SUNDANCE 2014: R100

A scene from R100.

A L-O(a)de to (en)Joy

By John Esther

Once upon a time, a mild-mannered man named Takafumi (Nao Omori) needed some sexual excitement in his life. His wife was in a coma, so sexual relations in the biblical sense may not have been the most decent thing for him to do. 

Thinking, or feeling, he should just have his sexual needs fulfilled by sadistic, random encounters instead, Takefumi enters into a yearlong contract where dominatrices will appear unexpectedly to humiliate and hurt him until his head comic(book)ally swells -- thus indicating sexual gratification. (It would have been funnier, more subversive and more apropos with the film's conceits if the filmmakers had done that with Takefumi's crotch area instead.)

Unfortunately, for Takafumi, and soon others, these sadistic encounters become increasingly intrusive, degrading and violent. Random encounters move from the public to private sphere -- threatening Takafumi's workplace and home. Soon, Takafumi wants out of the contract, but getting out of the contract has never been an option. But does he really want out? The upping of the sexual ante leads to a bigger payoff.

Certainly not for everybody's viewing pleasures (but what film is?), the latest film from writer-director Hitoshi Matusmoto (Big Man Japan) is a surreal, absurd tale of an everyman combating his sexual desires. The more dangerous the abuse and sex become, the more Takafumi wants it to stop. But the danger is just too erotic to stop. The more the women come after this department store salesman, the more explosions, metaphorically and literally, will be necessary.

Reflecting the absurdity of Takafumi's sexual-cinematic adventure is a metanarrative involving a film ratings board (or is it the film crew?) consisting of three men and one woman watching Takafumi's story. Their bewildering comments about what the viewer (them and us) has seen, suspects, and speculates adds a layer of humor and intelligence to the primary narrative. Their responses to the lack of continuity or reality in the film are amusing, but what is especially amusing is that the male board members are less comfortable with the film's sexual tropes than the female board member -- in particular the first scene with the Gobble Queen (Hairi Katagiri), a metaphor for the all-consuming vagina; or, perhaps, vagina dentata run afoul.

However, when a film goes for this level of absurdity and humor it is bound-ed to have a few, exasperating, or very unfunny, scenes, such as the prolonged ordeal between Saliva Queen (Naomi Watanabe) and Takafumi. Prancing and oral spitting is so limiting. Plus the casting of Lindsay Hayward, AKA professional wrestler Isis the Amazon, as CEO of the bondage company. Casting a six-foot nine-inch blonde American woman in a Japanese film may have added more leverage to film's satire of petite bourgeois sexual desire -- or theory of desire, notably in the relation with the constructions of desire in Occidental imagery -- had Hayward been less cartoonish, or a better actor, than her professionally wrestling persona.

But those are mere drawbacks to one fun film to watch. Director of photography Kazushige Tanaka, costume designer Satoe Araki and composer Hidekazu Sakamoto wonderfully abet the film's atmosphere of sex, violence, dread, desire, humor and whimsy.

 

SF INDIEFEST 2013: SIGHTSEERS

Tina (Alice Lowe) in Sightseers.

Edgy comedy

By Don Simpson

Chris (Steve Oram) and Tina (Alice Lowe) have only been dating for a few months when Chris suggests that they drive across the rolling countryside of Britain for a week-long vacation. Chris wants to show Tina his “world,” which basically means taking her to various sites of historical significance that he holds dear to his heart. The trip will also whisk Tina away from her emotionally manipulative mother (Eileen Davies), who has kept Tina from doing much of anything with her life.

It is not long after they hitch up Chris’ Abbey Oxford Caravan and hit the road that their getaway takes on other connotations. It quickly becomes apparent that Chris has anger management issues, and Tina’s mental state is no less fragile. The claustrophobic space inside the caravan serves as a boiling pot for their emotions; either one of them can snap at any time.

Ben Wheatley’s Sightseershumorously observes masculine and feminine aggression, sticking with (and possibly satirizing) the gender stereotypes of men being overly-methodical and women being overly-emotional. Violence for each of the characters is triggered and unleashed much differently, and they both rationalize their violent acts in different ways as well. Whether it is purposeful or not, Wheatley’s film becomes an intriguing -- and comical -- social commentary on aggression; yet, simultaneously, the violence is totally rationalized by the characters’ irrationality. So by making the characters “crazy,” this differentiates them from “normal” society and fully explains their abnormal behavior. That, of course, also makes the violence much easier for us — the audience — to laugh at without any pesky moral dilemmas to burden us with guilt.

FILM REVIEW: THE TRIP

Rob Brydon and Steve Coogan in The Trip.

One up falling down

By Don Simpson

Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon's uncanny chemistry was quite evident in Tristam Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story, and it only makes sense that director Michael Winterbottom would do his best to milk their personalities in a reprise performance, albeit without the ins and outs and pomp and circumstance of Laurence Sterne's post-modern-before-there-was-modern novel. This time around, Winterbottom keeps the hyphens to a minimum and opts to ground the narrative on a singular and logical plane of existence; well, other than a few dream sequences -- one featuring a brilliant cameo by Ben Stiller.

Steve (Steve Coogan) is commissioned to go road tripping across Northern England to critique six fancifully unique restaurants for the Observer. Steve's foodie American girlfriend, Mischa (Margo Stilley), was the original impetus behind Steve pitching this story, but she has recently returned to the U.S. to take a break from their relationship. Caught in a lurch -- he does not want to do this trip solo -- Steve phones Rob (Rob Brydon), a fellow thespian with whom Steve bickers and competes with non-stop. The Observer is picking up the tab for the expenses, and Steve is willing to split his wages with Rob 60/40. It is an offer that Rob cannot refuse, even if it means leaving his family behind.

Thus Steve and Rob commence their journey northward on a Monday morning. We quickly learn that Steve enjoys giving his passenger (and us) a verbal overview of all of the roads he will be taking to their next destination. (Steve also points out that he prefers traditional maps over GPS "sat maps".) As soon as they hit the misty moors, Steve turns on his preordained soundtrack of Joy Division's "Atmosphere" -- a music choice that Rob does not think suits their surroundings, but it does serve to bind this film to another in Winterbottom's oeuvre that also featured Coogan and Brydon, 24 Hour Party People. (You did not really expect Winterbottom to completely keep the Meta at bay, did you?)

Together Steve and Rob traverse painterly landscapes that one couldn't paint -- well, one could but it would not be the same -- and visit the homes of renowned poets such as Samuel Coleridge and William Wordsworth as well as other poetically historic landmarks such as Bolton Abbey. The shoddy-at-best cellphone reception in the desolate moors makes Steve's endless tug-o-war with his agents to pave the path towards acting success all that more difficult. At 44-years old (or he has been 41-years old for the last three years), Steve's separation with Mischa, strained relationship with his son, and the declining state of his acting career (he claims that he has lost countless roles to Michael Sheen) weigh heavily on him; so Steve contends with his mid-life existential crises by bedding beautiful women, drinking often, and getting stoned (according to Steve, "most creative people smoke marijuana or hash"). Rob, on the other hand, is a happily devoted husband and father, who seems perfectly content with the state of his career.

Road movies, buddy movies, foodie reality television shows -- as Rob says, "it is 2010, everything has been done before, all you can do is do it again, but better." But what has not been done before (at least not that I know of) is a combination road movie-buddy movie-foodie reality television show, and that is what Winterbottom sets out to do. But that is also somewhat deceiving, because even though Winterbottom shows us fleeting bits of back of the house food preparation, and allows the restaurants to announce each of their beautifully realized dishes to Steve and Rob (and therefore to us), The Trip is not actually about the food. Instead, the gorgeous restaurants and their culinary creations (such as a green alcoholic beverage that Rob compares to a "childhood garden") are utilized as a unique backdrop for some brilliant bits of purely improvised comedy. (Note: no one is credited as the writer of The Trip.) Sometimes a particular food will trigger a tangential conversation for a while, but the talk always seems to return back to Steve and Rob attempting to one-up each other with dueling impressions (of Michael Caine, Richard Burton, Al Pacino, Woody Allen and various James Bonds), reciting poetry, and riffing upon various permutations of made up dialogue (such as an epic pep talk before an epic battle, "To bed, gentlemen, for at daybreak we rise!"). The absurd banter is relentless -- as Steve comments to Rob, "It's really exhausting keeping all of this going, isn't it?" -- and often careens into becoming uncomfortably mean-spirited. It is perfectly clear that these "bumless chums" actually do care for each other; they might even admire each other's work. They just do not want to share a bed -- or even a hotel room -- no matter how large it is.

Steve is a bit too narcissistic and patronizing for my comedic tastes (that is also the only fault I have with the otherwise pitch-perfect Tristam Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story), even though it is often done for ironic effect. For example, Steve does not think well of actors and comedians who rely on impressions beyond the age of 40 -- a position that is purposely patronizing towards Rob, but loses significantly more weight each time Steve does an impression. Steve, who is from Manchester, also takes a few digs at Rob's home country of Wales, repeatedly stating that Northern England has as unique an identity as Wales does.

The Trip originally ran in Britain as a six-episode series for BBC and the theatrical version is a concatenated version of that series. Several critics have already noted that the relentless abrasiveness of Steve and Rob's bickering is better served in small doses, making the six-episode BBC series sound a bit more appetizing. Being that Winterbottom is serving the United States the whole enchilada in one 107 minute sitting is a curiosity to me. Tristam Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story did not do well in the U.S. theaters -- taking in a mere $1.25 million, and I do not see how The Trip will be any more appealing to American theatergoers. I, for one, enjoyed The Trip, but I often find myself in the minority when it comes to Winterbottom.