divemaster13
Member: Rank 4
Monday's review...time for a Japanese film (The Mystery of Rampo)
Previous reviews:
2/13: A Tale of Two Sisters
2/20: Comrades, Almost a Love Story
2/27: A Chinese Tall Story
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The Mystery of Rampo (1994)
Directed by Kazuyoshi Okuyama
Starring Masahiro Motoki, Naoto Takenaka, and Michiko Hada
In Japanese with English subtitles
Film: 5 stars (out of 5)
I love it when a director shows me something new--reaches me in a novel way. The visually stunning and thought-provoking The Mystery of Rampo certainly fits the bill. In reading a couple of reviews prior to watching this film, I was led to believe that it would be at best an exercise in trying to follow stream-of-consciousness, overly pretentious filmmaking; or at worst, plotless incoherency.
I did not find that to be the case at all. Of course it is a rather unconventional film that owes a lot to the school of Metafiction, with definite shades of David Lynch. But I never felt lost or manipulated, or felt that the director (Okuyama) and cinematographer (Yasushi Sasakibara) were just showing off. I could probably deconstruct what happened plotwise scene by scene if I were so inclined. But that’s not the point. I’d rather sit back and revel in the experience and allow myself to appreciate the intriguing vision of the director.
Basic plot: A mystery writer (Rampo, played by Naoto Takenaka) creates a story where a woman murders her husband by allowing him to suffocate in a trunk. He tries to get permission to continue writing and publish his story, but the Japanese censor board, having read the first chapter or so, is having none of it. Frustrated, he burns his manuscript.
The next day, he reads a story in the newspaper where a woman named Shizuko (Michiko Hada) murders her husband by allowing him to suffocate in a trunk. He is flummoxed because no one but him had any clue about his story. The fact that she understands that her fate is somehow in the hands of the author only adds to the intrigue.
After the disappointment at the censor board, Rampo endures further insult to his artistic integrity as his previous works are made into ridiculous screenplays and insipid movies. You can see his disillusionment as he attends publicity parties and press events. In one scene, as he watches a pre-screening of the latest film adaptation, you can just see the disgust boiling up in him, without him even having to say a word. Could the life of an author who can barely contain or control his creativity sink any lower? Is it no wonder that he would rather fall into a fantasy world where his artistry and imagination can break the limitations placed on him by society?
It is at this point that the film veers into the realm of the imagination where characters are not bound by the constraints of reality. Is fantasy imitating life or is life imitating fantasy? Is he writing the story or is the story writing him? Or are they inexorably intertwined?
The director has a few other nice and unconventional touches. For example, the opening scenes use stock footage of daily life in imperialistic Japan, thus suggesting the oppressing sociological culture Rampo has to work within. Another interesting approach is the initial “story within the story” being depicted in hand-drawn animation. And there are other very subtle touches (flashes of color; intriguing looks; visages being superimposed on the actors or characters) that make repeat viewings incredibly rewarding. This is a film of layers.
I've seen this movie many times--it is gorgeous and captivating. Hada’s beauty is transcendent. I agree with another reviewer who said "just about every scene in the film could be framed and sold as an art poster." Akira Senju’s score (played by the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra) is a perfect fit and some of the prettiest music I’ve ever heard in a film.
A wonderful experience all around.
*Trivia note:* Edogawa Rampo was a real person. It is the pseudonym for acclaimed Japanese mystery writer Hirai Taro who took the name as an inside joke. Say “Edogawa Rampo” slowly (slurring over the “wa” helps) and with the inflection of a Japanese trying to speak English for the first time and see if you can’t come up with Taro’s favorite author.
Previous reviews:
2/13: A Tale of Two Sisters
2/20: Comrades, Almost a Love Story
2/27: A Chinese Tall Story
-----------------------------------------------
The Mystery of Rampo (1994)
Directed by Kazuyoshi Okuyama
Starring Masahiro Motoki, Naoto Takenaka, and Michiko Hada
In Japanese with English subtitles
Film: 5 stars (out of 5)
I love it when a director shows me something new--reaches me in a novel way. The visually stunning and thought-provoking The Mystery of Rampo certainly fits the bill. In reading a couple of reviews prior to watching this film, I was led to believe that it would be at best an exercise in trying to follow stream-of-consciousness, overly pretentious filmmaking; or at worst, plotless incoherency.
I did not find that to be the case at all. Of course it is a rather unconventional film that owes a lot to the school of Metafiction, with definite shades of David Lynch. But I never felt lost or manipulated, or felt that the director (Okuyama) and cinematographer (Yasushi Sasakibara) were just showing off. I could probably deconstruct what happened plotwise scene by scene if I were so inclined. But that’s not the point. I’d rather sit back and revel in the experience and allow myself to appreciate the intriguing vision of the director.
Basic plot: A mystery writer (Rampo, played by Naoto Takenaka) creates a story where a woman murders her husband by allowing him to suffocate in a trunk. He tries to get permission to continue writing and publish his story, but the Japanese censor board, having read the first chapter or so, is having none of it. Frustrated, he burns his manuscript.
The next day, he reads a story in the newspaper where a woman named Shizuko (Michiko Hada) murders her husband by allowing him to suffocate in a trunk. He is flummoxed because no one but him had any clue about his story. The fact that she understands that her fate is somehow in the hands of the author only adds to the intrigue.
After the disappointment at the censor board, Rampo endures further insult to his artistic integrity as his previous works are made into ridiculous screenplays and insipid movies. You can see his disillusionment as he attends publicity parties and press events. In one scene, as he watches a pre-screening of the latest film adaptation, you can just see the disgust boiling up in him, without him even having to say a word. Could the life of an author who can barely contain or control his creativity sink any lower? Is it no wonder that he would rather fall into a fantasy world where his artistry and imagination can break the limitations placed on him by society?
It is at this point that the film veers into the realm of the imagination where characters are not bound by the constraints of reality. Is fantasy imitating life or is life imitating fantasy? Is he writing the story or is the story writing him? Or are they inexorably intertwined?
The director has a few other nice and unconventional touches. For example, the opening scenes use stock footage of daily life in imperialistic Japan, thus suggesting the oppressing sociological culture Rampo has to work within. Another interesting approach is the initial “story within the story” being depicted in hand-drawn animation. And there are other very subtle touches (flashes of color; intriguing looks; visages being superimposed on the actors or characters) that make repeat viewings incredibly rewarding. This is a film of layers.
I've seen this movie many times--it is gorgeous and captivating. Hada’s beauty is transcendent. I agree with another reviewer who said "just about every scene in the film could be framed and sold as an art poster." Akira Senju’s score (played by the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra) is a perfect fit and some of the prettiest music I’ve ever heard in a film.
A wonderful experience all around.
*Trivia note:* Edogawa Rampo was a real person. It is the pseudonym for acclaimed Japanese mystery writer Hirai Taro who took the name as an inside joke. Say “Edogawa Rampo” slowly (slurring over the “wa” helps) and with the inflection of a Japanese trying to speak English for the first time and see if you can’t come up with Taro’s favorite author.
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