to the cause of the bizarre happenings. Apparently it’s all explained in Sono’s follow-up Noriko No Shokutaku, but the bored teenager in me rather needs some closure in the first film thankyouverymuch. Same reason I don’t like Lost.
In all, however, I did enjoy Suicide Club. And it has, like the Japanese music industry itself, re-enforced my distrust of J-Pop. Cutesy twelve years olds giving subliminal messages encouraging suicide? Only in Asia…
Suicide Club
(Shion Sono, 2001)
3 Stars
I woke this morning rather in the mood for some bizarre Japanese horror. Not really surprising, what with being in Japan and being rather fond of horror films. But there you go. The bizarre thing is, it’s rather tricksy trying, as an Englishman, to watch Asian films over here, as none seem to come with that oh so handy feature known as the subtitle. So god bless YouTube and its entirely legal selection of fillums.
Shion Sono’s notorious Jisatsu Sakuru is a rather strange experience, taking the viewer through pretty much every genre imaginable; horror, detective drama, techno-thriller, and that all too important Eighties David Bowie Style Musical. Like I said, it’s a weird one.
The film begins with the shocking mass suicide of 54 girls at Ueno subway station in Tokyo. It is, I must say, one of the most powerful opening sequences I’ve seen in a while. Certainly since Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist. From there, we are plunged into the world of the inevitably ill-fated detective Kuroda, played with staunch valour by Japanese legend Ryo Ishibashi (Ju-on, Brother) as he attempts to uncover the cause of the bizarre suicides that follow.
I must say, the first hour of the film is great, four or five star stuff, with some intriguing plot twists, excellent direction, and some painfully watchable death sequences (notably the scene in which a young mother happily butchers her own hand… Lovely, lovely Japanese…). Thereafter however, with the appearance of “Genesis” (a weird Bowie-esque figure played by Japanese singer Rolly), the film just seems to descend into nonsense. A godawful Labyrinth-esque sequence preceeds a bunch of inexplicable psycho-babble that in no way explains what has actually been going on. As such, as we reach the end of the film, the viewer is left utterly clueless as to the cause of the bizarre happenings. Apparently it’s all explained in Sono’s follow-up Noriko No Shokutaku, but the bored teenager in me rather needs some closure in the first film thankyouverymuch. Same reason I don’t like Lost.
In all, however, I did enjoy Suicide Club. And it has, like the Japanese music industry itself, re-enforced my distrust of J-Pop. Cutesy twelve years olds giving subliminal messages encouraging suicide? Only in Asia…
Swedish to follow Sweded...
Lat Den Ratte Komma In
Let the Right One In
(Tomas Alfredson, 2008)
2 Stars
I’m going to start by saying I know nothing of Swedish cinema. I probably know more about quantum physics than I do of the matter. However, with all the hype that Tomas Alfredson’s vampire drama Lat Den Ratte Komma In has received of late, I figured I should give it a go. And I probably shan’t be returning to Swedish ventures any time soon.
I’ll probably ruffle a few feathers here. Probably the “oh, you’ve missed the point” crowd, but, quite frankly, I found this movie to be utterly boring, pretentious and, for use of a better word, wanky.
Remniscent of the equally dull Twilight movie, Lat Den Ratte Komma In is shot exclusively in that same dreary monotone, with little to no music to add interest (there’s atmospheric and there’s plain dull chaps…), and tells the now all too familiar tale of schoolday vampiric relations.
To be fair to its young actors, they do put in a good show, with Lina Leandersson quite enchanting as the young boy-turned-girl-turned-vampire, but the encompassing story is so very without incident that even the greatest of actors would fail to rouse some intrigue.
Featuring the gayest bullies since Kiefer Sutherland in Stand By Me and the most hilariously bad scene involving angry cats since Keyboard Cat graced our computer screens, Lat Den Ratte Komma In will, and indeed has, find a cult following I’m sure, but quite honestly, I’d rather watched Robert Pattinson whining for another two hours.
(Tomas Alfredson, 2008)
2 Stars
I’m going to start by saying I know nothing of Swedish cinema. I probably know more about quantum physics than I do of the matter. However, with all the hype that Tomas Alfredson’s vampire drama Lat Den Ratte Komma In has received of late, I figured I should give it a go. And I probably shan’t be returning to Swedish ventures any time soon.
I’ll probably ruffle a few feathers here. Probably the “oh, you’ve missed the point” crowd, but, quite frankly, I found this movie to be utterly boring, pretentious and, for use of a better word, wanky.
Remniscent of the equally dull Twilight movie, Lat Den Ratte Komma In is shot exclusively in that same dreary monotone, with little to no music to add interest (there’s atmospheric and there’s plain dull chaps…), and tells the now all too familiar tale of schoolday vampiric relations.
To be fair to its young actors, they do put in a good show, with Lina Leandersson quite enchanting as the young boy-turned-girl-turned-vampire, but the encompassing story is so very without incident that even the greatest of actors would fail to rouse some intrigue.
Featuring the gayest bullies since Kiefer Sutherland in Stand By Me and the most hilariously bad scene involving angry cats since Keyboard Cat graced our computer screens, Lat Den Ratte Komma In will, and indeed has, find a cult following I’m sure, but quite honestly, I’d rather watched Robert Pattinson whining for another two hours.
Sunday, 23 May 2010
Sweded
Be Kind Rewind
(Michael Gondry, 2008)
4 Stars
I remember getting very excited about Michael Gondry’s underground little film festival entry Be Kind Rewind when I first saw the trailers back in '08. With the oft-irritating but occasionally wonderful Jack Black and the bizarrely endearing Mos Def sending up a variety of classic films, it was surely one not to be missed. The movie, however, like so many that year, came and passed without my realising. Gawd bless Aberystwyth and its one cinema.
So, upon my Friday night journey to the video store (which is not the most simple of adventures in Japan, seeing as my reading fluency is currently about that of a five year old child, and most films here have an entirely unrelated name from the English language original), I was rather pleased to stumble upon a copy of “Our Future Depends on the Reverse Fortune of This Shop “ amidst the sci-fi and horror section (I don’t know either…). I also got a Hannah Montana poster from the “old posters we’re getting rid of” bin, but that’s neither here nor there…
Set in a decaying video store, Be Kind Rewind has a distinctively eighties feel about it, at times reminding me of Batteries Not Included and Scrooged due to its “saving an old building” theme and almost cringingly feel-good ending. But that aside, it’s a ruddy good film. Black is on fine form, in possibly his best role since High Fidelity, as a hopeless film fan who, after being magnetised in a freak accident, inadvertently wipes all the tapes at his friend Mike’s (Mos Def) video store.
In an attempt to rectify their mistake before their boss returns from a research trip, the two decide to recreate the movies using a hand-held camera and no cash. These “sweded” films are certainly the highlight of the movie (most notably the first Ghostbusters skit), and yet at no point do they overshadow the rather touching storyline of an old man (Danny Glover) about to lose his life to modernisation.
Technically, the film is beautifully shot, managing to imitate the films which it lampoons, as well as creating its own style in itself. The final act, in which our heroes create their own original film, shows a real artistry, both in the film itself and the film within the film. I shall remember to use an old fan next time I want to make an old-looking movie.
Be Kind Rewind is not the rip-roaring comedy that most viewers probably would have expected, but is in fact an intelligent and touching tale of changing times and a wonderful homage to some classic flicks. And some not so classic ones…
(Michael Gondry, 2008)
4 Stars
I remember getting very excited about Michael Gondry’s underground little film festival entry Be Kind Rewind when I first saw the trailers back in '08. With the oft-irritating but occasionally wonderful Jack Black and the bizarrely endearing Mos Def sending up a variety of classic films, it was surely one not to be missed. The movie, however, like so many that year, came and passed without my realising. Gawd bless Aberystwyth and its one cinema.
So, upon my Friday night journey to the video store (which is not the most simple of adventures in Japan, seeing as my reading fluency is currently about that of a five year old child, and most films here have an entirely unrelated name from the English language original), I was rather pleased to stumble upon a copy of “Our Future Depends on the Reverse Fortune of This Shop “ amidst the sci-fi and horror section (I don’t know either…). I also got a Hannah Montana poster from the “old posters we’re getting rid of” bin, but that’s neither here nor there…
Set in a decaying video store, Be Kind Rewind has a distinctively eighties feel about it, at times reminding me of Batteries Not Included and Scrooged due to its “saving an old building” theme and almost cringingly feel-good ending. But that aside, it’s a ruddy good film. Black is on fine form, in possibly his best role since High Fidelity, as a hopeless film fan who, after being magnetised in a freak accident, inadvertently wipes all the tapes at his friend Mike’s (Mos Def) video store.
In an attempt to rectify their mistake before their boss returns from a research trip, the two decide to recreate the movies using a hand-held camera and no cash. These “sweded” films are certainly the highlight of the movie (most notably the first Ghostbusters skit), and yet at no point do they overshadow the rather touching storyline of an old man (Danny Glover) about to lose his life to modernisation.
Technically, the film is beautifully shot, managing to imitate the films which it lampoons, as well as creating its own style in itself. The final act, in which our heroes create their own original film, shows a real artistry, both in the film itself and the film within the film. I shall remember to use an old fan next time I want to make an old-looking movie.
Be Kind Rewind is not the rip-roaring comedy that most viewers probably would have expected, but is in fact an intelligent and touching tale of changing times and a wonderful homage to some classic flicks. And some not so classic ones…
Friday, 21 May 2010
Reality Sucks...
The Drawn Together Movie:
The Movie!
(Dave Jesser and Matthew Silverstein, 2010)
4 Stars
Eight housemates, 10,000 cameras, ridiculous challenges and a healthy dose of un-PC racism and flatulence. Sound familiar?
No, this isn’t Big Brother, this is the long awaited movie version of Comedy Central’s hilariously offensive animated reality TV show Drawn Together.
Parodying just about any subject imaginable, Drawn Together graced our screens for three ingenious series before creators Matt and Dave moved onto bigger, brighter ventures. Starring a cast of obvious and yet somehow unthinkable cartoon spoofs, such as Disney Princess lookalike Clara and the Oriental Battle Monster Ling-Ling (my personal favourite), Drawn Together pushed boundaries that even South Park could only ever dream of.
And then many years passed without a new episode. True, we were treated to the great Blaxploitation spin-off that was The Judge Fudge Adventure Power Hour starring the always delicious Judge Fudge, but no new Drawn Together. As such, it was with enraptured delight that I discovered that the ever-delayed Drawn Together Movie The Movie had hit our shelves.
The Movie sees our stars discovering that they are no longer on the air ad are in fact in a Truman Show style fallacy, subsequently embarking on a quest to get themselves back in their own time slot, whilst being hunted down by the trouble making I.S.R.A.E.L. (cue far too many bad taste Israel jokes, not one of which falls flat) and taking on the evil Suck My Taint Girl (a more than blatant shot at South Park’s popularity).
With the entire cast on perfect from, and cameos from all the great supporting characters; the Jew Producer, Judge Fudge (only missing Ling-Ling’s lame friend Steve from Long Island), The Drawn Together Movie The Movie delivers punch after punch of outrageous and hilarious animated fun. Just don’t watch it with the kids.
The Movie!
(Dave Jesser and Matthew Silverstein, 2010)
4 Stars
Eight housemates, 10,000 cameras, ridiculous challenges and a healthy dose of un-PC racism and flatulence. Sound familiar?
No, this isn’t Big Brother, this is the long awaited movie version of Comedy Central’s hilariously offensive animated reality TV show Drawn Together.
Parodying just about any subject imaginable, Drawn Together graced our screens for three ingenious series before creators Matt and Dave moved onto bigger, brighter ventures. Starring a cast of obvious and yet somehow unthinkable cartoon spoofs, such as Disney Princess lookalike Clara and the Oriental Battle Monster Ling-Ling (my personal favourite), Drawn Together pushed boundaries that even South Park could only ever dream of.
And then many years passed without a new episode. True, we were treated to the great Blaxploitation spin-off that was The Judge Fudge Adventure Power Hour starring the always delicious Judge Fudge, but no new Drawn Together. As such, it was with enraptured delight that I discovered that the ever-delayed Drawn Together Movie The Movie had hit our shelves.
The Movie sees our stars discovering that they are no longer on the air ad are in fact in a Truman Show style fallacy, subsequently embarking on a quest to get themselves back in their own time slot, whilst being hunted down by the trouble making I.S.R.A.E.L. (cue far too many bad taste Israel jokes, not one of which falls flat) and taking on the evil Suck My Taint Girl (a more than blatant shot at South Park’s popularity).
With the entire cast on perfect from, and cameos from all the great supporting characters; the Jew Producer, Judge Fudge (only missing Ling-Ling’s lame friend Steve from Long Island), The Drawn Together Movie The Movie delivers punch after punch of outrageous and hilarious animated fun. Just don’t watch it with the kids.
Taking The Spice Out Of Curry
CoCo Ichibanya
Yanai City
The Japanese love their curry. If, however, you are expecting the massive variety of sauces and spices, the poppadoms, the naan breads and the chutneys ubiquitous to the UK Friday night fayre, then I am afraid, my friend, that you shall be sorely disappointed. Like every non-native dish, be it hamburgers, pastas, or even the simple omelette, the Japanese have taken curry and transmogrified it into their own unique attempt. Like I said, the Japanese love THEIR curry.
Imagine, if you will, every foodstuff under the sun, each doused in standard chip-shop curry sauce and served with the omnipresent Japanese sticky rice. This is essentially the menu of CoCo Ichi, Japan’s number one curry chain (indeed, the name itself means “here is best”). There is a full range of food items to be covered in the multi-purpose sauce. Perhaps you fancy a cheese curry? Or maybe clams? Hotdogs perhaps? No? Well what about the all too appealing omelette curry?
I must admit, I had the same lukewarm reaction when I was first introduced to CoCo; there mere fact that there was not a bhaji in sight something of a downer. But, after a couple of subsequent visits, I’ve really rather learned to like it. Maybe it’s just the acceptance that a chicken shashlick and a peshwari naan are out of the question, but the always popular “chicken kats caré” (a hand-breaded chicken breast served over rice and sauce) really is quite yum.
I don’t know. I’m rather torn when it comes to my opinion of Japan’s take on curry. On one hand it’s tasty enough, it’s warming, cheap, and one of the few meals that really does fill a hole. On the other hand, it’s a bit crap.
Yanai City
The Japanese love their curry. If, however, you are expecting the massive variety of sauces and spices, the poppadoms, the naan breads and the chutneys ubiquitous to the UK Friday night fayre, then I am afraid, my friend, that you shall be sorely disappointed. Like every non-native dish, be it hamburgers, pastas, or even the simple omelette, the Japanese have taken curry and transmogrified it into their own unique attempt. Like I said, the Japanese love THEIR curry.
Imagine, if you will, every foodstuff under the sun, each doused in standard chip-shop curry sauce and served with the omnipresent Japanese sticky rice. This is essentially the menu of CoCo Ichi, Japan’s number one curry chain (indeed, the name itself means “here is best”). There is a full range of food items to be covered in the multi-purpose sauce. Perhaps you fancy a cheese curry? Or maybe clams? Hotdogs perhaps? No? Well what about the all too appealing omelette curry?
I must admit, I had the same lukewarm reaction when I was first introduced to CoCo; there mere fact that there was not a bhaji in sight something of a downer. But, after a couple of subsequent visits, I’ve really rather learned to like it. Maybe it’s just the acceptance that a chicken shashlick and a peshwari naan are out of the question, but the always popular “chicken kats caré” (a hand-breaded chicken breast served over rice and sauce) really is quite yum.
I don’t know. I’m rather torn when it comes to my opinion of Japan’s take on curry. On one hand it’s tasty enough, it’s warming, cheap, and one of the few meals that really does fill a hole. On the other hand, it’s a bit crap.
Wonder-Full
Wonderfalls
(Todd Holland and Bryan Fuller, 2004)
4.5 Stars
I watch too much TV. I’ll freely admit that. And in my never-ending quest to find the world’s greatest programming, I inevitably stumble upon some godawful shows along the way. Many of said shows run for years, bringing about that age old question “why is there never anything good on tele?”
And I shall tell you why there’s nothing good on, dear reader; it’s because that elite group of absolute genii that make up the high-earning producers of TVLand keep cancelling the good shows before anyone knows about them. Give plenty of advertising to brainless trite like Two and a Half Men (season eight now is it??) and Keeping up with the Kardashians, and no wonder the world is such a depressing place.
So we turn to Bryan Fuller, a man who has paved his way into cult culture by creating some of the most wonderful and life-affirming shows of the last decade. None of which made it past a second season. Shows such as the wickedly dark Dead Like Me, and the Technicolor wonder of Pushing Daisies, both of which were axed by foolish producers long before their time, and have since garnered huge followings via the wonder of DVD and the interweb. Not even fellow victim of cancellation Joss Whedon can live up to Fuller’s “success”; Buffy ran for seven years. And ended on Whedon’s terms.
Wonderfalls (which I admit I did not discover until researching last week’s Tarquin’s Top Ten, and would’ve certainly made the list of premature cancellations) is, like Fuller’s other creations, a bright yet somehow maudlin take on the world, shot in brilliant colour, juxtaposed with a delightfully depressing and altogether life-affirming story. It’s all really quite complex actually… Fuller is masterful in his depiction of a world that is so dreadful to live in, that we can’t help but want to enjoy it. And life. Hmm…
Anyways. Wonderfalls centres around underachieving Niagara Falls gift-shop employee Jaye (palyed with wonderfully sardonic air by Canadian actress Caroline Dhavernas) who one day discovers that inanimate objects talk to her, giving her cryptic advice and ordering her to help her fellow man. It’s kind of a modern day Joan of Arc story. And a better one than Joan of Arcadia certainly. On top of her new found animal muses, Jaye must deal with her overly obtrusive family (including the wonderful Lee Pace, who would later star in Fuller’s Pushing Daisies, as her theologist brother), a blossoming relationship with a married man (Tyron Leitso - Dinotopia, House of the Dead), and having the horribly pushy Tracie Thoms (Rent, Cold Case) as a best friend. It’s a tough life.
Thankfully, the all too few thirteen episodes of Wonderfalls encapsulate an entire self-contained story, and although it could clearly have run for seasons to come, this is one of those rare cancellations that manage to leave the audience just sated enough when the final credits roll. Bitterly funny, hopelessly romantic and altogether beautifully crafted, Wonderfalls is a real piece of rare TV gold, and one that alas, like so many, remain buried save for we merry few that traverse the mines to find them.
Keep it together Bry; one day we’ll cause a gold rush.
(Todd Holland and Bryan Fuller, 2004)
4.5 Stars
I watch too much TV. I’ll freely admit that. And in my never-ending quest to find the world’s greatest programming, I inevitably stumble upon some godawful shows along the way. Many of said shows run for years, bringing about that age old question “why is there never anything good on tele?”
And I shall tell you why there’s nothing good on, dear reader; it’s because that elite group of absolute genii that make up the high-earning producers of TVLand keep cancelling the good shows before anyone knows about them. Give plenty of advertising to brainless trite like Two and a Half Men (season eight now is it??) and Keeping up with the Kardashians, and no wonder the world is such a depressing place.
So we turn to Bryan Fuller, a man who has paved his way into cult culture by creating some of the most wonderful and life-affirming shows of the last decade. None of which made it past a second season. Shows such as the wickedly dark Dead Like Me, and the Technicolor wonder of Pushing Daisies, both of which were axed by foolish producers long before their time, and have since garnered huge followings via the wonder of DVD and the interweb. Not even fellow victim of cancellation Joss Whedon can live up to Fuller’s “success”; Buffy ran for seven years. And ended on Whedon’s terms.
Wonderfalls (which I admit I did not discover until researching last week’s Tarquin’s Top Ten, and would’ve certainly made the list of premature cancellations) is, like Fuller’s other creations, a bright yet somehow maudlin take on the world, shot in brilliant colour, juxtaposed with a delightfully depressing and altogether life-affirming story. It’s all really quite complex actually… Fuller is masterful in his depiction of a world that is so dreadful to live in, that we can’t help but want to enjoy it. And life. Hmm…
Anyways. Wonderfalls centres around underachieving Niagara Falls gift-shop employee Jaye (palyed with wonderfully sardonic air by Canadian actress Caroline Dhavernas) who one day discovers that inanimate objects talk to her, giving her cryptic advice and ordering her to help her fellow man. It’s kind of a modern day Joan of Arc story. And a better one than Joan of Arcadia certainly. On top of her new found animal muses, Jaye must deal with her overly obtrusive family (including the wonderful Lee Pace, who would later star in Fuller’s Pushing Daisies, as her theologist brother), a blossoming relationship with a married man (Tyron Leitso - Dinotopia, House of the Dead), and having the horribly pushy Tracie Thoms (Rent, Cold Case) as a best friend. It’s a tough life.
Thankfully, the all too few thirteen episodes of Wonderfalls encapsulate an entire self-contained story, and although it could clearly have run for seasons to come, this is one of those rare cancellations that manage to leave the audience just sated enough when the final credits roll. Bitterly funny, hopelessly romantic and altogether beautifully crafted, Wonderfalls is a real piece of rare TV gold, and one that alas, like so many, remain buried save for we merry few that traverse the mines to find them.
Keep it together Bry; one day we’ll cause a gold rush.
Monday, 17 May 2010
Other Animals
Encounters with Animals
(Gerald Durrell, 1958)
(Gerald Durrell, 1958)
4 Stars
Growing up, I longed to be a zoo keeper. My love of animals spurned on by the televisual exploits of heroes of the day Michaela Strachan, Chris Packham, and of course the one and only Sir David Attenborough.
The one naturalist who stood shoulders above every other, however, was the world-renowned collector and founder of Jersey Wildlife Preservation Trust, Gerald Durrell. Since reading his seminal work My Family and Other Animals at a very tender and impressionable age, I fell utterly in love with Durrell and his adventures across the globe in search of some of nature’s most curious creatures.
Of course, I grew up, and alas the trials of real life put something of a dampener on my dreams of becoming a saviour to the natural world. My passion for wildlife, however, as perhaps proven by recurring “Japanese Wildlife” feature, has waned very little, and this part week I found comfort once again in the memoirs of my childhood hero.
Encounters with Animals is a collection of articles and speeches from Durrell’s days as a broadcaster, recalling with a loving humour some of his more bizarre creature-catching tales. Some of them are familiar, told previously in other works, whilst others are told here for the first time, though each and every one abounds with life and wonder that only Durrell can recreate.
Fifty years after its publication, and indeed fifteen years since Durrell’s passing, his books are still more than relevant, bringing joy and wonder in every page, and reminder the reader just how delicate and marvellous the world around us can be.
Growing up, I longed to be a zoo keeper. My love of animals spurned on by the televisual exploits of heroes of the day Michaela Strachan, Chris Packham, and of course the one and only Sir David Attenborough.
The one naturalist who stood shoulders above every other, however, was the world-renowned collector and founder of Jersey Wildlife Preservation Trust, Gerald Durrell. Since reading his seminal work My Family and Other Animals at a very tender and impressionable age, I fell utterly in love with Durrell and his adventures across the globe in search of some of nature’s most curious creatures.
Of course, I grew up, and alas the trials of real life put something of a dampener on my dreams of becoming a saviour to the natural world. My passion for wildlife, however, as perhaps proven by recurring “Japanese Wildlife” feature, has waned very little, and this part week I found comfort once again in the memoirs of my childhood hero.
Encounters with Animals is a collection of articles and speeches from Durrell’s days as a broadcaster, recalling with a loving humour some of his more bizarre creature-catching tales. Some of them are familiar, told previously in other works, whilst others are told here for the first time, though each and every one abounds with life and wonder that only Durrell can recreate.
Fifty years after its publication, and indeed fifteen years since Durrell’s passing, his books are still more than relevant, bringing joy and wonder in every page, and reminder the reader just how delicate and marvellous the world around us can be.
Tarquin's Top Ten Premature Cancellations
Ahoy hoy chaps and chappettes! It’s been a while, but it’s Tarquin Time once again here at Silver Screen Lining. This week, we were going to look at the Top TV Commercials of the ‘90s, but, having got lost in some Strange over the last few days, I figured we’d spend some time looking at some of the casualties and fatalities of televisual past.
So, without further a-Jew, I give you Tarquin’s top ten TV shows that got axed before their time…
10. God, The Devil and Bob (2000)
Short-lived philosophical animation featuring the voices of French Stewart, Alan Cumming and James Garner as the three most important figures in Christian mythology. One of whom goes by the name Bob.
9. Scrubs Med School (2009-2010)
When it was first announced that Scrubs was to continue after Zack Braff’s departure, I had more than my fair share of doubts. I was however, pleasantly surprised by the well drawn characters and consistent comedy that still managed to emanate from Bill Lawrence’s award winning concept. But then, just as the story arcs began to get good, the show went on mid-season hiatus. And then didn’t come back. Like its forefather Spin City, Scrubs was doomed from the moment its lead player left the building.
8. Greg the Bunny (2002)
Puppets have always been a hit and miss concept, indeed, even The Muppet Show took years to find a producer, and the ill-fated sock-based sitcom Greg the Bunny unfortunately just couldn’t find the viewers. Cuttingly funny, and delightfully crude, Greg paved the way for cult hit Avenue Q, but alas did little for Seth Green’s career…
7. Primeval (2007-2009)
A surprise smash hit when it started back in ‘07, even giving Doctor Who a run for its money, Primeval took a nose-dive when main player Douglas Henshall bowed out in the middle of season 3. His successor, Jason Fleyming, sucked, and by the end of the season it seemed that the plot had wandered off with the vast majority of viewers. There’s talk of a come-back next year, but maybe some things should stay buried…
6. Strange (2003)
Set to be Britain’s answer to Buffy, Strange told the tale of a disgraced priest who spends his life hunting demons. A great cast and entrancing writing couldn’t save one of the UK’s finest supernatural dramas from ever-changing time slots and a cut in BBC funding. Strange-ly, the BBC haven’t even released this classic on DVD yet, and the copy I have is from a very helpful chap I met via IMDB during my MA research.
5. The Sarah Silverman Program (2007-2010)
I have in the past gone into some detail as to why I love The Sarah Silverman Program so very much, and it was with deep regret that I learned of its cancellation after only three seasons. Too rich for most audiences and critics it would seem, Silverman’s biting humour will nonetheless continue as she steadily makes her way into the comedy hall of fame.
4. Kitchen Confidential (2005)
Based on Anthony Bourdain’s memoirs, Kitchen Confidential was a deliciously hilarious comedy that I believe simply went over most viewers’ heads; the kitchen situation was only funny to those who have worked in the industry, and the humour often too smart for many of those who do. Axed after only three episodes were aired, a deluxe DVD of all thirteen shows that were shot is one of my prized rarities.
3. Pushing Daisies (2007-2009)
The first of Bryan Fuller’s wonderful creations to hit the list is the Technicolor marvel of imagination that is musical fairytale detective drama Pushing Daisies. Funny, touching and infuriatingly addictive, this, like everything else Fuller has ever created, was pulled after just two seasons.
2. Dead Like Me (2003-2004)
Another of Bryan Fuller’s ill-fated productions is the deliciously bitter Dead Like Me, a show that centres on a group of grim reapers as they go about their daily lives. Despite the occasionally dull story arcs involving the deceased lead George’s family, Dead Like Me was a consistently funny and thought=provoking show that really managed to give you the funnier side of death.
1. Firefly (2005)
Of all the shows that have been ripped prematurely from our screens, Joss Whedon’s too-cinematic-for-television masterpiece, Firefly, is undoubtedly the most tragic. The concept, cowboys in space, is ingenious, and delivered with such aplomb by the exquisite cast and top-notch writers that one would have expected this to have run for years. Unfortunately, FOX, being the great minds that they are, messed around with viewing schedules, ran episodes in the wrong order, and all about acted like douchebags. Taken from us long before its time, Firefly truly was a leaf on the wind that we never saw soar.
So, without further a-Jew, I give you Tarquin’s top ten TV shows that got axed before their time…
10. God, The Devil and Bob (2000)
Short-lived philosophical animation featuring the voices of French Stewart, Alan Cumming and James Garner as the three most important figures in Christian mythology. One of whom goes by the name Bob.
9. Scrubs Med School (2009-2010)
When it was first announced that Scrubs was to continue after Zack Braff’s departure, I had more than my fair share of doubts. I was however, pleasantly surprised by the well drawn characters and consistent comedy that still managed to emanate from Bill Lawrence’s award winning concept. But then, just as the story arcs began to get good, the show went on mid-season hiatus. And then didn’t come back. Like its forefather Spin City, Scrubs was doomed from the moment its lead player left the building.
8. Greg the Bunny (2002)
Puppets have always been a hit and miss concept, indeed, even The Muppet Show took years to find a producer, and the ill-fated sock-based sitcom Greg the Bunny unfortunately just couldn’t find the viewers. Cuttingly funny, and delightfully crude, Greg paved the way for cult hit Avenue Q, but alas did little for Seth Green’s career…
7. Primeval (2007-2009)
A surprise smash hit when it started back in ‘07, even giving Doctor Who a run for its money, Primeval took a nose-dive when main player Douglas Henshall bowed out in the middle of season 3. His successor, Jason Fleyming, sucked, and by the end of the season it seemed that the plot had wandered off with the vast majority of viewers. There’s talk of a come-back next year, but maybe some things should stay buried…
6. Strange (2003)
Set to be Britain’s answer to Buffy, Strange told the tale of a disgraced priest who spends his life hunting demons. A great cast and entrancing writing couldn’t save one of the UK’s finest supernatural dramas from ever-changing time slots and a cut in BBC funding. Strange-ly, the BBC haven’t even released this classic on DVD yet, and the copy I have is from a very helpful chap I met via IMDB during my MA research.
5. The Sarah Silverman Program (2007-2010)
I have in the past gone into some detail as to why I love The Sarah Silverman Program so very much, and it was with deep regret that I learned of its cancellation after only three seasons. Too rich for most audiences and critics it would seem, Silverman’s biting humour will nonetheless continue as she steadily makes her way into the comedy hall of fame.
4. Kitchen Confidential (2005)
Based on Anthony Bourdain’s memoirs, Kitchen Confidential was a deliciously hilarious comedy that I believe simply went over most viewers’ heads; the kitchen situation was only funny to those who have worked in the industry, and the humour often too smart for many of those who do. Axed after only three episodes were aired, a deluxe DVD of all thirteen shows that were shot is one of my prized rarities.
3. Pushing Daisies (2007-2009)
The first of Bryan Fuller’s wonderful creations to hit the list is the Technicolor marvel of imagination that is musical fairytale detective drama Pushing Daisies. Funny, touching and infuriatingly addictive, this, like everything else Fuller has ever created, was pulled after just two seasons.
2. Dead Like Me (2003-2004)
Another of Bryan Fuller’s ill-fated productions is the deliciously bitter Dead Like Me, a show that centres on a group of grim reapers as they go about their daily lives. Despite the occasionally dull story arcs involving the deceased lead George’s family, Dead Like Me was a consistently funny and thought=provoking show that really managed to give you the funnier side of death.
1. Firefly (2005)
Of all the shows that have been ripped prematurely from our screens, Joss Whedon’s too-cinematic-for-television masterpiece, Firefly, is undoubtedly the most tragic. The concept, cowboys in space, is ingenious, and delivered with such aplomb by the exquisite cast and top-notch writers that one would have expected this to have run for years. Unfortunately, FOX, being the great minds that they are, messed around with viewing schedules, ran episodes in the wrong order, and all about acted like douchebags. Taken from us long before its time, Firefly truly was a leaf on the wind that we never saw soar.
Sunday, 16 May 2010
Regional Variety
The last week or so has been punctuated with some awesome rarities from across the land of KitKats, each of which I have had an all too brief one-bar taste. We also have a new creation from the genii at Nestle’s for your delectation… Enjoy!
Zunda KitKat – 2 Fingers
The first of two rarities, brought back by one of my students from a trip to Sendai is the curious “zunda” KitKat. Now, I’m not entirely sure exactly what “zunda” is, but I believe it’s some kind of soy-based mochi. Indeed that’s what the KitKat tastes like. With a milky green chocolate and a rather peculiar taste, this wouldn’t be my bar of choice, but it certainly isn’t bad.
Cherry KitKat – 3 Fingers
The second of my Sendai special editions is a much more pleasant little treat; rich pink chocolate infused with a delightfully aromatic cherry flavour. By far one of the best fruit flavoured varieties, it’s rather a shame I could only get one bar of these hard to come by Wonka-like creation.
Custard Pudding KitKat – 4 Fingers
I actually half-inched this one from my pub landlord… He had recently been to Kobe, the home of this lovely rarity, and returned with a box of mini-bars. Clearly he was not aware just how prized regional varieties are to the serious collector… Very similar to the national custard pudding version, with an aromatic white chocolate that tastes just like real custard, this was made even more of a treat by my own naughtiness in retrieving it.
Strawberry KitKat Balls – 3.5 Fingers
Now, these are quite strange really… Not exactly KitKats in the strictest sense, they are nonetheless chocolatey, wafery and delightfully strawberry-y. A wonderful little snack from those fine chocolatiers at Nestle Japan.
Zunda KitKat – 2 Fingers
The first of two rarities, brought back by one of my students from a trip to Sendai is the curious “zunda” KitKat. Now, I’m not entirely sure exactly what “zunda” is, but I believe it’s some kind of soy-based mochi. Indeed that’s what the KitKat tastes like. With a milky green chocolate and a rather peculiar taste, this wouldn’t be my bar of choice, but it certainly isn’t bad.
Cherry KitKat – 3 Fingers
The second of my Sendai special editions is a much more pleasant little treat; rich pink chocolate infused with a delightfully aromatic cherry flavour. By far one of the best fruit flavoured varieties, it’s rather a shame I could only get one bar of these hard to come by Wonka-like creation.
Custard Pudding KitKat – 4 Fingers
I actually half-inched this one from my pub landlord… He had recently been to Kobe, the home of this lovely rarity, and returned with a box of mini-bars. Clearly he was not aware just how prized regional varieties are to the serious collector… Very similar to the national custard pudding version, with an aromatic white chocolate that tastes just like real custard, this was made even more of a treat by my own naughtiness in retrieving it.
Strawberry KitKat Balls – 3.5 Fingers
Now, these are quite strange really… Not exactly KitKats in the strictest sense, they are nonetheless chocolatey, wafery and delightfully strawberry-y. A wonderful little snack from those fine chocolatiers at Nestle Japan.
Saturday, 15 May 2010
An Apology To Chris Columbus
Yesterday, I had somewhat of a rant about my hatred for Mr Chris Columbus. Mistakenly, I had accredited him to the disgrace of cinema that is Jurassic Park 3, when in fact this monstrosity was directed by one Joe Johnson.
Johnson has recently made up for this misdemeanour with his re-imagining of The Wolfman. Nonetheless, he must still take the rap for his past mistakes. Johnson, you're a douche.
And Columbus, I am sorry.
I still hate you though.
Johnson has recently made up for this misdemeanour with his re-imagining of The Wolfman. Nonetheless, he must still take the rap for his past mistakes. Johnson, you're a douche.
And Columbus, I am sorry.
I still hate you though.
A Trilogy 65 Million Years in the Making
Jurassic Park
(Steven Spielberg, 1994)
5 Stars
Telephone transcript between Steven Spielberg and Michael Crichton, circa 1993:
SS: Hey Mike, fancy making the greatest film EVER?
MC: Yeah, alright.
SS: Awesome.
End transcript.
So why do I love Jurassic Park so much? Well, it just everything you need in a movie, isn’t it? In its following and quotability, few films can match Spielberg’s epic monsterpiece, and its groundbreaking effects still stand strong, if not atop, in today’s cinema.
From the moment Doctors Grant and Satler (Sam Neill and Laura Dern in their most career-defining roles) first see the magnificently rendered brachiosaurus, both actors and audience are equally transfixed, making this one of cinema’s most magical moments of all time. The dinosaurs are flawless throughout; the sick triceratops moves and moans as a real animal would, and the carnivores are so perfectly created that you really do believe that a T-Rex could attack your car or raptors terrorise your kitchen. Also, interestingly, despite their cult status, we don’t actually see the raptors until fifteen minutes before the end of the film; their presence and foreboding is simply created by the knowledge of their omnipresence; a perfect example of Crichton’s masterful writing.
But it’s not simply the prehistoric creatures that perform with aplomb; every member of the perfectly picked cast delivers with the utmost conviction, from Richard Attenborough’s fatherly John Hammond to Jeff Goldblum’s beautifully sardonic Chaos Theorist Ian Malcolm. Wayne Knight as the hopeless antagonist Dennis Nedry is brilliantly inept, whilst Samuel L. Jackson is intoxicating as the chain–smoking tech-whiz Ray Arnold, with his dismembered arm putting in a stellar show. Even child actors Joseph Mazzello and Ariana Richards do a fine job as Hammond’s grandchildren.
The award, however, has to go to the late Bob Peck, who is simply marvellous as cynical park ranger Robert Muldoon, delivering each and every line with a well-timed perfection that few actors can ever dream of achieving.
With tension and humour abounding, all set to John Williams’ grandiose yet tender score, Jurassic Park is truly a masterpiece of cinema, and looking at it almost twenty year on, I can still see why both I and so very many others fell in love with this seminal film. Every scene is a classic, and every line memorable. Just remember if ever you’re on the toilet when a T-rex attacks, he can’t see you if you don’t move.
The Lost World: Jurassic Park
(Steven Spielberg, 1997)
3.5 Stars
The Lost World has had a lot of bad press over the years. Okay, it’s not as good as its predecessor, but let’s face it, it was never going to be. What it is, however, is a ruddy good sequel, and, in its own right, a jolly fun adventure romp.
The Lost World does exactly what ever good sequel should do; it adds to the mythology of the original film in a logical and believable way, and then throws in double the action and double the adventure. Sure, the story isn’t as good as the first, or for that matter, as good as the book. But it’s fun, and there’s two T-rexes.
The dinosaurs are as believable as the first time round (although, I must say, the raptors are a little shoddily animated in one or two shots during the climax), and the cast are strong, most notably Jeff Goldblum reprising his role as Dr Ian Malcolm, and the ever-delightful Pete Postelthwaite (Romeo & Juliet) as big game hunter Roland Tembo. Even Vince Vaughan (Dodgeball) is pretty good as wildlife photographer/activist Nick Van Owen. Alas Julianne Moore (Hannibal) is quite annoying. But perhaps that’s just because I don’t like her.
Sure, there are flaws; the ridiculous gymnastics display used by Malcolm’s daughter to escape a raptor attack is plain daft, and the T-rex in San Diego during the epilogue is, well… It was raptors in the book, and that was scary. A T-rex just recreates Godzilla. On the whole, however, I’m still a big fan of The Lost World, and have vivid recollections of my Panini sticker album. Them were the days.
Jurassic Park III
(Chris Columbus, 2001)
1 Star
And this is where the plot, along with the original director, gets lost. I’ve ranted for hours in the past about why JP3 sucks big time, so I’ve decided here to simply give some comprehensive bullet-points.
Enjoy.
· Let’s start with the obvious one: Good ol’ Mister Spinosaur. The team in The Lost World travelled all over Isla Sorna, and not once did they come across this rather pants looking beast, and yet it seems to crop up EVERYWHERE in this movie. Nonsense.
· The effects SUCK. The raptors look like weird birds, and the spinosaur looks like something that was made on Blue Peter. I couldv’e done better in the time it took to write Speed 2.
· The raptors: In both previous movies, the raptors were all the more terrifying simply because we never saw them. In JP3, they’re there right from the start, and are these pansy little things that get defeated by a whistle. What a load of bollocks.
· The “who gets killed” checklist: Of the cast of ten or so, we have Dr Grant, who can’t be killed, mum, dad and son, who can’t be killed, and then half a dozen nameless peons. I wonder who dies? Even the “death” of Grant’s assistant turns out to have a happy ending. This is meant to be a thriller, not happy bloody families.
· The family concept: Is just crap.
· Exactly what happens at the beginning of the movie is unexplained; are we to assume there are sea monsters too, or did Mr Omnipresent Spinosaur pop out for a swim in the open water?
· Alan’s return to the island: He simply wouldn’t go. Contrived trite.
· There’s no magic moment; JP had the brachiosaurus, whilst Lost World had the stegs… JP3 meanwhile decides to abandon what makes the films so wonderful and instead just throw us straight in with the sticky-back-plastic carnivores.
· The cop-out ending: Because the studio ran out of cash. And the one that was proposed was shite anyway.
· Chris Columbus is a douche.
· I hate Chris Columbus.
The one redeeming feature, and the only thing that earns Jurassic Park 3 its one star is the excellent pteranodon sequence, though even that was an out-take from the first movie. I hate you Chris Columbus, just in case you missed it the first few times.
(Steven Spielberg, 1994)
5 Stars
Telephone transcript between Steven Spielberg and Michael Crichton, circa 1993:
SS: Hey Mike, fancy making the greatest film EVER?
MC: Yeah, alright.
SS: Awesome.
End transcript.
So why do I love Jurassic Park so much? Well, it just everything you need in a movie, isn’t it? In its following and quotability, few films can match Spielberg’s epic monsterpiece, and its groundbreaking effects still stand strong, if not atop, in today’s cinema.
From the moment Doctors Grant and Satler (Sam Neill and Laura Dern in their most career-defining roles) first see the magnificently rendered brachiosaurus, both actors and audience are equally transfixed, making this one of cinema’s most magical moments of all time. The dinosaurs are flawless throughout; the sick triceratops moves and moans as a real animal would, and the carnivores are so perfectly created that you really do believe that a T-Rex could attack your car or raptors terrorise your kitchen. Also, interestingly, despite their cult status, we don’t actually see the raptors until fifteen minutes before the end of the film; their presence and foreboding is simply created by the knowledge of their omnipresence; a perfect example of Crichton’s masterful writing.
But it’s not simply the prehistoric creatures that perform with aplomb; every member of the perfectly picked cast delivers with the utmost conviction, from Richard Attenborough’s fatherly John Hammond to Jeff Goldblum’s beautifully sardonic Chaos Theorist Ian Malcolm. Wayne Knight as the hopeless antagonist Dennis Nedry is brilliantly inept, whilst Samuel L. Jackson is intoxicating as the chain–smoking tech-whiz Ray Arnold, with his dismembered arm putting in a stellar show. Even child actors Joseph Mazzello and Ariana Richards do a fine job as Hammond’s grandchildren.
The award, however, has to go to the late Bob Peck, who is simply marvellous as cynical park ranger Robert Muldoon, delivering each and every line with a well-timed perfection that few actors can ever dream of achieving.
With tension and humour abounding, all set to John Williams’ grandiose yet tender score, Jurassic Park is truly a masterpiece of cinema, and looking at it almost twenty year on, I can still see why both I and so very many others fell in love with this seminal film. Every scene is a classic, and every line memorable. Just remember if ever you’re on the toilet when a T-rex attacks, he can’t see you if you don’t move.
The Lost World: Jurassic Park
(Steven Spielberg, 1997)
3.5 Stars
The Lost World has had a lot of bad press over the years. Okay, it’s not as good as its predecessor, but let’s face it, it was never going to be. What it is, however, is a ruddy good sequel, and, in its own right, a jolly fun adventure romp.
The Lost World does exactly what ever good sequel should do; it adds to the mythology of the original film in a logical and believable way, and then throws in double the action and double the adventure. Sure, the story isn’t as good as the first, or for that matter, as good as the book. But it’s fun, and there’s two T-rexes.
The dinosaurs are as believable as the first time round (although, I must say, the raptors are a little shoddily animated in one or two shots during the climax), and the cast are strong, most notably Jeff Goldblum reprising his role as Dr Ian Malcolm, and the ever-delightful Pete Postelthwaite (Romeo & Juliet) as big game hunter Roland Tembo. Even Vince Vaughan (Dodgeball) is pretty good as wildlife photographer/activist Nick Van Owen. Alas Julianne Moore (Hannibal) is quite annoying. But perhaps that’s just because I don’t like her.
Sure, there are flaws; the ridiculous gymnastics display used by Malcolm’s daughter to escape a raptor attack is plain daft, and the T-rex in San Diego during the epilogue is, well… It was raptors in the book, and that was scary. A T-rex just recreates Godzilla. On the whole, however, I’m still a big fan of The Lost World, and have vivid recollections of my Panini sticker album. Them were the days.
Jurassic Park III
(Chris Columbus, 2001)
1 Star
And this is where the plot, along with the original director, gets lost. I’ve ranted for hours in the past about why JP3 sucks big time, so I’ve decided here to simply give some comprehensive bullet-points.
Enjoy.
· Let’s start with the obvious one: Good ol’ Mister Spinosaur. The team in The Lost World travelled all over Isla Sorna, and not once did they come across this rather pants looking beast, and yet it seems to crop up EVERYWHERE in this movie. Nonsense.
· The effects SUCK. The raptors look like weird birds, and the spinosaur looks like something that was made on Blue Peter. I couldv’e done better in the time it took to write Speed 2.
· The raptors: In both previous movies, the raptors were all the more terrifying simply because we never saw them. In JP3, they’re there right from the start, and are these pansy little things that get defeated by a whistle. What a load of bollocks.
· The “who gets killed” checklist: Of the cast of ten or so, we have Dr Grant, who can’t be killed, mum, dad and son, who can’t be killed, and then half a dozen nameless peons. I wonder who dies? Even the “death” of Grant’s assistant turns out to have a happy ending. This is meant to be a thriller, not happy bloody families.
· The family concept: Is just crap.
· Exactly what happens at the beginning of the movie is unexplained; are we to assume there are sea monsters too, or did Mr Omnipresent Spinosaur pop out for a swim in the open water?
· Alan’s return to the island: He simply wouldn’t go. Contrived trite.
· There’s no magic moment; JP had the brachiosaurus, whilst Lost World had the stegs… JP3 meanwhile decides to abandon what makes the films so wonderful and instead just throw us straight in with the sticky-back-plastic carnivores.
· The cop-out ending: Because the studio ran out of cash. And the one that was proposed was shite anyway.
· Chris Columbus is a douche.
· I hate Chris Columbus.
The one redeeming feature, and the only thing that earns Jurassic Park 3 its one star is the excellent pteranodon sequence, though even that was an out-take from the first movie. I hate you Chris Columbus, just in case you missed it the first few times.
Friday, 14 May 2010
War of the Congo
Congo
(Michael Crichton, 1980)
VS
Congo
(Frank Marshall, 1995)
Talking gorillas. It’s not exactly the most spectacular of ideas for a story. And on top of that, talking gorillas that have been trained to kill people. Okay, well maybe it’s somewhat appealing. And from the mind of one of the greatest suspense writers of the twentieth century, the late Michael Crichton, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, when it comes to Crichton’s 1980 pulp hit, very little. In his typical style, Crichton kicks off with a mysterious death, leaving the reader in a state of shock and wondering what the heck just happened, only to leave us in complete pain-staking suspense as we are introduced to our main players (in this case a power-hungry geologist and a rather lovely young anthropologist and his “talking” gorilla), and solidly set in the science behind what is to come.
Congo tells the tale of a rescue expedition to the lost city of Zinj, the original mine of King Soloman, somewhere in the heart of the Congolese jungle, where a group of modern day diamond hunters have succumb to a mysterious predator, believed to be a new species of grey gorilla. Leading the expedition is the brilliant but emotionally defunct Karen Ross, a young geologist who cares only for her own career. By her side is the adorable Dr Peter Elliot, who, with his gorilla Amy, a gifted individual who can “talk” using over six hundred different signs, provide the main emotive narrative of the story. With them in their quest is the renowned “Great White Hunter” Captain Munro; a cigar-smoking and moustachioed adventurer who harks strongly back to his inspiration, Allan Quartermaine.
Of course Crichton’s talent is not in his characters, but in his ability to weave together science and story-telling in a both believable and entrancing fashion, giving the reader not only a tense and exciting adventure, but the feeling of being really quite clever simply by having picked up the book.
But these aspects of the narrative have clearly been forgotten when it comes to Frank Marshall’s 1995 film version of the novel, one which only mirrors its inspiration in name and the concept of the gorilla society.
Changing the motives and personalities of both Elliot and Ross, and adding the bizarre and entirely unnecessary Herkermer Homolka (Tim Curry, in possibly his worst role, and indeed worst accent, to date), the writers of Congo manage to utterly undermine the story, making it, quite frankly, dull as old dishwater.
Gone is the science and adventure, replaced by some terrible performances by leads Laura Linney and Dylan Walsh, and some gadawful gorilla puppets who look, quite honestly, like a Gremlin has mated with an old sock. Considering the visual wonders of Crichton’s most famous work, Jurassic Park, made the previous year, it is rather astounding at just how poor these creatures look. Not even the wonderful Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters, Oz) as Captain Munroe manages to save the day.
Congo is cinematic proof that messing too much with something that works will inevitably cause a meltdown. Whilst Crichton’s book will remain forever one of his finest works, the film is so terrible that I cannot even banish it to the B-Movie Basement; it’s just too pants. Crichton’s Congo is as rare a find as a blue diamond, or a new species of ape. Marshall’s is monkey poo.
Book – 5 Stars
Film – 0.5 Stars
(Michael Crichton, 1980)
VS
Congo
(Frank Marshall, 1995)
Talking gorillas. It’s not exactly the most spectacular of ideas for a story. And on top of that, talking gorillas that have been trained to kill people. Okay, well maybe it’s somewhat appealing. And from the mind of one of the greatest suspense writers of the twentieth century, the late Michael Crichton, what could possibly go wrong?
Well, when it comes to Crichton’s 1980 pulp hit, very little. In his typical style, Crichton kicks off with a mysterious death, leaving the reader in a state of shock and wondering what the heck just happened, only to leave us in complete pain-staking suspense as we are introduced to our main players (in this case a power-hungry geologist and a rather lovely young anthropologist and his “talking” gorilla), and solidly set in the science behind what is to come.
Congo tells the tale of a rescue expedition to the lost city of Zinj, the original mine of King Soloman, somewhere in the heart of the Congolese jungle, where a group of modern day diamond hunters have succumb to a mysterious predator, believed to be a new species of grey gorilla. Leading the expedition is the brilliant but emotionally defunct Karen Ross, a young geologist who cares only for her own career. By her side is the adorable Dr Peter Elliot, who, with his gorilla Amy, a gifted individual who can “talk” using over six hundred different signs, provide the main emotive narrative of the story. With them in their quest is the renowned “Great White Hunter” Captain Munro; a cigar-smoking and moustachioed adventurer who harks strongly back to his inspiration, Allan Quartermaine.
Of course Crichton’s talent is not in his characters, but in his ability to weave together science and story-telling in a both believable and entrancing fashion, giving the reader not only a tense and exciting adventure, but the feeling of being really quite clever simply by having picked up the book.
But these aspects of the narrative have clearly been forgotten when it comes to Frank Marshall’s 1995 film version of the novel, one which only mirrors its inspiration in name and the concept of the gorilla society.
Changing the motives and personalities of both Elliot and Ross, and adding the bizarre and entirely unnecessary Herkermer Homolka (Tim Curry, in possibly his worst role, and indeed worst accent, to date), the writers of Congo manage to utterly undermine the story, making it, quite frankly, dull as old dishwater.
Gone is the science and adventure, replaced by some terrible performances by leads Laura Linney and Dylan Walsh, and some gadawful gorilla puppets who look, quite honestly, like a Gremlin has mated with an old sock. Considering the visual wonders of Crichton’s most famous work, Jurassic Park, made the previous year, it is rather astounding at just how poor these creatures look. Not even the wonderful Ernie Hudson (Ghostbusters, Oz) as Captain Munroe manages to save the day.
Congo is cinematic proof that messing too much with something that works will inevitably cause a meltdown. Whilst Crichton’s book will remain forever one of his finest works, the film is so terrible that I cannot even banish it to the B-Movie Basement; it’s just too pants. Crichton’s Congo is as rare a find as a blue diamond, or a new species of ape. Marshall’s is monkey poo.
Book – 5 Stars
Film – 0.5 Stars
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
Bad Moon Rising
An American Werewolf in London
(John Landis, 1981)
5 Stars
Yesterday, I received what could possibly be the worst cinematic news of the century so far; Dimension films have decided to remake John Landis’ classic masterpiece of horror, comedy and visual effects An American Werewolf in London.
Now, normally I take remakes with a pinch of salt. They are, especially in the horror genre for some reason, an inevitability, and for the most part come and go, often fading into even more unrecognisable oblivion than the usually little known original. In this case, however, a remake seems to me utterly redundant, like remaking Jurassic Park or Trainspotting. The subsequent film will have not a patch of the impact of its inspiration.
So why am I so frustrated by this one? Is it because American Werewolf is quite simply one of the greatest horror films of all time? Or is it because it’s one of the greatest FILMS of all time? Or is it simply because it’s my favourite film. Of all time. The answer to all of the above; a resounding “yes”.
Walking the thin line that separates horror and comedy with a self-deprecating air of nonchalance, Landis threw caution to the wind in 1981, a year when screens were tussling between The Howling and Wolfen for the werewolf of the year award, creating the utmost underdog of a winner.
From its opening sequence in which American tourists David Naughton and Griffin Dunne tumble off the back of a sheep truck, American Werewolf is cuttingly hilarious, and yet never once detracts from its ultimate goal; to scare the pants off the audience. And here is where it truly delivers; keeping the audience in complete suspense throughout, we are not even introduced to Rick Baker’s astonishingly realistic werewolf until over an hour into the film, at which point we have a transformation sequence that remains to this day the most realistic and indeed painful change that has ever been put onto celluloid. And what makes it so real? No CGI, no cuts, just some really bloody good make-up effects. As I mentioned in my Wolfman review last week, if a studio had the balls to leave the CGI alone for a while, perhaps they could learn a few things from this momentous two minute scene. Even thereafter, however, we rarely see the entire wolf until the film’s climax, thus inducing an ever-growing sense of foreboding and fear, most notably in the famous London Underground scene, in which an unfortunate victim is chased mercilessly through the tunnels of what is actually the abandoned station of Aldwych (used all too often as a movie set since its closure). It is not until our charge collapses onto a moving escalator that we see the wolf, albeit from about twenty meters above and for only half a second. None of this in-yer-face “look at my crappy CGI monster” malarkey that has infected our cinemas since.
The effects are not confined to the werewolf however, as is evident in the gradually decaying corpse of Jack Goodman (Dunne) who pops up with hilarious and yet ominous exposition every once in a while. Indeed, Baker’s special effects were so ground-breaking that they caused the Academy to create a new Oscar category, gaining American Werewolf the first Oscar for Astounding Achievement in Make-up.
But it’s not all about the effects, as any good director knows (although it would seem not these days…), and the cast of American Werewolf are one of the finest ensembles of generally unkowns that one could ask for. The studio originally called for Akroyd and Bellushi to take the roles of David and Jack, but Landis, quite rightly, refused outright. David Naughton is perfect as the cursed David, reacting to his plight in a real and believable way, whilst Griffin Dunne is enchanting as the deceased Jack, delivering some amazingly cutting one-liners from behind his impeccable make-up. Jenny Agutter (Walkabout, The Railway Children) meanwhile is absolutely beautiful as the lovely Nurse Alex Price, who finds herself inexplicably drawn to the hopeless David. Even the supporting cast are flawless, with Lila Kaye, David Schofield and Rik Mayal amongst many others creating the most wonderfully realistic rural village feel in the infamous Slaughtered Lamb pub.
To top off the great cast, awesome effects and cutting script, we also have a perfectly chosen soundtrack (mostly songs featuring the word “moon” in the title), including a sumptuously steamy sex scene set to Van Morrison’s “Moondance”, and one of the greatest movie endings of all time in which shots of a bullet-holed David and a weeping Price are cut short by the booming tones of The Marcels’ “Blue Moon”. Priceless.
I realise now that I’ve gone to some length for this one, almost doubling the average length of a Silver Screen Lining review… Can you see how much I’m against the remake now??
(John Landis, 1981)
5 Stars
Yesterday, I received what could possibly be the worst cinematic news of the century so far; Dimension films have decided to remake John Landis’ classic masterpiece of horror, comedy and visual effects An American Werewolf in London.
Now, normally I take remakes with a pinch of salt. They are, especially in the horror genre for some reason, an inevitability, and for the most part come and go, often fading into even more unrecognisable oblivion than the usually little known original. In this case, however, a remake seems to me utterly redundant, like remaking Jurassic Park or Trainspotting. The subsequent film will have not a patch of the impact of its inspiration.
So why am I so frustrated by this one? Is it because American Werewolf is quite simply one of the greatest horror films of all time? Or is it because it’s one of the greatest FILMS of all time? Or is it simply because it’s my favourite film. Of all time. The answer to all of the above; a resounding “yes”.
Walking the thin line that separates horror and comedy with a self-deprecating air of nonchalance, Landis threw caution to the wind in 1981, a year when screens were tussling between The Howling and Wolfen for the werewolf of the year award, creating the utmost underdog of a winner.
From its opening sequence in which American tourists David Naughton and Griffin Dunne tumble off the back of a sheep truck, American Werewolf is cuttingly hilarious, and yet never once detracts from its ultimate goal; to scare the pants off the audience. And here is where it truly delivers; keeping the audience in complete suspense throughout, we are not even introduced to Rick Baker’s astonishingly realistic werewolf until over an hour into the film, at which point we have a transformation sequence that remains to this day the most realistic and indeed painful change that has ever been put onto celluloid. And what makes it so real? No CGI, no cuts, just some really bloody good make-up effects. As I mentioned in my Wolfman review last week, if a studio had the balls to leave the CGI alone for a while, perhaps they could learn a few things from this momentous two minute scene. Even thereafter, however, we rarely see the entire wolf until the film’s climax, thus inducing an ever-growing sense of foreboding and fear, most notably in the famous London Underground scene, in which an unfortunate victim is chased mercilessly through the tunnels of what is actually the abandoned station of Aldwych (used all too often as a movie set since its closure). It is not until our charge collapses onto a moving escalator that we see the wolf, albeit from about twenty meters above and for only half a second. None of this in-yer-face “look at my crappy CGI monster” malarkey that has infected our cinemas since.
The effects are not confined to the werewolf however, as is evident in the gradually decaying corpse of Jack Goodman (Dunne) who pops up with hilarious and yet ominous exposition every once in a while. Indeed, Baker’s special effects were so ground-breaking that they caused the Academy to create a new Oscar category, gaining American Werewolf the first Oscar for Astounding Achievement in Make-up.
But it’s not all about the effects, as any good director knows (although it would seem not these days…), and the cast of American Werewolf are one of the finest ensembles of generally unkowns that one could ask for. The studio originally called for Akroyd and Bellushi to take the roles of David and Jack, but Landis, quite rightly, refused outright. David Naughton is perfect as the cursed David, reacting to his plight in a real and believable way, whilst Griffin Dunne is enchanting as the deceased Jack, delivering some amazingly cutting one-liners from behind his impeccable make-up. Jenny Agutter (Walkabout, The Railway Children) meanwhile is absolutely beautiful as the lovely Nurse Alex Price, who finds herself inexplicably drawn to the hopeless David. Even the supporting cast are flawless, with Lila Kaye, David Schofield and Rik Mayal amongst many others creating the most wonderfully realistic rural village feel in the infamous Slaughtered Lamb pub.
To top off the great cast, awesome effects and cutting script, we also have a perfectly chosen soundtrack (mostly songs featuring the word “moon” in the title), including a sumptuously steamy sex scene set to Van Morrison’s “Moondance”, and one of the greatest movie endings of all time in which shots of a bullet-holed David and a weeping Price are cut short by the booming tones of The Marcels’ “Blue Moon”. Priceless.
I realise now that I’ve gone to some length for this one, almost doubling the average length of a Silver Screen Lining review… Can you see how much I’m against the remake now??
Tuesday, 11 May 2010
Sexy New Blogatory
Evening all; decided it was time for a bit of a Spring Clean here at Silver Screen, so I proudly unveil to you our brand spanking new title page (which certainly didn't take up all my prep time at work today...). Figured it was a little more in keeping with the feel of the blog, rather than the generic background I had going before.
Anyways, we've got some exciting stuff coming your way this week; I'm working on a Congo review, both of the book and the film, as well as a run-down of my recent trips to Korea and Miyajima. Tarquin meanwhile has a new top-ten coming your way; the long-awaited "Top Ten TV Commercials of the 1990s".
Keep you eyes peeled and stayed tuned!
Muchos amores
Grae
Anyways, we've got some exciting stuff coming your way this week; I'm working on a Congo review, both of the book and the film, as well as a run-down of my recent trips to Korea and Miyajima. Tarquin meanwhile has a new top-ten coming your way; the long-awaited "Top Ten TV Commercials of the 1990s".
Keep you eyes peeled and stayed tuned!
Muchos amores
Grae
Bertie's B-Movie Basement
I’ve been doing this blog malarkey for a while now, and in the abundance of movies I’ve looked at, it has become apparent that certain films cannot be judged in the same leagues as the more mainstream cinematic ventures that most critics would rate them. For example, one of my favourite Christmas movies, Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman cannot technically, in all its glory, be given any higher than a one star review, though in its own genius way, and for sheer schlock value, it would garner itself a full five stars. The same can be said for the masterpiece of comedy that is Return of the Killer Tomatoes, which, when compared to, say, Godfather Part 2, is shockingly appalling, but as a work of humour and stupidity likewise gains full marks in my eyes.
And so, in a new feature to Silver Screen Lining, I present to you Bertie’s B-Movie Basement, a segment in which I shall be looking at B-movie classics for exactly what they are; entirely incomparable to the mainstream.
Films in this section will be rated on their own unique daftness. Most likely, they shall be low budget, straight to video, and inevitably looked down on by the academic eye, but they shall gain marks for originality, comedy and, in true B-Movie tradition, utter stupidity.
Carnosaur
(Adam Simon and Darren Moloney, 1993)
3 Stars
The first of my basement ventures is the delightfully blatant Jurassic Park rip-off from the studios of the legendary Roger Corman (Tomb of Ligeia, The Pit and the Pendulum) that is Carnosaur. Allegedly based on John Brosnan’s book of the same name (though he now claims no affiliation with it), Carnosaur tells the tale (in a wonderfully badly plotted way) of a genetic scientist (Diane Ladd, Kingdom Hospital) hell-bent on destroying mankind by engineering dinosaurs using chicken DNA.
Along the way, we have some brilliantly bad puppets, most of which look like rejects from the “Boglins” range, accompanied by more gore than a Romero movie. The highlight therein being a remarkably stomach-churning scene in which a woman gives birth to a small plastic dinosaur. Exactly how graphics these bad preceded the visual wonder of Jurassic Park by only one year is both baffling and ultimately amusing.
Complimenting the terrible plot and cringe-worthy creatures is a script spattered with some truly great one liners and a cast that really give it their all. Real proof that conviction and comedy really are the key to a decent B-movie.
If you’re up for a great dino-flick, go for Spielberg’s masterpiece. If, however, you fancy a hilariously nonsensical creature feature, then be sure to check this out; you’ll never look at that Early Learning Centre t-rex the same way again.
And so, in a new feature to Silver Screen Lining, I present to you Bertie’s B-Movie Basement, a segment in which I shall be looking at B-movie classics for exactly what they are; entirely incomparable to the mainstream.
Films in this section will be rated on their own unique daftness. Most likely, they shall be low budget, straight to video, and inevitably looked down on by the academic eye, but they shall gain marks for originality, comedy and, in true B-Movie tradition, utter stupidity.
Carnosaur
(Adam Simon and Darren Moloney, 1993)
3 Stars
The first of my basement ventures is the delightfully blatant Jurassic Park rip-off from the studios of the legendary Roger Corman (Tomb of Ligeia, The Pit and the Pendulum) that is Carnosaur. Allegedly based on John Brosnan’s book of the same name (though he now claims no affiliation with it), Carnosaur tells the tale (in a wonderfully badly plotted way) of a genetic scientist (Diane Ladd, Kingdom Hospital) hell-bent on destroying mankind by engineering dinosaurs using chicken DNA.
Along the way, we have some brilliantly bad puppets, most of which look like rejects from the “Boglins” range, accompanied by more gore than a Romero movie. The highlight therein being a remarkably stomach-churning scene in which a woman gives birth to a small plastic dinosaur. Exactly how graphics these bad preceded the visual wonder of Jurassic Park by only one year is both baffling and ultimately amusing.
Complimenting the terrible plot and cringe-worthy creatures is a script spattered with some truly great one liners and a cast that really give it their all. Real proof that conviction and comedy really are the key to a decent B-movie.
If you’re up for a great dino-flick, go for Spielberg’s masterpiece. If, however, you fancy a hilariously nonsensical creature feature, then be sure to check this out; you’ll never look at that Early Learning Centre t-rex the same way again.
Monday, 10 May 2010
Not all that Smart, but fun nonetheless
Get Smart
(Peter Segal, 2008)
3 Stars
After recent nagging from my youngest brother to watch this Steve Carell spy caper, a remake of the classic American comedy series, I stumbled upon a copy in my local DVD store’s bargain bin (keeping in mind the price of DVDs over here dictates that the bargain bin is still more expensive than a brand spanking new release in the UK) and thus, with Harry’s ever gleaming review in mind, trotted home to share in his mirth.
And for the most part, I did. Get Smart is a pretty fun jaunt, with a few very enjoyable performances; most notably the always awesome Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine, So I Married an Axe Murderer) as the intelligence chief, and Heroes favourite Masi Oka as wonderfully stereotypical boffin Bruce. Unfortunately, thereafter, the cast are rather dust and lustless; Steve Carell (a number of films I really don’t care for) is his typical overrated self, whilst the lovely Anne Hathaway (The Princess Diaries, Alice in Wonderland) makes me wonder, not for the first time this month, exactly how she has risen to fame. Even Hollywood legend Terrence Stamp (Superman II, Young Guns) is utterly wooden as the generic baddie. And I shan’t bother to go into Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s performance…
The story is well-worn and predictable, causing me to work out exactly the outcome within moments of being introduced to the cast, but fortunately this mundanity is punctuated by some decent puns and some good old fashioned slap-stick. And a cameo by Bruce Campbell.
On the whole, Get Smart reminded me very much of a sub-par Ace Ventura; the kind of thing that Jim Carey would’ve done between better films. But then, Steve Carell has pretty much taken his place in the world. See Evan Almighty for more information.
(Peter Segal, 2008)
3 Stars
After recent nagging from my youngest brother to watch this Steve Carell spy caper, a remake of the classic American comedy series, I stumbled upon a copy in my local DVD store’s bargain bin (keeping in mind the price of DVDs over here dictates that the bargain bin is still more expensive than a brand spanking new release in the UK) and thus, with Harry’s ever gleaming review in mind, trotted home to share in his mirth.
And for the most part, I did. Get Smart is a pretty fun jaunt, with a few very enjoyable performances; most notably the always awesome Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine, So I Married an Axe Murderer) as the intelligence chief, and Heroes favourite Masi Oka as wonderfully stereotypical boffin Bruce. Unfortunately, thereafter, the cast are rather dust and lustless; Steve Carell (a number of films I really don’t care for) is his typical overrated self, whilst the lovely Anne Hathaway (The Princess Diaries, Alice in Wonderland) makes me wonder, not for the first time this month, exactly how she has risen to fame. Even Hollywood legend Terrence Stamp (Superman II, Young Guns) is utterly wooden as the generic baddie. And I shan’t bother to go into Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s performance…
The story is well-worn and predictable, causing me to work out exactly the outcome within moments of being introduced to the cast, but fortunately this mundanity is punctuated by some decent puns and some good old fashioned slap-stick. And a cameo by Bruce Campbell.
On the whole, Get Smart reminded me very much of a sub-par Ace Ventura; the kind of thing that Jim Carey would’ve done between better films. But then, Steve Carell has pretty much taken his place in the world. See Evan Almighty for more information.
Friday, 7 May 2010
Japanese Wildlife Part Two
In the last week alone, I’ve discovered a bounty of new beasts in the East, so, for your pleasure, I introduce to you some more of the weird and wonderful creatures to be found in JapanAsia.
Sika Deer
This adorable little deer species is found only in Japan, and is one of the largest minorities on the island of Miyajima, a breath-taking paradise that is so very “Japanese” it almost doesn’t feel real. Here, the sika populous roam the streets and are so utterly tame they seem oblivious to the throngs of tourists who share the island with them.
Yamori (Tawa Gecko)
The second major species of gecko to be found in Japan, the tawa is mottled in colour and, unlike his close relative, the house gecko, tends to hang around parks and streetlamps at twilight. There’s something a little seedy about that come to think of it… The vice squad of the lizard world…
Tombi (Black Kite)
There is an abundance of birds in Japan, most of whom are almost impossible to capture on camera, most notably the swallows, due to their perpetual mach seven weaving through the skies. The one that stands out, however, is the magnificent tombi, a medium-sized bird of prey that is so common down here amongst the mountains that it may as well be a pigeon. I believe the most I’ve seen in the sky at once is fourteen. Like I said, pigeon-common.
Semi (Cicada Beetle)
Yes, this is a picture of a cicada on my crotch. I won’t lie, despite their rainbow colours and symphonic twilight singing, I really don’t like cicadas. Their vast size and moth-like kamikaze tendencies make them a most unappealing little beast, and can make a walk through the park quite painful as the seventh beetle of the day comes crashing into you chest.
Shima-Hebi (Japanese Four-Lined Snake)
This chap was a joyous find, and, like his friend the ao-daisho (ratsnake), an accidental discovery when out on my veranda with my morning caffeinations. Approximately 1.5 metres in length, the shima-hebi was gliding through the shallows of the river behind my house. After watching, captivated, for a few minutes, I wandered along the banks only to discover two or three more of the silky serpents, each enjoying the morning sun as only a snake can.
Choo-Choo (Butterflies)
Okay, so maybe they’re not all that exotic, but the sheer volume of butterflies here is quite simply awe-inspiring. Usually found ducking and diving through willow branches, the vast number of species, of every size and colouring imaginable, is really rather impressive. I’m also determined to get my kids calling them flutter-bys. ‘Cause that’s what they are. Fact.
Ashinagabachi (Japanese Hornet)
One of the most dangerous of nasties in Japan (after the dreaded mukade of course), the Japanese hornet is really quite a frightful beast. About an inch and a half long, they move in small groups and are often found nesting in old tree stumps. Naturally, that’s not always the case, and I was unfortunate enough to discover a small nest under construction in the eaves above my veranda. Luckily, it seems they aren’t the world’s greatest builders, and I awoke one morning to find the whole thing had collapsed under its own weight. The residents had buzzed off sharpish… Dear god I’m a wit…
Saru (Japanese Macaque)
Monkeys are everywhere in Japan. Indeed, we’ve all seen the famous pictures of macaques bathing in the hot springs of Hokkaido. Macaques are actually a unique species amongst the animal kingdom, in that they are the only primate, save for humans, known to wash their food thoroughly before eating. Alas, despite various expeditions, I have yet to see a troupe in the wild, only coming across these wonderfully emotive creatures as performers, inevitably seen at every festival and street circus across the country, always looking snappily dandy and simultaneously tragic in little monkey waistcoats. I am determined to find some in the wild soon though, merely for reassurance purposes.
Sika Deer
This adorable little deer species is found only in Japan, and is one of the largest minorities on the island of Miyajima, a breath-taking paradise that is so very “Japanese” it almost doesn’t feel real. Here, the sika populous roam the streets and are so utterly tame they seem oblivious to the throngs of tourists who share the island with them.
Yamori (Tawa Gecko)
The second major species of gecko to be found in Japan, the tawa is mottled in colour and, unlike his close relative, the house gecko, tends to hang around parks and streetlamps at twilight. There’s something a little seedy about that come to think of it… The vice squad of the lizard world…
Tombi (Black Kite)
There is an abundance of birds in Japan, most of whom are almost impossible to capture on camera, most notably the swallows, due to their perpetual mach seven weaving through the skies. The one that stands out, however, is the magnificent tombi, a medium-sized bird of prey that is so common down here amongst the mountains that it may as well be a pigeon. I believe the most I’ve seen in the sky at once is fourteen. Like I said, pigeon-common.
Semi (Cicada Beetle)
Yes, this is a picture of a cicada on my crotch. I won’t lie, despite their rainbow colours and symphonic twilight singing, I really don’t like cicadas. Their vast size and moth-like kamikaze tendencies make them a most unappealing little beast, and can make a walk through the park quite painful as the seventh beetle of the day comes crashing into you chest.
Shima-Hebi (Japanese Four-Lined Snake)
This chap was a joyous find, and, like his friend the ao-daisho (ratsnake), an accidental discovery when out on my veranda with my morning caffeinations. Approximately 1.5 metres in length, the shima-hebi was gliding through the shallows of the river behind my house. After watching, captivated, for a few minutes, I wandered along the banks only to discover two or three more of the silky serpents, each enjoying the morning sun as only a snake can.
Choo-Choo (Butterflies)
Okay, so maybe they’re not all that exotic, but the sheer volume of butterflies here is quite simply awe-inspiring. Usually found ducking and diving through willow branches, the vast number of species, of every size and colouring imaginable, is really rather impressive. I’m also determined to get my kids calling them flutter-bys. ‘Cause that’s what they are. Fact.
Ashinagabachi (Japanese Hornet)
One of the most dangerous of nasties in Japan (after the dreaded mukade of course), the Japanese hornet is really quite a frightful beast. About an inch and a half long, they move in small groups and are often found nesting in old tree stumps. Naturally, that’s not always the case, and I was unfortunate enough to discover a small nest under construction in the eaves above my veranda. Luckily, it seems they aren’t the world’s greatest builders, and I awoke one morning to find the whole thing had collapsed under its own weight. The residents had buzzed off sharpish… Dear god I’m a wit…
Saru (Japanese Macaque)
Monkeys are everywhere in Japan. Indeed, we’ve all seen the famous pictures of macaques bathing in the hot springs of Hokkaido. Macaques are actually a unique species amongst the animal kingdom, in that they are the only primate, save for humans, known to wash their food thoroughly before eating. Alas, despite various expeditions, I have yet to see a troupe in the wild, only coming across these wonderfully emotive creatures as performers, inevitably seen at every festival and street circus across the country, always looking snappily dandy and simultaneously tragic in little monkey waistcoats. I am determined to find some in the wild soon though, merely for reassurance purposes.
Bumper KitKat Bonanza!
This month we have something of a bumper edition of the KitKat Kollective, featuring finds from all over East Asia. We have special editions from Tokyo and Fukuoka, and even a sneaky little charlatan I found in Korea… Enjoy…
Soy Sauce KitKat – 3.5 Fingers
This one really strikes me as a tourist special, being limited only to certain places in Tokyo, and is quite frankly, a bizarre choice for a chocolate bar. That said, it really works… The soy sauce infuses itself with the white chocolate giving a delightfully pungent mapley taste. Ruddy good show Japan.
Wasabi KitKat – 3 Fingers
This is just plain weird. Another of the Tokyo Tourist editions, this really does emulate the overpowering experience of too much of that famous Japanese horse radish. I wouldn’t say it’s one I would choose given the option, but for sheer balls, this gets a solid three fingers.
Kinako (toasted soy bean) KitKat – 2 Fingers
I’m not really sure what to think of the third of my Tokyo specials. Not knowing what kinako actually tastes like on its own (I’ve had it on mochi, but never thought to myself “hmm… I really fancy a spoonful of soybean powder…”), I’m not quite sure how to take it. It kind of tastes like a dusty KitKat. But maybe that’s what they were going for.
Framboise KitKat – 3 Fingers
Usually, I’m not a huge fan of the fruitier KitKats, but this one took me by surprise. Taking on the flavour of raspberry liqueur, it actually manages to taste alcoholic. The raspberry itself is perhaps a little overpowering, and does leave something of a saccharine aftertaste, but overall not an entirely unpleasant experience at all.
Yuzu and Chilli KitKat – 4 Fingers
This, a Fukuoka exclusive, is quite possibly the best variation that I have come across since my Kollecting began; infusing the Japanese citrus fruit yuzu (an aromatic lime-like fruit) with chilli and dark cholcolate, it creates a taste sensation that is just awesome. This is one of the rare payoffs for obsessive collecting. Thank you Mr. N.
Purple Potato KitKat – 0.5 Fingers
An Okinawa special that somehow found itself in Fukuoka station, I really only bought this for the sake of completion. And it’s rubbish. I had the regular potato variety a few months ago, and it was just horrible. And this one is worse, redeemed only by the fact it has a pretty wrapper and some quite attractive purple chocolate. Chocolate and potato simply doesn’t work. Give it up!
Ocha (green tea) KitKat Bar – 3.5 Fingers
Now usually, I’m not much of a fan of green tea. It’s growing on me certainly, but is by now means a beverage of choice. As such, I was delightfully surprised at just how good this one was. Substantial and filling, as all the bar varieties tend to be, this was also curiously tasty. And had green chocolate. Something I always admire.
KicKer – 0 Fingers
I was informed that KitKat was available in Korea, under a different name; KicKer. I was not informed, however, that said bar was a cuckoo’s egg; a pair of knock-off Nikes; a down-right fake. Made by Crown (whoever they are) KicKer, although to the untrained eye, a simple variation of KitKat, contains sub-par quality chocolate, and far too little wafer. Beware this impostor. If you have any concerns regarding counterfeit KitKats, please contact FAKT – the Federation Against KitKat Theft.
Soy Sauce KitKat – 3.5 Fingers
This one really strikes me as a tourist special, being limited only to certain places in Tokyo, and is quite frankly, a bizarre choice for a chocolate bar. That said, it really works… The soy sauce infuses itself with the white chocolate giving a delightfully pungent mapley taste. Ruddy good show Japan.
Wasabi KitKat – 3 Fingers
This is just plain weird. Another of the Tokyo Tourist editions, this really does emulate the overpowering experience of too much of that famous Japanese horse radish. I wouldn’t say it’s one I would choose given the option, but for sheer balls, this gets a solid three fingers.
Kinako (toasted soy bean) KitKat – 2 Fingers
I’m not really sure what to think of the third of my Tokyo specials. Not knowing what kinako actually tastes like on its own (I’ve had it on mochi, but never thought to myself “hmm… I really fancy a spoonful of soybean powder…”), I’m not quite sure how to take it. It kind of tastes like a dusty KitKat. But maybe that’s what they were going for.
Framboise KitKat – 3 Fingers
Usually, I’m not a huge fan of the fruitier KitKats, but this one took me by surprise. Taking on the flavour of raspberry liqueur, it actually manages to taste alcoholic. The raspberry itself is perhaps a little overpowering, and does leave something of a saccharine aftertaste, but overall not an entirely unpleasant experience at all.
Yuzu and Chilli KitKat – 4 Fingers
This, a Fukuoka exclusive, is quite possibly the best variation that I have come across since my Kollecting began; infusing the Japanese citrus fruit yuzu (an aromatic lime-like fruit) with chilli and dark cholcolate, it creates a taste sensation that is just awesome. This is one of the rare payoffs for obsessive collecting. Thank you Mr. N.
Purple Potato KitKat – 0.5 Fingers
An Okinawa special that somehow found itself in Fukuoka station, I really only bought this for the sake of completion. And it’s rubbish. I had the regular potato variety a few months ago, and it was just horrible. And this one is worse, redeemed only by the fact it has a pretty wrapper and some quite attractive purple chocolate. Chocolate and potato simply doesn’t work. Give it up!
Ocha (green tea) KitKat Bar – 3.5 Fingers
Now usually, I’m not much of a fan of green tea. It’s growing on me certainly, but is by now means a beverage of choice. As such, I was delightfully surprised at just how good this one was. Substantial and filling, as all the bar varieties tend to be, this was also curiously tasty. And had green chocolate. Something I always admire.
KicKer – 0 Fingers
I was informed that KitKat was available in Korea, under a different name; KicKer. I was not informed, however, that said bar was a cuckoo’s egg; a pair of knock-off Nikes; a down-right fake. Made by Crown (whoever they are) KicKer, although to the untrained eye, a simple variation of KitKat, contains sub-par quality chocolate, and far too little wafer. Beware this impostor. If you have any concerns regarding counterfeit KitKats, please contact FAKT – the Federation Against KitKat Theft.
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