Posts Tagged ‘Family’


Tokyo Sonata

August 29th, 2011 | article by | No Comments »
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Year: 2008  Company: Fortissimo Films / Entertainment Farm   Runtime: 120′
Director: Kiyoshi Kurosawa   Writers: Kiyoshi Kurosawa, Max Mannix, Sachiko Tanaka
Cinematography: Akiko Ashizawa   Music: Kazumasa Hashimoto  Cast: Teruyuki Kagawa, Kyoko Koizumi,
Yu Koyanagi, Kai Inowaki, Haruka Igawa, Kanji Tsuda, Kazuya Kojima, Koji Yakusho, Jaosn Gray
Disc company: Eureka! / Masters of Cinema Series   Video: 1080p 1.85:1
Audio: Dolby TrueHD 2.0 Japanese,  DTS-HD MA 2.0 Japanese, Dolby Digital 2.0 Japanese
Subtitles: English   Disc: BD50 (All Region)   Release Date: 06/22/2009
Available for purchase through Amazon.com

Note: Due to the Sony DADC warehouse fire in London earlier this month the majority of the back-stock for Tokyo Sonata was destroyed.  Eureka / Masters of Cinema are in the process of repressing this, along with many of the other titles whose stock was lost, as combination DVD / Blu-ray editions.  Ignore any indications you may find of this title being out of print (including exorbitant Amazon and eBay marketplace prices1) – it will be back.

There’s one brilliant moment among the many in Tokyo Sonata that stands out to me on every viewing.  As the unemployed businessman father of the story’s central family waits in line at a work placement center, his similarly unemployed businessman friend turns to him and confesses that his wife, from whom he has been hiding his joblessness, is beginning to suspect.  ”I have to find a way to make her trust me2,” he says, before concocting a faked business dinner to bolster the illusion that his life is continuing as usual.  The thought of telling her the truth, and thus accepting his own condition, never crosses his mind.

This brief scene is the crux of Tokyo Sonata, to date the last film from Kiyoshi Kurosawa (best known in the West for his allegorical horror features Cure and Kairo), a film that inhabits a world all too familiar, in which familial communication has broken down and mistrust is the order of the day.  Kurosawa’s knack for developing a lurking sense of unease serves him well here, where he effortlessly transposes it onto the mundane verisimilitude of a traditional family drama.  It’s easy to separate oneself from the surreal threats posed by homicidal mesmerists or ghostly blotches of human grease, but Tokyo Sonata dwells on the far less sensational horrors of everyday life, and is all the more affecting for it.

Set contemporaneously and reflecting a time of growing threats to the family unit (a global economic recession, the war on terror, and the age-old problem of career centrism), Tokyo Sonata follows the implosion and subsequent transcendental rise of the Sasaki family.  One stormy morning father Ryuhei (the excellent Teruyuki Kagawa, Serpent’s Path) is unceremoniously ejected from his administrative position, the price of the outsourcing of his department to nearby China.  Finding himself suddenly astray, with the career upon which he built his identity only a memory, Ryuhei desperately attempts to keep up appearances, spending his regular hours waiting in the long lines at the local work placement center and taking charity lunches alongside the city’s homeless population.

At home Ryuhei’s veneer of authority begins to crack, as his relationship with both his wife and two children continues a steady deterioration set in motion long before his job was lost.  Housewife Megumi (Kyoko Koizumi) itches to express herself from beyond the confines of her daily routine, while wayward older son Takashi (Yu Koyanagi) tries to find his place in life through a series of dead-end jobs.  Meanwhile younger son Kenji (Kai Inowaki in his acting debut), failing to find a place for himself in a traditional school system in which he and his instructor are constantly at each other’s throats, develops an unexpected interest in learning to play the piano.  With his social position lost and the possibility of matching his former position practically non-existent, Ryuhei takes out his frustrations on those from whom he should be seeking support.  He ignores his wife, argues with Takashi and categorically denies Kenji’s request to learn the piano, driving the three of them further and further from him in the process.

  
  
  

As Ryuhei’s attempts at domination increase each of his family members begin their own private rebellions against it.  Takashi, in seeking a direction for his life, joins the military and becomes embroiled in a conflict in the Middle East.  Megumi earns her driver’s license, an expensive privilege, and begins window shopping for both a car and an escape.  Kenji finds a dysfunctional keyboard in a garbage heap and learns to use it as best he can, and stashes his monthly lunch allowance away for secret piano lessons.  All the while tension between the four is growing, and Ryuhei, finding himself trading administrative work for the degrading position of shopping center janitor, seems poised for a violent outburst…

Tokyo Sonata comprises some of the most absurdly horrifying imagery of Kurosawa’s career, imagery whose impact is heightened by the uncomfortable reality it represents.  As Ryuhei wanders through the streets of Tokyo he finds a whole disaffected population of the similarly lost, hordes of former businessmen who have defined themselves by their careers and who now waste away the working hours in public libraries, city parks and charity lunch lines.  The impact of the visuals here is near universal – who can’t relate to losing a job, and the sense of “what now?” hopelessness that so often comes along with it?  Tokyo Sonata also plumbs the unsettling depths to which that hopelessness can drag us all, from the development of self-destructive personalities to the grim finality of suicide.  It is in these moments, in which the lows are at their lowest, that the film proves most unsettling.  As Ryuhei becomes overtly abusive the final thread that holds his family together is ripped away – Kenji attempts to run away, but falls afoul of the law, while Megumi turns an attempted home invasion into an unlikely opportunity for escape…

But with the future at its most uncertain and the Sasaki family in its darkest hour, the sun both proverbially and literally rises – the Kurosawan equivalent of “…tomorrow is another day!”.  The reconciliation of Tokyo Sonata never feels cheap or manipulative, and avoids the happy family cliches of similar efforts.  Instead, at the height of their irresponsibility, the individual members of the Sasaki find themselves, and realize in no uncertain terms that which they are at risk of losing.  Ryuhei and his wife cease to strive for happiness in what they don’t have, and instead find contentedness in what they do, while son Kenji offers a moment of uncompromising beauty – a soulful piano recitation of Debussy’s Claire de Lune.  It’s the concept of mono no aware in action, a fleeting moment of transcendental bliss that’s all the more impacting for the ugliness that preceded it.

There are those who tout Tokyo Sonata as Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s masterpiece, and given the wealth of awards and praise it has garnered I can hardly argue with them.  It is certainly his most accessible film to date, presenting a universal story of familial progression with neither the ambivalence or ambiguity that has marked so much of his prior work.  And while the existential themes familiar to his career are present and accounted for, from the obscure nature of identity to the issues of communication posed by modern society, the end results are all together different.  Bleak as the world of Tokyo Sonata may be, the sun still rises on it and the birds still sing, and its ugliness, like all things, is transient.

  
  
  

Limited to DVD-only editions both domestically and in its native Japan, Kiyoshi Kurosawaw’s award-winning Tokyo Sonata has been given its due respect in a phenomenal Blu-ray edition courtesy of Eureka! Entertainment’s Masters of Cinema series.  Though produced in the United Kingdom I’m pleased to report that this edition of the film is ALL REGION compatible, with even the standard definition supplements rendered in a globally digestible NTSC format, leaving nothing in the way of excuses for why anyone shouldn’t have it in their collection.

Presented in full 1080p for the first time anywhere in the world, Tokyo Sonata is granted a properly framed 1.85:1 transfer and a healthy AVC encode (average video bitrate is 29.4 Mbps) in its Blu-ray debut.  The two hour feature is spread across just over 30 Gb of a dual layer BD50, and the results are both impressive and honest.  After toying with digital filming technology in Doppelganger, Bright Future and Loft, Kurosawa and ace director of photography Akiko Ashizawa have returned to 35mm photography, and I couldn’t be happier.  The imagery here is rich in both real world detail and the untouched texture of the medium itself, a 1-2 combination that I can’t help but love.  Contrast is at healthy levels throughout, as is the intentionally limited color palette.  This won’t be the most vibrant or demo-worthy transfer you’ve seen, and there’s even some printed film damage (specks and a few larger marks) to contend with, but the image remains honest to the source photography throughout.  I suspect this is a reference-level transfer for the title in question, and it retains its deliciously filmic qualities even when the image is zoomed-in to 200-300% its intended size.  Those looking for complaints will find none here today – this one looks precisely as it should.

Eureka present Tokyo Sonata with not one but two HD audio choices in the original 2.0 Japanese – a variable bitrate Dolby TrueHD track at around 600-800 kbps, and a DTS-HD MA option at around 1.7 Mbps.  Though I suspect the DTS-HD MA track, with more than double the bitrate, should be technically stronger, I found it impossible to discern a difference between the two.  Like the majority of Kurosawa’s work, the sound design here is quite subtle and restrained, with occasional punctuation from louder effects and minimalist soundtrack cues.  Dialogue is crisp and intelligible throughout, with no undue technical flaws – not that I was expecting any from this very recent production.  As with the visuals, I’d say the audio here is precisely as it should be.  A lossy Dolby Digital 2.0 Japanese option is also included for the sake of completeness.  The optional English subtitles that accompany the feature are clear and legible, appear quite well translated, and don’t suffer the sparsity evident on some translations.  As an uncultured American I did muse at some of the verbage – “smartarse” jumps to mind.  Again, I’ve no complaints.

Supplements appear to duplicate those that appear on the Japanese DVD edition, and with the exception of the UK trailer for the feature (3 minutes, HD) are all presented in 480p SD.  You get a Making Of documentary (61 minutes) that covers literally every aspect of the production and features plenty of behind-the-scenes footage, a Q & A Session (12 minutes) and other footage (15 minutes) from the September 2008 premiere in Tokyo, as well as a discussion of the benefits of seeing the film on DVD from the cast and director (9 minutes).  I enjoy the respectful and appreciative tone of these pieces more than those of their American counterparts, which are typically no more than studio fluff.  The humility of all those involved is not lost on this reviewer, and I look forward to seeing more from all of them.  Rounding things out is a thick 28 page booklet that features a brief director’s statement from Kiyoshi Kurosawa and a excellent original essay by B. Kite.

I really can’t recommend Tokyo Sonata enough, whether you’re a fan of Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s brand of cinema or not.  This is certainly a standout piece in his impressive oeuvre, and well deserving of the attention it has received.  This was my first import Blu-ray, as well as my first experience the Masters of Cinema series, and I was duly impressed on both counts.  MoC have put together a stellar high definition release, from the basics of the transfer right on up, and one that no self-respecting cinema buff should be without.  You’ll not find a higher recommendation from me than here – this is must-have stuff.

1 Case in point: At the time of this writing a certain eBay seller has DVDs of the Masters of Cinema series edition of The Burmese Harp listed at a whopping 381 pounds sterling – more than $600!  It’s an exceptional release of an exceptional film, to be sure, but that level of faux-crisis price fixing is shear insanity.
2 Emphasis mine.
in conclusion
Film: Excellent  Video: Excellent  Audio: Excellent   Supplements: Excellent
Harrumphs: None.
Packaging: Standard Blu-ray case, 28-page booklet.
Final Words: Everyone has there favorite director, but for me there’s nothing quite like the K. Kurosawa touch.  Tokyo Sonata is brilliant filmmaking through and through, and easily the director’s most accessible film to date.  There’s nothing at all wrong with the Masters of Cinema series Blu-ray edition of this title, except perhaps that you don’t own it.  A must have! 


Gorgo

January 2nd, 2010 | article by | 6 Comments »
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postercompany: King Brothers Production
and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
year: 1961
runtime: 78′
country: United Kingdom
director: Eugene Lourie
cast: Bill Travers, William Sylvester,
Vincent Winter, Christopher Rhodes,
Joseph O’Conor, Bruce Seton
writers: Eugene Lourie, Robert L. Richards
and Daniel James
cinematographer: Freddie Young
music: Angelo Francesco Lavagnino
dvd company: CMV Laservision
release date: January 8, 2008
retail price: EUR 10.99
disc details: Region 2 / PAL / single layer
video: progressive / 1.66:1 non-anamorphic
audio: Dolby Digital English, German (2.0 Mono)
subtitles: none
order this disc from Amazon.de
or order the VCI Destruction Edition
from Amazon.com


Plot: A mother monster goes on a rampage through London after its offspring is captured and put on display in a circus there.

Eugene Lourie was no stranger to the giant monster film when King Brothers Productions approached him to direct their modestly budgeted suitmation opus Gorgo.  Lourie had jump-started the modern genre (with the help of stop-motion maestro Ray Harryhausen) in 1953′s The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms, a prime instpiration for Toho Company’s Gojira the following year, and would return to it as director of The Giant Behemoth (also about a monster attacking London, coincidentally) in 1958.  What had seemed fresh and new in 1953 was already feeling stale and mundane by the the end of the decade, and while King Brothers undoubtedly expected Gorgo to be another production from the same mold Lourie would deliver anything but.

The production would prove different in a number of major areas from Lourie’s earlier efforts.  Firstly, the special effects were to be handled in the same spirit as the pioneering miniature work done by Eiji Tsuburaya for Toho Company instead of through more traditional stop motion animation.  Secondly, the production was to be processed in glorious Technicolor.  Thirdly, the monsters of the picture would not be of the typical pitiable, misunderstood, and inevitably doomed variety.  Instead they would be given understandable motivation, and what’s more, they would be in the right.

Gorgo‘s human story is as engaging as it need be in setting up the action to follow but becomes nearly superfluous by the third act.  It follows a pair of salvage workers (Bill Travers and William Sylvester) who become stranded on the Irish coast after an undersea volcano erupts.  While hunting for supplies to repair their ship they discover the secretive community of Nara Isle, the site of many a Viking shipwreck.  The community turns out to be protecting more than just sunken treasure, and the salvagers are soon confronted by an amphibious monster nearly 70 feet tall.  Convinced that the creature is more valuable than any shipwreck, they capture it and ship it back to London where it is quickly put on display in a circus and amusement park.

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Unfortunatley for the salvage workers (and the entire population of London) the monster, dubbed Gorgo by its marketers, is little more than an infant, and its exponentially larger mother is none to happy about its kidnapping.  After a few entanglements with the Royal Navy, the scorned mother wades up the Thames and into the heart of London, destroying everything in her path on the way to freeing child.  The film ends with the mother and child headed out to sea, leaving the selfishness of man and the smoldering ruins of London behind.

Lourie’s daughter proved the inspiration for Gorgo‘s genre-defying sentimentality, having earlier been saddened that her father had allowed the rampaging Rhedosaurus to be destroyed at the conclusion of The Beast from 20,000 Fathoms. As such the director focuses squarely on the kidnapped infant and his avenging mother, knowing full and well with whom the sympathies of the children in the audience would lie.  Lourie had initially intended to go further, leaving military action against the mother Gorgo out of the production entirely.  The producers protested and the director complied, though none of the various armaments brought to bare against the creature are shown to have even the slightest effect.

Gorgo is crafted to be a crowd pleaser, devoting almost a full third of its brief running time to the truly epic destruction of London.  With few exceptions this is one of the best monster sequences ever put to film, and when it works (which is much more often than not) it can be every bit as astounding as the marketing would indicate (“Like nothing you’ve ever seen bedore!” screams the ad art).  This reviewer finds it easy to be taken aback as the mother Gorgo snarls with deep red smoke billowing up behind her, and is still fooled every time the monster encroaches upon Piccadilly and poetically destroys a massive advert for its caged child.  A shot of the monster approaching Big Ben is expansive, the night sky filled with fiery smoke.  Interestingly, the creature is almost always filmed travelling from left to right, evoking a strong sense of unstoppability and purpose.

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A largely uncredited effects team accomplishes great things here, including the vast miniatures of London, and cinematographer Freddie Young (Doctor Zhivago, Battle of Britain) captures every inch of it with stunning precision.  A fantastic score from Angelo Francesco Lavagnino (Wild, Wild Planet) provides themes of appropriate giganticness – as Glenn says in his notes on the film, “the movie has a BIG, big feel.”  Marring proceedings are a few hefty chunks of stock footage which prove irksome no matter how well edited they may be.  Lourie is said to have removed the stock footage segments from his private print of the film.

I must have seen Gorgo a thousand times as a child, renting it time and again from local video stores and even tuning in to Pat Robertson’s TBN to catch a late night showing.  It holds a special place in my heart, which makes it all the more shameful that its condition on home video is so dire.  The problem with Gorgo seems to be two fold, an issue of rights and conservation.  On the latter front, whether any of the original Technicolor prints of the film remain in existence is questionable and the elements tapped for its multitude of home video transfers are in dire need of restorative work.  As for rights, MGM distributed the picture in the states but seems to have lost track of the paperwork in following years – VCI has since assumed some responsibility for its home video distribution in the USA.

There are currently no domestic releases of Gorgo in the country where it was produced, and VCI’s iterations have been lacking to say the least.  Their latest Destruction Edition from 2005 improved a bit in the image department, but is limited by its poor interlacing and lack of anamorphic enhancement.  The loathsome 5.1 surround remix of the original monophonic audio is the real deal killer here, and while it works well enough in places it renders the climactic final act almost unlistenable.  An original unrestored monophonic track is available on the disc – in French.  VCI is currently re-issuing some of their catalog titles on Blu-ray (and with fine results), so one can hope that an HD version of Gorgo is swimming somewhere out on the horizon.

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The VCI transfer (top) is more detailed and slightly brighter as well as more tightly cropped.  It is also terribly interlaced, squished vertically, and presents with a strange color anomaly (color is shifted upwards and to the left by a couple of pixels) throughout.  The CMV Laservision transfer (bottom) is slightly darker and softer, but is progressive and has more intense color.
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Stepping up in the interim is German DVD outfit CMV Laservision, and while their release is far from perfect it is a step up from the domestic Destruction Edition in several important areas.  While the VCI and CMV Laservision editions seem to share the same original source material (right down to the running time), the CMV Laservision transfer is progressive.  Detail is softer in the German release and contrast a shade darker, but an annoying color shift (a couple of pixels up and to the left in the VCI edition) is thankfully not in evidence.  Even with less in the way of fine detail the German transfer upscales better when blown up and cropped off for widescreen sets.  Audio is presented in the original and preferred monophonic but is, unfortunately, unrestored.  Both English and German language options are included – there are no subtitles.

Supplements kick off with the same brief but informative Behind the Scenes featurette that graced VCI’s two previous DVDs.  The segment is written by the extremely knowledgeable Tom Weaver and gives an excellent overview of Gorgo‘s production.  An extensive image gallery of various memorabilia for the picture and two theatrical trailers (American and German, the latter of which is in much better shape) round out the film-specific extras.  Additional trailers for other CMV Laservision releases are also included,  Krieg der Infras (a Taiwanese Kamen-Rider film), Roboter der Sterne (a compilation of episodes of the Toei television series Super Robot Red Baron), and Godzillas Todespranke (the German variant of the South Korean monster picture Yongary – Monster from the Deep), as well as an advertisement for a German book on giant monster cinema.

Gorgo has been a lifelong favorite and its state in the home video market is disparaging to say the least (a Japanese release from a few years back may be superior to all the English variants for all I know, but it is long OOP).  While I can hope for better editions in the future, the CMV Laservision remains the best option for the moment.  The film itself comes very highly recommended.

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