The sequel to Once Upon a Time in China begins with Wong Fei-Hung (Jet Li) traveling to Canto with Aunt 13 (Rosamund Kwan) and Leung Foon (now played by Si Chung Mok), who was made his newest disciple at the end of the first film, in order to attend a seminar on Western and Eastern medicinal practices. This comparison between the different approaches to medicine is something that comes up repeatedly throughout the film, making for some compelling scenes. At one point, the two styles of practice are fused in order to save someone’s life.
It's at the seminar where he meets and befriends Dr. Sun Yat-sen (Zhang Tielin), who historically is the founder of the Republic of China. The addition of this character into the story makes the theme of nationalism much more explicit, at times even heavy handed, but doesn’t detract from the often light-hearted tone. The city of Canto proves to be a place full of turmoil however, as there's a fanatical cult called the White Lotus, the members of which are obsessed with ridding the country of the foreign presence. The introduction of this cult is what opens the film, even before the opening credits. The leader of the White Lotus, a priest named Kung (Xin Xin Xiong), claims to be bullet-proof. They display their hatred of all things Western by burning furniture, art, and even a Dalmatian (you know they’re evil when they accomplish what Cruella de Vil could not). This particular belief, as well as the goals of the cult, bare striking resemblances to the Yihequan, or the “Boxers” of the Boxer Rebellion; a violent rebellion between 1898 and 1901. The government officials, while mostly useless in the first film, are now depicted as antagonists to Wong Fei-hung. They take little to no action against the increasingly violent demonstrations of the White Lotus and devote their resources to hunting down members of the rebellion, namely Dr. Sun Yat-sen and his associate, Luke Ho-tung (David Chiang).
This time around, the plot is much simpler and more straightforward to follow. The White Lotus is a constant presence and shown to be linked to Commander Nap-Lan (played by action star Donnie Yen) early on. Jet Li is once again simply an incredible performer. His portrayal of Wong Fei-hung is a very likable and heroic character, but not in a way that makes him unrelatable. The way he interacts with a character like Aunt 13 is almost as fun to watch as the way he interacts with his enemies. Their would-be romance is still strained due to the awkward nature of their relation (in terms of titles), but there's a major development in this film that pushes them closer together, aside from the jealously that arises from Foon’s infatuation with her. They share a great scene in which he attempts to show her basic martial arts moves and struggles with how he should teach her, due to the physical nature and closeness of such teachings. Neither of the central villains, being Commander Nap-Lan and the insane Kung, is quite as colorful as those in the first. Kung is only shown in two scenes, the introductory scene and the duel with Wong Fei-hung. Nothing is ever revealed about who he is. Instead, the real effects of his threat level are revealed in the form of his maniacal and overzealous followers. Commander Nap-Lan on the other hand, is much more developed and does not begin as an enemy. His first meeting with Wong Fei-hung is a friendly duel in order to test out his skill (the duel is a lightning fast staff battle). Wong Fei-hung is someone he respects, but when circumstances place them at odds with each other, they get into a vicious battle over different ideals.
Jet Li vs Donnie Yen
While the acting is solid from all the main characters, what needs to be mentioned are the fight sequences. Once again, Tsui Hark films some brilliant fights. Although none quite match the ladder duel of the first film, there are some close contenders. Wong Fei-hung’s battle with the White Lotus is particularly memorable. It begins with Jet li single handedly fighting dozens of people at once, leading up to the inevitable duel with their leader. In this duel Kung has to fight to prove his god-like nature, so the entire fight is spent trying to keep from touching the ground. They do this by erecting a group of tables into a make shift “shrine” and attempt to keep them standing while simultaneously breaking them apart (and also defying the laws of physics and gravity). Something that also needs to be said is that this film has some unbelievable sets and set design. Tsui Hark loves to emphasize the big budget and spectacle of an epic film like this, so much time is spent showing off the locales and seemingly hundreds of extras (the market place is one particularly common set). The detail that goes into every set is extensive, but you accept that these are real places where real people live and work. The set for the final climactic duel between Wong Fei-hung and Commander Nap-Lan is amongst a multilevel rice storage area crammed full of bamboo poles, jutting out in all directions, just begging to be used as weapons. We also get to see the Commander’s skill turn a wet rag into a lethal weapon, capable of punching holes through a brick wall. This fight, as well as their earlier encounter, is a major highlight of this film, showcasing two unbelievably talented martial artists at the top of their game.
Overall, I prefer the hectic nature of the first film with its army of villains and variety of heroes, but Once Upon a Time in China II is at least as strong of a marital arts epic and a worthy sequel.
There is a common criticism that has been going around in the past several years used by even the most famous critics to describe a film in a negative way, and that is “this movie’s like a video game” or “then it just becomes a video game.” Even famed film critic Roger Ebert himself has used this analogy to describe something wrong with a film when he has also gone on record stating that he has little experience playing video games. So where does this comment come from? With video games becoming more sophisticated everyday, is this even a fair criticism? In fact, what does it even mean to compare a video game to a film? Interestingly, a game being compared to a film is considered high praise. There have been movie adaptations of games and game adaptations of movies since the invention of video games themselves. In Anne Friedburg’s essay entitled, The End of Cinema: Multimedia and Technological Change, she discusses different technological mediums that have in someway affected cinema. One of the key concepts discussed is that “the differences between the media of movies, television, and computers are rapidly diminishing” (Friedburg, 802). She includes the VCR, remote control, and cable television but she does not however, include the video game system in her discussion. This is a mistake as I would argue that the video game is its own visual medium and it and cinema are and have been linked in various ways, influencing each other back and forth over years in both concept and style to the point where video games are becoming a new form of visual entertainment whose goal is to be taken seriously like the cinema.
The criticism of comparing a film (usually a bad one) to a video game is common place. Films like 300 (2006), Crank (2006), The Matrix films, TMNT (2007), and Terminator Salvation (2009) are among the many examples. There are a few things that all these films have in common and they are a reliance on special effects and big action sequences. In his review of The Matrix Revolutions (2003), Roger Ebert states, “…while my concern about Neo has been jerked around by so many layers of whether he's real or not, and whether he's really doing what he seems to be doing, that finally I measure my concern for him not in affection but more like the score in a video game.[1]” Jeff Bayer’s review of Shoot’em Up (2007) describes the film as, “more like a video game with the 'invincible' level turned on.[2]” Purple from Movie Magazine International described TMNT by stating, “…the movie feels like a video game in action, and you almost wish you could play the movie instead of watching it.[3]”
Gameplay from Killer 7
These criticisms are the basic outline for the argument comparing movies to games as a negative aspect of the film. If the film has characters that are bland and are involved in heavy special effects action (usually bordering on the ludicrous) that has little substance, then the film feels like a video game. This is an interesting point, and it’s not completely unfounded either. There are games like Gears of War, where the hero is a linebacker-sized, armor-wearing, chainsaw-bayonet wielding shooter who seems to be trapped in Michael Bay film, and several of the Grand Theft Auto games (famous for introducing prostitute killing in video games) that are probably the most responsible for this reputation due to their high publicity and sales. This is an unfair criticism however, and I would argue that it’s completely undeserving since there are a considerable number of games that value their story and production values over gratuitous action.
In a few cases, the games’ style and structure takes precedence over the action itself. Killer 7 (2005) is a game with a highly stylized and complex storyline that also includes a set camera angle for when the player is in control of their characters. This fixed camera setting forces the player to see the entire game from the director’s (in this instance, Suda 51’s) chosen angles, making every scene play out visually the way he intended it. This particular instance is what some game designers have considered the closest mainstream video games have come to resembling art. Roger Ebert once said, "There is a structural reason for that: video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control.[4]"This may be true, but it is easy to see why, by that definition, a game like Killer 7 comes close to challenging it. I would also argue that the video game comparison very much applies to film, but not as a negative aspect. It is more of a story and visual concept. For example, in The Matrix (1999), the heroes of the film, while in the real world, would literally plug themselves into the matrix and then become represented by virtual avatars that act for them, as them, in a virtual world. This is essentially what a video game is. The system is hooked up and the player then controls their specific character. This same comparison could be made for Avatar (2009) as well, substituting the virtual avatar for a giant blue alien one. In more recent games, as technology becomes more sophisticated, the player can design and alter their avatar’s appearance to resemble themselves or whoever they choose. The Matrix is very much a video game film. The very concept that the entire story is based upon serves as a representation for the video game system. This kind of system is also used in other films like The City of Lost Children in which the heroine plugs herself into a dream machine in order to save a little boy. Her body remains in the real world, but her mind in now in the machine, functioning in body that is meant to be her. This is also similar to the DC Mini device used in Paprika(2006) in which the character uses it to enter a person’s dreams and manipulate the environment around them, much like Neo in The Matrix. The most explicit example can be found in the film eXistenZ, where the characters are literally plugging themselves into a video game. InThe Beach (2000), right before entering into a bizarre hallucination sequence, Richard (Leonardo Dicaprio), describes the situation as “playing his own game” and he can do whatever he wants. Following this proclamation, the scene turns into a representation of an old-style video game, complete with points and a game over screen. This scene does imply what is the defining aspect of the video game, and that is the idea that the player is in control, unlike in a film. This is one of the biggest problems with a film being like a video game. The film–video game criticism only takes into account the action that video games include and an assumption of a lack of substance, while the video game itself is interactive; which is a strong dividing line between the two as visual mediums.
Since the creation of the video game it has been linked with cinema in many ways; none more obvious than the adaptation. This is a relationship that goes both ways. When a film is commercially marketable, then part of its marketing campaign is to have a video game release to go along with it. This has been true since the 1980s with games released like E.T. (which is notorious among the gaming community as one of the worst games of all time), Star Wars, Terminator, Jaws, and others. This is true for film as well, as when a video game gets really popular it can also receive a film adaptation. There is one thing that these adaptations tend to have in common, and that is awful reviews. With video games, there seems to be a genuine excuse for why they are, more often than not, terrible. And that is that they’re usually assigned a very strict release date in order to coincide with the film. The best example of this is a game called Enter the Matrix (2003). This game was set to be released on the day that The Matrix Reloaded (2003) was released in theaters. Anyone who played it will notice right away one major flaw: the game was never finished. It is full of poorly animated backgrounds and ugly character models that were clearly not done being designed. The game was written by the Wachowski brothers as a companion to the film as it even included fully acted, live-action scenes in which the actors from the film performed as their characters. The game was forced into a release date that the programmers and animators could not work fast enough to finish in time for. This is a typical problem for most movie licensed games.
The limits of the cutscenes themselves have been pushed with the advancing of video game technology to the point that they are becoming an aspect of the game itself. Instead of playing the action scenes in the game and watching the story like it were an actual film, now it has become more popular to incorporate the cutscenes into gameplay, which pushes the video game storyline into an interactive medium unlike any before. This is what has drastically separated the two mediums to the point that video games are now becoming something interactive and visually engaging on a different scale. In Yu Suzuki’s Shenmue (1999) he introduced the concept of the QTE (Quick Time Event). The QTE is basically a flashing button that will be displayed on screen during various cutscenes. For example, in a scene where the main character is chasing a criminal through the streets, the criminal might knock over boxes in an attempt to slow down the hero. As the hero approaches these boxes, and this is a cutscene so the player has no control over the hero, a button image matching one on the controller will flash onscreen and the player will have a limited time to press it. If it is pressed, then the hero jumps over the boxes. If it isn’t pressed in time or the wrong button is pressed, then the hero trips and the entire scene changes. The QTE gave the player control over the cinematic aspect of the game and the QTE has been very influential in the more cinematic, story driven action adventure games. Other games that have made innovations in order to feel more like films include the Mass Effect series which made different innovations where the player now has control over what their character says in any scene. That kind of interaction gives the player a feeling of complete immersion and they feel that they are truly in control of the game’s story. Indigo Prophecy (2005), and more recently Heavy Rain (2010), developed by Quantic Dream is unique case because the game doesn’t even refer to itself as a video game. In the instruction manual and in the games optional tutorial, the games’ creator calls the game an “interactive movie.” The game, like Mass Effect, gives the player control over the character’s verbal engagements as well as incorporating a different kind of QTE for many of the action scenes. The result is a game that places more value on its visual style and storytelling capabilities than it does on player controlled gameplay like most video games. In some aspects it is very similar to games like Killer 7 which force the player to notice the director’s choices in how the game should look and feel.
The criticism of a film being like a video game is an unfair one with its roots based on the commercial value of the bland action shooter genre. The goal of the story driven video game has always been to match that of the film in terms of quality and emotional response. In their quest they have achieved a new form of interactivity that has created a type of video game cinematic experience that can best be described as an interactive movie. Through years of live action video game adaptations in film, the cinema has shown what little respect it has for the video game while the video game adaptation of film has suffered various problems that keep those games from being enjoyed. There is an undeniable link between the two mediums. When The Matrix came out and introduced the world to a “bullet time” concept some thought was like a video game, despite the fact that no video game at the time utilized slow motion in such a way. It was only later that it became introduced in a game called Max Payne (2001) which cites direct influence from The Matrix and is now a critically despised film. The same can be said for 300, a film criticized for its resemblance to video games,which is the influence for a new game coming out (no existing game quite resembles the style of 300) called Gladiator A.D. whose creators cite 300 as the inspiration for the games’ style. It is interesting how the films that resemble video games are based on video games that haven’t come out yet. This cycle will no doubt continue as it would seem that films resembling video games would make a good video game. Perhaps the criticism should be changed to “this film might make a good video game”.
Charlotte Brontë’s novel, Jane Eyre, has been adapted to the screen numerous times to varying degrees of success. Director Cary Fukunaga’s take on the story is very true to the source material, but with an added sense of passion and desire exhibited from the central characters. Jane Eyre is played by Mia Wasikowska (ofAlice and Wonderland fame) and she's very good here, practically carrying the entire film; not one scene is shown outside of her point-of-view. She gives a subtle and nuanced performance, underplaying her emotions, leaving much of what she's feeling to what we as the audience know must be happening beneath the surface. Michael Fassbender gives an endearing portrayal of Edward Rochester, though his interpretation of the character feels at times less eccentric than some previous performances. The supporting cast is terrific as well, featuring strong acting from the child actors and especially Sally Hawkins as the malicious Aunt, Mrs. Reed, and Judi Dench as the housekeeper, Mrs. Fairfax (because it doesn’t quite feel like a period piece without Dame Judi Dench).
Michael Fassbender & Mia Wasikowska
The movie begins with a near dead Jane stumbling into the home of St. JohnRivers (Jaime Bell) and his two sisters, where she slowly recuperates. The story is mostly told via flashback following Jane Eyre’s life from a childhood devoid of affection to her eventual employment as governess for Rochester’s young ward. The flashbacks make the childhood memories fairly brief, leaving a bit to be desired for establishing the character of Jane Eyre, but enough is understood to appreciate her independent spirit and passionate nature. She's a woman trapped by the social norms of society, yearning to be free and completely self-reliant. She knows next to nothing of the world outside her school and everywhere she ends up is like a cage (a point that's brought up several times throughout the film). Her job as governess is where the bulk of the plot focuses its attention. The most interesting scenes are those between Jane and Rochester, their banter being sharp and always concealing their true feelings. Unlike some other adaptations, it becomes much clearer here that they have feelings for each other from their first meeting. Given the forceful and brooding nature of Mr. Rochester, more time is usually spent on the two characters getting to know each other. That's not the case in this version however. Here, it’s almost love at first sight. The two leads perform well together, their dialogue seemingly matched with one another’s in terms of both wit and intelligence (it helps that Fassbender doesn’t completely dominate the film as Orson Welles did in the 1944 version), and their initial meeting by the fire place creates sparks quickly. This gives their entire romance a heightened sense of passion and restrained desire, but in spite of this, the film is relatively slow paced. Fukunaga spends a great deal of time and effort establishing a mood and creating a strong sense of atmosphere. He captures the mystery and barely contained emotion of the gothic romance perfectly. The cinematography is also terrific and there are many shots depicting the isolation of Rochester’s mansion, showing off the vast and empty surroundings, mirroring Jane's loneliness in the world. The mansion itself is a dark and gloomy setting, much time being spent wandering around it with only a candle to light the way. It’s highly stylized, the way it’s filmed, and there's plenty to look at. At one point, there's a montage sequence that, accompanied by only the soft music of a piano, strongly resembles a scene out of a Terrence Malick film.
I think that my biggest problem with this film is that it doesn’t do enough to distinguish itself from previous adaptations, or other romantic period pieces in general. Much of it felt familiar and even bordering on the routine. While that’s not to say that this is a bad film (because its certainty not), in the end it feels kind of unnecessary. The story is still intriguing, but this is a famous story that's interesting in many of its forms. Cary Fukunaga’s Jane Eyre is a strong adaptation with some excellent performances, but if you’ve seen other film adaptations of the story, chances are that this one won’t be a revelation to you.
The story is about a new wave of mysterious crimes sweeping through New York City by an organization known as the Foot Clan. Reporter April O’Neil (Judith Hoag) covers the story and soon finds herself being attacked. She's rescued by the Ninja Turtles and they become the targets of the Foot Clan and their Leader, the Shredder (James Saito). The first thing to examine is the presentation of the Turtles themselves. They’re brought to life with a combination of detailed costumes and puppetry, both of which are surprisingly convincing. Jim Henson’s Creature Shop is responsible for the development of the puppets and they look great; without any reliance on computer animation, this is as good as they could ever look in a live action film. A lot of credit must also be given to the puppeteers and choreographers, because the Turtles can also move really well, pulling off some impressive fight sequences. It’s clear that martial artists are inside these costumes and their ability to fight while wearing them is commendable. The characters of the Turtles are all fairly likeable as well; Rafael (Josh Pais) being the most prominently featured due to his personal struggle with his anger. Donatello (voiced by Corey Feldmen) and Michelangelo (Robbie Rist) are the comic relief, with Leonardo (Brian Tochi) serving mostly as the counterpoint to Rafael. Although Rafael’s anger is a conflict for at least the first half of the movie, towards the end it’s dropped altogether. It’s a shame because, of all the subplots, Rafael’s isolation is the most interesting. There are also some other characters like their wise master Splinter (Kevin Clash) who is, as mentioned before, a giant rat, the reporter April, and another vigilante named Casey Jones (Elias Koteas). They’re all relatively likable and add to the fun of the story, Casey Jones in particular. Elias Koteas plays him as a dumb, but well intentioned ex-hockey player who uses his excess strength to beat up criminals with a variety of sports equipment (ranging from hockey sticks to cricket bats).
Leonardo (Brian Tochi)
The plot isn’t terribly complex (though I think less is more with characters like these), and most of what happens to the main characters is only due to the actions of others around them, as opposed to anything they accomplish personally. What's really one of the biggest drawbacks to the film, and these characters in general, is how instantly dated they are. They’re very much a product of their times, as none of their catchphrases are even remotely used today. Many of the one-liners fall flat and expressions like “Radical” and “Cowabunga”, which were barely popular even then, are now nearly forgotten. Where the film truly succeeds however, is in its tone. It manages to bring these characters to life in a real world (meaning characters like Bebop and Rocksteady do not exist here), maintaining a delicate balance between taking itself too seriously and becoming a parody of itself altogether. One example might be the origin story sequences in which Splinter reveals to April how they all came to be. It’s a silly story, but told from the authoritative voice of a wise old master. A sillier element might be how the turtles can apparently walk the streets of New York without being recognized as long as they wear a fedora hat and trench coat, but it also helps that the villain, the Shredder (who bares a few similarities to Darth Vader, at one point even telling his underlings “I am your father”), treats the Turtles as a real threat, regardless of the way they look and act. There's a lot of humor, and much of it is accompanied by the cheesy soundtrack, but there are also some scenes that make the characters feel more realized and developed. The scene in which the four Turtles meditate and communicate with Splinter for instance, feels quite genuine. It’s also surprising how violent this film is. That’s not to say that there’s a whole lot of bloodshed, but there's a good deal of martial arts action to be found here. There are only a few instances of more cartoony action, and I think it’s possible that more inspiration was drawn from the grittier comics than the child-oriented cartoon series.
Overall, this is the best theatrical version of these characters that there's ever going to be. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles is a fun comic book film that's also a time capsule for its day.
“Dodes’ka-den” is the sound a train makes. It's a Japanese onomatopoeia that one might use to describe the sound of a moving train. It’s also the title of Akira Kurosawa’s first color film. The character of Roku-chan (Yoshitaka Zushi), chants this phrase like a mantra while he manipulates his imaginary train all throughout the slum. Though not real, through Roku-chan’s pantomime and Kurasawa’s clever use of sound, the train comes to life and introduces the audience to the central characters. Dodes’ka-den is much like one of his previous films, The Lower Depths, in that it follows a large ensemble cast of impoverished people living under the worst possible conditions. Unlike The Lower Depths however, the setting here is much larger and more varied, stylistically and visually speaking. Kurosawa used none of his major players, like Toshiro Mifune or Takashi Shimura, but instead relied on a strong cast of unknowns. The sets are meticulously detailed, showing off every speck of rust in the walls, helped along by his strong display of color.
Yoshitaka Zushi as Roku-chan
There's no central plot to follow, other than the lives and emotional trials of the inhabitants of a desolate slum, located on the outskirts of a landfill (the film was shot on location at an actual dump). Dodes’ka-den features a varied cast of characters, each with their own problems and ways of living. They live together in relatively close proximity, but many of their stories never cross in a meaningful way. Even kind elderly store owner, who tries to help out others in any way he can, is unable to assist everyone. The different episodes of the people in this slum differ radically from each other in terms of tone and significance. These characters range from the more humorous, such as the two friends who are so often drunk and carefree that neither they nor their spouses ever seem to notice (or care) when they swap wives, to the more tragic characters like the man who has cold and black eyes reflecting the inner loneliness and loss that has completely consumed him. His home is a barren, nearly colorless shack that's as isolated as the dead tree which stands beside it. Other characters are more vile and cruel, as seen in the story of the young and overworked flower girl who's raped by her uncle/adopted father. The most vividly colorful and eye-catching scenes come from the point of view of the beggar and his son. As an ongoing story arc, the beggar mentally builds a lavish mansion for him and his son to escape to. His complete descent into his delusions affects the very cinematography of the film, creating impossibly beautiful and memorable imagery, from painted backgrounds of the sky to breathtaking sunsets. Even though the surroundings are drab and lifeless almost as far as the eye can see, the slum is a place of vibrant color. The color scheme is different for every character and interior setting, depending on the home. The home of the mentally challenged Roku-chan, referred to as the “Trolley Freak” by the local children, is a room full of child-like drawings of trains and trolleys that cover all the windows. They catch the light and illuminate the room in a sea of color.
While there's often mention of a nearby town, it's never revealed in an establishing shot. The existence of the outside world is only implied through the presence of characters like the delivery boy and a policeman, and this allows the setting to be nearly timeless; having an almost post-apocalyptic feel to it. Dodes’ka-den is one of Kurosawa’s lesser known works, but on its own terms he manages to capture life in a setting that's impossible to imagine living in, revealing that even in the most destitute of places, where there are people, life moves on endlessly like a train running without tracks.
