Cochon D'Inde

When I first heard of the Japanese film series known as the Guinea Pig films, I was more than a little intrigued. A certain movie streaming network, which shall remain unnamed lest the powers that be take out their vengeful wrath upon their less than legal exploits, categorised the films as “horror shorts”. Naturally, my mind, being what it is, instantly envisaged a series of comic horror films about guinea pigs. Alas, upon further research, I was proved far from correct in my assumptions.

The Guinea Pig films are not, in reality, some cute creature features, but actually a series of extreme gore flicks harking from the perverse mind of Manga writer Hideshi Hino. The first two are so realistic in their depictions of violence, that there were, for a long time, thought to be actual snuff films, taking a very long and arduous court case to prove otherwise.

Last night I watched two of the films; the second and fourth in the series. And oh, what fun we had.

Gini Piggu: Manhoru no Naka no Ningyo
Mermaid in a Manhole
(Hideshi Hino, 1988)

No Stars

I often seem to be at a loss for words when it comes to Japanese films, and Mermaid in a Manhole has probably left me with the most nihilistic “what the hell have I just watched?” feeling of any film I’ve seen to date. A pretty impressive feat.

The story revolves around a painter, whose sanity is rather questionable from the outset, who discovers a dying mermaid in the sewer under his house. He takes in the mermaid and, rather than taking her to the authorities, who might just be able to help her, decides to paint her. As the film progresses, the mermaid becomes increasingly ill, breaking out in delightful pustules (which the painter drains and uses for his craft – like I said, questionable sanity here), before vomiting various creepy crawlies and eventually expiring.

There’s no art here; no deeper meaning, it’s simply an experiment in disgusting the audience, no more, no less. The acting is horrendous, and although the effects are good, and most certainly nauseating, there’s just no need for it.

Gore films do, I will admit, intrigue me. Pushing the limit of the human senses through film is a fascinating field for me, but it needs something more than meaningless puss flying everywhere. And the mermaid had nothing on Ariel.

Gini Piggu 2: Chiniku no Hana
Flower of Flesh and Blood
(Hideshi Hino, 1985)

3.5 Stars

This is the second, and perhaps most controversial of the Guinea Pig series, not only sparking a huge court case for snuff allegations after Charlie Sheen watched it, but also being associated with a copy-cat killer a few years after its release.

I must say, I can see why the court case came up. Flower of Flesh and Blood, quite honestly, has some of the most convincing special effects I’ve ever seen. When you also take into account this was made twenty five years ago on a minute budget, it really is quite a spectacular feat in film making.

There’s really not much of a narrative here; again based on one of Hino’s Manga stories, we follow a florist as he dismembers the body of a still-live young woman to use the parts in his ornate displays. It’s basically forty minutes of dismemberment and disembowelling. But dear lord is it entrancing.

Every cut, every slice, every sawn bone is so very convincing that, as a viewer, one can’t help but question just how it was done. When the young girl’s hand is removed, for example, we see every sinew, each tiny bone, and the hand, ghostlike, continues to move for a few seconds after removal. It’s bloody convincing.

How it was all done, I don’t know, and I shall most likely try to track down the “making of” film (though finding it in Japan shall be nigh on impossible, since all seven of the films have been banned over here since the aforementioned serial killer was found to have all of them in his video collection). As an exhibit of special effects, this is a masterpiece. As a film? Well, if you like that sort of thing…

Crawly Pants

The Human Centipede
(Tom Six, 2009)

1 Star

This is a movie that seems to have been getting a lot of hype on IMDB for being the most depraved film of recent years, causing outrage from critics, and audiences to vomit in cinemas. So, naturally, I had to watch it.

And quite honestly, I can’t see what the fuss is about. After an initial shocking idea (which, if you’ve seen the trailers, is already ruined by the advertising campaign), there is little substance or indeed interest to be found in Tom Six’s ninety minute yawn-fest.

The concept in itself is a disturbing and thought-provoking one; a typically clichéd mad scientist (who just happens to have every nuance of a Nazi doctor) picks up typically clichéd lost tourists for his insane experiments, the pinnacle of which is to create a “human centipede”; a man-made Siamese Triplet conjoined by the gastric system. In other words, sew three randomers together arse-to-mouth so that each person along the chain is fed by their precursors’ shit. Not quite what I expected from the title if I’m honest. I imagined some kind of manic manga creation. But maybe that’s just ‘cause I’m stuck in Japan.

Of course, being in Japan, I’ve developed somewhat high expectations of these “torture-porn” movies, and with what the subscribers of IMDB have been saying, I was up for something akin to the nauseating Naked Blood or even Mermaid in the Manhole. But no. Honestly? It’s just boring. It’s almost as if writer/director Tom Six had this idea for a short movie, and just decided to drag it out to a feature. The diagram drawn by Deiter Laser’s drawling doctor is actually more disturbing than any of the following hour.

As for the acting, it’s rather hard to judge. The female protagonists are two of the most annoying Americans I’ve seen on screen in a long time, and to be honest, I was glad when their incessant whining and idiocy was silenced by having their traps sewn to people’s backsides. The doctor himself is so-so at best, seeming to merely use the fact that he is German to show how very evil he is. Surprised the German Tourist Board hasn’t had something to say about that one. Akihiro Kitamura as the head of the “centipede” is somewhat endearing, screaming out in his native tongue and doing a lot of typically Asian gurning. One does wonder though exactly why a Japanese man who speaks not a word of German, or even English, has found himself in the middle of the Bavarian woods though…

I dunno. Maybe I’m just disaffected by cinema. I’ve seen too much depravity throughout my years of studying the medium. Maybe this really is a truly grotesque display of the abyss of man’s most degenerate imaginings, and I am simply too often subjected to such corruption that I have become numb to the surreal. Or perhaps that’s it? The fact that it’s not real. I still cry at TV. Quite often actually, so I can’t be that detached.

I’m over-speculating. This was just a crap film.

Four Fingers of Disappointment

Having received a delumptious package this morning from my new favourite website http://www.napajapan.com/ , a site that sells rare and regional varieties of Kitkats from across Nippon, I figured that I should catch up on the last month’s offerings before tucking in to anymore.

Unfortunately, recent ventures from those culinary genii at Nestle Japan have been a little on the disappointing side. Ho hum.

Strawberry Cheesecake KitKat – 2 Fingers

This is a regional variety from Yokohama, near Tokyo, that was purchased by my fellow hunter, the lovely Miss Manami. Unfortunately, upon arrival, this box of white chocolate fellows had all but melted into wafer-y lumps. Of course, twenty years on from the “broken biscuits aren’t the same” debacle, I could just about see past the fate of these poor mutants. Just about. The cheesecake variety certainly tastes like the real thing, but alas, this somehow doesn’t translate to a chocolate bar, leaving the consumer with a kind of feety aftertaste. I have yet to try the likewise regional Blueberry Cheesecake variation, but if this (and the Blueberry KitKat… To follow…) is anything to go by, I’ve rather lost my excitement.

Blueberry KitKat – 1 Finger

I must say, I don’t usually get excited about fruity KitKats, since there is most often something horribly saccharine about them. Blueberries being one of my favourites of natures snack, however, I decided to give this one a fair chance. Silly me. Remember way back before Tim Burton’s take on Willy Wonka, when you could buy WonkaBars that were purple and possibly Snozzberry flavoured? They were cool, ‘cause it was purple. And Wonka. Unfortunately, as I bit into this milk chocolate bar, I found myself flung back to childhood and that all too familiar taste. Which now, quite frankly, tastes awful.

Bitter Almond KitKat – 1.5 Fingers

Almonds have always been a case of take it or leave it for me. Occasionally, a shot of almond syrup in a latte is okay, but as a rule, the weird little nut whose name nobody is truly sure how to pronounce has never done it for me. As such, this KitKat, though capturing the taste of the real thing perfectly, really doesn’t tickle me. I’ll be sending a load home to my mother; a big fan of almondiness, so I’ll be intrigued to hear her opinions.

Aloe Yoghurt KitKat – 2.5 Fingers

There’s something of a “best of a bad bunch” feel here… Though, upon occasion, I’m quite fond of aloe flavoured stuff (gawd bless you, you crazy vegans!), I’m not sure if the partnership with chocolate really works. White chocolate, with a kind of sickly stickiness to its flavour. First taste, I was sold, but on repeated tries, this is really one whose novelty wears quickly thin.

Doodles Page

The more astute of you (if there are indeed any of your out there.... Who knows? I certainly don't!) may have noticed a new addition to the site; my Doodles Directory, featuring various scribblings. Some have featured on the site before, whilst others are projects I'm currently working on, or simply things that have made me giggle.

More shall appear sporadically, as and when they come to fruition, so keep an eye out for my twee scribblings!

Enjoy.

Going Gaga - The Language of Animals in Japan

We’ve all grown up learning the sounds of familiar farmyard animals. Whether we are country folk or city kids, we all know that a cow says “moo” and a sheep says “baa”. It’s Sesame Street stuff really. Knowledge that we acquire at an early age, often before more mandatory things like the alphabet or numbers past five. Well, I did anyways.

Of course as we grow older, we are introduced to other languages, and the way that people of different countries hear the world around them. It’s not surprising that a French dog, for example, gives its “woof” with a French accent, eliciting the somewhat haughty “owaff”. Generally speaking though, the animals of Europe all speak with the same dialect. I mean, just look at The Aristocats; cats just happen to speak with French accents.

Come to Japan however, and it’s not only the people that communicate in a language that’s all too alien to the Western eardrum, but apparently the animal kingdom also has a whole new language to get your head round.

My first experience with the voices of Nipponese beasties was back in Tokyo, not long after I arrived in the country. Being a big fan of pigs (one day, I shall own my own and he shall be known as Pigby, having grand adventures with a duck named Stuart whilst wearing a most fetching monocle), I had a pig shaped key-ring, which led my students to giggle about, crying “boo boo”. Confused, I asked my floor manager on the matter, who explained that pigs here do not say “oink”, as to which I am naturally accustomed, but in fact say “boo boo”. Hmm. And that was just the beginning.

Thereafter, I discovered that a pigeon’s cry is known as a “po-po”, whilst an elephant says “pa-oom” (I’m not actually sure what an elephant says in English. I always figured it was just a “trumpet”) and a frog “geru-geru”. A dog “wan-wan”s and a cow “gwon”s. A rabbit meanwhile, perhaps one of nature’s most non-vocal creatures, apparently says “pyowm-pyowm”.

My favourite however, is the duck. We all know the old saying that a duck’s quack has no echo, right? Well, I thought I had disproved this, as a family of ducks had been splashing about in the river just outside my house a few months ago, with their voices distinctly resonating along the banks. However, turns out ducks here do not quack, but in fact say “ga-ga” (hence the picture… I had an image of them singing the opening lines of “Bad Romance” whilst going about their ducky business), thus keeping the theory intact.

There are exceptions however; a Japanese sheep does say “meh”, and a cat’s purr is a “neow”, which are both pretty close to their English counterparts.

So, next time you’re strolling through the countryside, listening to those all too familiar sounds, spare a thought for the creatures of Japan, whose cries, quite frankly, sound bugger all like the real thing.

Japanese Wildlife - Beach Special

Well chaps, summer’s here in Yanai and the time is most certainly right for dancing on the beach. And with the sun has come a bevy of new wildlife, including the dreaded mukades and the annoyingly vocal “cow” frogs. However, having spent the last two weekends lounging languishingly on the beaches of a secluded little island just off the coast, I figured it only fitting to do a “Beach Special” of my Wildlife of Japan featurette.

So, without further ado, here’s a few of the beasties you can find along the shores of Yamaguchi.

Fugu

Known across the world for its prized and occasionally poisonous meat, this blow fish is a national treasure of Japan. I was lucky to find a young boy fishing for them at the harbour. This was one of the smaller amongst his finds.

Aosagi (Grey Heron)

These regal birds are everywhere in the countryside, and have recently become something of a nuisance with their incessant nightly honking. They are one of the most impressive birds to see soaring above the sleepy streets of Yanai.



Kani (Ruddy big crab)

There are thousands of different crabs scurrying about the beaches and river banks of Japan, but this monster is by far the largest I’ve come across so far. Sitting with an air of melancholy by a drainage canal, this chap was about twenty centimetres across.

Kurage (Jellyfish)

One of the most curiously beautiful of Mother Nature’s creations is most certainly the jellyfish; a creature that is despised for its toxicity, and yet admired for its vast array of intricately coloured varieties. In Japan, there are three well-known types; the giant Nomura, reaching over six feet in diameter, the little white ones which (as seems to be the fashion with anything unappetising in this neck of the woods) is often eaten, and then this chap, who is rather dangerous. Fun times.

Hitode (Starfish)

It’s always a tragedy coming across a starfish laying stranded on the beach, and for the most part, I try to return the dear fellows back to their home. However, with so many finding themselves marooned, I’m often reminded of that old parable… “Made a difference to that one…”

Funamushi (Wharf Roach)

Exploring rock pools along the Yanai beaches really is somewhat akin to being in an Indiana Jones movie, with seas of these ocean-dwelling woodlice undulating below foot. Some grow to about two inches long, so they are certainly a little more daunting to your BBQ fun than a couple of ants!

Submitted for the Approval of the Midnight Society...

The Subtitle Challenge has gone on a short hiatus after a ridiculously busy weekend, so today, instead, I bring you a nugget of classic kids’ TV gold…

Are You Afraid of the Dark?
(1990-2000)

4 Stars

Long before R.L. Stine conquered both children’s bookshelves and FOX Kids with his monthly tales of creepiness Goosebumps, the Canadian TV network YTV pioneered the children’s horror anthology concept with the frighteningly good Are You Afraid of the Dark?, a show which not only spooked youngsters on a weekly basis, but also launched the careers of many now famous faces, as well as inspiring directors such as M. Night Shyamalan.

Of course, looking back on childhood favourites is always a dangerous thing; if you watch Inspector Gadget now, it’s a poorly animated naff-fest, whilst the gripping supernatural game-show Knightmare is… Well… The less said the better really.

However, some shows really do stand the test of time. Watching, for example, the tragically short-lived Eerie, Indiana, one finds that it is actually BETTER as an adult, having missed out on so many subtleties and intelligences in the script as a kid.

Fortunately, having sat through the first two seasons of Are You Afraid of the Dark? over the last few weeks (a compliment in itself – usually if something “nostalgic” turns out to suck, I’d rather switch it off and maintain my memory. See the aforementioned Goosebumps for more information…), I have discovered a veritable cavalcade of ingenious stories, some of which really are quite creepy.

Following in the footsteps of predecessors The Twilight Zone and Tales From the Crypt, Are You Afraid of the Dark? aimed itself at a much younger audience, set around the premise of kids (the now famous “Midnight Society”) telling ghost stories around a campfire. The storytellers (each portrayed with genuine wit by the young actors) never feature in the tales, thus giving a fresh and individual aura to each episode.

Naturally, being a kids’ show, the storytelling is, on occasion, simplistic, and the acting by some of the “stars” of the weekly stories is rather wishy-washy, but, for the most part, there is a delightful originality to some otherwise familiar yarns (many of which are indeed concepts from The Twilight Zone toned down somewhat for younger viewers), and the young actors generally deliver a pretty good show.

Nostalgia is a wonderful thing, and occasionally it seems that my childhood self actually had quite good taste. Having contemplated Mini Boglins and Monster in my Pocket recently, it’s something of a relief…