The World (2004)

From Chinese independent director Jia Zhangke, The World doesn’t have what could be considered a traditional plot. Instead the film provides an inside look into the connected lives of several employees working at an amusement park something like the Epcot Center in Disney World; there are replicas of many famous landmarks representing various countries so that people can “see the world without leaving Beijing!” through these various character interactions the audience gets an inside look into the minds of these workers dealing with many hardships and dealing with life and love as well as reflecting modernization and globalization in a society that may not be ready for it.

There is a scene early on in the film which mainly gives several establishing shots of the park; there’s a shot of security guards walking past the small pyramids of Egypt and the Eiffel tower and finally a look at the park from an extreme long shot. It is here in the foreground we can see a homeless man walking around amidst garbage. This sets the tone for the rest of the film. The park maintains this feeling of something gaudy and artificial. All the employees who are “lucky” to work there have problems such as (in the case of the immigrant Russian woman) having to become prostitutes, having complicated romantic relationships, getting involved in illegal activities and the list goes on. The film shows this contrast between the real world outside the park and the image of the park itself effectively through Jia Zhangke’s direction. The film is shot in a realistic way utilizing frequent long takes and long shots. It feels so natural that at times it often resembles documentary footage, making many of the situations that the characters get involved in more uncomfortable and fascinating.

The film also has a talented cast that is capable of delivering dialogue in a seemingly effortless way. The conversations are very natural and maintain a realistic quality; there is not one line of dialogue that feels rehearsed. There are a few exceptions to this realism however, and these are found in the animated sequences. Usually used when the two main characters, Tao (Tao Zhao) and her boyfriend Taisheng (Taisheng Chen), are texting each other, these sequences add to the feeling of the world around the characters being fake, artificial, and intangible. The sequences are vividly colorful and at first surprising. Soon however, they make sense in terms of the environment. Are the animated sequences any less fake than the commercial setting of the park? There is a scene in which Taisheng shows the model replica of New York City to a friend. He happily explains that in 2001 the Twin Towers were destroyed but in the park they are still there. The choice in using animated sequences was reminiscent of another of Jia Zhangke’s films, Still Life. There are scenes in Still Life in which as a town is being taken down piece by piece (due to the construction of the Three Gorges Dam), in the background a building might suddenly take off like a rocket ship. These instances are never explained and like the animation used in The World, it is no less absurd or artificial than the environment around the main characters. It is a fascinating and moving film and the ending will leave anyone thinking about it for some time.

A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Based on the American version of the Anthony Burgess novel of the same name, Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange follows a young Alexander DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) as he and his friends (or Droogs in the film’s slang) get into gang fights and harm innocent people through rape and torture. Alex enjoys these crimes to the extent that during a break in and as he prepares to rape a helpless man’s wife, he joyfully bursts out singing “Singing in the Rain.” Formally made famous by Gene Kelly, after Alex sings it, it is impossible to listen to that song in the same way again.

How is it possible that this is the protagonist of the film? Thanks to Malcolm McDowell’s charismatic performance it is not only possible to watch this character as he performs unspeakable acts of “Ultraviolence,” but by the end of the film you, in spite of yourself, find that you root for him as well. The films follows a pretty straightforward structure and can be separated into three distinguishable acts: in the first act, Alex and his friends go about harming innocent people; in the second act, Alex is arrested and goes through his treatment while in the third act, Alex is punished for everything that he did in the first. The film’s comfortable pace and easy to follow structure are a big part of what makes this film accessible to an audience. The rest must be credited to Kubrick's direction and Malcolm McDowell. Kubrick keeps Alex as the focus of nearly every shot. He is always front and center and the world seems to literally revolve around him; the audience has no choice but to see the world through his twisted eyes. Malcolm McDowell makes Alex, who would be little more than a sadistic rapist, a likable character. Through his narration he charms the audience into being on his side, regardless of the situation. Even when he is getting what he deserves, he makes you sympathize with him. He’s likable and charming as well as being a monstrously evil person. This contrast make him so fascinating that you can’t help but watch his every action, literally hanging on his every word. Teamed with Kubrick's visuals and style, it is truly one of the most memorable performances onscreen and one of the greatest villains in cinema history.

Aside from the acting, the film itself is nothing short of a masterpiece with Kubrick’s direction. Through its colorful language, music, and its indistinguishable time setting, it is an ageless classic with some incredibly influential and powerful scenes. Right from the opening the audience gets a sense of the world that has been created for the film. The opening is a close up of Alex’s face as he stares, unblinking, back at the camera. Then the camera slowly pulls back as his Droogs are revealed to be sitting next to him, also unmoving. As the camera pulls back even farther the milk bar is revealed as one of the most visually strange sets in the film. There are statues of naked women and people standing and sitting all around, unmoving. Everything appears to have grown out of Alex, who stays framed in the center of the shot. It is an incredible introduction that, along with the narration, introduces the film to its audience. There is another scene in which Alex and his Droogs are walking along a walkway towards the camera in slow motion (a similar sequence can be seen during the opening credits of Reservoir Dogs). During the sequence, the narration is explaining Alex’s thoughts as “The Thieving Magpie” is playing in the background as the score. Then during the narration, Alex explains that he hears this music through an open window where the stereo is on. This then makes the music which is in real time part of the scene which is in slow motion. This contrast tricks the senses a well as one’s perception of the entire scene, making it even more fascinating to watch. The music throughout the film is mostly Beethoven and other famous classical pieces and it is often synthesized giving it a strange and distinct feel that suits the tone of the film. It is an important film that everyone should manage to see at least once as it challenges the notion of good and evil as well as whether or not it even matters if one cannot choose. Because after all, if one cannot choose to be either good or evil, than he ceases to be human and is then nothing more than a clockwork orange.

Delicatessen (1991)

Directed by Marc Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet (The City of Lost Children), Delicatessen is the story if a run down apartment building in a post apocalyptic France where the world is a wasteland and currency is replaced with grains, corn, and beans. Clapet, the butcher (played by Jean-Claude Dreyfus), rules over the building with his knives and butchers people to which he then serves to the tenants (imagine Sweeney Todd but if the people he was serving people to were very aware of what they were eating). This system seems to work for these people until an ex-clown performer named Louison (Dominique Pinon) begins to work there doing odd-jobs after reading an add in the paper that Clapet made in order to lure people into the building so they can become food for the tenants. The Butcher’s daughter, Julie Clapet (Marie-Laure Dougnac), falls in love with him and must then attempt to save his life while betraying her father and neighbors.

The cast is filled with colorful characters, all of whom are distinctly different from the next. They all seem to have their own obsessions and issues (aside from cannibalism). The outside world is never shown and the only contact the viewer gets is from the evil mailman (Chick Ortega) who at times reports on what is happening out there to Clapet (it’s usually not much worse from what goes on inside the apartment building). To make up for the lack of an outside world, the apartment building is extremely varied and insane; on one floor the color scheme is green and a man lives with an army of frogs and snails, while on Julie’s floor, the world is a deep red and very clean. Every room has its own distinct feel keeping the film consistently surreal. There's almost an overabundance of small objects in this film (the opening credits serve as preparation for the rest of the film) that requires multiple viewings to fully take in everything on screen. Some of the rooms are so cluttered with debris and trinkets that it is easy to become completely engrossed in the visuals. Like in The City of Lost Children which created its own unique world, the apartment building in this film matches that city in terms of details and atmosphere. The way sound is used in this film is particularly worthy of mention; there is a scene in which Clapet begins to have sex with his girlfriend (Karin Viard). All that can be seen are the bed springs squeaking as the bed bounces up and down. The camera then goes to every character in the building as they subconsciously begin to keep in rhythm with the squeaking while performing their own unique tasks. The result is an odd orchestra of sounds and visuals that are as captivating as they are amusing. There is another scene in which Louison and Julie play a duet using a cello and a saw. It’s a romantic scene and at the same time it is also quite humorous. Despite having an incredibly disturbing subject matter, there is very little blood in this film. All the butchering takes place off-screen and there is more focus on characters and scenery. The tone in this film is more than enough to establish a feeling of horror and fascination without being exploitative. The film is well acted, well directed and very memorable.

Sanjuro (1962)

Sanjuro is the sequel to Yojimbo; a film about a wandering ronin in a time when the samurai are in rapid decline. Toshirō Mifune (Stray Dog, Seven Samurai) reprises his role as the disheveled but good hearted wanderer. The story is of the nameless ronin, calling himself Sanjuro, running into nine members of a clan whose chamberlain is being framed for a crime which he did not commit by the corrupt superintendent. He protects them from a would-be ambush and after seeing their good intentions but complete incompetence; he decides to aid them in saving the elder.

Right off the bat this film distinguishes itself from its predecessor by being more action packed and lighter in tone. Toshirō Mifune displays an incredible comedic range as Sanjuro through his interactions with the nine men who can’t seem to get anything right. Through his sarcastic comments and often hilarious facial expressions, his annoyance and amusement at their antics are considerably enjoyable to watch. There is also a moral center as the film questions the violence that Sanjuro deals to others and Sanjuro himself seems to be depressed with the notion that he is an “unsheathed sword”; only used for killing. The action has been noticabley increased in this film. Early on, the audience gets a sense of just how skilled a warrior Sanjuro is as he defends a small shack from an onslaught of opponents by himself and using only a sheathed sword. Akira Kurosawa films all of these incredible action sequences with as few takes as possible, making them fast, brutal, and memorable. Each fight leaves the audience in awe. There is no slow motion or close ups of any kind to enhance the action. Instead, the audience serves as a witness to a man fighting any number of opponents single-handed and it looks and feels real. The final showdown between Sanjuro and Muroto (brilliantly played by Tatsuya Nakadai who also played the villainous gunslinger from Yojimbo) marks one of the most intense and alarmingly gory duals in any samurai film; there is really no other scene quit like it. The camera work is impressive and keeps the film feeling very modern, like many of Kurosawa’s films. There are some impressive crane shots that feel so natural and seamless that it is often hard to notice just how good they really are. There is one sequence in particular in which the camera tilts down away from a man and focuses on a flower. In the same take, the camera tracks the flower as it falls from the tree and into the stream which it then drifts down. No string is visible on this flower and despite how simple this sequence sounds; if it were done today the flower would no doubt be animated. Apparently it was done with nylon from a women’s stocking since piano wire would catch the light and possibly show up on camera. With every detail so meticulously planned out, this is an incredibly entertaining and well made film that is a more than worthy sequel to a classic film.

In the Heat of the Sun (1994)

In the Heat of the Sun deserves a brief explanation. This film is incredible difficult to find in the United States (if it can even be found). In fact, the version that I viewed was a fan-subtitled copy that had been burned onto a DVD. The film was originally released in 1994 and shown at the Venice Film Festival as well as the Golden Horse Film Festival. Then it was banned in China as well as resulting in Jiang Wen being banned from directing another film for years. It might be possible to find it on DVD in South Korea or maybe Japan, but likely without English subtitles. It was so controversial because of it’s depiction of the Cultural Revolution. For those unfamiliar, the Cultural Revolution was a period from the mid-sixties to seventies in China in which there was political upheaval led by Chairman Mao Zedong. It’s remembered by many as a dark and violent period in history. In the film however, it is depicted as the setting for a coming of age tale about a teen during a summer. The film marks the directorial debut of Jiang Wen, an actor who has been described as “China’s Marlon Brando.” It is hard to believe that this could be anyone’s first film after watching it; it seems to be directed by a master of the art. There are some incredible sequences that display not only Jiang Wen’s understanding of China’s history, but of the history of China’s cinema was well. There are so many references that could only be understood by one who also grew up in the times depicted in the film; there are references to films such as Lenin in 1918, which is a Soviet propaganda film that was apart of the limited film library that China allowed to be dubbed and shown to the people at the time.

Based on Wang’s Huo’s novel “Wild Beast” (one of his “hooligan novels;” stories in which the hero was something of a young thug), the story is of a teenager named Ma Xiaojun (Yu Xia), or "Monkey" as he is called by his friends, growing up during the Cultural Revolution. During the course of the summer he falls in love with an alluring older girl named Mi Lan (Jing Ning). As part of a small gang, he experiences love and violence along with living in a time in which the country is in chaos. Being too young to be forced into military, he and his friends experience a certain freedom in their town; to them, they run it. The main character is likable and interesting to watch. Yu Xia proves to be a talented young actor who makes his character relatable and sympathetic despite some of his actions over the course of the film. It is this character in the future who narrates the story and this represents one of the more intriguing aspects of the film. At the very beginning, as well as at a few other scenes, the narrator explains that everything is so different from when he was growing up; it is unrecognizable. These changes make the past seem so far away that he often has trouble recalling whether or not any of what he says to the audience is true at all. Yet he continues telling the story, knowing full well that everything he says may not be true. There is one particularly memorable scene in which the story itself actually breaks down because the narrator is unable to continue under the weight of all the potential falsehoods.

The entire film maintains a dream-like commentary on the period from a Post-Mao point of view through its imagery and soundtrack. Chairman Mao, though not depicted in person in the film, is apart of many scenes through his images in the background that are everywhere, revealing just how much apart of the day to day life he was. It is often used with great irony such as during a scene showing the large meeting of the gang members under a giant, brightly colored mural of Mao’ s head. There are enough details and references that it is possible to notice something new after every viewing. If a chance to see this film presents itself, it is a must see.