My goal: to see 100 movies in 2010

The results for past year movie challenges: 2009 (88 films); 2008 (85); 2007 (90); 2006 (95); 2005 (97); 2004 (115); and 2003 (86).

Return to “Sayonara Amerika, Sayonara Nippon” homepage

15). Natsukashii Furaibô 「なつかしい風来坊」(Lovable drifter; 1966; dir. Yamada Yôji). Above-average entry from the 1960s salaryman comedy genre. Here Yamada lays down the template for what in a few years will develop into the Tora-san series. In fact, the love interest is played by none other than Baishô Chieko, who would go on to serve as Tora-san’s long-suffering sister. A repressed salaryman (Arishima Ichirô) finds his life entangled with that of an unpredictable scamp (Hana Hajime), with chaotic results. The film features mickey-mouseing and other kinds of wacky sound effects throughout. (2/26/10 on DVD).

14). Anvil! The Story of Anvil (2008; dir. Sacha Gervasi). Almost too good to be true, the most remarkable thing about this documentary is how much you begin to really like and care for the hapless heavy metal heroes who are at its focus. Human obsessions never lose their fascination, after all. (2/20/10 on DVD).

13). Y tu mamá también (2001; dir. Alfonso Cuarón). I watched this again in preparation for teaching in a class on travel literature from around the world. I was struck this time by the extensive use of water imagery throughout (lots of underwater shots); the extensive use of handheld cameras giving the whole thing a jerky, energetic feel; and once again by the remarkable performances by the actors in the three leading roles. I was also reminded of how remarkably refreshing it is to see historical, economic, and political factors explicitly raised in a film. (2/13/10 on DVD).

12). (500) Days of Summer (2009; dir. Marc Webb). Charming and quirky deconstruction of boy-meets-girl romantic comedy genre, and some of the most intelligent use of pop music I’ve seen in recent film. Art here mirrors real life, in that the film’s narrative parallels my own relationship with Zooey Deschanel: I’m in love with her and she doesn’t know I exist. Sigh. (2/12/10 on DVD).

11). I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! (1968, dir. Hy Averback). Not as painfully boxy as most 1960s Hollywood versions of hippie counterculture, though still pretty stiff-necked, this one features a transcendent performance by Peter Sellers as a repressed lawyer who tries to become “hip.” His speech patterns, his body language, his facial expressions are nothing short of brilliant: he manages at one point to turn a simple walk along the beach into a comic tour de force. The Elmer Bernstein soundtrack, however, is awfully square, man, even with the sitars. Leigh Taylor-Young, on the other hand, charms the audience in her role as the flower child for whom Sellers throws away everything. (2/5/10 on Netflix On-Line Streaming).

10). Salaryman Yaji Kita Dôchû 「サラリーマン弥次喜多道中」(Salaryman Yaji and Kita on the road; 1961; dir. Aoyagi Nobuo). Fluffy comedy in the Salaryman genre, this one grounds itself in Ikku Jippensha’s early 19^th century comic novel Shanks Mare on the Tôkaidô. The bumbling Yaji and Kita are updated to salarymen employed by an agricultural implements firm, sent out on a sales trip along the Tôkaidô road. Along the way they encounter booze, women, and all sorts of misadventures. Lots of nifty location shots of driving down roads in 1961 Tokyo and other parts of Japan. The soundtrack is also something of a road trip, in that it is all over the place in terms of styles and eras. (2/4/10 on DVD).

9). Petition (2009; dir. Zhao Liang). Brutal and compelling documentary that follows the travails of petitioners who flock to the official appeal offices of the Chinese government despite the utterly hopeless nature of the process and despite the legal and patently illegal measures used to discourage them. Zhao’s camera obsessively follows several of the petitioners and their obsessions over a period of ten years, and as he depicts the violence they face he also at times makes us uncomfortably aware of the violent intrusiveness of his camera into their lives. He captures some amazing footage and edits it together into a remarkably effective form, and he pulls no punches in depicting his subjects’ disgust with the corruption of the Chinese state. (1/31/10 at University of Chicago Film and Media Studies Center).

8). Cityscape (2004; dir. Zhao Liang). Absorbing short-film documentary, 18 minutes of footage from urban settings in China that capture the strange feel of city life, where inexplicable acts of violence and desire flare up around you. The voyeuristic thrills of anonymous urban space becomes both the theme and the form of the work. (1/31/10 at University of Chicago Film and Media Studies Center).

7). Passing Strange: The Movie (2009; dir. Spike Lee). As a longtime fan of the musician Stew, I was prepared to like this film, which records the final Broadway performance of his Tony Award winning musical. But I wasn’t fully prepared for how powerful the experience was. It had me in tears more than once–that is, when I wasn’t laughing or tapping my foot in time to the music. It’s a Portrait-of-the-Artist-as-a-Young-Man narrative combined with an electrifying rock show: Stew, his longtime collaborator Heidi Rodewald, and band are on stage the whole time, frequently interacting with the actors. The cast is astonishingly good. Many of the players take up multiple roles during the course of the evening, and it is sheer pleasure to watch them inhabit the bodies of radically different sorts of characters. Through it all, Stew serves as the avuncular narrator, stepping up to centerstage whenever the need arises for a rock-and-roll explosion. Spike Lee’s direction is lean but creative: he even gets a cast member to carry a video camera on stage to film one sequence (watch the Special Features section on the DVD for more about this). I hate to set you up with excessive expectations that no movie could ever satisfy; undoubtedly, the best way to encounter this would be to stumble across it unexpectedly and be blown away. But I’d hate for anyone to miss this one: do yourself a favor and watch the thing. It’s a work of art, and to paraphrase Stew, life is full of mistakes, but art is where we go to correct them. (1/28/10 on DVD).

6). O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000; dir. Joel Coen). Watched this one again after a number of years in preparation for teaching it. It remains a terrific comedy full of quirks and tics, like all of the Coen brothers’ films. Has George Clooney ever topped his performance here? He’s really a movie star in the Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart vein in this. I’ve seen Sullivan’s Travels since the first time I watched this, so my eyes were opened to a whole new layer of allusions. (1/23/10 on DVD).

5). Thank You for Smoking (2005; dir. Jason Reitman). Brilliant cast in a sharp comedy, one in which we learn to love the enemy (evil tobacco lobbyist) but also to recognize his tricks. Given the Supreme Court’s decision on the day I watched this basically abolishing all limits on corporate political contributions, we could use a lot more films like this one. In that sense, the film has more than a little relation to Frank Capra (which it is only too happy to announce with its Jimmy Steward allusions). Nice use of old honkytonk music, too. (1/21/10 on DVD).

4). Meet Me in St. Louis (1944, dir. Vincente Minnelli). The classic musical, which I’d somehow missed seeing up until now. Judy Garland is resplendent, of course, and because of her subsequent connection to Misora Hibari I was particularly interested in seeing Margaret O’Brien’s scene-stealing performance. A lovely balance between sentiment and comedy; there’s a lovely sequence when, after a quarrel, the family reassembles one-by-one to eat cake: it hits exactly the right tone. It’s all based on a series of short stories by Sally Benson that were published in the New Yorker in early 1942; I think I’ll dig those out for a look. (1/16/10 taped from TCM network)

3). Bell, Book and Candle (1958, dir. Richard Quine). Basically a slightly more sophisticated version of the television series Bewitched, romantic comedy between witches and ordinary mortals in uber-urbane Manhattan. The Jimmy Stewart-Kim Novak duo from Vertigo is reprised, and they are joined by an impossibly young Jack Lemmon (who plays the bongo drums to fit Hollywood’s image of New York beatnik culture) and Ernie Kovacs in a nice, understated turn as an alcoholic author. Philippe Clay gets to perform a fairly interesting musical number. (1/14/10 taped from TCM network).

2). Kuro no tesuto kaa 『黒の試走車』(Black test car; 1962; dir. Masumura Yasuzô). Hardboiled tale of industrial espionage with a strong dose of social critique: every aspect of contemporary Japanese society—the family, romantic relations, the press, business, and friendship—are portrayed as corrupt. At several key moments, we see the taint of wartime imperialism and militarism staining the present. Dark soundtrack music and bleak settings help build up the portrait, as do repeated shots of assembly line machinery in action, reminding us that the characters we are watching have been reduced to the status of being cogs in an ugly, brutal machine. The first title in the Daiei studio’s “Kuro no…” series. (1/10/10 on DVD).

1). Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002, dir. Peter Jackson). OK, so maybe there is some sort of postcolonial subtext going on. Is Gollum a Hegelian or not? And which of the lousy rulers represents GW Bush? (1/1/10 on DVD).

The results for past year movie challenges: 2009 (88 films); 2008 (85); 2007 (90); 2006 (95); 2005 (97); 2004 (115); and 2003 (86).

Return to “Sayonara Amerika, Sayonara Nippon” homepage