In recent years there has been no shortage of Chinese war epics. Every year several prominent directors stick their names to one or other excessive big-budget affair where no expenses are spared to recreate the largest battles in China's rich and sprawling history of warfare. Ping He's Wheat may look like it fits this mold, but actually it doesn't (at all). It's a remarkably small and humble film, which is exactly where its true strength lies.

Rather than focus on the actual warfare, He directs his camera at a village full of left-behind women. Year after year they have to survive on their own while the man are waging war in nearby cities and villages. Uncertain of their men's fate, the women go about their everyday lives, relying on their shaman for information from the outside world. The setup of Wheat reminded me a little of Hu Guan's Cow (also a 2009 film), which offers a similar secluded view of warfare, focusing on a small village tucked away amidst the mountains.

Out little village is greatly disturbed when two men are found in a nearby riverbed. Identified as their own soldiers through wounds inflicted by the adversary's weapons, these two men turn about to be deserters of the adversary's army, left for deadafter they jumped into the river. Looking at the somewhat troublesome start of the film, it's a shame He gives away this piece of information early on as it could and would've spiced things up a bit during the first half of the film.

But He doesn't keep his audience in the dark and focuses on how these two men integrate with the rest of the villagers. With one of the two men acting as a complete idiot though, I don't feel He made the right decision there. The first half is centered around many dialogs and features little to no action sequences, which makes the constant over-acting of the dimwitted fellow a little hard to bear, especially as he is quite prominently featured.

Visually He has everything under control. Standards are pretty high for Chinese war epics, but He lives up to them pretty well. He does differentiate himself with a handful of shots from directly above which do make for some very nice views of the corn fields. The lighting is particularly strong and the interior settings are lush and impressive. If you're a fan of the wealthy and traditional Chinese styling, you're gonna feel right at home.

The music is equally traditional, a combination of beautiful strings and typical Chinese instruments. I've come to expect little more from a film like this and I do like the music itself quite a bit, but I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more variation in the scores used for films like these, as they become a bit interchangeable after a while. It can be a little dire if you can dream a soundtrack before even seeing a trailer of a certain film.

As for the acting, Jue Huang does a good job as fierceless warrior. It's Fan Bing Bing who's allowed to shine the most though, as the strong, fearless mistress of the village who takes her job and responsibility very seriously. The supporting cast is equally solid, the only bad apple is Jiayi Du who takes his role a bit too far and becomes annoying rather quickly, playing the village idiot. Part of the annoyance comes from the character itself, but He should've downplayed him a little to make his presence less visible.

Wheat knows a rather rough start. He gives away a bit too much at the start of the film and the role of the village idiot gets too much attention. Gradually things get better though and when halfway through the film the village is attacked by bandits, raising some serious suspicion around the story of our two men, Wheat turns into a very amusing and remarkable little film, even gaining enough momentum to warrant the beautiful yet somewhat sentimental ending.

Wheat is different from other Chinese war epics in the sense that it keeps itself away from the actual battlefield and warfare, focusing more on the people left behind. There are some mild yet impressive action sequences in the second half, but they are definitely not the main selling point here. If you're a fan of Cow then Wheat this is a sure sell, but everyone looking for a more toned-down, stylish yet amusing war film should have a go at it. Remember that the first half our is a bit rough around the edges, things will get only better after that.

With Permanent Nobara director Yoshida confirms his signature style, removing all doubt that his previous films were some kind of lucky hits. Pay no attention to the poster and trailer I listed here, Yoshida's latest is a lot edgier that its own advertisement would have you believe. It's a cheeky little comedy with more sting than your average film, leaving you behind pretty amused yet somewhat bewildered.

Yoshida's first film (Funuke, Show Some Love You Losers) is one of my all-time favorite films. It dominates a list of off-key Japanese comedies that gained popularity in the late '00, combining rather wry drama with light-hearted comedy. A weird and awkward combination that won't appeal to everyone and no doubt requires a somewhat warped sense of humor to appreciate. It's difficult to compare to other comedy sub genres, but if you're into Todd Solondz (Life During Wartime) it's definitely worth a shot.

At first glance Permanent Nobara reminded me a little of Naoko Ogigami's Yoshino's Barber Shop. It features a similar town and similar hair dresser salon (one-style only haircuts - perms in this case), even the laid-back atmosphere is somewhat reminiscent. That is, until people start to talk to each other. The dialogs are strangely honest and direct, contradicting the appearance of the characters in front of us. Jolly looking grandmas are talking about scoring dates and screwing men, kids are talking about abortions and women are rather unbothered about the unfaithfulness of their husbands. Something is definitely off here.

Central to the story lies the tale of Naoko, a young mother who returns to her home village after divorcing her husband. Together with her young daughter Naoko moves in with her mother, using her spare time to help out in the local hair salon. Naoko tries to pick up the pieces of her life and starts dating her old classroom teacher, but much like the other men in the village he doesn't appear to be too reliable.

Visually Yoshida remains true to the conventions of the genre. Rural Japanese dramas usually result in bright green colors and idyllic landscapes, emitting a tranquil and soothing atmosphere. Add a couple of beautiful beach scenes and some scenic shots of the sky and you pretty much know what to expect from this film. Yoshida paints a pretty picture, though not overly stylized or in-your-face.

The soundtrack is quite simply a logical extension of the visuals. Soft piano music and agreeable strings combine to create a sweet, enjoyable atmosphere. It's not the kind of music you'll remember after watching the film, but it does serve its purpose rather well. I could see it working as some kind of de-stressing therapy, but I don't think that was Yoshida's aim here. Again, the film remains true to genre conventions.

Main character Naoko is played by Miho Kanno, an actress I first discovered watching Kitano's Dolls where she portrayed one of the saddest characters I've ever seen on film. Her talent for drama is a real asset to Permanent Nobara, as she can easily switch between heart-felt drama and the lighter, more deceptive dramatic scenes Yoshida forces onto his audience. The supporting cast is pretty great too, providing comedy and additional portions of sorrow to make the picture complete.

Permanent Nobara draws its humor from the light-hearted way it approaches its overly dramatic story. Through the eyes of any other director, there would've been a lot of pain and sorrow in this little village, but Yoshida turns it around and creates a happy, joyous and up-beat community of people that deal with their problems as it they were just little bumps in the road. Safe a few clear comedic interludes, Yoshida isn't too direct about his methods though. Most conversations are just passing moments that would go completely unnoticed if you weren't paying attentions to the subtitles. Everything in this film is made to make it feel as if you were watching a regular, run-of-the-mill (though quality) Japanese drama, but when you think you see some old ladies talking about the weather, they're really discussing penis lengths.

Like I said before, you need to be susceptible to this kind of humor to appreciate Yoshida's films. The end of Permanent Nobara is more straight-forward drama (that works remarkably well by the way, all credit goes to the superb acting of Kanno), but the first hour or so, even though the film is drenched in dramatic events, is straight-up comedy. This will no doubt lead to mixed reactions, but if you think you can handle it, this film is absolutely worth your time.

I'm actively seeking out Yoshida's final film, if it proves to be as good as Funuke and Permanent Nobara he's making my select list of directors to watch. If it doesn't, Yoshida is still responsible for two lovely comedies. Permanent Nobara isn't as edgy or out there as Funuke, but it's a great follow-up that knows to charm and amuse in equal measures. Recommended if you think you're up to the challenge.

Tom Lin's latest endeavor may be his definite ticket to international recognition, if Starry Starry Night makes it out of Taiwan (always somewhat of a gamble). It's a film with enough potential to appeal to a wide audience while at the same time maintaining its artistic integrity and firm traces of Lin's own personal voice. One thing is certain though, the result is one of the sweetest and most endearing films of 2011, warmly recommended to brighten up one of the upcoming winter evenings.

Lin has made some first-grade career choices these past few years. After brushing up his skills as first assistant director for a couple of quality productions (Spider Lilies, The Wayward Cloud, Do Over) and helming his very own first feature film (Winds of September), he now tackles the adaptation of a popular illustrated novel by Jimmy Liao. A smart move that landed him some extra budget to play around with, obviously well-spent.

Starry Starry Night is the slightly fantastical tale of Mei, a 13-years old girl trying to deal with growing up, while still escaping to her own fantasy world when real-life problems prove to be too daunting to face. Mei finds a companion in Lee, an introverted young boy who just transferred from another school into Mei's class. When Mei's parents decide on a divorce, Mei runs off with Lee in search of a moment of untainted happiness and maybe even some romance.

The film is told completely from the perspective of Mei. Lin could've grabbed this opportunity to lose himself in overly detailed fantastical dreamworlds, instead he keeps the feel of Starry Starry Nights much more down to earth, limiting most fantastical elements to background details or small touch-ups left and right. It gives the film a more mature atmosphere while still respecting the world of the main characters and their somewhat immature behavior.

Lin impresses royally with the film's visual style. Moody, warm and colorful, but also with a more serious and grim edge during the first, more reality-based half of the film. The CG is remarkably well accomplished, being both technically and aesthetically pleasing. One scene in particular, near the end of the film (the dream with the jigsaw puzzles) turns out to be a real stunner. Starry Starry Night is yet another film keeping the aesthetically honor of Taiwanese cinema high.

The soundtrack is a bit more on the safe side (as is usually the case with this kind of film). Starry Starry Night features a quality score with quite a few agreeable and atmopsheric tracks, but it does little more than support the scenes Lin had in mind. I prefer my soundtracks to be a bit more defining and out there, but I must say that the music here does add a layer of sugar-coated softness and glow that benefits the overall atmosphere.

As for the acting, Jiao Xu carries most of the film on her shoulders. Discovered in Stephen Chow's CJ7 she is now clearly expanding her reach into more complex and demanding roles. Lin gives her plenty of room to sparkle and Xu clearly grabbed that chance with both hands. Her performance is outstanding and gives a lot of extra shine to the Mei character. Eric Lin supports her pretty well, the rest of the secondary cast is solid but clearly not the main focus of Starry Starry Night.

If the poster art looks somewhat familiar, it may be because Woody Allen used the same Van Gogh painting to promote his latest film, Midnight In Paris (or because you've seen the Van Gogh painting before of course). The painting is more relevant for Starry Starry Night though, as it is actively featured during one of the key scenes and it is used to flesh out the key morale of the film. The whole art angle within Lin's film might feel a bit forced at first, but it does pay off rather well as the films progresses and it finds a perfect conclusion in the final scene.

While the epilogue is quite mushy and even sentimental, Lin shows his true mastership by making you believe this was the only ending possible. You can very well call it a feel-good Hollywood finale (and there is little to contradict that), but it's executed with so much class and warmth that any other conclusion would've felt wrong and out of place. The final shot is of stunning, unprecedented beauty and will leave you with a warm, contented feeling that carries on well beyond the last credits have disappeared from the screen.

Tom Lin paints one of the dearest, warmest and most charming films of the year. Starry Starry Night is a beautiful and imaginative trip into the mind of a 13-year old girl, exploring her world and dealing with her problems. The film has its fair share of memorable scenes and a truly magnificent ending that will keep you comfortably warm during these cold, rainy winter days. I'm already looking out for Lin's next film as I'm sure there's still a lot of unexplored potential left in him. For now though, I'll just recommend Starry Starry Nights and hope that it will reach a big, loving audience that cherishes it accordingly.

Not too long ago I wrote about the real-life use of html5 microdata and how it takes us one step closer to the ideal of a semantic web. While I'm still pretty excited to see the web expand in this direction, there is at least one serious bump in the road worth mentioning. Bottom line: the easier it is for crawlers and other pieces of software to read our data, the easier it becomes for them to steal our data for their own gain. And currently we have no way to protect ourselves.

If you ask me about the pinnacle of Japanese drama cinema there is only one name that withstands all criticism: Hiroshi Ishikawa. Sadly his work is terribly under-appreciated (or just plain unknown), even amongst fans of Japanese cinema. What better reason to review his first film and unmistakable stronghold of my personal top 10 list. A film that threw me off-balance the first time I watched it and still holds that same power almost 10 years later.

Ishikawa is a director with a background in shooting commercials, which is pretty funny considering the fact that his films are amongst the most subtle, stilted and tender dramas you could ever imagine. There is no flash, no hype, no trickery, just staggeringly convincing characters in a very realistic slice of life setup. If anything, the man's film teach you a thing or two about reigning preconceptions of a director's background, especially when said director comes from a more commercially-oriented industry.

I still find it somewhat awkward to explain to people that Tokyo.sora is the one film that probably has the biggest emotional impact on me. After all, Ishikawa's film is about six women living in modern-day Tokyo, hardly something I can actively relate to as a 30-year old guy living in Belgium. But underneath the surface of Tokyo.sora lie more universal themes, exploring social contact, solitude and just about everything that lies in between.

Tokyo.sora's women are fragile yet sturdy characters who are all on the verge of a blossoming relationship (some romances, some friendships). Making contact or truly opening up to other people isn't quite that easy for them though, so they all struggle along, each of them dealing with the hurdles that are thrown at them in their own, personal way. There is no real story and there are no real dramatic events propelling this film forward (except maybe one, and even that is handled in a very down-played manner), just the intimate stories of these six women.

Even though Tokyo.sora is pretty sober, it's still a very attractive and beautiful film to behold. Ishikawa chose his color palette very carefully, with many blues and grays dominating the screen. The framing is delicate and precise, the camera work accurate and observing. Ishikawa often refrains from looking at his subjects directly, instead he picks mirror reflections or positions his camera out of view from the characters. This really heightens the feeling you're looking in on the lives of the characters rather than watching scripted scenes, even though there is always a clear level of styling present.

The music is handled by Yoko Kanno (anime scoring legend) and while I'm not a big fan of her anime work, she provides a wonderful, touching and emotional score here. Maybe not the most original of scores (think piano tunes and soft-voiced vocal tracks) but definitely a valuable asset that enhances the soft and drifting atmosphere of the film, easing you into a warm state of trance.

The acting too is simply superb. None of the actresses are particularly popular or well-known, but they all possess a natural flair that makes it that much easier to feel along with their characters. This being a Japanese drama you have to be able to cope with the typically stilted and introverted way of acting, though for me this only makes things better (and it's actually quite in line with the themes of Tokyo.sora).

Don't expect too much in the way of story or dramatic climaxes. Everything about this film is minimal, from cinematography to scoring to character development. Sure the women change throughout the course of the film, just not in any major, life-altering ways but in a more natural, realistic way. Small events, meetings or simple gestures are the highlights of this film, slowly influencing the lives these women are leading. This being a film about six women whose lives aren't necessarily linked together in any way, the structure can be seemingly random and uneven. At the same time, by jumping between the different stories even within scenes you get some very nice contradictions and a worthwhile mix of emotions. While I've seen some people critique this way of mixing the different stories, I actually believe it helps the realistic character of the film.

Ultimately this is a film about the friction between social contact and solitude. Sometimes contact with others is what you crave and loneliness can be a painful sore. At other times loneliness is liberating and social contact can be a real drag. Both elements fulfill an important function in our lives, even though there are moments when they are difficult to cope with. So even though I'm not female and I don't live in Tokyo, these themes are still pretty relevant to me, pulling me in like no other film can.

If you're interested in Japanese drama Tokyo.sora might not be the best entry level film. The pacing is incredibly slow, the acting particularly introverted and the film itself remarkably uneventful. And yet, seeing these women go through their lives, often incapable to make seemingly easy decisions but always finding the strength to pick up their lives and move on, this film emits such strong, powerful and delicate emotions that it easily surpasses its peers. As far as realistic drama goes, this is as close to perfection as I've ever seen. If you're into Japanese dramas and you haven't seen this yet, there is no better film I could recommend.

Check the trailer, no subs needed.

I'm not really a man of melancholy and traditions, unless they are just plain and unmistakably useful. So here we go again (do check the 2008, 2009 and 2010 editions for more valuable recommendations), my rundown of the 10 best movies I've discovered in 2011. A list of films you simply need to see, if not you risk the chance of missing out big time. No new content, but a solid reminder should you have missed some of my film reviews this year.

With only a couple more days to go until the new year, it's once again time (check the 2008 and 2010 editions) to look back at the various web-related things I wrote during past year, selecting the articles I think were the most important, most relevant or most interesting. As always you won't find anything new here, but if you're still looking for some worthy web-related new year resolutions, there should be plenty that suits your needs.

2011 was a year of progress, but also a year of many hypes and community setbacks. A year where the web progressed at a faster pace then I witnessed ever since I started in this business, but also a year where many of the best practices we fought so hard to establish were tossed aside in exchange for quick gains and tacky show-offs. I guess this is aptly reflected in the articles I selected, which probably contain more rants and defensive writing than in all the other years combined. But with good reason of course.

By now you probably should've realized Sogo Ishii (August In The Water, Electric Dragon 80.000V, Kyoshin) is set firmly on my shortlist of favorite directors. I appreciate his punk approach to cinema, but he also has a softer side he's not afraid of showing. Dead End Run combines both aspects of Ishii's work and blends them into an explosive rush of beauty and style. The result is a 60 minute anthology film featuring three phenomenal shorts.

Dead End Run is Ishii's "gone-digital film". Like many others he started experimenting with digital film in the early 2000's. While the image quality may be a bit grainy at times, it's clear that mobility and editing benefit a lot from the digital approach. Bluntly said, Dead End Run is Ishii's way of experimenting with his new toys, lucky for us the result is a bit more than just some technical wizardry. While the anthology itself is not really high on concept (three people on the run are trapped by a dead end), the shorts themselves are still pretty exceptional in their own way.

Last Song (the first short) features a beautiful dance macabre. While Ishii is known for tightly incorporating music into his films, this is probably his first full-fletched musical, and it's not even set to anything remotely resembling punk. When Yusuke Iseya is trapped in an alley he kills a passing girl by accident. The girl seems rather pleased with her faith though and decides to recite one last musical number with Yusuke. In only fifteen minutes time Ishii builds up a very cute and endearing romance that left me quite perplexed when it suddenly ended.

While the music itself is very poppy, the cinematography, dance choreography and sound effects make for a very intriguing effect. And while the setup might be quite absurd, Ishii has little trouble to make this short come to life, transforming it into a quirky yet very believable romance. A very strong opener to this anthology film and my favorite of the three films shown here. 4.5*/5.0*

The second short (Shadows) features Masatoshi Nagase, no doubt one of Japan's coolest actors in the business. The ideal man for the job too, as this short is basically a 15-minute Mexican stand-off between Nagase and himself, intertwined with a similar stand-off from the past. Ishii goes western here, as he focuses rigidly on faces and glides his camera between the two opposing forces, catching every angle before bringing the showdown to a surprising yet fitting ending.

I'm not big on westerns and I usually find these kind of shoot-outs pretty boring, but it's clear that a different setting and more inspired camera work can do a lot for a scene like this. It's a great exercise in getting the most out of one single moment in time, as long as you manage to keep it varied and interesting. A great little short that is low on substance, but high on style. 4.5*/5.0*

The third and final short (Fly) is a bit different in feel from the first two. It doesn't play at night and Ishii puts more focus on mobility, energy and action, making this short a bit more lively and nervous. The film features Tadanobu Asano on the run for the police. When he flees on a rooftop he runs into a girl which he takes hostage, quite unaware of the suicidal tendencies of this young woman.

The short becomes a bit more fantastical near the end of the film, which pretty much saved this short for me. While the first half isn't too bad, it's nowhere near as special or spectacular as the first two shorts. Asano is cool as ever, but the camera work was a bit too nervous to my liking and the build-up towards the ending a bit too random. Still, counting the second half of the short, it's still a beautiful little piece of film making. 4.0*/5.0*

Overall Dead End Run is a fun, varied and classy anthology film where Sogo Ishii allows himself to show his more experimental side while leaving room for some softer touches. There are some very nice parallels between the different shorts, there is plenty of audiovisual trickery and the short running time makes sure you won't get bored. If you like your films a little different this is a definite recommendation. 4.5*/5.0*

Don't miss the trailer, no subs but you won't need 'em anyway.

Tenshi no Tamago is the film where it all started for Mamoru Oshii (Tachiguishi Retsuden, Sky Crawlers, Patlabor 2). For the first time he was freed from any limitations, finally at liberty to make whatever kind of movie he wanted to make. The result is one of the most important milestones in Japanese animation history, a film that shattered any remaining notions that animation was merely kid's fare.

When people say Japanese animation is more mature than its Western counterpart they actually mean it appeals more to the inner geek. Even "mature" films like Ghost in the Shell or Jin-Roh are still littered with geeky elements and details (cyborgs, guns, random nudity). Of course these film also tackle more serious themes and ideas, but not without their fair share of fanservice, often alienating a more arthouse-oriented and/or depth-seeking audience.

Tenshi no Tamago has none of that. Apart from its fantastical setting this is a film that links itself to the likes of Tarkovsky, handling themes with a level of restraint and seriousness not often found in other animation films. There lies little to no fanservice in the fantastical elements, only symbolism and hidden meaning. Oshii declared that this film was a cinematic translation of his emotional state, hinting to the fact that even he could not explain every single thing explored or touched in this film.

The story is quite limited and focuses on a little girl traveling all alone through a desolate landscape. The girl carries an egg with her which she vowed to protect from the outside world. She meets up with a soldier who shows considerable interest in the egg she is carrying around, wondering what could be inside. And that's as much story as you're going to get from this film. Safe to say, if you can't handle slow and though-provoking cinema, you better stay away from this one.

Tenshi no Tamago isn't just Oshii's project though, the artwork of the film was directed by famed artist Yoshitaka Amano (known for his work on the early Final Fantasy games and recognized talent in the art world). While his art style isn't the easiest to translate to animation he did a truly wonderful job with Tenshi no Tamago. The film looks stunning, the animation is meticulously detailed and even though the 80s vibe is recognizable in some smaller elements (like the coloring of the skies), the film's visual style exists outside the realm of time.

The film's score is just as beautiful. Some sequences seem prolonged just to show off the awesome soundtrack (like the campfire scene), but that's hardly an issue considering the trance-inducing effect of the music. The sound effect are equally haunting, creating a very desolate and ethereal atmosphere that helps to even out the slow pacing. The voice acting is limited with only two characters and a noticeable absence of dialogue, but both characters are voiced with the proper understanding of their function. So even if you don't care about the meaning behind the film, it still works perfectly well as an audiovisual experience.

Believe it or not, but Tenshi no Tamago never found its way to the West (at least not through official channels). The first time I watched this was on a laptop (DVD player couldn't read Region 1 DVDs) with a printed script next to me just to follow the dialogues. I have the Japanese DVD at home now, but that's just for show. Whenever I want to see this film I have to rely on fansubs (or the HK bootleg, though I don't own that one). While I understand a film like this has a limited audience, the lack of an English-subtitled release is still one of the biggest injustices in cinematic history.

If you want the get the most out of Tenshi no Tamago it's best to read up a little on Oshii's struggles with religion at the time he was making this film. Viewed from that angle the story of the girl protecting the egg makes quite a lot of sense (though other elements, like the shadow fish are still a blank). The duality of the problem the characters are facing (you have to break the egg to find out what and if something is inside) is interesting enough and also retains its merit outside any religious context. For those who like to think and puzzle, Tenshi no Tamago is a pretty meaty film that fits in with the most serious of live action arthouse films out there.

In 1985 there was no animated film that even remotely resembled the likes of Tenshi no Tamago. Over the years more and more animated films began to incorporate mature themes, but I would argue that none of them could surpass the dedication and depth of this one. It's a strong, personal film that earned its place amongst the best work of Mamoru Oshii (and animation in general) and is the perfect example of mature animation. It's a real shame the popularity and appreciation of this film is hampered by lack of proper distribution in the West. Still, if you can find a way to watch this, do not miss the chance or you might regret it. 5.0*/5.0*

Check the trailer, no subs needed.

Without a single doubt, without any form of competition, this is the best film of 2011. And while Honey PuPu can't claim absolute originality (pk.com.cn precedes it), it's still the most beautiful, unique and skillfully executed film I've seen in its genre. So take a minute to find out why you definitely need to watch this, more so than anything else produced in 2011. I can't guarantee you'll like it, but in this case the experience is actually more important.

Within the heart of Honey PuPu echoes the voice of a new generation. Not a new generation of film makers mind, but a generation of people who grew up in a different world than we did. Most reviewers do seem to realize this, but not everyone seems to understand that it runs deeper than what you can see on-screen. Sure there's websites, headphones and mobile phones dictating the world of the main characters, but there are more profound and important differences with traditional film making.

The key difference can be found in the way we are brought up to process information as individuals. When I was young and I wanted to read up on a particular subject I reached for an encyclopedia. This gave me a bunch of facts and interpretations concerning a particular subject. Nowadays people turn to google, and sure enough a wiki page will pop up telling them pretty much the same things I was told. But the wiki page is just one simple search result amongst a range of hundreds and thousands of other impressions. Searching for information doesn't just lead to processing dry facts anymore, it opens up a full window of different media and different impressions that make up a more thorough and complex web of information.

This is where Honey PuPu differs from what we have come to know as cinema. Traditional cinema builds up a concept to illustrate the message or intentions of a writer or director. Depth and meaning are assumed by focusing on and expanding a single view, or in some cases the interaction between separate (often conflicting) views. It's the encyclopedia way of film making where we have one single access point and one voice teaching us about the central theme. Honey PuPu is nothing like that. It's a collage of opinions, views and interpretations that are connected by a single central theme, but stand firmly by themselves. "Truth" and "meaning" are found in this intricate web of information instead of trying to find it in one single statement. There is only a central theme and the director's personal selection of impressions related to this theme. The result is an experience much richer and impressive than any traditional film could ever produce.

All the above is nice of course, but you still need some solid talent to make it work as a film. With Hung-i Chen in the director's chair, there is nothing to worry about though. Visually this film is absolute stunning from start to finish. It's awesome to see Chen blend visual styles and atmospheres in a very natural and organic way. There are for example no specific, stand-alone animation sequences, but some scenes do make use of partial animation which is perfectly integrated with the live action imagerey. Chen's box of tricks is rich and beautiful, supplying each segment with the proper atmosphere and leaving behind a truly stunning visual impression.

The soundtrack illustrates a similar understanding of how to blend different musical styles and atmospheres. While essentially a poppy soundtrack, there are firm traces of hip-hop and electronic music which continuously weave themselves together in order to make an all-round impressive score. Chen has a background in directing music videos which clearly shows in the way he handles the music here. In short: the combination of visuals and score alone should make this film worth your time.

Most of the cast consists of youngsters, who I assume felt quite at home within the boundaries this film set out. The acting is pure and natural, while still keeping a very young and modern edge. Po-sheng Lin is the biggest discovery if you ask me, but the rest of the cast is not far behind in terms of fleshing out their characters. Impressive performances throughout that effectively lift the film to even higher grounds and hopefully mean the start of a bright career for the main cast.

The central theme of Honey PuPu is "missing", around this theme several stories are wrapped and explored. These stories are tied together by a website where missing people can be reported and traced, but all of that is just a hook to allow for more impressions and takes on what it means to miss or disappear. From boyfriends that left without a word of warning to lost bee populations, from nostalgia to lack of logic, it all flows in and out of view. Some ideas and issues are resolved, others are merely introduced and left to linger.

The result is a rather dreamy, poetic and refreshingly modern collage around one central theme. There is no single consensus or message, but that does not result in a lack of depth, on the contrary. The key to the "missing" theme can be found somewhere amidst all these different impressions and views, the feeling the film leaves behind is that of a broader understanding of the central theme rather than a heavily constructed and explored message forced down your throat. The voice of the director isn't lost in all this, but can be found in the actual choice of information rather than the single message most films carry with them.

And that is why this is a film by and for a new generation of people. Not because you see people interacting through websites and mobile phones in this film, but because Honey PuPu presents its theme in a radically different manner. Everything is a mash-up, a mix and collage of ideas and views, some personal, some found elsewhere. Watching this executed by a talented director is a unique experience that will hopefully develop into a full-fletched branch of cinema. I'm convinced it's still to early for this to actually happen (most films critics aren't going to be ready for a film like this), but films like Honey PuPu and pk.com.cn are definitely the beginning of something fresh and new. If you see only one film in 2011, make it this one. 5.0*/5.0*

Check the trailer , it's worth it.

Sometimes people can be so focused on theory that they completely miss the fact that real life has already caught up with theory. Last week I discovered that html5 microdata can finally be used in the wild, so I jumped on it for some cosy semantic experimentations. I voiced my concerns on html5 microdata in the past, but I wouldn't miss the change to see the semantic web in action, especially not when Google is on board and ready for some semantic magic.

British genre films are doing quite well for themselves. After a series of successful horror flicks British genre cinema is now broadening its range to other nerd-friendly territories. Enter Attack The Block, a mix of comedy, horror and sci-fi, opposing a group of grimy London kids with an invasion of blood-thirsty aliens. The concept is quite flawless (in a fun-guaranteed way) and Cornish is skilled enough to make it work.

While Attack The Block promotes itself as a film made by the producers of Shaun Of The Dead, the film is actually much closer related to recent French action/horror flick La Horde. Take a band of (semi-)criminals, lock them up in an apartment block and have them assaulted by a blood-lusting non-human species. Sure we're talking aliens instead of zombies here, but the difference isn't all that important really. Just another day at the office for the effect guys.

When everything is said and done Attack The Block is mostly defined by its setting. A young group of British slang-spewing Londoners living in the projects is what lifts this film above the rest of its peers. I admit to having a serious soft spot for the grimy slang of these youngsters so I was more than a little biased when watching this film, but it's just a lot more fun seeing this group of boys fight off evil in a storm of bloods, bruvs, fams and allows rather than being faced with the next group of ever-boozing and whoring American fodder.

The film starts when our little gang is disturbed by a nearby meteorite crash. An alien jumps out from the crashed meteorite and proves quite effective in disturbing one of their petty hold-ups. The gang is pissed and they decide to change the creature, eventually managing to corner it and kill it. What they didn't suspect is that they just killed one of the race's infants. When the parents arrive a little later they seem perfectly capable of tracking down the kids and have them pay for what they did.

Visually Cornish has everything under control. While not very extreme or meticulously stylized, the film looks attractive throughout. Cornish also deserves extra credit for the styling of the aliens. Even in full view they look cool, mysterious and convincing. It's the perfect example of smart and effective styling to keep the CG cost down and to maximize the intended effect, something that helps the film a great deal forward.

The soundtrack is a bit more generic and predictable, though the lack of high-energy grime tracks was actually a bit surprising considering the film's setting. A little disappointing too as I felt it could've added a bit more bang to the key moments of the film. The current score isn't bad, but it does feel somewhat underused and a tad too clean for its own good. Something Cornish should definitely work on in future projects.

The acting is all-around strong. The kids play their roles perfectly, forming a gang of annoying yet likable little pests. As for the secondary roles, Nick Frost has a pretty funny part that levels the action and sci-fi elements with a dose of enjoyable British humor. No-one is going to win any acting prizes with this film, but there's definitely some future talent amongst the young kids which will hopefully surface somewhere down the road.

Cornish is quite smart in the way he handles his film. Attack The Block combines some popular themes and genres, places them in a relatively new setting and makes sure that each part is adequately developed. The aliens look smart, the comedy elements are fun enough and the setting plays an appropriate part in establishing the film's own identity. It's an almost perfect genre mash-up that only lacks some balls and wits in order to become truly great.

As it stands though, Attack The Block is a highly enjoyable film that blasts by in no time. It's a quality production that will hopefully secure a follow-up project for Joe Cornish. If you're up for a blend of Critters and La Horde with a touch of Dizzee Rascal, you can't go wrong with this one. Recommended. 4.0*/5.0*

Check the trailer , it's worth it.

For me Lynch - together with Tsukamoto - opened up the doors to a cinematic world beyond the realm of pure commercial film making. Tsukamoto's Tetsuo and Lynch's Eraserhead were two defining films in my choice to become a die-hard film fan. Through the years Lynch became a bit more laid-back and commercial-minded, but when he released Rabbits he was finally able to top his first feature film. The result is as captivating as it is alienating.

Rabbits is not so much a feature film, but a series of 8 web episodes that were originally released on Lynch's membership site. Each episode features a simple opening sequence and a short list of credits. Lynch used pieces of these episodes in his next film Inland Empire, at the same time "people" re-edited the episodes to a single (short)film. Hence the reason why it eventually found its way into my list of 100 favorite movies.

Approaching Rabbits like a traditional film is virtually impossible. There is no clear storyline, there is no meaningful dialogue. The music is a continuous repetition of the same track and Lynch applies only one camera position for the whole series of episodes. And yet, through the magic of cinema, the film remains interesting and captivating through its entire running time.

The story/dialogue of the film appears to be coherent viewed throughout its entirety. But instead of keeping them in sync, Lynch seems to have randomized them completely. One characters say a line, the next replies with something completely unrelated. By the end of the film some lines seem to have referred to question posed 20 minutes earlier, but no clear explanation is given. I guess someone with a lot time could attempt to piece everything back together, I just never cared enough.

Rabbits was one of Lynch's first digital projects, which might be the reason why he kept things very simple. The film is shot from one single camera position, there are two different effect shots/lighting twists and one single edit. It's funny how this single edit feels like quite the event within a film that is filmed from one static viewpoint, even though the edit itself is actually quite trivial and boring.

Saying Rabbits is boring cinema, art for art's sake, is actually pretty hard to contest. For me it's the soundtrack that pulls everything together and turns it into a worthwhile experience. Badalamenti's works for Lynch is typically superb (and in that sense reminds me of Oshii-Kawai collaborations), but here Badalamenti has really outdone himself. From the first notes the single music track has a hold on me and the music doesn't let go until each short is finished. If there's one film that illustrates the power of music in cinema, it's this one. Also worth of note is the laugh track edited underneath the shorts. It's completely random but it works and gives the film an even weirder atmosphere.

As for acting performances, there is not much to say. Lynch reuses his Mulholland Drive cast (Coffey, Watts, Harring and Del Rio), dresses them up in big rabbit costumes and has them deliver lines in a rather monotone voice. It's weird, it's cool, but it's not much of a performance. And that's about all there is really.

Rabbits is emotional cinema. It is something you experience rather than understand. Sure after a while several snippets of conversation might gel together, but the overarching mystery never becomes clear, let alone that some form of explanation follows. The mystery is established through the music, the visuals and the async dialogue, and that it does extremely well.

If this sounds boring to you Rabbits is probably not worth the trouble of pursuing. It's a simple, one-trick project that offers very little in the form of tangible content. On the other hand it's superbly captivating and extremely mysterious, unlike any other film I know. A prime illustration of why cinema is such a magical beast, even if we know and realize how certain things are accomplished. Recommended, though it should be approached with caution. 5.0*/5.0*

No trailer but I can link the film in its entirety.

These days mobile-first responsive design is all the rage. And with good reason as at least the theory behind it should work for most websites. Things might be a little different for service-oriented sites who'd benefit from a more tailored solution, but responsive should be suitable enough for 75-80% of all the sites out there and would prove to be a great improvement over the current situation. There is one big hurdle left though, which lies with the served html between different resolutions.

This year's edition of 24ways.org provided two different solutions to incorporate "responsive images" in a webpage, both of them rather crappy hacks (said with the proper respect to those who uncovered these hacks - they're just not very pretty). More importantly, these proposed hacks don't even begin to fix the fact that we're sending way too much html to a device with a limited maximum resolution, only to hide it from view again after the html has arrived. Not what you call very efficient coding. I don't have a practical solution ready for you, but I believe it's still useful to try and define the goals and pitfalls of how responsive html could be achieved.

Even though I like my share of stylish Eastern martial arts period pieces from time to time, it's not exactly the most dashing or innovative genre one can imagine. Sure the cinematography improves and the fight choreography gets 1-upped all the time, but in the end these films all look very much alike. Enter Wuershan's The Butcher, The Chef And The Swordsman (BCS from here on), time to welcome a new generation of Chinese film makers.

I always figured BCS tied in with the rest of those "modern" Chinese/Hong Kong period pieces (think Mr. & Mrs. Incredible or My Own Swordsman). Decent, somewhat flashy martial arts comedies, but all in all too fluffy and forgettable to make a real impression. Wuershan is clearly aiming for more, revealing himself as the Chinese alternative to Taylor and Neveldine (Crank 2, Gamer). If that makes you cringe, it's probably best to abandon this film altogether.

BCS starts with the sad tale of a scruffy looking butcher in love with one of the top-selling ladies of virtue. The butcher is convinced he can save up enough money to buy his way into happiness, ignoring the fact that a skilled martial arts master is also eying the love of his life. Things look bleak for our butcher, until he meets a mysterious figure carrying around a mythical cleaver which will grant him the strength to claim his true love.

From there on the film tumbles in a repeating structure of flashbacks and stories within stories. Three tales develop (the story of the butcher, the chef and the swordsman - how convenient) that will lead back to a sprawling finale where our butcher will attempt to rescue his princess one final time. Needless to say, all of this is handled with the appropriate amount of over-the-top humor.

BCS is very typical for a film coming from a first-time director. Wuershan clearly grabbed this opportunity to show the world his skills and vision. The result is an overload of style and visual flash, which I can only applaud. Each segment and flashback has its own very distinctive, in-your-face look, all of them are interesting in their own way. From over-saturated and colorful set pieces to black and white with red highlights, from childish animation to old-style CG models, it's all here and executed with great skill.

The score could've been a bit better though. It's a somewhat eclectic mix of modern high-energy tracks that turns out to be quite functional, but resides mostly in the background and upon closer inspection feels a little too generic. If you really start listening to the music there is very much of interest there, but within the madness of the film it's hardly an issue. Still, something Wuershan should take into account for this next project.

As for the actors, they are an interesting bunch. Of course there is plenty of completely over the top acting (Hong Kong-style) going on, but that's to be expected from a film like this. It's even accentuated by the crazy camera work, so naysayers better stay clear from this film. At the same time there are a few actors who clearly understand this form of acting like no other. Mi Dan and Masanobu Ando (where did he come from) are top of the crop here, but the rest of the cast is equally energetic. Excellent comedy performances that grant a lot of extra energy to the film's already energetic exterior.

There isn't much depth to be found in the different storylines or characters, but as this is a full-blown comedy that was to be expected. A bigger problem is the continuous onslaught of style and energy, which makes this film a pretty tiring experience, especially for those expecting a laid-back no-brainer. Personally I love this type of film making, things can't be hectic, insane and weird enough for me, but I'm sure not everyone will feel the same (which is exactly why I referred to Taylor and Neveldine early in my review). If anything, this film will keep you awake, even when you don't like what you see.

BCS was one of my brightest discoveries of 2011 (though of course, the film was actually made in 2010), turning out to be a very unexpected yet pleasant surprise indeed. Up front I really didn't expect too much from this film, but the result is flashy, funny, weird and in-your-face. I'm an instant Wuershan fan and hope he'll keep doing stuff like this before slowly fading away doing big budget stuff with little of his own input left in the end product. Good stuff and definitely recommended for those who appreciate a fair amount of ADHD weirdness. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a subbed trailer, but mind some mild spoilers.

For all the reviews I've written for Oxide Pang's solo projects (The Detective, The Detective 2, Som And Bank and Basic Love) I never got around to reviewing my own personal favorite. Time to rectify this situation and give some love to one of Oxide's lesser known films, but without a doubt his most complete and impressive work to date. Mon Seung (also known as Diary in the West) has all the usual Oxide magic and then some.

From the outside (trailers and poster art) Mon Seung might look like a regular horror flick, but there's a little more going on below the surface. The film starts as a moody drama, switches over to horror and fantasy and ends as a rather successful mindfuck thriller. All these shifts feel natural and flow from the film's storyline, still it's probably best to be aware of this from the very beginning. The first part is rather slow and typical under-the-skin material, people expecting tension and horror antics right away might end up very disappointed early on.

The film starts with a a somewhat depressed Wing-na. She's a little lovesick and sad that she can't seem to sustain a real relationship for a long period of time. When she runs into a boy that resembles her former boyfriend she decides to give it another chance, but despite her best intentions things don't work out as planned. At first Wing-na doesn't seem responsible for the issues they are facing, but something is definitely amiss and slowly the truth will reveal itself.

Mon Seung features its fair share of twists and turns. Some of them are pretty predictable, others really blew me away (like the in-film reboot of the story, which left me completely perplexed the first time I watched it). People watching Mon Seung simply to find out how it all ends might be a little underwhelmed by the final twist, but if you prefer to enjoy the journey that leads you there this film has plenty to offer.

Oxide Pang has strong visual control over his films, which he once again demonstrates with this film. Some stunning filters, dark and moody lighting and strong camera work make Mon Seung a beautiful film to look at. And even the CG, which can be a bit showy in most other Pang films, is subtle, functional and still manages to be jaw-dropping beautiful in some places. Add some very solid editing and a very consistent style throughout and you get one of the most beautiful films the Pangs have ever directed.

I've always been quite critical about the musical scores in the Pang's oeuvre and even though I wasn't really convinced by the music in Mon Seung the first time around I found little wrong it now. Maybe it's a bit more dreamy than I'd anticipated the first time I watched it, but it actually flows quite well with the more fantastical bits of the story, giving the film a warmer and more mysterious overall feel.

As for the acting, Charlene Choi, not one of Hong Kong's best actresses, carries this film almost entirely by herself. Lucky for Oxide Pang she was able to pull it off and put in a very commendable performance. Isabella Leong and Shawn Yue complete the cast and their help is definitely appreciated, but I feel this is without a doubt the best performance of Choi I've seen so far and that alone is worth a special mention. The way she swings between timid, lonely girl and her other, dark side is impressive.

The first half of Mon Seung is rather slow and atmospheric, focused mostly on the dramatic side of the story. Around halfway through the first really impressive scenes find their way into the film and after one hour Mon Seung shifts into full gear. From there on the film shows its true colors and turns into one of the most devious and entertaining thrillers I've ever seen.

Maybe this particular mix and shift of styles caused the film to remain somewhat underground, though by the time it was released the Pang's weren't as hot as they used to be, so that too might have contributed to its current status. Whatever the reason, Mon Seung never found its way to its audience and remains terribly under-appreciated. It's a shame because it showcases the true skills of Oxide Pang and it turned out to be his best film yet.

Mon Seung is a skillful, beautiful and impressive little mindfuck thriller. With a very limited cast and one single location Oxide Pang still manages to go all-out and deliver his best film to date. Atmospheric from start to finish, surprising at times and captivation throughout. Hopefully this film will have its revenge 10 or 20 years from now as a true cult classic, but I'm not too optimistic. Definitely recommended. 4.5*/5.0*

Check the trailer, English subs included.

About once a year I like to bitch about the irony of what we like to call the social web. Every year the web is getting a little worse in this respect, so here are my somewhat randomly gathered thoughts, observations and possible cures for this year. In any case, the conclusion is a clear one: best practices aren't always working in favor of the overall quality of the web, contrary to what some people might have you believe.

Taiwanese dramas are usually a pretty safe bet and while most of them are not all that original or creative, in the end they definitely know how to deliver. Blowfish is one of the best examples I've seen so far, only sparingly experimenting with more frivolous elements, yet fleshing out on of the dearest romances I've seen on film so far. Chi Y. Lee just bumped up a few notches on my list of notable discoveries.

Between this film and Lee's short film Smoke (included in the Taipei 24h anthology) it's clear that Lee both understands and embraces the visual aspect of the medium. While there are some sparse dialogues in Blowfish, they are few and far between and they consist mostly of small-talk. The real emotions are happening on-screen, acted out by the actors rather than scripted by a team of writers. In that sense Lee's films are more closely related to Japanese dramas (or by extension, the work of Kim Ki-duk - Bi-mong, Breath) instead of the seemingly more obvious link with China and Hong-Kong.

Blowfish documents the blossoming relationship between two young people, both with deep emotional scars that prevent them from easily committing to each other. Xiao Zhun flees the city after finding her current boyfriend in bed with another woman. An online auction brings her to a small, rural village where she runs into a young baseball coach. The two get together, but the coach (who I believe remains nameless throughout the film) clearly has his own set of issues to deal with. They decide to live together, slowly discovering each other and slowly growing to love each other.

And really, there isn't much more to this film. Lee isn't too interested in throwing in some extra dramatic strands to keep things interesting (expect for the short finale), instead he choses to focus on the tepid and uncertain developing relationshop between the two main characters. The result is slow yet gracious and subtle film that plays one single card, but plays it so well it easily lasts the 90 minute running time.

Taiwan has some great cinematographers and Blowfish benefits from the aesthetic grace so prevalent in these Taiwanese dramas. The film features some superbly orchestrated shots, benefits from beautiful lighting and even dares to include some playfully edited scenes in between. Nothing too daring or experimental, but noteworthy (and effective) nonetheless. The lush setting does it's work too, resulting in pure eye-candy from start to finish.

The soundtrack is safe and trusted material, but executed with such love that it lifts the film to new heights. Somewhat reminiscent of the best work of Joe Hisaishi (piano and string tunes) it gives the film an incredibly soft and soothing atmosphere, making it all the easier to let yourself drift away on the woos of the young couple. Perfect material for a film like this.

Films like Blowfish require a lot of effort from the actors involved. Vicci Pan and Kang Jen Wu have to carry most of the film by themselves and they don't get much help from dialogues or other narrative means to get their emotions across. They rely almost entirely on body language to sculpt their relationship and to draw the audience into their little love story. Both actors do a tremendous job though, even during some of the more daring scenes. The supporting cast is good too, though their work is quite limited as the film's focus is heavily fixated on the two main characters.

Blowfish is a film that will appeal to a certain type of film fans, in particular those who have a soft spot for Japanese (silent) dramas. The actors don't talk much, the drama is limited in scope and everything is handled with much grace and subtlety. A film like Blowfish can be boring as hell if you don't like its characteristics, but if you do then this film is definitely one of the finest and dearest examples out there, only surpassed by the work of Hiroshi Ishikawa (Su-ki-da, Tokyo.sora)

It's hard to recommend this film to people who don't really know what they're getting into. Blowfish has everything to be one of the most romantic films of 2011, but unless you feel completely at ease with the directing style of Lee it might just as well be one of the dullest stories ever told. I loved the film from start to finish, glad to once again meet a (mostly) silent couple that lives through the film without too many conversations or direct outbursts of emotions. This film will definitely get in my end of year list later this month, but approach with caution if you do not know what to expect. 4.5*/5.0*

Check the trailer, English subs included.

The films of Sogo Ishii (August in the Water, Electric Dragon 80000v) can be quite a handful to track down, but if you are aiming to see the full version of Kyoshin (Mirrored Mind) you better get ready for some serious digging. Then again, once you succeed in tracking it down you're all set to uncover one of Ishii's most impressive and engaging films to date. Kyoshin is Sogo Isii's Vital and then some, so brace yourself for some prime punk-goes-bio action.

I was lucky enough to catch the full version of this film at the now-gone Dejima festival in Amsterdam a couple of years ago. A shorter version of Kyoshin appeared on a Korean short collection DVD (Jeonju Digital Project Box) which is almost impossible to find these days, and with 20 minutes cut from the full version not really worth the trouble if you ask me. It's a shame, because Kyoshin turned out to be my absolute favorite Sogo Ishii film and one definitely worth owning. It's still available as part of the Sogo Ishii Collection Box (The Psychedelic Years), but no subs included and quite expensive indeed.

With Kyoshin Sogo Ishii almost completely abandons his punk background, leaving behind the world of dark alleys, grating soundtracks and extravagant characters, making a full 180 to end up with a mix of Hiroshi Ishikawa's work and Tsuka's Vital. Expect some truly stunning landscape photography coupled with close-to-the-skin introverted drama. It's great to see how these two directors, while still managing to uphold their own unique style alive, keep dancing around each other professionally. In this particular battle though, Ishii is the clear winner for me.

The story is quite simple and nothing more than a hook for the core issue this film tries to deal with. Kyoshin follows a young woman on the brink of a breakdown. Unhappy with her life, she feels alienated by the cold realities of the urban life around her. When she meets up with another woman they decide to end their lives in search of a better existence, but paradise isn't exactly what she hoped for either.

Ishii is a visual film maker and even though he switched the tone of his new film around completely, his love for on-screen beauty didn't leave him. Even better, Ishii is at his absolute best here. Remarkable about Kyoshin is Ishii's demonstration of perfect framing. Especially the second half of the film is filled with landmark shots, both beautiful and strangely abstract. But then Ishii goes on to show the same scene from a different, wider angle and you notice that the shot was made abstract by the perfect framing, not by the setup itself. Best of all is that this is not just some technical showing off but the effect is actually related to the core theme of the film.

The soundtrack is equally beautiful, though it settles itself more in the background. A beautiful, soothing score that feel somewhat familiar to fans of the original Ghost In The Shell soundtrack. It's not a rip-off or shameless copy, but the style of music feels strangely familiar. It works wonders for this film though, so you won't hear me complaining.

As for the acting, I can only say that Miwako Ichikawa gives her all in this film. She makes her character come to life with such natural grace that it's hard to believe she is simply an actress coming to work and doing her job. Mind that this is typical Japanese drama, so don't expect any big emotions or grand sentimental scenes, everything is kept very small and subtle. Absolute perfection that exists on the same level as Ishikawa's films. The secondary cast is small and negligible, the entire film rests on the shoulders of Miwako.

It's probably no coincidence that Sogo Ishii changed his artist name after this film. With that in mind, it's an educated guess that some of the material here is at least partially autobiographical. The character's struggle and transformation throughout the film, the story of an actress trying to come to terms with her own films ... it's difficult to say without any word from the director himself of course, but this film is without a doubt a new beginning for Sogo Ishii as a director.

Even though this is definitely a film with a message and at least some level of symbolism, the film is still pretty straight in its delivery. Kyoshin is not an intellectual film, it's an emotional film that sets out to make the audience feel rather than think. The thinking is reserved for after the movie, when you're watching Ishii's film there's only room for being swamped by the gracious atmosphere. Ishii's message is honest and down-to-earth, though I assume not quite earth-shattering for most people watching it.

Kyoshin is a marvelous film. A perfect score and absolutely stunning visuals transport you to a different world, only to let go of you 60 minutes later, comforted and touched by the film's protagonist's struggle. It's a new step in Ishii's career that will hopefully result in some new work in the near future. Actually finding this gem will be a bitch, but it's definitely worth the trouble. I stopped hoping for a English-friendly DVD release but maybe someone will someone will surprise me, please do. Without a doubt one of the best film's I've ever watched. 5.0*/5.0*

Don't miss the trailer, an absolute must.

What with rebuilding my blog and all, I ran into an old problem that I feel deserves some renewed attention. Two years ago I wrote a post about a missing css combinator (trying to overcome the strictness of the child combinator), sadly this combinator didn't find its way in any current (tentative) spec. This issue is more relevant than ever, so here is what I found out when asking how the css working group is trying to deal with this problem.

Based on the trailer and poster art, Del La Iglesia's Balada Triste de Trompeta was either going to be a great cinematic celebration or a complete and utter failure. The marketing of the film left no doubt that we were in for a bold and daring piece of film, but I wasn't completely certain whether De La Iglesia was really up to the job. After watching the film though, it's safe to say it surpassed all my initial expectations.

I like Spanish (genre) cinema, but overall I have the feeling Spanish films like to play it safe, aiming for craftsmanship rather than creativity and identity. From slow-burning horror films like No Do and El Orfanato to fake-docus like [rec], [rec] 2 and Atrocious, these are all great example of solid film making but lacking the element of surprise and wonder. If anything, Balada Triste de Trompeta is here shatter this very presumption, ready to serve you a different kind of Spanish cinema.

From the very first minutes it is obvious this is not just another genre flick playing by any strict rules or sticking to simple genre conventions. The film can't even stick to one single genre for longer than five minutes in a row, continuously shifting between action, horror, drama and romance. Below all this manic shape shifting there is a solid layer of dark humor tying everything together and keeping the film from falling apart, though not everyone might pick it all that quickly as some of the jokes are quite morbid indeed.

The story of this film goes all over the place, but at its core lies a simple tale of young boy who sees his father imprisoned and exploited and never gets over his traumatic past. When the boy grows up he joins a circus as a sad clown, trying to follow in his father's footsteps. But a failed relationship finally pushes him over the edge, throwing him in a big emotional turmoil that takes a firm grip on him and the people around him. While this sounds very dramatic and deep the reality is an evil looking clown waving around automatic guns, so no worries.

Visually De La Iglesia has everything under control. The film has a raw and dark visual edge, often contrasted with strong and sharp lighting. Every shot or scene is a meticulously visualized and this for the entire running time of the film. From costumes to setting to camera work and lighting, Balade Triste just oozes style and, apart from one or two mediocre CG shots, looks absolute impeccable. Seeing a film like this with such lush production values is quite rare, but it's even rarer to see such an amount of money used this well.

The soundtrack is a different story. Like many other Spanish films the soundtrack can be a little overwhelming. The music seems ever-present and judging by the choice of tunes the film is supposed to be a succession of dramatic climaxes, one even bigger and bolder than the other. It's all a bit much, though the music itself isn't all that bad really. While definitely fitting is some scenes, it would've been better if De La Iglesia had incorporated some quieter moments, less driven by music and relying more on the superb visuals.

Luckily the acting is great, giving the film some extra depth and shine. Carlos Areces is superb in the lead, switching effortlessly between tormented clown and crazy madmen in between scenes. The rest of the cast is equally engaged, resulting in a remarkable set of vile, weird and dark characters. And while the film's characters retain their caricatural nature there is also something deeper than drives them, creating an interesting and rare duality, something quite unique to this specific film.

It's quite difficult to define a target audience for Balada Triste de Trompeta as there is something for everyone, but also many things that might put people off. People coming for the violence and action might not care for the underlaying drama and romance, people coming for the arthouse vibe might find the film a bit too shallow and direct at times. Whatever group you might put yourself in though, Balada Triste is worth checking out if only to experience it for yourself and to make up your own mind about this film.

Put Del Toro, Rodriguez and Jeunet in a blender, add some clown sprinkles and shake really well. Finish with a good handful of De La Iglesia magic and you have a film that might not appeal to everyone but sure knows how to make an impression no matter how much you effectively enjoy watching it. Balada Triste de Trompeta is impossible to compare to anything I watched before, and for that reason alone it deserves all the attention it can get.

It's hard to recommend this film in the sense that I don't know what the exact reactions of people may be. But this is a film that needs to be watched, if only so you can make up your own mind about De La Iglesia's clown epic. It's a technical marvel, an unearthly combination of pulp and arthouse and equally moving and entertaining without ever becoming cheap. A regular gem that deserves an appreciative audience. I'm sad to have missed this in cinemas, luckily there's a solid Spanish DVD/Blu-Rah release to fill that void. Absolutely recommended. 4.5*/5.0*

Don't miss the trailer, no subs required.

When I went to watch Reconstruction for the first time in theaters it were the numerous Lynch references that had drawn me to this film. And while the link between both is absolutely justifiable I'd be doing this film (and Christoffer Boe) a great injustice to just leave it at that. Over the years Reconstruction easily surpassed the work of Lynch and turned out to be one of my all-time favorite films.

Reconstruction is equal parts mystery and romance. Not only is this is rare combination of genres to be found in one film, the fact that Boe seems to have mastered both of them to staggering perfection and knows how to balance these two elements without losing their individual strength makes this film a rare gem indeed. Boe himself proved that this is not just a lucky one-off either, as Allegro (his sophomore feature) boasts similar perks.

In Reconstruction Boe plays a game with his audience, but he plays it fair and square. The films start with the message that what we are going to see is all just film, a simple setup to entertain and move. Knowing that, the enchantment of film should be powerful enough to still make us care in the end. I've watched this film at least five times now and can't help but conclude the same thing as Boe, no matter how many reminders are given: it's all just film, but in the end it hurts just the same.

Reconstruction follows the story of Alex, a young photographer who falls in love with another women (both women are played by Bonnevie). He chases her down the subway and ends up spending the night with her. Still uncertain of what to do next, life choses for him as reality and fantasy start to mingle and leave Alex confused and alone. His home is gone, none of his friends remember him and even his father rejects him. With nowhere else to go, he turns to the one woman that followed him through the reality shift.

Reconstruction is clearly a film by a first-time director with a vision. This means Boe likes to flex his visual muscles from time to time, indulging in eye-catching filters and striking camera tricks. These moments are aptly timed though and in between Boe shows he can also impress when toning down the trickery, relying solemnly on framing, lighting and camera work. Add a grainy filter and the result is absolutely stunning to behold from start to finish.

The music is equally beautiful, but definitely not as daring. Boe goes for accessible and well-known classical pieces (most notable Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings), but he integrates them so well that it's hardly an issue. A good thing too because otherwise such choices quickly come off as cheap and disinterested. Boe's timing is impeccable though, actually giving new depth and meaning to these well-known pieces of music.

The acting too is absolutely perfect. Kaas is great as the bewildered Alex, Bonnevie does an equally impressive job with both of her characters. The chemistry between the both of them is almost tangible and is further enhanced by Boe's close-the-skin camera work. There aren't too many secondary characters, though Boe fans will definitely recognize Nicolas Bro from Boe's Offscreen.

While Boe's keeps a very constant level of high quality, there are still a couple of scenes that elevate themselves above the rest of the film. The introduction, the first meeting in the subway and the outro all ever stunning scenes, but the test of faith scene that serves as the film's dramatical climax stands as one of my absolute favorite scenes ever. All things great about Boe's work are brought together in that single scene that has defined this film for me from the very first time I watched it.

If you don't like to be reminded that you're watching a film you might find it a little difficult to become immersed in the world of Reconstruction, as it was clearly made to prove a point. And if you approach it as a straight-up Lynch clone you might end up feeling a little cheated as in the end Reconstruction isn't really all that complex. Get past that though and I can't think of many other things that might deter you from watching this.

Reconstruction is a warm, fuzzy and romantic film, set in a world of bewilderment and intrigue. It scores high point in every department and as long as you accept Boe's premise, it's almost impossible to find faults with it. It's absolutely recommended viewing and even though Boe proved his talent in his later films, he never really succeeded in surpassing this one. 5.0*/5.0*

Don't forget to see the trailer.

Last night I solved a problem that's been bugging me for years. It turned out the solution wasn't even all that difficult, yet somehow I never came across the correct implementation before and so I'd figured it just couldn't be done. To be honest, it made me feel quite stupid, at the same time it made me realize I'm probably not the only one struggling with this. So here's a blog post for all of you who've been trying to stack elements residing in different dom levels.

Vampires were supposed to be the new zombies, but apart from some flaky mainstream success the hype never really grounded itself amongst genre fans. This alone goes a long to explain why Sodium Babies has such a hard time to find the recognition is deserves, so set aside all your prejudices concerning the whole vampire hype thing and let yourself be dazzled by the raging talent the Decaillon brothers put so generously on display here.

What if ... what if Adam Wingard (Pop Skull), Frank Miller (The Spirit), Guy Ritchie (RocknRolla) and Jean-Pierre Jeunet (Micmacs) formed an unholy foursome, decided to adopt a child and taught that child everything they knew about cinema. Well, you'd get something that might look a little like Sodium Babies. It's the perfect debut effort, lacking the subtleties of a film made by a seasoned director but making up for those shortcomings with an unlimited amount of style and enthusiasm.

Sodium Babies will remind you in nothing of what you'd come to expect from vampire films. There's no room for oldskool romance and mysticism, no need for bloody fangs and barren mansions and not a hint of traditionalism. Sodium Babies is a modern adaptation of the vampire myth, transported to the marginal reaches of the criminal world and executed with so much flair and power that you'll be spinning around in your chair while trying to take in everything happening on-screen.

The film follows Dead Dog, a lowly ranked vampire henchman who provides blood for the top vampires and cleans up his own mess afterwards. His life consists of killing humans, sucking them dry and disposing them in various, untraceable ways. That is, until he gets caught up in a feud between his master and Gael, a recluse vampire who sees in Dead Dog the perfect tool to get back at the people who exiled him from the vampire clan. What follows is a mind-bending vision of Dead Dog's struggle to escape his doomed fate.

The film was developed over a period of five years, with the brothers doing most of the visual effects themselves. It just goes to show that with the right amount of talent on board a film doesn't need to cost a lot in order to look visually dazzling. Sure they go a little overboard from time to time and not every shot or effect is spot on, but watching Sodium Babies is a continuous feast of crazy editing, mad filters and creative camera work. It's a true visual assault that serves as the perfect illustration of their talent as well as providing some awesome eye-candy for the audience.

The soundtrack is just as eclectic and travels all over the place. It's far from perfect, but the way the Decaillon brothers handle the music still deserves some credit. In some scenes the score feels quite out of place, but even those moments contribute to the overall atmosphere of the film. In other scenes the score (and sound editing) fits like a charm. There's definitely potential here, the brother just need a little more control from time to time.

Dead Dog is played by Benoit Decaillon himself, making the dedication of the brothers even more remarkable. Benoit does a pretty good job in front of the camera too, though it's clear from this film that he didn't have much prior acting experience. I think the same could be said about the rest of the cast, but they still do a pretty commendable job in bringing their characters to life. Definitely not an A-grade cast, but they don't let the film down either.

The Decaillon brothers describe the experience of watching this film as being inside a washing machine. That's actually a pretty good summary of what you can expect from Sodium Babies. The film doesn't commit to just one style or one type of atmosphere. It bounces all over the place and tries to make the most of whatever situation in finds itself in. This makes the first 20 or so minutes a challenge, but once you accept the film for what it is it will reveal itself as a surprising source of wonder and joy that surpasses many other films out there.

If you want to whine and bitch there are no doubt an unlimited amount of things that you can bring up to trash this film. Sodium Babies is far from perfect, but all these imperfections are adequately countered by the brother's never-ending enthusiasm. It's exactly why I love these type of films, while not perfect they pack enough interesting bits and ideas to fill three of four "regular" films, leaving you with a sense that your invested time was well spent.

Sodium Babies feels like a film made by a duo who feared this was their single, one-time shot at becoming professional directors. The film is packed to the brim with great ideas and memorable scenes, it's a true testament of their talent, but at the same time it's also quite chaotic and a little bumpy. Whether this is going to be a problem depends on your own cinematic wishes and demands, but if you appreciate the vigor and effort the brother put into their work I am absolutely certain you're going to love this film to bits. Let's hope Sodium Babies film will find its audience on DVD, guaranteeing the brothers a chance at a second attempt. Definitely recommended. 4.5*/5.0*

Do check the trailer, it's worth it.

Last week Todd wrote a strong and honest piece on how the fan community is seen by the movie industry, sporting some impressive numbers that at least explain why we are considered low-priority. Yup, in the end it's all about cash and the rules of cold, hard economics. But then Todd went on to preach that we, hardcore film fans, should vote with our money in the hope to get noticed. While I actively support the positive message of this plea (support what you love), there is something I believe Todd is not telling us in his rant.

The web (the popularized version) has been around for about 15 years now but the film industry still isn't getting it, and in that process they lost sight of other, more consumer-oriented truths of cold, hard economics.

Hiroki Yamaguchi's Gusha no Bindume is as Japanese as a movie can be. Utterly drenched in cyberpunk and manga influences, the film is a sprawling testament of what a young film maker can accomplish with a shoestring budget as long as he has the talent and vision to make something unique. It's a shame we haven't heard from Yamaguchi since, but at least he left us with a very special legacy indeed.

If the name Gusha no Bindume doesn't ring a bell it might be because you know the film under a different title. As it dates back to a time when publishing companies were still very eager to bring Japanese films to the West (or at least, eager enough to pick up off-center titles like these), several different titles were thought up to release it here. And so the film is also know as Gusher no Binds Me, Hellevator and The Bottled Fools, all referring to this film.

Gusha no Bindume is a typical movie where holes left by a lacking budget are filled with creativity and inventiveness. From the start it's clear that Yamaguchi had few means to his disposal, at the same time he knows to impress with a varied range of tricks and creative alternatives that still managed to lend his film a professional shine. The same goes for the concept of the film. While basically a single-room setting film, there is always plenty happening and after a short while you'll hardly notice the fact that Yamaguchi cut back heavily on set designs.

The film is set in a dystopian future, somewhere inside a large and all-encompassing structure. We follow Luchino, a troubled young girl fleeing from an explosion she caused by illegal smoking. She runs inside an elevator trying to escape the authorities, but halfway through her escape the elevator is brought to an emergency stop in order to pick up two top ranked criminals on their way to their final resting place. Things get hairy and before the passengers realize it the elevator is cut of from the main system and left in the hands of the two criminals. And as it turns out, the other passengers riding the elevator each have their own secrets to hide.

Visually there is a lot going on here. Yamaguchi makes good use of whatever means he has, resulting is strong lighting and camera work, subtle use of the right visual filters, inventive production design and one or two scenes that go all out. There are two or three CG shots that feel lacking, but are still needed to give a better idea of the overall setting our characters live in. These moments are easy to overlook though as they don't last long and the budgetary limitations of the film are plain and obvious.

The soundtrack consists mostly of electronic-influenced background music. While pretty decent and fitting the actual music is a little too generic for my tastes. The sound editing on the other hand is a bit groovier, especially when the convicted criminals enter the elevator and one of them starts talking backwards. A simple yet creepy effect that gives a lot of extra shine to his dialogs. It's clear that Yamaguchi is a product of the post-processing generation, but he sure handles his techniques with commendable flair.

Gusha no Bindume is a film that builds on stereotypes and so the actors don't have too much work beyond acting out the character's typical hooks. The cast is well-fitted for the job though, the two criminals in particular are regular whack jobs that liven up the film considerably from the moment they are introduced. No point in expecting deep-digging performances of course, but keeping in mind the kind of film this is the acting is neigh perfect.

Considering the film is mostly restrained to one single elevator room, it's amazing to see how vivid and lively Yamaguchi's vision of the the Gusha no Bindume universe turned out. Through the characters that enter and leave the elevator room we get a good idea of the kind of strange world these people live in, while at the same time obscuring most of the daily going-ons of that same universe. Our vision of this universe is restrained to a single elevator room, which adds a smart level of intrigue and mystery while still allowing us a glimpse of the cool stuff happening outside.

Many of the elements that make Gusha no Bindume such a cool film can be linked back to other films, but the combination of all these separate elements blended together still results in something highly unique with lasting appeal. It's easy to call the film a Cube clone or a live-action manga, but whatever link you try to make you'll always end up with the conclusion that it won't do justice to Yamaguchi's hard work.

Gusha no Bindume is Japanese low-budget sci-fi cinema at its finest. What Yamaguchi lacks in budget he makes up in inventiveness and creativity. The result is a highly entertaining film that contains plenty of treats to keep you interested throughout. Discovering Yamaguchi's universe is an exciting trip through a Japanese cyberpunk-influenced wonderland that leaves you begging for more. Hopefully Yamaguchi will find the strength to work on a follow-up feature, if not I'm still extremely happy he was able to complete this film, hopefully creating a worthwhile legacy with an appreciative cult following. 4.5*/5.0*

Don't forget to check the trailer.

In case you hadn't noticed yet, this week two separate articles appeared on Smashing Magazine related to semantic importance. One of them titled our pointless pursuit of semantic value, the other one pursuing semantic value. The contents of these articles speak for themselves and I don't plan on joining the discussion directly, I have two important observation to share though, which can be nicely bundled into my 2-in-1 rant on semantic value.

Welcome back to the wonderful world of Yoshihiro Nishimura (Tokyo Gore Police, Vampire Girls vs Frankenstein Girl, Mutant Girls Squad). The most famous particle of the Sushi Typhoon collective returns to the director's chair and once again delivers a film that blows all boundaries of decency, good taste and proper film making. And yet, the result is every bit as crazy and hilarious as you'd come to expect. With Helldriver Nishimura clearly nailed another future classic.

When Iguchi (The Machine Girl) and Nishimura took over the Japanese splatter scene they came up with a rather unique concept for their films. Over the years that concept hasn't changed too much, but the way they work within those self-imposed boundaries is still as creative and out there as when they first started out. Slowly their output is changing from unique, individual works to genre film making and while some of you might be disappointed by this turn of events, true fans will only show more appreciation for the seemingly endless imagination of the people involved.

Let's get one thing straight. Nishimura's films don't aim for perfection. On the contrary, if you're trying to find room for improvement there's probably an endless list of things that could've been better or could've used some extra clean-up work. Just know that this is clearly by design. In order to put in as much insane ideas and craziness as possible, other areas in the development process have to suffer. It's a fair choice that allows Nishimura to make the films he wants to make, on the other hand it does ask for a little extra investment from the audience to accept some sloppy execution from time to time.

The story of Helldriver finds Kika in a world divided by a big wall. On one side live the uninfected, on the other side lies a big wasteland crawling with zombie-like creatures, firmly under the spell of an obscure alien presence. While the Japanese government is somewhat reluctant to annihilate these zombies (trying to protect their civil rights and completely unaware of the real dangers), the zombie queen is gathering her troops to launch a massive attack to break out of their prison. And so Kika is sent on a mission to avert the looming danger, helped by a crew of novice zombie killers.

Visually speaking this film is quite tricky to review. Sure it's loaded with subpar effects (both real and CG), but sloppy as it may be, at the same time its also extremely functional and essential to the continuously high fun factor of the film. When a crazy sword zombie-creature is battling a car revving on two wheels, the CG might be lacking quite a bit, but it's obviously the only way a scene like that would have ever made it to the screen. Camera work, lighting and use of color are generally strong though, making the most of the limited means they clearly had to their disposal.

The soundtrack is every bit as chaotic. A silly mixture of Japanese folk music (not unlike Miike's Izo) and other, more generic action tunes mostly added for comedic effect. The soundtrack itself is not all that great, but considering its intended use it more than suffices. Usually I care a lot for proper use of sound and music in films, but these types of projects are clearly an exception.

Roughly the same can be said about the cast. Sure there are no A-class actors here and from time to time the acting can be quite shabby, at the same time the whole cast emits an immense sense of fun and enjoyment that more than makes up for their lacking capabilities. Everyone goes willfully over the top in portraying their characters, making it an ever bigger freak show than you could ever imagine.

Nishimura's Helldriver is of epic proportions. The film lasts a full 120 minutes which is quite long for nonsense like this. You would expect that Nishimura's ideas would start to dry up around halfway through, but against all odds he succeeds in keeping the film fresh and challenging from start to finish. The opening credits start 45 minutes into the film, the real fun only begins during the second hour. Surely the format is tried and tested by now, but the craziness Nishimura manages to pull out of his cinematic hat is still beyond belief.

As time goes by films like Helldriver will appeal to an increasingly smaller audience, speaking to people who appreciate the film for what it contains rather than for its novelty value. Compared to his previous films, Nishimura strikes a perfect balance between splatter and comedy in Helldriver, where his earlier films would sometimes lack one or the other. It's definitely not a horror film in the sense that it is supposed to be scary or haunting, at the same time it's not all just for laughs either and splatter fans get their share of the action.

Nishimura adepts can rejoice, Helldriver is up there with the best, sporting roughly two hours of madness, hilariously out-of-place social criticism and tons and tons of liters of blood. Surely you've seen it all before, but the creature design is still impeccable (zombie airplane) and some scenes simply must be seen to believed (the star alien commanding the zombies). It's true fan fodder and people not willing to engage in Nishimura's world will surely end up disappointed, but considering its uniqueness and stellar fun factor I can only hope Nishimura can keep this up for some time to come. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a hilarious trailer, mind the spoilers though.

Shinya Tsukamoto's Tetsuo is a landmark film, no doubt about it. It crawled up from its tiny, little, underground niche and wrestled its way up to become one of the must-see films for any loving film fan with a growing interest in Asian cinema. Surely it's not a film for everyone, but at the least you owe it to yourself to find out what Tetsuo does for you. As for me, it's still one of my top 10 all-time favorites.

Not only is Tetsuo a landmark film for Tsukamoto, cyberpunk cinema, Japanese cinema or even Asian cinema as a whole, it's also a personal landmark. A film that defined my taste in movies and turned me into a real film fan. Before Tetsuo I (like everyone else) watched movies from time to time, but just as a regular pastime. The first time I put the VHS in the recorder I needed four pauses to complete the film. I didn't like it much and understood very little of what Tsukamoto trying to do here. But the film didn't let go of me and not a week later I had seen it three times already and bombarded it as one of my absolute favorites. It never really lost that status since.

Tetsuo was one of the first films I watched that didn't occupy itself too much with direct storytelling and character development (though in a sense it's the physical character development that makes it such a cool film), rather it tries to convey a more abstract experience of the material it presents. There's hardly any dialogue and what plot there is, is simple and juvenile, but Tsukamoto uses that void to put a lot more focus and attention on the way you experience his film.

The story makes little actual sense but should be quite easy to follow even when you don't have proper subtitles available. When one day a man crashes into a street bum with his car, he disposes of him quickly before getting caught. When he wakes up the next day though, he finds himself turning into a metal mutation, spawning tubes and wires from all over his body. To make things worse, he is being stalked by a metal fetishist showing a lot of interest in his barren situation.

Above all, Tetsuo is a visual experience. While it's low-budget roots are obvious, the lush, high-contrast black and white visuals hide many of the imperfections and help tremendously in giving everything the needed metal shine. The cinematography is overall impressive, but it's definitely the live stop-motion sequences that will leave the biggest impression. Manically edited and frantically paced, they define this film. And even though Tsukamoto owes quite a lot to the prior work of Sogo Ishii (August in the Water, Electric Dragon 80.000V), he definitely improved on it and made it his own.

Another crucial element in the whole Tetsuo experience is Chu Ishikawa's soundtrack. In line with the metal theme of the film, Ishikawa opted for a strong and fitting industrial score. Clanky sounds are assembled and structured to create a unique and immersive ambient soundscape, from time to time ruptured by strong, pounding beats. The sync between audio and visuals is also impeccable, even by today's standards.

The acting shows definite signs of Tsukamoto's high energy theater background, but considering the style of the film this is perfectly acceptable. The world of Tetsuo is as alien as the wild and broad expressions of its characters. Tsukamoto and Fujiwara (producer of Tetsuo and also director of Organ and ID) take the biggest roles, together with Tomorowo Taguchi who properly launched his career with this film. A very powerful actor with a broad range, able to play anything from metal mutant to creepy pervert (Hiroki's M, right down to docile friend (Hiroki's It's Only Talk).

Tetsuo is a film that weighs on you. Many people complain that even though it's only 70 minutes, the second part is too long and should've been trimmed. I don't agree (at all), as this is exactly why Tetsuo is such a great film. Halfway through you're ogling the screen wondering how and if it can get any weirder, crazier and more hectic. The second part goes on to illustrate just that. As the film continues it becomes more abstract and alien, working up to a perfect climax that still knows to blow my mind. Some of the grainy, black and white shots near the end are so vague and weird that it's almost impossible to see what exactly is going on, but the overall effect remains.

It's hard to predict how people watching this now for the first time will experience Tetsuo though. Ever since its initial release more films followed in its footsteps, sporting bigger budgets and better technical stats. The film does show its age, but at the same time it remains unique enough to transcend its dated exterior, where others (like Eraserhead) are starting to lose some of their initial shine.

But no matter what you think after watching this film, Tetsuo is quite simply a must see for everyone with the least bit on interest in films that dare to be different. It's an almost perfect cyberpunk endeavor, sporting lush visuals, a great soundtrack and providing a nerve-wrecking experience. In all these years I still find it as bold, daring and impressive as the second time I watched it, having lost little to nothing of its initial impact. It belongs firmly in my top 10 lists of favorite films and probably will remain there for some time to come. Absolutely recommended. 5.0*/5.0*

Check out the trailer for a quick preview of the madness that lies within.

I've never been a big fan of animation in css (and I still have my doubts), but when it comes to purely presentational animation I feel it has a sound purpose. Used sparingly and in a way that enhances user feedback, I feel it can give your site a more polished edge. With the current redesign I've been experimenting left and right, but one thing I found lacking is support for background (image) transitions. Not satisfied with this obvious void I tried to find some ways around.

The last redesign of my blog dates back to 2010, which in web terminology is somewhere between the birth of Christ and the Middle-Ages. For those of you who remember, I experimented with live iterative design, taking on pages and components one by one and gleefully accepting the mess it created in between. With 2012 looming before me, it's time to do some much-needed clean-up work and some minor touch-ups left and right, so brace yourself for a new period of live updates.

The Japanese cyberpunk genre isn't that richly populated (understatement), and to make it worse many releases are almost impossible to find here in the West. A real shame because it's without a doubt one of my favorite genres out there. Tsuburo no Gara is one of the prime examples of Japanese underground cyberpunk cinema and so it deserves some extra time in the spotlights. In short: strap yourselves for 70 minutes of concrete, metal and moist.

Before you get too excited, I should warn you that there is no DVD or Blu-Ray out there with English (or any other language for that matter) subtitles. I was lucky enough to catch this film at the Dejima festival in The Netherlands a couple of years ago, but I haven't heard from it since. There isn't even an official DVD or poster (the one shown here is a fan poster), only a combined release on a PFF (Pia Film Festival) collection DVD.

While the film is quite low on cyber and actual punk, it does carry many of the stylistic traits of the genre, most notably the almost fetishistic way of focusing on specific details. Director Masafumi Yamada will swamp you in close-ups of moist skin, concrete walls, black misty puddles and a strange fascination for snails, creating a very tense and claustrophobic atmosphere in a mere 70 minutes.

My DVD doesn't have English subtitles and it's been quite a while since I watched the festival version, so the details of the story have faded a little since then. But the gist of the setup is still pretty clear. A man and woman wake up in a concrete structure, not knowing where they are or how they got there. The woman is a nurse, the man a patient with a rather peculiar metal structure strapped to his back. While they try to escape from their concrete prison, flashbacks reveal the true nature of the patient's illness. It's a simple setup, but cyberpunk cinema has never occupied itself too much with complex themes and storylines.

Visually I'm very much in two minds about this film. On one hand it's a beautifully shot movie, with much attention paid to composition, lighting and editing, sporting some impressive play of light and shadows. Every frame is impressive and clearly thought through, bathing in grey and green hues, turning the drab, concrete settings in a cyberpunk wonderland. Sadly the entire film is shot in 4:3, which, I'm sorry to say, is ugly as hell. While the images themselves are impressive and captivating, they feel cramped and somehow unfinished. No doubt it's somewhat of a personal preference, but a wider image would've done much more justice to the work of Yamada.

The soundtrack consists mostly of ambient sounds, structured or woven into hidden melodies and rhythms. Actual music (as most people will know it) is rather scarce (and of the minimal, experimental kind), but the entire film is set to the sounds of clanking metal, thumping concrete and falling water drops, so there's always something to listen to. Great stuff, not too original considering the genre it resides in, but still a welcome variation on the more crunchy and industrial-oriented noise that usually sits under these kind of films.

The acting is sufficient, especially for a film that isn't necessarily all that character-oriented. The male lead reminded me a little of Tsukamoto and was clearly the best actor of the bunch, the female lead played her part with adequate conviction. As for the secondary cast, there are only a few other characters featured in the film, but considering their lacking screentime they are hardly worth discussing.

If you're worrying about watching this film without subtitles, you should know that even though the dialogue is kept to a minimum, you will still miss some of the finer details of the story. The main concept is clear enough though and whatever weirdness there is exists within the film itself and is not a result of the lack of translation. In the end, you shouldn't have too much trouble understanding what is going on, then again Tsuburo no Gara relies more on atmosphere and tension anyway.

When comparing it to other films out there, I noticed that Tsuburo no Gara shows quite some similarities to Tsukamoto's Haze (which it predates by a year). While the first part is quite claustrophobic and direct, the ending reveals a more symbolic interpretation of the film's events. Both films release their main characters back into the real world, freeing them from their inner contraptions and shedding a different light on what happened before.

Tsuburo no Gara is first-grade cyberpunk cinema. Not as overly energetic or chaotic as its peers, rather it creates an eerie, claustrophobic atmosphere and drags you deeper into its concrete prison with each successive scene. Sporting a stunning setting, strong cinematography and a superb soundtrack, cyberpunk fans owe it to themselves to seek this one out, even when there are no suitable subtitles available. I promise you won't regret it. Absolutely recommended. 5.0*/5.0*

No so much a trailer, but here are the opening minutes of the film.

In the wake of other Asian countries, Thailand lived through a small yet vivid period of international interest at the start of this millennium. Some very fresh and unique films reached our shores because of that, of which Mah Nakorn is definitely one of the most impressive and memorable. Mah Nakorn put Wisit Sasanatieng on the map and even though he made some other interesting films, none of them has been able to match the magic of this one.

While Sasanatieng's Tears of the Black Tiger proved to be a little too inaccessible for most people, he improved himself considerably when he released Mah Nakorn (Citizen Dog). While stylistically just as kitschy and in-your-face as his first, Mah Nakorn exists well outside the realm of typical genre films, which apparently had a big impact on the expectations of people seeking out this film. The fact that it is quite difficult to compare Mah Nakorn to other films out there also helped to relieve people of their initial preconceptions. There is definitely a bit of Amélie-inspired magic in here, but apart from that it's a film that stands completely on its own and doesn't invite many other comparisons.

Mah Nakorn doesn't really stick to a well-defined storyline. We follow Pod and Jin and their evolving relationship, but along the way the film diverges in several little side stories, introducing a range of secondary characters and plot lines that have little to do with the main story arc. It sometimes feels as if Sasanatieng had a bunch of great ideas for shorts, but instead of taking the short film route he tied all those ideas together to his two main characters and made a unique film with all the material he had gathered.

The world of Mah Nakorn definitely looks like ours, but it has its own, random set of rules. People are able to swap fingers, they can grow tails, teddy bears are able to talk and sometimes it rains helmets. And that's just a small selection of the weirdness this films throws at you. None of these things are ever properly explained, they're just a part of the surreal world the characters inhabit and have to deal with on a daily basis. It's definitely part of the charm of Mah Nakorn, but as there is really no limit to what can happen it may be a bit tiring for some.

If there's anything that will stick with you after watching this film, it's the vibrant and contrasting colors Sasanatieng uses all over his compositions. Sure it's kitsch and at times it looks as if God's brush slipped and he didn't have time to correct his errors, but at the same time it gives the film an unflinching charm that goes very well with the humorous tone. There's quite a lot of CG used to create the wacky world of Mah Nakorn, technically it's not always up to par but it does result in some beautiful scenes and it somehow fits with the comical feel of the film.

The soundtrack is pretty awesome too. A combination of classical and modern Thai pop songs, it gives the film a very alien atmosphere. People who are used to listening to Thai pop music might experience this differently of course, but for me it all sounded quite outlandish. The music is also used to great comedic effect, case in point the hilariously off-key lipsync in the introductory minutes of the film.

The acting is decent, but it must be said that most actors have a pretty easy job here. Sasanatieng does most of the hard work making the comedy work, the actors are little more than mere puppets walking around in Sasanatieng's meticulously crafted world. The same goes for the secondary characters who have even less to do. They all fit their roles though and the acting is never second-grade, nor does it ever take away from the overall experience of the film.

If you don't like narration in films, mind that there is quite a lot of that here. Great little detail though: the narration is done by none other than Pen-Ek Ratanaruang (director of Nymph and Ruang Talok 69) and he does a pretty commendable job. The monologues are witty and well-written too, on top of that I actually quite like narration in films (if done well of course - no Morgan Freeman please).

In essence Mah Nakorn is a romantic comedy, but that label doesn't even begin to describe the vibrant, unique, funny and creative film that Sasanatieng whipped up. The film is filled to the brim with great ideas, properly executed and acted out with so much enthusiasm that it's definitely one of the best comedies I've ever seen. And even though the story itself might be rather detached and fragmented, the romance between Pod and Jin still survives all these typical hardships.

If you're looking for something light-hearted, fun and visually exuberant then Mah Nakorn is your film. It's a lovely little comedy with a lot of heart, a lot of warmth and plenty of interesting and original ideas. It might be a bit random and episodic at times, but if you can look past that you might be in for a very pleasant surprise. And if all else fails, you can still amuse yourself trying to comprehend how Sasanatieng came up with all these crazy color combinations. Warmly recommended. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a trailer, subs and everything. Mind the spoilers though.

Masanori Tominaga's The Pavillion Salamandre just came out of nowhere. It went by completely unnoticed on its initial release, the addition of Jo Odagiri being the only hook that put this film on the radar of a select few in the West. Looking back after watching the film, it's not difficult to see why they didn't even bother to promote it over here, but that shouldn't stop you from seeking it out when you have the chance. The experience alone is worth the gamble.

If the name Tominaga sounds familiar, it's because I've written several reviews for Mai Tominaga's films (Wool 100%, Rinco's Restaurant) in the past. While I haven't been able to figure out any clear connection between the two directors, judging from their respective styles it wouldn't surprise me in the least if there was some kind of family connection between these two. Even though the both of them make very distinct films, there is a certain familiarity to their output that links them together.

The Pavillion Salamandre is one of those film that isn't overly weird, but manages to create an off-key atmosphere that lasts an entire film. Strange dialogues, quirky characters and unnatural plot twists make for a very fun and intriguing whole. Chances are of course that Tominaga's style won't suit you, if that's the case then this will no doubt be a horrible trial to sit through. But if it does somehow manage to stick, The Pavillion Salamandre is a film that will stay with you for a long time to come. It's a gamble, but definitely worth the risk.

The story is difficult to capture in a few lines, but I'll give it a shot anyway. Central to the story is Kinjiro, a strange and famous salamander whose pond (and whose very existence) is a national landmark. Roentgenologist Hoichi is chased and eventually hired by some suspicious-looking guys to examine the animal and determine its authenticity. What Hoichi doesn't know is that he's being used as a tool in a long-lasting feud between the Kinjiro foundation members. And if you think this sounds random already, it's only the beginning of the story.

Visually Tominaga's film is a little inconsistent. Some scenes look really wonderful, with much attention being paid to the camera work, composition and color. Other scenes look a bit plain and have a rather rushed feel hanging over them. It's a shame because the potential is definitely there and some scene are genuinely impressive. Maybe it was a budget-related issue, maybe it's because this was Tominaga's first film or maybe Tominaga just didn't care enough to keep it consistently fresh. Whatever the case, I feel more could be done visually.

The soundtrack on the other hand is first class material. Ranging from stylish jazz to experimental lofi electronic, the score is a constant factor in undermining any chance of getting used to the film's quirky feel. It's a constant challenge that lends the film a very unique atmosphere and even though it's not always easy on the ears, it sure is a lot of fun. People who've watched 100% Wool might have a pretty good idea of what to expect.

The most recognizable actor of The Pavillion Salamandre is without a doubt Jo Odagiri. The man is often compared to Tadanobu Asano (scruffy appearance and a taste for off-key characters) and judging on his role here the comparison is easy to justify. Odagiri has his own flair though and uses it to great effect in this film. While Odagiri steals the show, Kashii turns in more of a sleeper hit performance. Not as visible or out there, but just as strong and powerful all the same. The rest of the cast is up to par, with everyone obviously very conscious of the type of film they're appearing in.

Halfway through Odagiri switches hides and transforms into some weird Italian stereotype. Things get gradually weirder and the coherence might be hard to find at times. While the film does wrap up nicely, you may wonder how Tominaga managed to cram in so much nonsensical plot lines. If you were planning on watching a captivating story with big emotional scenes, warm feel-good comedy and overpowering dramatical elements, better go somewhere else. The Pavillion Salamandre is an incoherent, strange and chaotic mess that challenges your suspension of disbelieve for its entire running time, but pays off in other areas.

It's definitely a difficult film to recommend. The film is virtually impossible to compare with other films, it has a very distinct flavor and doesn't really cater to any well-defined audience out there. But if you like a film that dares to be different, shows a lot of vigor and enthusiasm and manages to be quite funny and emotional through all the chaos, this is no doubt a film that should be high on your checklist. Great fun, unique and mesmerizing, but definitely not for everyone. 4.0*/5.0*

There's a nice trailer, no subs though.

Earlier this week I started reworking the html/css of my blog. Only two tags far in this endeavor I already got stuck. Creating a full-width visual row with centered content (to see what I mean, check my header) using only one structural element wasn't as easy as I had imagined. So I strolled the internet for solutions, what follows is a small summary of tips and tricks to accomplish this particular visual effect.

Earlier this year I gave less a little spin. Even though I had my reservations (and I must say they still haven't faded completely) I kept coming back to the less framework because it does make css3 development a lot easier. Every day usage turned up some new problems though, not so much related to less itself but to its somewhat limited development options, especially on Windows. Luckily a new tool was released yesterday to help us out a little.

Directors Yan Yan Mak (Hu Die) and Clement Sze-Kit Cheng (Gallants) team up for a film that dares to gives some extra shine to the Hong-Kong arthouse scene. Joining others like High Noon and Ex (both by Heiward Mak), this film once again strengthens my beliefs that Hong Kong is capable of a lot more than it dares to (mass)produce. Now if only films like Merry-Go-Round would get the proper international exposure, more of them would find the light of day.

Like it or not, but the Hong Kong movie scene is mostly treasured in the West for its abundance in genre film making. Sprawling martial arts epics, gritty police thrillers and some classy Triad action are all fan favorites and are easy to sell to the West. When it comes to arthouse/drama cinema though, there is a small but very noticeable emptiness. Other Asian countries like Japan, Taiwan and China have interesting drama releases queuing up year after year, digging up some decent Hong Kong drama/arthouse titles often requires a lot more effort.

Finding Yan Yan Mak behind a film like this was no real surprise, those of you who have seen Hu Die will definitely recognize his style. But seeing Clement Sze-Kit Cheng appearing on the director's list is something else. Gallants was a quirky and fun rehash of the martial arts comedies of yonder, none of those elements found their way into this film. Still, the duo obviously complemented each other pretty well and the result is both beautiful and captivating.

The film follows the lives of two women who meet each other for the first time in California. They both move back to Hong Kong a little while later, and without them knowing their lives appear to be closer connected than they could ever have imagined. This connection is formed by two men who link everything together and complete the rather complex setup. Merry-Go-Round is more of a show, don't tell kind of film, so piecing everything together does require you to keep focused throughout the entire running time.

When the film was finished I went to check for cinematography credits on IMDb right away. With All About Love and Love In A Puff Jason Kwan had some impressive credits to his resume already, but with this film he completely baffled me. Merry-Go-Round looks truly exquisite, each scene is beautifully shot and orchestrated to the tiniest detail. The lighting is quite simply sublime and the framing nothing less than perfect. I hope Kwam continues on this path as he clearly has much more to show to the world.

It's a shame the soundtrack wasn't really up to par. Merry-Go-Round features a nice (although very typical - think soft piano music) Asian drama score, but mixed with some lesser quality indie songs, all of them featuring English vocals. I assume it should underline the link with the California plotline, but the effect is less than stellar. Sometimes English-language tracks work in Asian films (think Ghibli's The Borrowers), but here they conflict with the unmistakable Asian arthouse vibe coming from the rest of the film. The result isn't bad per se, but it's obvious the soundtrack doesn't really fulfill its full potential.

Luckily the acting is as solid as ever. Teddy Robin Kwan remains an interesting and very recognizable actor, Miao puts in a stylish performance too. As for the youngsters, it's Koon that shines the brightest and also carries most of the dramatic weight of Merry-Go-Round. Chou is probably the weakest link, but only in comparison with the others. The four of them do a great job of acting out the many nuances between the different characters in the film and succeed in bringing their respective character to life.

Merry-Go-Round is a film that drifts by gently, but also manages to linger afterwards. There isn't a clear plot or dramatic hook you can look forward to, so people with an angsty plot fixation should take notice. We're just following a set of four characters whose lives are slowly intertwining, going through their everyday rituals trying to deal with the problems they encounter. There's no big pay-off at the end, just a small twist that puts some things in perspective, but doesn't bring any mind-shattering revelations. This is definitely not a bad thing, but not everyone will appreciate this.

Above all, Merry-Go-Round is an ultra-stylish drama with its heart in the right place. It's suited for people who don't necessarily need impressive plot lines or great emotional scenes to enjoy a drama film. To see such a film coming from Hong Kong is quite unique, but those of you who are familiar with modern Taiwanese dramas will probably see the similarities right away.

If only the soundtrack would've been a bit better, this film could have turned out to be a small masterpiece. For now, it's a warm, gentle and beautifully shot drama with a set of interesting characters that will guide you through the 120 minutes running time with deceptive ease. Hopefully many more Hong Kong films will follow in its footsteps, though looking at the poor international interest displayed for Merry-Go-Round I wouldn't bet on it. 4.0*/5.0*

Check the subbed trailer for a nice preview.

Not much has changed on my blog the last couple of months. I've been quite busy with work, my personal life and trying to provide continuous output, so little time remained for behind-the-scenes tinkering. Still, somewhere deep underneath all the layers of chaos I found some free time to reshuffle some data and make a new site section out of that. And so with considerable pride, I present to you the new, permanent Onderhond Movie Top 100.

With Matoko Shinkai (Hoshi no Koe) gearing up to present his latest film to the Western world, I figured it would be a good time to revisit some of his former glory. Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru is an exceptional piece of cinema and undoubtedly the film that introduced Shinkai to a broader audience. Four years after its initial release, it's still as remarkable as when I first watched it, having lost none of its splendor or power whatsoever.

Shinkai will forever remain the man that worked himself up from one-man animation team to high-profile anime director in just a few years time With each consecutive film Shinkai's team of contributors keeps growing, but even for a film featuring the technical excellence Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru does, the list of credits remains frighteningly short. Even though Shinkai clearly takes his time (3-4 year gaps between each film), it's pretty much remains impossible to comprehend how he manages to ever complete his films with such a small staff.

Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru is presented as a collection of three separate shorts. Each short represents a different phase in the relationship between Takaki and Akari and stands well on its own, but it did feel somewhat unnecessary to include ending credits for each short throughout the film. Especially when considering the overarching storyline and stylistic similarities of these shorts, as they form one solid, thematic whole. I would've liked it a little better if they had just edited the shorts as one film and added collective credits at the end of the film. Not that it matters that much, once the shorts start you'll be wowed plenty to forget such tiny mishaps.

Shinkai shows us Takaki and Akari, two best friends on the verge of becoming a couple. Once again distance plays a huge part in how the story unfolds, as they are forced to move away from each other, never fulfilling the promise of their relationship. As the distance grows between them, so do their memories fade away, but they never really forget about the unique bond they had between them. Each short follows a milestone in the healing process between Takaki and Akari, helping them to live their lives apart.

With Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru, Shinkai takes his visual style to the next level. He's always had the exceptional skill to draw the most amazing backgrounds and landscapes (and they're still absolutely fabulous here), but the character animation always seemed to suffer because of it. He finally fixed that, creating a perfect blend between the backgrounds and animated objects, making the overall effect even more impressive and realistic. Another strong point is the lighting and coloring, especially when the characters are bathing in the rays of the early morning/spring sun. Shinkai's visuals don't just support the atmosphere it his film, they actually define it.

The soundtrack is a bit more on the safe site. Easygoing piano music and soft tunes underlay the more abundant visuals. It goes very well with the mood of the film though, creating a warm and fuzzy atmosphere. Much has been said about the inclusion of a J-Pop track near the end of the film, but the more I watch this film the better I actually like Shinkai's choice. It might be a bit alien for audiences not used to this kind of music, but in the context of the film the song is actually pretty good. The voice acting is decent too, though a little on the sensitive side. Virtually every line is whispered or uttered as if very grave and important. In dialogue-heavy parts it can be a bit much.

For a Japanese drama handling hatsukoi (first love), Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru can be deceptively bitter at times. The visuals may be lush, the soundtrack soothing and the overall atmosphere calming, it does not mean that our two protagonists are facing an easy relationship. Shinkai often hints at certain events, only to reveal a darker, less rosy reality later on. Each of these moments is a little punch in the gut, though effectively hidden from plain sight. He repeats this structure in every short, and even though the film does end on a reassuring note, you can't help but feel a little down once the credits start rolling.

The final short, though the shortest, is definitely the most powerful of the three, freeing the viewers from their romantic preconceptions and serving them a taste of unapologetic reality. The first time I watched this film I was genuinely surprised by the bitter undertones, and even now it still baffles me how cold this film is below its warm and fuzzy exterior. Shinkai created a strong contrast between the underlying themes and the reigning atmosphere, resulting in an interesting challenge that still stands strong after multiple viewings.

Some people won't really pick up the film's bitter core, for them there are still the lovingly detailed visuals and the stunning atmosphere. Considering the small team that worked on this film, it's a miracle that it still succeeds in looking this technically proficient and overall wonderful. Byosoku 5 Senchimetoru is my favorite Shinkai, but it's clear he's still improving with each new film he makes. I'm eagerly awaiting his next project, but you could do worse than watching this film again, just to kill some time until his latest gets a Western release. Definitely recommended viewing. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a subbed trailer, so check it out.

Vital marks an important milestone in the evolution of Shinya Tsukamoto's (Tetsuo: The Bullet Man, Nightmare Detective 2) signature style. When it was first released the film seemed to divide fans and naysayers alike. And while I clearly recognize the obvious differences with his earlier projects, Vital still feels like a film that could not have been made by any other director. On top of that, it turned out to be one of my favorite Tsuka films to date.

The most obvious difference between Vital and Tsukamoto's earlier work is the film's affinity with nature. Tsukamoto's early films (ignoring his commissioned work for a minute) are known for their unmistakable urban vibe. Many of the key scenes in Vital play in some idyllic vision of nature, far away from all the skyscrapers and small, overcrowded streets. This change of setting, as trivial as it might seem at first, has a pretty big impact on the entire feel of the film.

Vital is also Tsukamoto's first film that plays more like a straight-forward Japanese drama. Sure there is plenty of Tsuka-styled weirdness, but nothing as direct or plastic as you'd come to expect from the man. No drill penises or men in strange cone-shaped headgear contraptions, Tsukamoto operates on a more symbolic level here. The film starts when Hiroshi wakes up in the hospital after surviving a car accident. His memory is gone, only small fragments of his former life have remained. Not really knowing what to do with his life, he starts his study to become a doctor from scratch, not remembering his earlier decision to completely abandon this career choice.

Though not a horror film, Vital probably contains the most direct form of body horror in any of Tsukamoto's films. Things get a little out of hand when Hiroshi starts his dissection classes and gradually realizes the subject he's working on is really his old girlfriend ... the one who didn't make it out of the car wreck. Rather than choke, Hiroshi continues his classes and actually starts remembering things about his past, all the while working his way deeper and deeper through the body of his late girlfriend. It's a morbid concept, but Tsukamoto handles it with remarkable maturity and class.

Visually the film can be split in two separate parts. There are the usual Tsukamoto antics like the car crash scene and the returning images of the smoking chimneys. Hectic, chaotic and madly edited, those scenes are obvious remnants of his trademark style. Then there are the scenes in nature, which emit a completely different vibe. More timid, focused on beauty and color and sporting a very loving and relaxing atmosphere. Both aspects of this film are splendidly executed and Tsukamoto make sure that the transitions between both parts are as smooth and yet as powerful as possible.

The music follows a very similar pattern. There are the more industrial-sounding pieces that go with the darker scenes, and then there are the ethereal, soft ambient waves that pop up when Hiroshi travels back to his natural paradise. Combined with the visuals Tsukamoto creates two entirely different atmospheres, heavily contrasting with each other but still forming a beautiful whole (call it a perfect yin and yang). As for scoring his films, Tsukamoto has never really disappointed me.

The acting is another element that differs greatly from Tsukamoto's earlier films. His own theatrical background has always played a big part in teh way characters were portrayed in his films. With big motions, extreme expressions and lots of vigor his characters moved through Tsuka's stories. In Vital he takes the opposite approach, more in line with other Japanese dramas. Tadanobu Asano, Nami Tsukamoto and Kiki all put in wonderful performances, slowly revealing the deeper layers of their characters as the film progresses. The secondary cast is equally strong, though I must admit Ittoku Kishibe gave me quite some trouble when I first watched this film. His role in Survive Style 5+ kept coming back to me, needless to say the image of a tweeting birdman doesn't really fit the atmosphere of Vital.

At the core of Vital lies an intriguing little puzzle. On the one hand Hiroshi tries to move on with his life, but the only way to accomplish this is by trying to make peace with his own forgotten past. He balances on a fine line between losing himself in some kind of fantasy world and getting a grip on his long lost memories. The fact that Hiroshi tries to do this by dissecting his late girlfriend's corpse gives the film an extra dimension, resulting in some beautiful yet morbidly poetic moments. One of which (the car crash immediately followed by the interior rock formation) belongs to my all-time favorite film scenes.

One final interesting element is the dance scene Tsukamoto included halfway through. Every since Sogo Ishii directed a stand-alone dance sequence in Dead End Run, other reputable Japanese directors have followed in his footsteps (Miike in Big Bang Love, Asano in Tori and Kitano in Takeshis' - maybe even Katsuhito Ishii in Taste of Tea). What sets these scenes apart is that they exist somewhat separately from the film. They feature modern/abstract dances set to scored music rather than real-life music. In a sense they resemble Oshii's trademark takeouts as they function as a little breather in between the regular scenes. The editing and camera work in Tsukamoto's version makes it one of the most captivating examples out there.

Fans of Tsukamoto might be a little surprised by the stilted acting, the strong dramatic undercurrents and the softer, more poetic scenes. In a sense this is a typical Japanese drama infused and enriched with plenty of Tsukamoto goodness. The result is haunting, morbid, poetic and beautiful all at once. So much that Vital became one of my favorite Tsukamoto films, combining two contrasting styles with the proper love and attention to keep the strengths of both alive. Definitely recommended. 5.0*/5.0*

Don't forget to check the trailer.

When Peter Chan (Warlords, Perhaps Love) announced he was making a new film called Wu Xia starring Donnie Yen, fans were beyond ecstatic. But before long it became clear that Chan wasn't making just another big budget martial arts flick, he was aiming for something a little different. The result is a beautifully produced, entertaining piece of detective work with some proper action thrown in for good measure.

Chan likes doing things a little different. Warlords wasn't just any ordinary war flick and Perhaps Love not just any other musical. With Wu Xia though, he went out of his way to trick genre fans into watching his latest film. The wuxia stamp is a collection for everything related to martial arts and considering this broader definition Chan's film has every right to call itself that. But the amount of action sequences that are usually assumed are mostly absent here, instead Chan sets up a neat little detective story. Not that the film is completely void of any martial arts scenes, but it's definitely not the main selling point of the film.

Chan follows in the footsteps of Tsui Hark's Detective Dee and focuses on the detective work rather than the action. After a short introduction where Donnie Yen kicks some very subtle ass (as to not to give away his cover), Takeshi Kaneshiro is sent on his path to investigate. In true Sherlock Holmes fashion he reconstructs the fight and quickly suspects Yen's character of hiding a darker truth. That there is more to Yen than meets the eye is clear from the beginning, actually uncovering his true identity proves to be a much more difficult task.

Most of the first part of the film is dedicated to the intellectual stand-off between Yen and Kaneshiro. Chan travels to the motions with style, not really delivering anything too original or mind-bending, but exploring the actions of both protagonists with proper depth and dedication. The second part of the film is a bit more action-oriented, though still not on the level of most other wuxia entries.

If there is one constant in Chan's recent output it's the consistency in visual beauty that can be found in his films. Wu Xia is definitely no exception, with wonderful framing, gentle camerawork and beautiful use of color from start to finish. Chan is aided by some stunning set pieces, most notably the flooded fields where Yen and his adversaries battle in the beginning of the film. Chan's style doesn't necessarily differ a lot from other directors working with similar means and within similar genres, but he still has a certain stylish edge that others seem to lack. Also notable are the many short animation sequences which add some extra flair to the film.

The soundtrack isn't the overload of classic Chinese music you'd expect from a film like this, there's actually a darker and more modern edge to the score. But even then, the music never really becomes part of the film and doesn't actually go beyond its simple purpose of delivering some background noise. It's not that the score is bad, it just kind of fades away with everything else that is happening onscreen. It's far from bad, never irritating or intrusive, but it just doesn't help the film forward either.

The acting on the other hand is very solid. Yen isn't a terribly gifted drama actor but here he sticks his neck out to prove he can do more than just swift punches and impressive jumps. He can definitely stand his ground against Kaneshiro, who's turning in one of his better performances in recent years himself. Both actors play with just the slightest hint of self-awareness, but never intruding with the serious business going on elsewhere in the film.

Wu Xia turned out to be a detective story with noirish impulses and a slight, light-hearted vibe to counter the gravity of the themes at hand. Throw in a couple of stylish martial arts scenes and you'll get an idea of the fine line this film tries to balance on. It's a miracle Chan succeeds in making it all work together without losing sight of the film's overarching atmosphere, but he pulls it off with grace an delivers a film that's stands very well on its own without being truly unique or challenging.

Once again, be prepared when going into this film as an avid wuxia lover, the actual martial arts (even though quality stuff choreographed by Yen himself) is restricted to only a few scenes throughout the film. The first half of the film is quite slow with many scenes retracing the steps of Yen and Kaneshiro pondering endlessly on Yen's possible background. The pacing picks up in the second half of the film, but even then it's still quite timid compared to genre standards. Get past the idea that you're going to see an action film though, and what follows is just as good as what any wuxia film can deliver.

It makes me wonder if between Detective Dee and Wu Xia (and of course the resurrection of Sherlock Holmes) enough momentum is created for other films to follow in their footsteps. It could very well be that we'll be seeing a few other high-profile detective stories in the near future. Chan's attempt is definitely a good start, sporting high production values, a classy and stylish atmosphere and a strong mix of varied genre elements. It might drag just a little in the middle, but apart from that it's well worth checking out and easily the best of the three films mentioned above. 4.0*/5.0*

Check out the (unsubbed) trailer for a nice preview.

Electric Dragon 80000V belongs on the list of films that created a small yet fanatic niche for Japanese movies at the start of this millennium. It's guerrilla film making at its craziest, bringing some of the brightest talents of modern Japanese cinema together to create something highly unique. Definitely not a film for everyone, but if you've got the least bit interest in Japanese punk cinema, you simply cannot miss out on this one.

Sogo Ishii (August In The Water) made quite a ripple in the international (underground) film scene with this film, especially when he literally blew the speakers at a high-profile film fest (I believe it was Rotterdam) when showing his film there. Legend goes that Ishii himself kept asking to raise the volume, wreaking havoc on the people who just wandered in to watch an off-beat Japanese genre film. Then again, it's always best to go into an Ishii film at least a little prepared, so they had it coming.

Electric Dragon 80000V was shot in three mere days, with a minimal crew and minimal concept. It's punk cinema at its wildest, tackling a simple concept head on and making the absolute most of it. The film is carried by punk formation MACH-1.67 (a collaboration between Tadanobu Asano and Sogo Ishii himself) who used the film as background visuals during their live concerts. Most of the film was realized by Ishii and Asano (going from soundtrack to editing, acting and even calligraphy), only aided by that other Japanese acting phenomenon, Masatoshi Nagase, playing the villain in this film.

The story is almost too stupid and shallow to summarize, but I'll give it a shot anyway. Dragon Eye Morrison is a lizard detective who got electrocuted at a very young age. Ever since he's been electrically charged. The electricity never really left his body, but through the years he learned to cope with his rather unique condition. He is sought out by another electro-nutcase, Thunderbolt Buddha, who seems to believe there's only room for one electrically-charged human being on this planet. Buddha tracks down Morrison only to infuriate him, resulting in an electrified final battle. Now, if you believe this paragraphs contains too many spoilers, let me assure you that this is hardly relevant when watching the film.

Visually the film owes a lot to the likes of Tetsuo and Eraserhead. Gritty, high-contract black and white cinematography add a stylish shine, some clever shots and camera angles do the rest of the work. Most of the visual effects seem to be hand-drawn (think lightning/beam effects from the 60s Kaiju films) but thanks to the sharp black and white cinematography they still manage to integrate quite well. For a film that was shot in only three days, Electric Dragon looks remarkably dashing and attractive.

The score ... well, I may not be a big fan of punk music and I probably wouldn't listen to it outside the context of this film, but this is the perfect example of how to do a freakin' music score. It's loud, aggressive and shamelessly in your face. It also helps that the score features a heavy dose of distortion and noisy touches, which is a bit more up my alley. There's a perfect synergy between visuals and music, creating an atmosphere that makes you tingle all over. Or shudder in disgust, if you really can't take this kind of music. It's a big shame I never experienced this film in a live movie theater, it must've been a pretty unique experience (at least, as long as the speakers didn't die on you halfway through).

Aoart from two short scenes, there are no secondary actors present. Asano and Nagase carry the film all by themselves. No sweat for these guys though, you can see they feel very much at ease handling this kind of silly material and they really give it their all. They bring both characters to life and even though there's just very little in the way of background story or actual character development, by the time they face each other in battle there's a healthy, sparkling tension between the both of them.

Electric Dragon 80000V is all about the fun, there's not a serious moment to be found. The dialogues are completely nonsensical ("Conserve electricity!"), the story is staggeringly whimsical and the pacing is as random as can be. It's pure comedy gold without the actual laughs and punchlines, mixed with a lavish punk-drenched finishing coat. If you expect anything more from this film you will surely be disappointed, then again, why would you expect anything more if it executed this well?

As to how this films compares to other (Japanese) (cyber)punk film, I believe it somehow found its own little niche within the genre. It's definitely not as zany or chaotic as Tsukamoto's Tetsuo, there are a few passages where Ishii drops the pacing a little and allows the audience a little breather. Visually it looks very impressive, but without the raw, ultra low-budget edge of other peers (think Fukui's films). Where it really shines is when music and visuals come together to hijack the film from it's simple storyline, just to bring you something that is truly unique and memorable. There are only a few films out there that dare to place this much focus on their music and I am pleased Ishii/Asano were ready for the challenge.

With only 55 minutes between start and finish, Electric Dragon 80000V is a quick watch. That said, if you don't appreciate what Ishii is doing here it might still feel like a two hour hell. If you don't mind the raging soundtrack, silly storyline and black and white visuals though, it's a film you can watch over and over again without ever getting bored of it. Definitely one of the best films Ishii ever made and one of the films he will be remembered for. 4.5*/5.0*

Not convinced yet?, check out the trailer.

One of the main challenges of a html guy is coming up with proper ways to name different components. How you plan to do this is beyond the scope of this article (using your own class names, microdata or microformats are all valid options), but the actual act of naming them is something that deserves some extra attention. For me it's a realization that grew over time and one I had to figure out on my own, as little is written about this topic. So here goes.

If you're planning to expand your expertise on Belgian films, Rundskop would probably be your first and most obvious bet. Live a little, take a risk and bet on Cannibal instead. Viré's Cannibal may not be as accessible as Rundskop but it packs a lot more skill, punch and raw power. Just don't go in expecting a mere genre film, Cannibal transcends its own roots and delivers a completely unique experience.

For a few years now there's been a constant stream of quality genre-defining films coming from Belgian soil. Films like Ex Drummer, 22 Mei, Calvaire, Vinyan and Small Gods mark the top of this like-minded series of films. You can see it as an extension of the French movement that started a little more than 10 years ago (led by people like Gaspar Noé, Philippe Grandrieux and Claire Denis). Dark, gritty and uncompromising films that dare to be different, but each in their own unique way.

Cannibal starts off as a pretty normal genre flick. Set in Wallonia, the Walloons (the French-speaking people in Belgium) are once again depicted as creepy, weird and twisted recluses living in their secluded forests (much like Calvaire). The film introduces Max, a scruffy-looking guy who avoids most human contact, especially that of the physical kind. His world changes when he finds a barely clad girl lying in the forest. Not knowing what to do with her, he takes her home.

In no time Max finds himself in love with this girl, but things aren't particularly going well between the two of them. When she sneaks off one night, Max follows her only to find the girl covered in blood, feasting on another human being. You would think this would cool Max' love for the girl, but apparently he feels quite at ease with her condition as he starts helping her to trap other victims. What Max doesn't know is that there are others looking for the girl.

Cannibal is a dark and gritty-looking film. Most of the camera work is hand-held, but the good, controlled and visually impressive kind. The film can be quite dark too, with some scenes eclipsing everything but some faint light sources. The framing is nothing less than excellent though and Viré knows exactly where to the camera needs to be at crucial moments. In the last half hour the film makes a surprising switch to high-contrast black and white photography, making it look even more beautiful.

But as impressive as the visual side of Cannibal might be, it's the soundtrack that really blew me away. Dark drones, distorted sounds and industrial touches all come together to create a very tangible, uneasy atmosphere. Viré really blows the roof off when he mixes a gut-wrenching scream into one of the musical pieces, together with the chaotic cinematography and gory images this particular moment comes as close to a waking nightmare as you can possibly image. Cannibal is one of those films that underlines the power of a strong, captivating soundtrack, more than once illustrating its vital part in the whole atmosphere-building process.

The acting too is impressive. Gob and Coppejans do a great job translating their impossible relationship to the screen, portraying the hardships of an unlucky couple trying to deal with their problems. Secondary roles are good too, most notably the appearance of Philippe Nahon (somewhat of a quality marker) near the end of the film. For a film that relies mostly on audiovisual impulses, the acting is surprisingly strong and consistent.

While the first hour still holds on to typical genre elements, Viré turns his film around in the last half hour. Don't expect a gory finale, when the film goes in black and white mode it makes a complete u-turn to end up as an urban crime-drama (more than once did I think of La Haine). It's a strange, somewhat unnatural switch, but even though it feels a little forced it still works remarkably well. While I was still hungering for more horror goodness, I quickly realized the second part was just as impressive.

The biggest problem with Cannibal is that title and cover art suggest a simple genre film, while Viré's film is way more ambitious than that. If you're just watching it for a quick gore/scare fix, you won't find much here. There's a definite feeling of dread and unease running through the film, but halfway through it abandons that for something entirely different. There's hardly any gore, hardly any suspense and no big horror finale, so be warned before getting your hopes up.

Cannibal is definitely my kind of film. Incredibly atmospheric, uncompromising and unique. There is still room for improvement, notably the switch in the middle could've been a little less harsh, but those are just minor complaints compared to the feeling of awe that the film left behind. I hope Viré gets the critical appreciation he deserves, Belgium needs directors like him to raise the bars for others to come. Must see. 4.5*/5.0*

Awesome trailer, check it out.

Some films know to impress with just their simplicity. They don't need a complex storyline, personality-changing dramatic events or elaborate soul-searching analogies to get their message across. Kitagawa's Halfway is no doubt one of those films. Shelve all your expectations of anything big, tragic or epic and let yourself be swept away by the beauty of the smaller, seemingly insignificant things in life. Halfway won't disappoint you.

First love in highschool must be one of the most popular topics in (light-hearted) Japanese dramas (think Ishikawa's Su-ki-da). Even though the Japanese school system is often considered as one of the toughest and competitive in the world, films like Halfway always end up highlighting the finer periods of Japanese school life. Love confessions and people just chilling on fields of grass near some idyllic rivers, and of course plenty of blue skies with puffy clouds. It's all in here.

Not all that surprising if you know the script was co-written by Shunji Iwai. The final result is less dreamy than Iwai's own films, Kitagawa made her film a bit more down to earth, but his influence on the script is still clearly visible. The setup is pretty simple: Shu and Hiro are two young kids experiencing first love (the fluffy and completely innocent kind mind). The most thrilling act of love is holding each other's hands, the rest of it mostly involves hanging out out in real life or on the phone.

The main dramatic thread lies with Shu moving away to enter a Tokyo-based college. Hiro fears this will be the end of their relationship and blames him for starting something with her when he knew about this even before they got involved. Through the course of the film they try to figure things out, though rest assured that it never amounts to anything more than simple arguments and minor bursts of uncertainty that come and go as quickly as they are introduced.

Kitagawa reinforces the cliché that female directors usually deliver less stylized films. The camera work in Halfway feels pretty free and liberated, which translates nicely to the film's characters. It's not as if no attention was paid to the film's looks though, Kitagawa chose some fitting and charming locations and includes a few well-timed moments where she plays with natural light. Personally I prefer hyper-stylized films, but it's difficult to argue that Kitagawa's style works in favor of the lighthearted drama.

As for the soundtrack, I don't really know what to think. While watching Halfway I was 100% sure Joe Hisaishi was responsible for the music. The score resembles Hisaishi's best work for Kitano's films (Kikujiro, Dolls) to the point where the music in Halfway almost sounds like a remake of Hisaishi's finest moments. This would still be somewhat acceptable if Hisaishi was actually responsible for the score, but apparently the music was handled by Takeshi Kobayashi (a Shunji Iwai regular). So while the music in Halfway is quite wonderful indeed, the aftertaste is just a little sour considering the lack of a unique sound.

The acting is solid and natural. Even though both Kii Kitano and Masaki Okada look like typical Japanese pop idols this film is definitely not just an ordinary promotion vehicle for upcoming pop stars. Secondary roles are also handled with the proper respect, only Hiroki Narimiya is an obvious miscast. He looks a little too young to play a teacher and he has a hard time removing that plastered, fake look from his face. I wasn't a big fan of him to begin with, but he looks quite out of place here.

Halfway is a template film for fans of the Japanese light-hearted high-school romances. Everything in this film feels natural, convincing and realistic. The result is a film that lacks epic drama and big emotions, but draws its strength from small scenes of joy, disappointment and happiness. If you think that watching two people wasting their time by the river in idle conversation is boring, this is definitely not going to be your kind of film.

Naysayers may also criticize the film for its flimsy moral and obvious life lessons, but the way Kitagawa handles the subject is anything but cheap. While it is true that the film holds very few shocking and/or deep revelations about relationships and life, Halfway is more about the reliving the experience than it is about walking away a little wiser. For people who have cut the ties with school life a long time ago, Halfway forms the perfect melancholy trip to a life that was much simpler (even though it didn't seem that way at that time).

In the end Halfway is a film primarily made for existing fans of the genre. It's a very good, solid entry in the genre but does little to cross any existing boundaries. It's a nice 90 minutes away from life's everyday troubles and it does a great job putting you at ease, as long as you can appreciate the small, delicate nature of the couple's blossoming relationship. I do still wonder about that soundtrack though, it can't be that I'm the only one that noticed the similarities between this and Hisaishi's work. Still, better to have a great Hisaishi rip-off that a bland and generic soundtrack. 4.0*/5.0*

Check out the trailer if you're still not convinced.

Patlabor 2 is the film that first defined Mamoru Oshii's trademark style. While most people came into contact with Oshii (Sky Crawlers, Tachiguishi Retsuden) through his first adaptation of the Ghost In The Shell manga, Patlabor 2 predates that film by two years and still holds all the key ingredients that made GitS into a world-wide success. And even today Patlabor 2 proudly stands its ground, having lost very little of its initial impact.

Oshii came a long way before he made this film. He started out working on series like Nils Holgersson and Madame Peppermint. In between he directed several feature films, each sporting their very own stylistic experiments, but none of them really connecting to form a encompassing whole. Patlabor 2 brought all these elements (philosophical meanderings, purely atmospheric cuts, politics, technical excellence and last but not least, dogs) together for the first time to create what could be considered a master template for all the high-profile films he would be making during the following ten years.

With his work on Urusei Yatsura Oshii already proved that he had few problems completely overturning the atmosphere of an existing series. Patlabor is a little different as Oshii had a big hand in the previous installments of the series, but it's plain to see that with Patlabor 2 Oshii was ready to break some new ground. While the original series and the first film still focused on the Patlabor squad as a whole, Patlabor 2 directs its full attention on chief Goto. The rest of the crew is still around, but only in minor, secondary roles.

That very shift in focus marks the first major break with the previous installments, as Goto has always been the most serious and pensive of the bunch. This character trait actually carries over to the film as a whole. It allows Oshii more time to dig into some political subtleties and to introduce a string of philosophical discussions and monologues. The story kicks off with a missile attack on one of the major Tokyo bridges. Goto is then approached be a government official to help capture the man behind the attack. He plays along, but feels there's more to it than the information that is fed to him.

From a technical point of view, Patlabor 2 still looks pretty impressive, even today. Characters designs are detailed, the animation is crisp and abundant and the mecha designs are still stellar. But one of the film's most distinct visual features is the character's remarkably pale skin tone, which is heavily contrasted by the use of dark, heavy shadows. It helps the characters to blend into the industrialized and mechanized, somewhat cold exterior of Tokyo as portrayed in this film. This atmosphere is further underlined by strong gray and blue overtones throughout the entire film.

Fans of Oshii will also notice the first appearances of some of his trademark shots. The inside view of a car traversing the highway by night, inside shots of a car when someone steps in or out, the reflections of scenes on buildings and their respective distortions, the distinct cut scenes that thrive on music and audio alone ...). It's clear that Oshii would repeat many of the visual tricks he tried to pull off in later films, but even these first attempts look damn impressive.

Another major asset of this film is the audio track. Patlabor 2 was definitely not the first collaboration between Oshii and Kenji Kawai, but it does feel like it was the first time they really found each other. Kawai composed some absolutely stunning music tracks which Oshii clearly realized upon receiving the score. Some scenes seem to be added with the sole purpose of doing justice to Kawai's music. The voice acting too is superb. Ryunosuke Obayashi is perfect in the role of Goto, sporting a soft, pleasant and soothing voice with just the tiniest hint of an audible smirk around the edges.

Oshii does very little to mask the philosophical undercurrent of this film. As Goto puts it quite well himself, Patlabor 2 is about the differences between a just war and an unjust peace and how these two are connected to each other. More on the surface level of the film we find a story about a one-man crusade, holding a complete country in his grasp with just a few well-planned tactical moves. Patlabor 2 is a game of political chess where Oshii demonstrates a very believable sketch of how one man can hold a nation hostage, called visionary by some (referencing 9/11). That's taking it a little too far if you ask me, but connections between the two can certainly be made.

But the most impressive scenes are those that are void of plot progression. The key scene of the film sees Goto floating around quiet industrial landscapes, reminiscing about war and peace, a monologue that is carried by the wonderful score of Kawai. A second scenes illustrates the occupation of Tokyo by the military, once again set to the soothing tones of Kawai's music. Clear front-runners of the landmark scenes in Ghost In The Shell (and Innocence), but already radiating Oshii's mesmerizing style.

While the ending of Patlabor 2 reaches back to its origins a little too abruptly, the rest of the film is A-grade Oshii material that should please fans of the man's work. It's an impressive tour de force, bringing a perfect mix of intriguing philosophy, a smart plot and stunning audiovisual stimuli. It's also the film where Oshii finally finds a personal style that would carry on through several future films and would begin to define him as a director. He never really succumbed to his signature style (keeping side projects like Mini-Pato or Tachiguishi), but it's obvious this film is a landmark in Oshii's oeuvre. 5.0*/5.0*

There's a nice trailer, not too many spoilers.

I'm all for using classes to add extra semantics. Even with stuff like html5 microdata around it's still the easiest and fastest way to make your code comprehensible to both machines (mostly theory though) and other developers working on your html. On the other hand it can put a serious strain on the guy responsible for the css. One particularly annoying problem has always been singling out base variants in css, so here's a quick rundown of the best way to do this.

After being blown away by Pop Skull, director Adam Wingard became an instant favorite of mine. It's obvious the man has plenty of talent, so I was quite curious to see where it would lead him next. While A Horrible Way To Die was made directly after Pop Skull, the two films are actually very different and are almost impossible to compare. That's not to say A Horrible Way To Die isn't worth your attention though.

Pop Skull was above all an audiovisual experience, in A Horrible Way To Die Wingard finds a better balance between abstract atmospheres, proper character development and plot progression. Whether that actually results in a better film is something that greatly depends on your own take on cinema. The film is not as in your face as Pop Skull and takes a little longer to engage, but in the end there is still a clever pay-off and Wingard definitely succeeds in getting a clear point across.

With A Horrible Way To Die Wingard seems to be making his take on Henry (Portrait Of A Serial-Killer). The thematic similarities and low-budget background of both films are obvious enough, then again that's where the comparison between the both of them should probably end. Wingard makes a more subtle, introvert observation of the serial killer stereotype while clinging onto a rawer, darker edge the entire running time. Wingard's killer is not a depraved individual harboring pure evil, rather a helpless young man battling his uncontrollable urges.

Garrick Turrell is a notorious serial killer that was put behind bars when his girlfriend found out about his secret nightly activities. When Turrell is transferred between prisons though he sees an opportunity for escape and instinct takes over. On the other end of the spectrum we find Sarah, a young woman recovering from her drinking problems and reluctant to uphold any serious social contacts. The two are destined to meet, but things are never as clear or easy as they seem.

While Wingard turns the strobes, glitches and other funky visual trickery down a couple of notches, that's not to say that he completely ignores the film's visual impact, on the contrary. Wingard plays a lot with focus, keeps his camera close to his characters and operates it as if slightly drunk. The camera sways through the film, shifting focus all the time, sometimes completely losing track of the main characters only to find them again a couple of seconds later. Add to that some stellar play with lighting and color and you have a film that deserves to be applauded for its visual identity, even if it's not as outspoken as in Pop Skull.

The soundtrack too is familiar territory for Wingard. A smart mix of more traditional film music blended with dark drones and moody ambient make for the perfect ambiance and add an admirable level of dread and uneasiness to the reigning atmosphere. Again the score is not as sharp or overly present as it was in Pop Skull, but as the director clearly puts more focus on the story here, it's a perfectly understandable choice. In the end it still beats many other films out there who try to do similar things with drones and soundscapes.

AJ Bowen takes up the role of serial killer and does so with great conviction. He is perfect for a man living on the verge of society, struggling with his own natural urges which turn him into a ruthless killer when push comes to shove. Swanberg and Seimetz take up the roles of the supporting characters. They do a pretty decent job but remain somewhat overshadowed by the presence of Bowen. Especially Seimetz fights to uphold the strength of her character, who from time to time seems to wallows a little too much in her own sorrow.

The film has little regard for telling its story in chronological order. Wingard isn't helping much either by upholding a consistent style and hardly giving any indications or clues when time jumps occur. Clothes and hairdos are the biggest giveaways, but apart from that he leaves it up to the audience to figure out the details. I actually appreciated this extra level of vagueness as it kept the story (which is rather basic) interesting throughout. People who want to know what's going at all times should know that all things are properly explained during the course of the film, but mind that you could still feel considerably lost in several individual scenes.

I still need to see Home Sick and You're Next, but it seems that Wingard is using his talent for horror to create films that transcend simple genre cinema. Both Pop Skull and A Horrible Way To Die definitely deserve their horror classification, but only as a secondary genre. Don't expect an average slasher or simple serial killer flick here, Wingard aims higher and succeeds remarkably well on both accounts. It's good to know that there are some talented people out there dedicated to making a little more out of the horror genre than simple genre fare and fanservice products.

Even though similarities between this film and Pop Skull are rather slim, there's still an underlying signature style that clearly belongs to Wingard. His films are intimate, raw and combine a solid sense of realism with strong and outspoken styling. A Horrible Way To Die turned out to be a classy, gritty and nuanced serial killer flick that deserves a loving, appreciative audience. What side of Wingard you like best is mostly dependent on your own feelings of what good cinema is supposed to be, but if you like your films a little different there should be more than enough here to deliver an enjoyable and powerful evening worth of serial killer material. 4.0*/5.0*

Check out the trailer, mind some mild spoilers though.

Fans of the weird, the insane and the crazy, take notice. If you haven't watched Dead Leaves, there's a whole world of exuberant excellence you haven't explored (yet), and it's just begging to be discovered. As long as you don't mind your fix coming in animated form, there is probably no film out there that can match the pacing, insanity and overall rebelliousness of Imaishi's first feature film. The result is still unmatched today.

I've said it before, but 2004 was a particularly excellent year for Japanese animation. Several high profile titles (think Innocence, Howl's Moving Castle, Mind Game, Steam Boy) all wedged themselves in this one year release slot to compete for best anime of the year. And then there was Dead Leaves, clearly overshadowed by all these big names but using its underdog position to amaze an unsuspecting crowd of animation fans all over the world.

Since its initial release I must've seen the film at least 5 or 6 times, but it never seizes to amaze me with its excruciating pacing and high density weirdness. Every time I watch Dead Leaves I fear time might have diminished the impact of the film, but it still stands proud after all these years and it always manages to surprise me time and time again. Even though the film is only 50 minutes long, it feels as if there is enough content in there to make a feature twice as long while still firmly holding on to the crown of adrenaline-inducing action cinema.

If you're watching this film for the sake of plot and story though, beware that Imaishi has his own unique take on cinema. Whatever plot there is, is shouted and yelled in short sentences of maniacal dubbing. There are several moments where flashbacks are initiated, only to be terminated 15-20 seconds later for lack of interest. There are characters literally saying that any kind of decent explanation of events is just holding things up, so if you can't stomach that you should lower your hopes and ignore this film altogether.

While Dead Leaves is a film that could only have been made in Japan, it's definitely not your average, traditional anime. Its art style is crude and edgy, equally mixing influences of the Japanese and Western world of animation and comic books. While individual frames might still look a little bland, rest assured that the crazy editing will make up for that. Nothing seems to ever stand still, instead everything and everyone moves at a highly exaggerated pace with highly exaggerated moves. There are split screens, 1-second alternating shots, impossible camera angles and shaking cameras to spice things up, all tangled up to create one of the most visually in-your-face cinematic experiences you'll ever encounter. Add to that an impressive level of detail (frame-by-frame exploration of a film has never been as exciting as here) and what you have is a killer visual experience that becomes tangible.

Make sure to choose the Japanese voice track when you watch this film. The Japanese dub is incredibly animate and exciting, sporting many adlibs and improv moments throughout. The English dub lacks appropriate pacing and the white-boy trash cursing isn't half as effective as the Japanese yakuza-inspired dubbing. The score is pretty cool too, with some decent electronic tracks, some nice pumping beats and even some classy drum 'n bass breaks. It is not as daring as the visuals though and as someone who has the proper experience in electronic music there is some obvious room for improvement, but as it stands the soundtrack definitely meets its goals.

But the coolest thing about Dead Leaves is its unabashed approach to the juvenile style of cinema it sets out to deliver. The film is filled to the brim with crude jokes, inappropriate images and a general, shameless lack of good taste. There are subtle sex jokes, obvious sex jokes, drill penises, splatter gore, unspeakable perversions and a complete and utter lack of political correctness that pervade every pore of this film. The thing is that Dead Leaves delivers it with such overwhelming faith and enthusiasm, and with such surprising technical excellence that it will leave you completely flabbergasted. That is, if you can actually stomach the juvenile joy of this production.

Apart from some unfulfilled potential in the soundtrack department, the film has a little trouble one-upping itself during the finale. At that point the film clearly reached the limit of its creators' creativity, which leaves you with a slight presumption that the finale could've been just a little more impressive. By itself the finale is still a piece of incredibly zany cinema, but looking at the things that came before I guess I'm not 100% happy with how the last battle turned out. It's a rather moot point though, if you consider that no other film can match what Dead Leaves as a whole has on offer in the way of adrenaline, action and weirdness.

There is an unexpected purity in the way Dead Leaves presents its material, especially considering the way it renounces all that is considered good taste and proper cinema. For a film that's almost 8 years old, it's quite unusual not to be surpassed by any of its direct competitors (think Redline). It's a real shame that Imaishi never got the chance to direct a second feature-length film, on the other hand it increases the film's unique flavor. Fans of animation and high adrenaline cinema owe it to themselves to check this out, as long as you can embrace the juvenile pleasures of this film there is nothing to stand in your way of pure bliss. Dead Leaves remains one of my absolute favorites and a completely unique experience, even 8 years after its initial release and after countless viewings. 5.0*/5.0*

Check out the Japanese trailer for some taste of what to expect.

Some specs are easy. You read them, you understand them and you can implement them in less than 5 minutes. And then someone comes along and fucks it all up. I've been reading up on the rel attribute, more in particular the use of rel="prev" and rel="next". No doubt one of the easiest parts of any spec out there, until I heard what Google planned on doing with that information. Those of you who've already implemented these attributes, better think twice before keeping them on.

The first few years of the new millennium formed the high days for modern Japanese dramas. Kumakiri's Holy In The Sky is one of the forgotten and often overlooked gems of that era. To be fair though, this doesn't surprise me one bit. While I don't doubt the film's excellence, it is definitely not the most accessible film to get acquainted with. Fans should take notice though, as Kumakiri and Terajima collide for a genuine tour de force.

Hole In The Sky stems from a time when Japanese drama directors felt they didn't need much in the way of script or plot advancement to make a good film. Characters are usually rather non-communicative, difficult to read and appear to be cold and helpless. And while Hole In The Sky does feature a clear start and ending, nothing is actually resolved during the running time of the film.

All of the above elements can be seen as flaws or shortcomings, but fans of the genre will recognize these as the main attraction. No sentimental nonsense, no meaningless events and/or dialogues just to make the viewer feel at ease and no real life lessons learned when the credits start rolling. Kumakiri ("Green Mind, Metal Bats", Antenna, Furijia) has never been one to make many concessions to please his audience and Hole In The Sky is no exception.

Susumu Terajima takes up the lead role of bored country bumpkin working in the run-down diner of his father. His path crosses that of a young girl left behind by her no-good boyfriend, and when his father leaves for some cross-country gambling that very same day the two of them decide to spend some time together. Even though they grow quite fond of each other, they both realize that a lasting relationship is not really in the cards, but saying goodbye isn't as easy as they expected.

On a visual level Hole In The Sky leaves a little to be desired. While the film definitely features some nice shots and impressive shot compositions, the lighting and use of color is somewhat lacking, making even these nice compositions somewhat drab and unattractive. I think it's quite clear that Kumakiri wasn't really occupied with the visual side of things, but with a little more effort the film could've looked a whole lot better as the potential was certainly there.

The soundtrack is a decent affair, providing a gentle, light-hearted atmosphere with the right amount of dramatic undertones. It remains in the background for most of the film, never intruding or never asking any direct attention from the audience, but giving off just the right amount of tension to be effective. Genre fans will know what to expect, just don't hope to be dazzled by anything out of the ordinary or extravagant.

Greatest selling point (at least for me) is Susumu Terajima picking up the role of the main lead. I've always found Terajima to be underused in secondary roles (something he would only confirm one year later in Sabu's Blessing Bell), with Hole In The Sky he proves that his understated style of acting and overall presence is more than enough to carry a stilted, slow-paced drama like this one. Fans might also recognize actress Rinko Kikuchi (Babel) in one of her early roles, right opposite of Terajima. She provides a nice challenge for Terajima, effectively heightening the dramatic tension between both characters. A secondary cast is mainly absent but whatever small roles are needed are filled in with the proper professionalism.

Hole In The Sky is a rather tough film to appreciate. The main characters aren't the most communicative, nor are they very pleasant to be around. This leads to some rather questionable actions and a rather unusual relationship that develops itself throughout the film. At the same time, it's there where the main strength of Kumakiri's film lies. Catching a glimpse of the crackling collision of both characters' paths of life is all the dramatic depth a film like this needs, all the rest is simply cut out.

While at heart Hole In The Sky is a rather depressing film, it wouldn't be a Japanese drama without putting the film's events in proper perspective. No matter how many mental dents these characters carry with them, at the end of the film they reside in a state of equanimity. They've dealt with their past problems and they are ready to tackle the future head on. Getting that across without the usual cheese and sentimental bullshit is what makes these type films so appealing.

Hole In The Sky is slow-paced cinema. There isn't much happening in terms of dramatic events, the characters are rigid and introvert and odd behavior is often taken for granted. This film is a perfect example of good, solid Japanese drama fare, but should be handled with a little caution by people who don't really know what to expect. It's a rather long film and if it doesn't strike the right cords it will definitely become a tedious and boring affair. Not for me though, I liked every minute of it. 4.0*/5.0*

There's a trailer, no subs on it though.

Responsive design is all the rage these days, and with good reason. The concept itself is a solid (though not very flexible) solution when dealing with different devices under different circumstances. In theory responsive design allows us to provide tailored experiences using only one single html code base and some fancy css an maybe some javascript, but there is also a darker side to responsive design. Read on.

Hong Kong is once again edging away from it's rather commercial, "safe" image. Point in case the latest slasher turns dramatic cop thriller from director Ching-Po Wong. Hong Kong's legendary CatIII rating has risen from the dead and has turned up some successful titles over the past couple of months, but Wong is eager to show that it's not all sleaze and schlock that gets branded as CatIII. Revenge: A Love Story is first class genre cinema with a mean edge.

Revenge: A Love Story is the stylistic follow up of 852 Films's Dream Home and the second film produced under Josie Ho's film label. Where Dream Home brought new life to the Hong Kong slasher genre, Revenge is a more complex beast altogether. It's not a simple genre film, rather a mix of genre elements taken to their extreme and gelled together by a solid dramatic bottom line. The result is a mean, nasty yet strong and controlled film that holds up well amongst all its indirect competitors.

You probably may know director Ching-Po Wong from his second feature Gong Wu (Blood Brothers), but it was his first film (Fu Bo) that impressed me the most. I don't remember much specifics about the story or events in Fu Bo, but those dark, morbid, underlying vibes coming from the film never really left me. In that sense Wong was the ideal man to tackle this film as he is definitely one of the few Hong Kong masters of cold, relentless cinema working there today.

Revenge: A Love Story follows the blossoming relationship between Kit, a dimwitted bun salesman and Wing, a mentally challenged schoolgirl. Wong fragments his story though and starts with a series of coldblooded murders performed by Kit. In both cases Kit kills a pregnant mother and relieves her from her child. The reasons behind this sudden switch remain vague. The police catch Kit, but with a little help from Wing they are forced to let him go again. The exact link between these events are cleared up in the following chapters of the film.

Visually Wong's film belongs to the best that Hong Kong has to offer. The lighting and framing of each shot is unbelievably stylish, creating a cold yet fascinating world of washed out colors, dark and dreadful locations and a scarcity of happy, colorful moments. And the good thing is that Wong keeps the level of visual detail high throughout the entire film. The story never gets in the way of the visuals, as is often the case in this type of film. My only critique would be one or two rather obvious and technically imperfect CG shots about halfway through that really didn't add much to the rest of the film.

The soundtrack is equally classy. Definitely not as in your face as the visuals, but it serves its purpose in the background. Usually I prefer a score that's a bit more present, but the subtlety of the music here really helps to establish the dark and brooding atmosphere. I actually went back to check the music a second time and when you start paying attention to it you'll notice the skill and perfect timing with which is was edited underneath the film.

Juno Mak is the unmistakable star of the film, but most of the media attention went to the inclusion of Japanese AV star Sola Aoi in the main cast. Fans will be disappointed to hear she remains clothed for most of the film, haters will be glad to hear she actually does a pretty good job acting in a regular film. But it's really Mak that deserves most of the attention. He does a stellar job of brining life to all different aspects of his character. The role of Kit is not an easy one as he transforms a couple of times during the film, but Mak keeps it believable and excels in every transformation.

Even though you might not see this film listed as a horror film (which it really isn't), there's some gruesome stuff in here out-nastying most of the regular horror films I've seen. And I'm not even talking about the graphic depiction of the formerly pregnant corpses (check à l'Intérieur), but more simple things like Kit scraping away the skin on his fingers. These scenes are as nasty as they come and nearly had me looking away from the screen.

Straying from the actual gore, the film also contains some grim and cold-hearted scenes, especially near the finale, resulting in an unpleasant punch in the gut. Wong keeps his story under control and uses the various chapters to form a cohesive plot, with all different strands comes together in a sprawling finale. Here he also delivers a surprisingly human message, though through a narrative quote rather than through any of the film's actual events. It's a welcome change of tone that makes the film a little easier to digest, while keeping the gut punch intact.

Revenge: A Love Story plays like a modern Hong Kong version of Se7en, only better, more tense and not as restrained as Fincher's film. Ching-Po Wong proves the perfect director for this and delivers a film that will remain with you some days after the initial viewing. Revenge: A Love Story lacks any weak points, excels on almost every level and enhances the CatIII rating with some damn stylish film making. And if you thought Dream Home was just a lucky hit for Ho's 852 Films, this film goes to the limit to prove you wrong. Excellent stuff, comes highly recommended. 4.5*/5.0*

Check the subbed trailer if you must, but it's better to go in clean.

Even though Okami is one of the most lauded games by game critics all over, it never managed to land itself the proper audience it deserved. Sure it has a warm and pleasant cult following, but its many qualities would suggest that the game could and should have a much broader fan base. And so I add my review to the pile of rave reviews that's already out there, simply because this game deserves it.

When looking for Wii games to buy, I stumbled upon Okami rather by accident. I heard many good things about the game before and was quite taken with its art style, so I took a little gamble an ordered it without much further thought. I really had no idea what to expect, only that it was some kind of action adventure game, akin to the 3D Zelda games.

The first few hours into Okami were a little uneasy. The game areas are quite large, there are tons of little side quests and it was the first time I actually sat down to play a full 3D action/adventure game. I did try some of the older Zelda games before, but apart from a brief Gamecube session I wasn't all that impressed. Okami was different though, even during these first hours the game got a tight grip on me.

When reviewers dish out scores for games they end up with a fixed set of categories they like to rate. While I'm sure Okami would score great in all these traditional categories, the greatest aspect of the game lies elsewhere. It's a bit difficult to explain, but simply being in the game world of Okami is the main selling point here. It's not just the graphics, the music or the level design, it's the combination of all these elements which put you in a stylish, calm and beautiful state of trance that knowns no equal. Just running around the vast landscapes and enjoying all the tiny details was the greatest pleasure of all.

Even when you're not too taken with the art style, you'll still have to admit that the execution is just perfect. I for one loved the tradition ink painting style and was amazed to be able to fully explore it in 3D. On top of that, the magic of the graphics isn't something that wears off over time. Even when discovering new areas 50+ hours into the game the wonder remained. Beautiful design, strong artwork, first class color work and some very nifty effects make this one of the most beautiful games to date, even if the tech behind it is not cutting edge.

The soundtrack shows similar class. The score consists mostly of soothing and calm traditional Japanese background music, but there are also some more upbeat tracks (usually during character interaction) and some proper fight music. Mind that even though there is no real voice acting, all character did get some weird mumbling sounds when they're talking. You get used to that, but at first it might come off as a little annoying.

Okami also features a unique fighting and puzzle mechanic. Regular controls for fighting and navigation are simple and precise, but our wolf is also able to enter God Mode with a push of a button. The frame freezes and you get a brush which can be used to create some godly effects and attacks by making particular strokes. The brush is operated by moving the Wii-mode around, which does take some getting used to at first. Once you master it though, the feedback it provides is superb and it's hard to imagine doing the same with a traditional controller, let alone get a similarly satisfying effect.

I found the difficulty level of Okami to be rather low, which means something coming from someone who has never played this type of 3D game before. In all I only died twice during the whole game. You'd think this could put off serious gamers, but the lack of difficulty is compensated by the immense vastness of the game. I guess hardcore gamers can take a good 40-45 to complete the basic game, but add all the sub quests and you'll go well over 50 hours of fun out of it. It took me just below 70 to get through, including finishing all the major side quests (like collecting all 100 stray beads).

When I encountered the main boss for the first time I was about 30 hours into the game. If it wasn't for those glaring empty spots in my item screens Okami could've just ended right there and still would've felt like a complete game. The second and third part of the game are shorter though, but add some tricky (the forest run), long (the thief quest) and combined (the demon gates) quests and you won't be feeling cheated, even when you're a hardcore gamer.

So is there nothing wrong with this game? Well, there are some small things, which is only to be expected with a game this size. The fact that some side quests don't really add much to the core of the game can be a little disappointing at times. You'll be collecting stuff, trading it for other items but gaining very little in the end. Another thing I don't understand is there is no option available to make markings on your map. There's quite a lot of back-tracking to be done, which could've been made a lot easier if there was some way of marking interesting spots to return to. Finally there are some pacing issues after defeating the first big boss. You're left without a real sense of urgency, which is a little strange 30+ hours into the game.

These are only small issues though, that have no way of harming the overall experience of the game. Now that I finished Okami I actually miss playing it sometimes. The chill, pleasant atmosphere proved extremely compelling and addictive, placing the actual goals of the game on a secondary level. Okami is by far the best game I've ever played, beating Nintendo's Zelda series on every level and delivering something that no game has done before. Rather than provide first class gameplay, killer graphics or a compelling storyline (which is still does), it delivers a world that's just great to "be" in. Comes with the highest recommendation. 5.0*/5.0*

Check out the nifty trailer to see the incredible art style in action.

Ever since the article tag was introduced in html5 I've been struggling with a way to wrap my head around its practical implications. I've written about the difference between section and article before, but this time I'll keep a more rigid focus on the article element itself and how to approach it when writing html code. As the current definition leaves too much room for doubt and misinterpretation, we need something more tangible to guide us along.

Sion Sono (Love Exposure, Ekusute) is definitely on a role here. After dazzling people with the epic Love Exposure he's back with another film that is bound to make heads turn. Cold Fish may start off quite slow, but by the time the end credits make their appearance you can rest assured you've experienced one hell of a ride. It's not for the faint of heart but true Sono fans can rejoice, this is prime Sono material.

Looking back, Cold Fish reminded me a somewhat of Takashi Miike's Audition. It follows a very similar pattern, starting off quite slow and growing subsequently more gruesome, grotesque and absurd during the second part. Looking at Sono's film though, the entertainment level is more evenly spread and even the slow start is pretty interesting by itself. While Audition's first hour bordered on boring, Cold Fish works a lot better on a dramatic level and makes it a lot easier to stay put.

The film follows the life of Shamoto, a rather timid and plain-looking Japanese dad. His family's life is not without problems, but they still get along just fine. That is, until the day they cross the path of Murata, the owner of a tropical fish shop (just like Shamato) who captivates the entire family with his eccentric behavior. What they don't realize is that Murata slowly reveals the cracks in the family's happy facade, tearing them apart while gobbling up each family member for his own sinister plans.

Even though Shamoto is definitely the main character of Cold Fish, Murata is really in the center of the film and he'll be the one you'll remember when you look back on it. It's quite obvious from the start that there is something wrong with the man, but with his weird yet cheerful behavior he manages to captivate the audience along with Shamoto's family. This makes the second part of the film all the more interesting as you too were suckered by his charm, even when it was made perfectly clear early on that something was not right.

Sono is not someone who needs big budgets to impress. While his films aren't visual masterpieces, they feature a pleasant amount of beautiful shots and some very solid camera work. The editing too is remarkable, with some very harsh cuts resulting in a few simple, snappy yet unsettling scenes. While there is definitely room for improvement, there is still plenty to admire here.

The soundtrack is quite interesting to say the least. Cold Fish is not a film void of humor, part of which comes from the music. There are for example some pretty outlandish scenes near the end of the film that are edited to off-key jolly carousel ride music. This contrast really heightens the absurdity of these scenes and makes for a pretty special experience. It's nice to see Sono make such bold decisions as in the end the film as a whole benefits greatly from it.

The acting is also key here and it must be said that all main characters put in a wonderful performance. Mitsuru Fukikoshi does a great job with the timid Shamoto (especially in the later scenes), but it's really Denden who steals the show. His version of Murata is essential to the success of the film, as he takes you on a ride that's quite hard to stomach altogether. But in the end it's his character that glues everything together, and it's the believability of his character that will tow you through most of the second part of the film.

Sono's films are often labeled as misogynistic and while the women in this film are definitely in need of some professional counseling, the men don't really come out any better. The woman are selfish, soda-masochistic leeches while the men are beastly, arrogant and lying scumbags. It's quite easy to come up with a whole lot opinions on Sono's view of the world, but as he handles most of his films with an unmistakable rim of dark humor, it is difficult (if not impossible) to tell how much of his material is serious and how much of it is simple manipulative entertainment. As for Cold Fish, I would say that those who label it as misogynistic are probably a little too over-protective.

Cold Fish is a film that gets better with the minute. While the first hour is pretty decent and presents some interesting dramatic strands, the second part is where things get really interesting. Visualizing the descent into madness is one of Sono's strengths and with Cold Fish he proves he can do so with proper restraint. Where films like Love Exposure and Suicide Circle can feel quite uneven, the build-up of Cold Fish is stunningly precise and even beats that of Sono's own Strange Circus.

Cold Fish is a film that will sit well with those who appreciate awkward, cruel and excessive Japanese cinema. It's a splendid descent into madness with the proper amount of dark humor, flawless performances from the entire cast, some interesting dramatic undercurrents and a solid audiovisual coating. It can get rather graphic in places and you might want to reconsider if weren't impressed by earlier Sion Sono films, but otherwise this is Sono at the top of his game. 4.5*/5.0*

There is a subbed trailer, though I would stop in the middle as it's a little spoiler-heavy.

Wilson Yip (Ip Man, Ip Man 2) has been making quite a name for himself these past couple of years, so it's not all that surprising that people have been eying his latest project with heightened interest. With A Chinese Fairy Tale (or A Chinese Ghost Story if you will) Yip takes on a slightly different genre, no doubt alienating a part of his international audience. But fans of the original too should take a word of warning, as Yip's modernization is not for everyone.

It's getting more and more difficult these days to determine whether a remake is just a remake, a reboot, a prequel, a preboot or maybe even a complete re-envisioning of the source material. Whatever the case, Yip's latest finds its roots in Siu-Tung Ching's (Swordsman II) 1987 cult hit A Chinese Ghost Story. While the story is slightly different from the original, the structure and focus of the film remain the same and are lovingly incorporated in this 2011 upgrade.

That said, people hoping to catch some of the classic atmosphere of the Chinese Ghost Story series might end up feeling cheated by Yip's latest. While on paper there are many similarities between the two films, Yip's remake is heavy on CG and effect shots, completely forgoing the old-style effects and charm attributed to them. For me this was not much of a problem, I feel that Yip did a great job upgrading the visual style of the film, but those with an aversion to post-processed CG visuals might reconsider before going into this film.

The story is quite complex, unless you accept that this is just another action/fantasy flick and take all the drama for granted. There's a basic love triangle and a village that needs saving from a tree demon. Once you start drawing lines between characters and events things get more muddled, but as the film itself isn't all that concerned by delivering a proper dramatic foundation, neither should you.

If you can stomach the CG, Yip's A Chinese Fairy Tale is a beautiful film to behold. Apart from all the effect shots the camera work, framing and settings are top notch too, but no matter how you feel about those, in the end they will be overshadowed by the CG in the film. Not everything is technically impressive and a few select shots are not very convincing, but that is all quickly forgotten when the aesthetic value of the images start doing their work. The editing too deserves a little mention, as it is snappy, controlled and impressively paced.

The soundtrack is comprised of the same traditional Chinese music that is ever-present in films like these. While it could be considered as a nod to the original and it does result in creating a proper atmosphere, it is far from adventurous and mostly functions as background filler. A few days later I can recall very little from the music and listening to the songs featured in the trailer, they could just as well come from one of ten other films in this genre.

The acting is sufficient, though Yifei Liu clearly lacks the charisma to fully carry her role. Luckily actors like Siu-Wong Fan and Louis Koo take the spotlight away from her when they enter the frame. The lead role is reserved for Shao-qun Yu, who does a great job resurrecting one of the gullible young characters of the old days. He aptly succeeds in finding the perfect balance between slightly overacting classic characters and what is considered acceptable in modern-day films.

In a surprisingly smart move the film was retitled A Chinese Fairy Tale. Even though the original might still classify as a horror film, times have changed and the notion of some demons and an evil tree are not good enough to satisfy horror audiences. In the end, Yip's film is a martial arts fantasy epic with some darker touches here and there, where horror fans can find very little to get excited about.

There isn't too much martial arts action, but there are a few scenes where Yip can demonstrate what he's learned this past 10 years. This time around he's not quite that restrained by reality though, which results in some smartly choreographed martial arts wizardry and some impressive fantasy bashing.

If you take away the layer of CG, the film underneath is as close to the original as you can get nowadays. A simple narrative with complex relations between characters, snappy editing, blue-filter night scenes, and epic finale, a gullible young hero, some fantasy martial arts and a lot of people floating around ... it's all there and it should definitely appeal to the fans of the original. The CG transports the film to our modern times though and considering its domination it kills off a considerable amount of the melancholic atmosphere. Whether this is enough to kill the entire film for you depends on your acceptance of this decision. I for one didn't mind, I loved the CG and was considerably impressed by the visual expression of Yip's latest, but I realize that opinions may differ. If you think you can handle an update of A Chinese Ghost Story bathing in CG visuals, this one is definitely recommended, otherwise you best stay clear. 4.0*/5.0*

There is a subbed trailer, though I would stop in the middle as it's a little spoiler-heavy.

Last week I came to the sudden realization that the way I handle html work has changed a lot these past couple of years. What was once a one-time last-resort exception became the standard way of working, even though I used to resist it quite vehemently at first. Two years ago the idea of "dry-htmling" sounded crazy, but it turned out to be a refreshing experience that thought me a lot about the finer points of html.

I'm slowly running out of Johnnie To (Vengeance, PTU, Mad Detective, Sparrow) films to watch, luckily there are still some hidden gems in his back catalogue that are waiting to be discovered. Throw Down was such a film, and even though it might be quite a challenge to find, it's worth the trouble as it's an essential link in understanding To's current trademark style. I went in with modest expectations, but was happily surprised by the level of wit and rhythm on display.

When I first watched To's Sparrow I was completely baffled by the film's style and rhythm. Sure I had watched To films prior to that, but it was the first time I'd seen him so carefree and at ease, allowing a film to pretty much make up its own rhythm as it progressed (at least, that's how it felt while watching, I later found out he hired a special dance choreographer to help him out with that). When watching Throw Down it became a little clearer where To found the inspiration to make Sparrow, as this film shares a very similar carefree, tongue-in-cheek atmosphere. The result is a little rawer, but definitely recognizable.

When I started Throw Down I expected to see a noir-ish martial arts film, what I got instead was a fun, crime-fueled comedy with some martial arts thrown in (no pun intended) for good measure. It's an unusual mix of styles and genres, but if you liked To's Sparrow and/or Mad Detective you will have some idea of what to expect from this film. It's typical To material, balancing a fine line of familiarity and creativity.

The story focuses on Sze-To, a former judo champion who has lost most of his glory to his gambling and drinking problems. Debt owners are putting more and more pressure on him and even the bosses of his night club are starting to question his ability to run a decent business. A silver lining appears when he is visited by Tony, a young and upcoming judo star, searching for fame by battling the great former judo talents. Obviously Sze-To is in no condition to fight, so Tony joins Sze-To in his night club and vows to wait until he can finally battle his great idol.

Visually To is already on top of his game here. Delicate camera movements, solid framing and superb night shots make for a strong noir atmosphere. He does allow himself some visual frivolities, especially during the more comical scenes, but most of the film is dripping with To's uberstylish signature style. You'd almost take it for granted after watching so many To films, but there aren't many directors out there that can match his visual excellence.

The soundtrack is once again an essential part of the film's experience. As always it's a pretty odd selection of tracks you wouldn't immediately expect in a film like this, but that's definitely part of the charm. To also shows no intension of hiding the score behind other elements, but he puts it front center for everyone to admire. And as always, against all odds, it works, though in a weird, magical way. It enhances the playfulness of Throw Down and provides a prefect frame for the tongue-in-cheek feel of the film.

The actors are definitely in on the joke. Even though the story provides some glaring opportunities for more serious dramatic scenes, Koo, Kwok and Ka Fai play with a visible smirk and a definite tingle in their eyes. All actors are clearly enjoying themselves, further increasing the fun factor of the film. There's also a nice cameo from Jordan Chan who's definitely gained my respect after watching through the whole Young And Dangerous series. It's a shame he somehow faded away in recent years.

The basic premise of the film is quite simple and doesn't really spark a lot of immediate interest. It's the way To handles the atmosphere that really lights things up. Calling this film a comedy is somewhat of a gamble as there are no clear punchlines or laugh-out-loud moments, but the constant joy, light-hearted atmosphere and loose interpretation of the laws of reality definitely makes comedy one of the primary genres of the film.

There are also a couple of scenes that leave a lasting impression, elevating the film to a higher level. There's the huge bar fight with 8 or 10 mini-fights going on at once while To still tries and succeeds in maintaining a cool and controlled air of filming. There's also the debt collection scene and a scene were Koo and Ying are fleeing a casino after stealing an armful of cash. These are all moments where To simply lets the story slide and focuses on making something special, something unique. It's also in these moments you realize the true beauty of cinema.

Throw Down is a little hard to recommend. It's a film with a pretty unique feel that might not speak to everyone. On the other hand, I'm sure most people will find something enjoyable here. For me it was interesting to see how this film fits in with the other To films, apart from that it's just a very fun and entertaining film with a good few memorable scenes. In the end it's not one of To's absolute bests, but definitely worth watching. 4.0*/5.0*

There is a trailer, no subs but you won't miss them anyway.

Sometimes it's the little things that keep me up at night. Silly structural or semantical tidbits that don't really seem all that important, but return to haunt me time and time again. Never taking the proper time to figure them out can lead to years of doubt and uneasiness, until it finally grows into this "thing" that just needs resolving. So if the following article seems a little ... obsessive, you know where it's coming from. Just bear with me.

Who Are You (or Who R U - depending on where you look for information) is one of the latest entries in the Thai horror genre. The film strays a little from the traditional Asian horror fare, keeping the ghosts and apparitions to a minimum, instead focusing more on drama and aesthetics. The result is a beautifully shot horror film that deserves a wider audience, though people expecting a simple horror fix might be a little disappointed.

People have some rigid preconceptions about Asian horror films, but the Thai horror scene is actually quite diverse. Of course there are the films riding along on the not-so-recent-anymore wave of Asian suspense films (think Shutter and Alone), but if you're more into gore and shock the Art of the Devil series will kindly serve your needs. Then there are some popular anthology projects (Phobia, Phobia 2) which also hint at said diversity. Who Are You belongs to the most interesting category of Thai horror films, mixing lush cinematography with strong dramatic elements and some subtle arthouse influences (think Meat Grinder). This combination also makes it one of the least accessible categories though.

To get the most out of this film, some prior knowledge of the Hikikomori condition (young people locking themselves up in their own room for years on end, often threatening with suicide when people try to enter) comes in handy. I always figured this was a Japan only thing (we do get some footage from a Japanese documentary), but apparently other nations are struggling with these same issues as well. It's a rather surprising motive to use for a horror film, but Wonjinda proves it fits the genre extremely well, especially when you keep the camera outside the actual locked-down room for most of the film.

Who Are You sees a single mother struggling with her only son. She doesn't seem to be too concerned about his condition, until she runs into a documentary filmmaker who goes on the investigate the Hikikomori condition and proposes to make a documentary out of her son's case (don't worry, this is not a found-footage film). The mother gives her consent, but the boy isn't too happy with the plan. Things go from bad to worse and the real issues are slowly revealed, twisting themselves to a somewhat predictable yet effective finale.

Definitely the most striking aspect of Who Are You is the stellar use of color. Even though there are many night scenes, the shots remain colorful and vibrant throughout. Thai cinematography is known to be focused on strong and emotive colors, but Wonjinda takes it to a whole new level. The camera work itself is excellent too and even the few special effects found in the film are top notch quality.

The soundtrack too is strong, but it's definitely the overall sound design that impresses the most. The score provides plenty of atmosphere by itself, yet the addition of some subtle sound effects here and there give the film that extra edge to creep you out. It's interesting to see a rather simple scene become haunting just by adding the right effects to a soundtrack. I know music in films is a pet peeve of mine, this film clearly illustrates why I think it is such an important factor in the overall experience.

Apart from the intro, the acting is solid and straight-faced. The characters here aren't too demanding for the actors, but as there is a definite dramatic stretch in the plot at least some kind of decent performance was required. Not to worry though, the cast did what was needed and fair well in both the dramatic and the horror scenes.

Who Are You is not a perfect film though. It's not that I mind drama in a horror film, but halfway through the film practically grinds to a halt, forgetting about the horror and even the beautiful cinematography is axed in favor of some dramatic scenes. By itself this segment isn't all that bad, but it just doesn't compare to the rest of the film. Nearing the end Wonjinda picks up where he left before and does deliver a popping finale, which really helped to save the film for me.

As for the actual amount of horror, most of it happens off-screen. Don't expect to be shocked or horrified, Wonjinda is clearly not interested in all that. If you let the soundtrack do its work though, there are some very creepy scenes in here. But even those are mostly carried by the reigning atmosphere, so if by then you have decided this is not a very good film those scenes will probably lose all their effect, leaving you with very little.

Fans of Meat Grinder or likewise will probably love this film. It's lush, bursting with strong colors and lovely cinematography. Add a killer soundtrack and you have a worthwhile horror film that carries you through on style alone. There's even an interesting background motive and some drama added to the mix, which elevate the film further above generic horror fare. But people hoping for some standard horror fare might think twice before watching this. 4.0*/5.0*

There is a subbed trailer so check it out.

When the lauded Studio Ghibli announces a new film, the world takes notice. But not me. Even though I'm a big Ghibli fan, I simply trust their skills well enough to know every new project they produce will reach a certain level of quality that will satisfy me. And The Borrowers is definitely no exception. The only question that remains is how well it compares to other Ghibli films and whether Yonebayashi was able to beat Miyazaki at his own game.

Even though I'm a big supporter of most Ghibli films, the past ten years they've done very little to explore the boundaries of the anime universe. They've been producing pretty much the same film over and over again without worrying too much about innovation. Sure there are differences between films like Ponyo and Howl, but the bottom line is always pretty much the same. All their films feature that same trademark Ghibli charm that people have come to expect from them. This is not necessarily a bad thing, though I do miss the occasional off-center project like Yamadas or Ocean Waves.

The Borrowers is based on a story by Mary Norton. More and more Ghibli is looking to the West for inspiration, lucky for me they usually dig up something I haven't read or seen before. Apparently Norton's story is quite well-known here, but it went by me completely when I was a kid. So even though I can't really compare this film to the original, I still believe the story itself is universal and simple enough to work independent of its source material.

The Borrowers is about a family of "little people", living underneath the porch of an old country house. Once in a while they head upstairs to borrow some of the inhabitants stuff, but only things that will not be missed. When Arrietty is old enough to undertake her first Borrow, she is spotted by a young boy living in the house. The two learn to appreciate each other's company, but when the cleaning lady discovers the hideout of the little people things get a little too hairy for Arrietty's family, urging them to move out of the house.

Visually the film bears the typical Ghibli style. There is some CG, used very sparingly throughout the film, all the rest is hand-drawn. The backgrounds are colorful, the animation is detailed and life-like and some of the set pieces are absolutely lush. The art style itself is not all that original though and Ghibli doesn't seem to be making all that much progress on a technical level. There aren't many instances where the film actually knows to woo its audience with some impressive camera work or character animation. It's not really a problem yet, but I can't imagine them keeping this up for another ten years.

The soundtrack on the other hand is a bit more daring. Joe Hisaishi wasn't invited to the party this time around, instead French artist Cécile Corbel was issued to provide the music for The Borrowers. Her voice is quite unique, which gives the film some much needed identity. Once you're used to it (the first time she starts singing is a small shock) the score is actually quite nice and helps plenty to define the film's overall feel.

The voice acting is traditionally strong. I actually can't imagine Ghibli delivering a sub-par performance here. There aren't that many big names on the cast list (many TV talents), but they do a pretty solid job nonetheless. For those of you who can't stand Japanese, rest assured that there aren't any grating child actors in this film, most of the dialogue is delivered in soft, easy-on-the-ears Japanese.

The first fifteen minutes I felt like I was watching just another Ghibli film. Even though it was nice enough, I really got the feeling I watched it all before. But then the usual Ghibli magic started kicking in and all what came before was forgotten in a mere second. There aren't many companies who can pull this off, usually lack of creativity of chance is a real show-stopper for me, but the feel of a Ghibli film remains quite unique and is pretty much impossible to produce outside the Ghibli realm.

The Borrowers keeps the dramatic tension to a minimum and leaves lot of room for simple, childlike wonder. One of the nicest scenes is where the old lady of the house showcases her old doll house. The scene itself doesn't add much to the plot and could be seen as a pure waste of storytelling time, but it's just amazing to see an old lady relive the past like that. It's these kind of moment that set the studio apart from other players in the market, and what makes Ghibli films so enjoyable and unique.

Ghibli fans will know what to expect when they go and see this film. It doesn't really bring anything new to the table, but the typical Ghibli charm is still very much there and guarantees you ninety minutes of harmless, relaxing entertainment. The film really puts you at ease, leaving you a little sad when you're finally pulled back to the real world. People not familiar with Ghibli should probably look elsewhere for their entry film as the studio produced better films over the years, but I can't imagine many people actively disliking this film. Recommended watching.4.0*/5.0*

Check the subbed trailer, unless you have unlimited confidence in the power of Ghibli

When Firefox finally bloomed to challenge the reign of IE6, it provided the first spark for the current browser wars. To rise to the challenge of properly displaying our websites in the emerging range of browser, two new concepts were born: progressive enhancement and graceful degradation. The latter became one of the key concepts of modern-day web development, which means it's time to re-evaluate its validity.

Stop the presses! After an excruciatingly long period of waiting, Redline finally found its way onto the TV sets of those who can read English subtitles. Takeshi Koike's long awaited project took almost seven years to complete, but he made sure every second of that long wait counted. The result is a staggering demonstration of the power of animation, wrapped in colorful pop art and injected with a mean streak of creative madness. And boy did I like it.

In 2004 Japan was experiencing one of its top animation production years, with films like Ghost In The Shell 2, Howl's Moving Castle, Mind Game and Steamboy all being released that year. But Production I.G and director Imaishi had another surprise lined up. When Dead Leaves was released, it took the alternative anime world by storm and smashed it with a force that nobody could have predicted. Never before had there been such a raw, crude and rude film, executed with so much passion, attention to detail and technical brilliance.

Not that Imaishi invented a whole new niche by and for himself, people like Koike had been doing similar things before (the opening sequence of Party 7, the Animatrix World Record short and last but not least, Trava Fist Planet), just never with such intensity, conviction and power. Dead Leaves raised the bar for its small niche, sadly it raised it a little too high for the competition and for 6 or 7 years nobody even came close to the madness of Imaishi's first film. Not even Imaishi himself. Enter Koike's Redline, the first film to actively challenge the title of most crazy animation film ever.

Redline first appeared some 5 or 6 ago in the form of a short teaser. Koike was teaming up with Katsuhito Ishii (Party 7, Taste of Tea, My Darling Of The Mountains) once again, following the same road they traveled with Trava Fist Planet. The duo had more luck this time around (Trava got canceled before it could turn into a real series) and found in Madhouse the perfect home for Redline. There they were allowed the budget and time to expand the initial concept into a true feature-length film.

The result is something that shares many influences and connections to other films, but tops that with bucket loads of its own creativity. The race element bears resemblance to Speed Racer (the live action film) and Running Man (a short from the Manie-Manie/Neo-Tokyo anthology), the Redline universe itself seems like an extension of the Trava world (hence the Trava cameo). And that's not even counting the zillion other small references that seem to be taken from various parts of the wide manga/anime universe. The good thing is that it never feels as if Redline shamelessly borrows these elements, it just pays quick respect and goes on to bury them in it own creativity.

Koike's visual style has earned him much praise before. While it still exists within the realm of Japanese animation it's hard to compare it to other Japanese artists out there. More than just praise, it also earned him some director credits simply because his style is so defining for a project that the director cannot take all the credit for himself. With Redline, Koike was allowed to take his style to another level. He not only functioned as director, but also took upon himself the role of animation director. The result is a rare mix of a crazy art-style with exuberant levels of animated detail.

Koike's style is colorful and detailed, with much attention being paid to motion and speed, playing around with funky perspectives to enhance the dynamics of a particular scene. Most of the secondary animation work was outsourced to Gainax, an animation studio which had plenty of prior experience bringing such a task to successful completion (think FLCL, or the work they did on Dead Leaves). As for the outlandish character designs, those are actually the work of Katsuhito Ishii, Koike's madman in crime.

The music is probably the only weak(er) point of Redline. While it features a pumping soundtrack similar to Dead Leaves, it's still a little too poppy for my liking. The score features some nice kicks and adrenaline-boosting tracks, but it never goes full-out like the animation does. It still surprises me that in this post-Pi era there hasn't been one single film to challenge that film's electronic score. And it's not that the Redline score is particularly bad, it just could've been a whole lot better.

As for the voice acting, Madhouse really left nothing to chance. They hired some of the biggest acting talents in Japan, most notably Tadanobu Asano (the man still has a nose for unusual projects) and Yu Aoi. The voice of main man JP was handled by Takuya Kimura, another old-timer with enough experience to get the job done with the proper gusto. Many of the dialogues feature improvised lines, so having the proper talent on boards really works to the film's advantage.

If you want anything more than simple visceral fun, you're probably looking at the wrong film. The plot is simple, characters are pretty one-dimensional and there is little in the way of morale or deeper meaning. Redline is a film tailored to pleasure and fun. Every little tidbit is added to increase the joy and amusement of its audience, layer upon layer of grotesque action and flat-out weirdness is added just to turn this 100 minutes into one of the most entertaining cinematic moments of your life. And if you're fine with that, it comes pretty close to accomplishing just that.

Comparing it one last time with Dead Leaves, it falls just a little short of Imaishi's masterpiece. The 100 minute running time forces Redline to slow down once in a while, relieving the tension and adrenaline just a little before going full out again in the next couple of scenes. Many people might welcome these short breathers, but I actually preferred the continuous pressure of Dead Leaves. It's hardly Koike's fault, you can't expect the man to put in another 7 years just to make it even more chaotic and with its 100 minute running time Redline is still completely unique, but these real-world limitations are not really the worries of a film's audience.

Redline is a film that could only have been made in Japan. And not just because of its technical and/or creative elements, but mostly because the project is absolutely commercially unrealistic. Koike, a first-time director, was allowed the time and budget to spend 7 years and 100.000 hand-drawn drawing to complete a film that would most likely only speak to a small niche of animation fans. There is no way such a risky project could have been made anywhere else in the world, which is exactly why Japan is such a special creative breeding ground.

People not liking adhd animation, purely visceral cinema or semi-random pop chaos, do stay away from this film. But if you're looking for 100 minutes flat-out entertainment, tailored to be as goofy, crazy and mad as possible, and backed by an amazing technical accomplishment, you'll be hard-pressed to find a better film than Redline. Even after 7 years of building up expectations, the film still delivers and even manages to go beyond some of my initial expectations. It's a unique project, one that will probably not be matched or even approximated in the years to come. So cherish it and make sure you don't let it slip by. It really is that good. 5.0*/5.0*

There's a short trailer, just try to ignore the soundtrack.

The superhero nerd flick is slowly turning into a proper sub genre of its own. First there were films like Defendor, Zebraman, Kick-Ass and Scott Pilgrim Vs The World, now director James Gunn takes a swing at the newly established genre. Beware though, Gunn's lo-fi approach packs a bit more punch than I had anticipated, leaving me stunned on quite a few occasions. Which, in this case, is definitely a good thing.

If I had known Gunn was the man behind Slither I probably would've been a bit more prepared to face Super. Slither was a rather sublime mix of comedy and gore which aptly demonstrated Gunn's rather unique sense of humor combined with his utter lack of subtlety. If you think Super is just another superhero nerd rip-off, better reconsider before watching this because the film holds more than just a few dumb one-liners and nerdy people running around in spandex.

There is a scene quite early on in the film, where Frank sits himself down in front of the TV and zaps to an anime tentacle rape scene. His face shows a mix of disgust and wonder, the time it takes to zap to the next show is just slightly too long. It's small details like these that indicate Gunn is not all that attached to America's traditional Hollywood values system, allowing him to break a few cliches that would be impossible to tackle in similar big budget Hollywood films.

The setup of Super is pretty much familiar territory by now though. Frank is a rather sad human specimen who hits rocks bottom when a flashy pimp steals his wife from under his nose, the only bright spot in his bleak, stale life. Frank decides it's time for a change of lifestyle when he is literally touched by the hand of God and he starts research on what it would take to become a real-world superhero. This of course proves a little harder than expected, even when God himself is on your side.

Visually Gunn keeps everything pretty low-key. No flashy camera work, no overly bright colors and no polished animation scenes. Everything looks rather bleak, there's a pleasant crude edge to the film's look and even though some visual effects could've looked a bit better, they don't really take away from the overall visual experience.

The soundtrack is the only real downer of Super. To complement his lo-fi audiovisual approach Gunn tucked some indie rock track underneath his film. Sadly these songs don't really work well within the setting and draw a little too much attention to the film's background. While the rest of the film feels quite novel and fresh, the soundtrack lacks inspiration and just feels flat and lifeless.

Luckily the acting is spot on. The male roles are strong but a little unadventurous. Wilson and Bacon are allowed to do what we all know they are good at. The females roles on the other hand feature some nice anti-typecastings. Both Page as squeaky sidekick and Tyler as wasted drug-addicted whore are great fun to behold. And if nothing else, it shows they are capable of more than what is usually presented and/or demanded of them.

The first part of Super is still pretty typical genre fare. The humor is great at times, the one-liners are snappy (and stupid) and there a few memorable moments that break free from the norm. The second part of the film becomes a little meaner though, introducing some actual gore and a healthy selection of slap-in-your-face plot twists. Without wanting to spoil too much, Page's fate as a hero sidekick is less than predictable and comes as quite a surprise.

The actual ending is still a bit too soft for my liking, but overall that's just a minor quirk. James Gunn goes a long way in serving something that knows to surprise, blending genre conventions with an utter lack of respect for reigning moral conventions, turning in a film that stands well on its own and differentiates itself from its fellow genre competitors. While comparisons with films like Defendor are still quite easy to make, Super is able to stand its own ground.

Super is an excellent addition to the nerdy superhero genre. Beware that the film could be a bit more blunt and relentless than you might expect based on the advertising and trailers you've seen, but if you can handle that Gunn's film is a real pleasure to behold. Genuinely funny, well acted and packing quite a punch, even though it is "just" a nerdy superhero flick. Good stuff, looking forward to Gunn's future projects.4.0*/5.0*

Check the trailer if you must, but beware of spoilers.

These days web design is all about the experience. UX design has boomed, constantly pushing the boundaries and elevating our web to new heights. I'm not going to dwell on the subtleties of various definitions of user experience design, but it's safe to say that both interaction designers and visual designers spend most of their time working towards an optimized, user-central experience. And while this all sounds wonderful in theory, there is a darker side to UX design.

Oxide Pang's solo projects (Basic Love, Som And Bank) are always worth checking out. The Detective 2 is his first solo sequel though, which raises the question whether Oxide Pang would be man enough to withstands the usual pitfalls of sequels and whether he would be able to deliver a worthy successor to his first Detective film. Opinions may differ of course, but I believe he succeeded surprisingly well.

While the Western title doesn't really give away too much about the film itself, the original title is a bit richer in meaning. In B+ Jing Taam our detective has moved up a rank from C+ to B+, making him a little less gullible and overall more serious when it comes to solving his cases. In the first film he pretty much solved the riddle on good luck alone, here Tam puts in a little more effort before catching the bad guys. It's a rather funny bit of wordplay that leaves an interesting opening (A+) for a third and final film in Pang's Detective series.

What struck me while watching The Detective 2 is that Oxide Pang is pretty much making his own spin on the trademark Johnnie To flick here. It may differ a little in style, characters and pacing, but the unique mix of stylish noir with in-your-face quirky interludes is unmistakably there. The quirky elements surface in several scenes, from deadpan comedy to silly Thai pop songs, they clash heavily with its stylish counterparts but somehow the combination of both works wonders.

As for the story itself, don't expect too much of it. The Detective 2 follows a tried and tested pattern where two seemingly unrelated stories are brought together, mixing up a case which is then solved by detective Tam by piecing all the bits and pieces of information together and filling in some notable gaps with magical detective power. It works well enough, but it's hardly the main attraction of Oxide's latest film.

Visually Oxide Pang knows his trade. The Detective 2 might lack a little of the much appreciated experimentation of the first film and its overall look is just a little slicker, but the film still features a very welcome collection of beautifully shot scenes. Detailed and rich backgrounds, wide and well-framed shots, excellent use of lighting, watching an Oxide Pang film is usually a feast for the eyes and once again he delivers.

The soundtrack is, as always, a different story. I was a little better prepared this time around though, and found the quirky intermission songs extremely entertaining. One silly Thai song in particular turns the atmosphere of a single scene 180 degrees around. It's a solid example of the way a soundtrack can influence the atmosphere of a scene all by itself. Classroom material if you ask me, which elevates the film to a whole new (or at least different) level in certain scenes.

The acting is strong too, with Aaron Kwok putting in another solid performance as the main lead. But in the end it's actor Kai Chi Liu that makes the biggest impression here. He's an actor that's grown with age, cultivating strong facial features that allow him to wear deadpan expressions and still look like he's telling a whole story with one single glance. It would be nice to see him carry a whole film rather than have him act as mere support for the leads. Kwok and Chi Liu prove a golden duo once again and play an essential part in the underplayed comedy of The Detective 2.

If you're looking to be entertained by a well-developed detective story then Oxide's film might be a little on the fluffy side. Sure there are a couple of twists and halfway through the film there are a number of valid choices that could all be made into the true killer (these days I don't even bother with trying to guess who's the killer any more), but in the end you've all seen it before, probably even better.

But if you look past its somewhat simplistic plot there lies a lovely film, balancing two very different moods and blending them against all odds into a very stylish and entertaining film. Be prepared though as the quirky elements might come as somewhat of a surprise and might put you off at first. More seasoned viewers (and/or Johnnie To fans) will recognize them as the treats of this film though, settling for a very atmospheric and enjoyable experience.

The Detective 2 is a very solid sequel, somewhat different in tone and execution as the first film, but that's not really a bad thing. Oxide Pang is on to something here and I for one hope that the third film will bet made to complete this grade scale trilogy. If Oxide Pang can get Kwok and Chi Liu on board again for the final instalment, there's very little that can go wrong I think. Recommended, but watch C+ Jing Taam first. 4.0*/5.0*

There's a subbed trailer, just mind the mild spoilers.

Ming-Liang Tsai's films are an acquired taste, no doubt about that. If you plan on watching I Don't Sleep Alone without any prior knowledge of his previous films, I would advise you to reconsider. Not that I Sleep Alone is a (direct) sequel or anything, but even I, a seasoned Tsai fan, felt remarkably lost at some points. Familiarity with Tsai's typical style of film making will definitely help you through those moments.

Tsai's films are often advertised as humorous dramas, but don't be fooled by this categorization. While it's hard to contest the facts (his films are essentially a mix of drama and comedy), Tsai's humor is so dry and absurd that many people won't even pick it up. On top of that the pacing of his films is incredibly slow and the dramatic tension is quite low, so those of you expecting to sit down for an amusing piece of entertainment cinema will end up bored to death.

Even though I Don't Want To Sleep Alone sees Tsai experimenting just a little with his trademark style, it's still very much a Tsai film that will leave haters perplexed and annoyed. Once again we follow the adventures of Lee, who is now roaming the streets of Kuala Lumpur. It doesn't take long for Lee to get beat up and he ends up with a local guy taking care of him.

From there on things get a little vague. Since we only get to observe it's not always easy to keep track of the actual story. Tsai makes it even harder by having Lee play a second character, a rather dubious decision that complicates things a little too much. For a long time I figured the film was making time jumps, turns out these characters just aren't even related to each other.

Visually not much has changed. Tsai cuts as little as possible, playing scenes until they become just a little absurd, or until something genuinely moving happens. Kuala Lumpur provides some welcome variation from the usual Taipei sights, but apart from that Tsai paints his shots with as much precision and patience as he used to.

The soundtrack mostly consists of natural sounds and old Asian pop songs. The best is saved for last though, when a pure voice bursts through one of the most epic images in the whole film and blesses I Don't Want To Sleep Alone with one of the most immersive endings I've seen in a long time. Pure bliss, drawing strength for minimal resources, this is Tsai on top of his game. The beginning is a bit more noisy than I had come to expect from a Tsai film, but that seemed to be part of the Kuala Lumpur flow.

As always Kang-Sheng Lee takes on the lead role. He's been a constant throughout Tsai's films and will no doubt remain like that until Tsai's last film. It's an interesting career experiment that paid off for both parties quite well indeed. The acting is solid as always, though you have to appreciate the lack of dialogue and the more visual (yet still subtle) style of acting of Lee. His character is not all that easy to read, which will no doubt form a serious barrier for many of the viewers.

I Don't Want To Sleep Alone excels in showing the mundane. Simple actions that are usually left out of other films because they are deemed too boring, but which become touching and real when the camera remains fixed on these simple events. It's a somewhat unusual approach to cinema though, and so it's difficult to predict how an individual will react to it. There's only one way to find that out, which is by experiencing it yourself.

Still, the structure of the film is just a little too complex at times, which pulls the viewer's attention away from the core of Tsai's film, trying to find out what exactly is happening plot-wise. Lee's double role plays a big part in this and even though Tsai might have a proper motivation for this choice, I feel the film would've worked better if he had just chosen a different actor, or at least hinted more at the meaning behind the double role.

In the end I Don't Want To Sleep Alone is another typical Tsai film, with some slight experimentations that are in no way big enough to attract new viewers or to push away existing fans. If you're new to Tsai, try some of his earlier films first as they are a tad more accessible while still displaying his trademark style. This is a film that pretty much recommends itself and hopefully it will attract some new fans to the work of Tsai. 4.0*/5.0*

There's a nifty little trailer available, no subs needed, no spoilers.

If you aim to run a respectable front-end blog there are certain subjects that need to be tackled in order to build up credibility. IE bitching is a popular one, whining about lacking css support in browser X another, but there is one subject that could be considered the holy grail of front-end development. A subject that most of us fear and dislike, but is still one of the absolute cornerstones of the web today: forms. Be it styling or mark-up, forms remain a fickle element of our job.

36 Taipei Exchanges is one of the latest Taiwanese entries in the "cinema that makes you go hungry" category (Rinco's Restaurant, Kamome Diner). A pretty terrific entry too, as it adds some extra spice and flavor to what is essentially just a very simple and subtle light-hearted drama. Just make sure you have something to nibble on while watching as the will to fight your appetite will be tested quite heavily along the way.

If you own a restaurant and you need a promotional video for your business, you're best bet is to hire an Asian director and let him go berserk on your food. They seem to posses a special quality to make food appear even more tasty, almost mythical on film. I admit that it's a rather specific quality that's not very beneficial to the whole of mankind, but if you're planning to make a film on diners and restaurants it sure comes in handy.

36 Taipei Exchanges is a modest story about the start-up of a small café. The café is Doris' childhood dream, her sister is forced into the deal by Doris' rather pushy mom. At first the establishment is nothing special, serving coffee and tasty desserts only. But when the two sisters try to get rid of some unwanted opening gifts, Doris' sister comes up with a strong gimmick that steers the film in a whole new direction.

The opening gifts are put up for trade all over the café. The objects are not for sale (and will not be sold under any circumstance) but can only be traded for other goods. At first Doris is a little weary of the idea, she wants people to come and enjoy her pastry and not for the swapping gimmicks, but shortly after business picks up and Doris' place is becomes the talk of the town.

Like most Taiwanese dramas, 36 Taipei Exchanges has a solid visual foundation. The camera work is subtle and beautiful, the use of color is stylish and the editing soft and dreamy. From time to time Hsiao breaks through this traditional styling with some nifty little animations and a few documentary segments. These add a definite younger and fresher feel to the film, giving it a more unique and differentiating identity. Not a bad thing as many Taiwanese dramas tend to look quite alike.

The soundtrack too is a real asset to the film. Warm, soft and moody jazz-like tunes that slowly transport you to a fuzzy state of trance. It eases the mind and puts you in a comfortable little universe where life is good, the pastry tastes great and problems are never as serious as they would be in real life. The score has an essential part in defining the entire experience of the film, something that is as great as it is rare.

Acting too is solid. The two sisters are quite different in character and are not people you would usually expect to get along very well, but both actresses do pull it off with considerable grace. The supporting cast is rather small and insignificant, but they do a pretty decent job too. The focus remains on bother sisters though, who carry the film with deceptive ease.

At the surface 36 Taipei Exchanges is a simple film about the happenings of a start-up establishment, but there is a little more to it. Along the way the film questions the life choices of both sisters, inserting short street interviews where actual people are presented the same dilemmas. It's an interesting technique that highlights the main themes of the film without muddling them away in secondary layers. 36 Taipei Exchanges remains above all a light-hearted film and Hsiao doesn't jeopardizes that with too much highbrow abstractions or symbolism.

In the end the film reminded me a little of Café Lumiè, not because of the topic or because both directors are called Hsiao, but because both films feature that same dreamy, fuzzy, borderline sleepy atmosphere. 36 Taipei Exchanges allows you to drift away for a short while, feeling at ease and contented, enjoying the delicate beauty of life without too much negativity in sight.

If you like Asian food cinema, 36 Taipei Exchanges is a pretty wonderful addition to your list of must-see films. It's a small, delicate and subtle little film that feels fresher than its peers and excels in just about every way possible. One final note: I found that online people are using "Taipei Exchanges" as the official international title, but the 36 is clearly part of the title in poster as well as intro credits design. Definitely recommended, if you know what you're dealing with. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a subbed trailer available, small spoiler alert but watch it to catch a glimpse of the film's atmosphere.

Oblivion Island (Haruka and the Magic Mirror) was promoted as Production I.G's first real full-CG feature. This should have made it quite a bit easier to market to film to international audiences, but apart from a few festival screenings Oblivion Island failed to make a big international splash. It's not difficult to see why, though in my opinion these very elements only turn the film into a better and more interesting experience.

Production I.G used to be Japan's prime studio for mature, feature-length and quality animation films. There was no studio out there that could equal the level of excellence that went into their films. Once they started to go down the TV series road though, the drop in standards was instantly visible. It's not that they haven't made interesting films since, but somehow they failed to provide the constant stream of masterpieces they used to deliver. No doubt a very conscious decision from the higher-ups, but it was a real bummer for fans of the old I.G.

Oblivion Island may not be a true return to form (it's difficult to qualify it at the same level as films like Ghost in the Shell or Jin-Roh), but it's still a real delight for people who crave creative fantasy films. The story of Oblivion Island may follow the traditional road of a young girl tumbling into a fantasy world by accident (think Alice in Wonderland or Spirited Away), but there's a bit more to it. This particular world is filled with fox-like creatures who live of objects forgotten and abandoned by humans, building their society on what we left behind.

Once Haruko enters the other world and remembers a lost memento of her dead mother, she sets out to find it, trying to reclaim her property. Of course things don't go as smoothly as planned, as an evil baron has snatched it for his personal collection and he proves rather unwilling to return the memento to Haruko. A simple and typical structure that admittedly adds very little to existing fantasy stories, nor does it go through much trouble to provide decent background plots or decent motivations for its characters. If you think that's a bad thing, you might end up more than a little disappointed by the film.

As for the visuals, they are sure to divide audiences into two opposing camps. If you crave technical excellence than you will find quite a few flaws within the film. Even though Oblivion Island primarily features CG-based animation, there are some odd mixes of styles that don't always integrate too well together. Apart from that, character animation can be a little edgy from. But if you're looking for creativity and composition, this film easily beats the crap out of the competition. Oblivion Island's visual style brought back happy memories of Kakurenbo and Noiseman Sound Insect, two gloriously beautiful Studio 4C productions that feature similar detailed and colorful worlds.

The soundtrack is on the safe side, but still fits like a charm. It somehow reminded me of older Squaresoft RPGs (say Chrono Trigger), invoking that same feeling of light-hearted adventure and discovery. It's not the kind of music I'd listen to outside the context of a film, but that's not really what a good soundtrack is about. I can't say that it ever becomes an essential part of the experience, but it does lay a good basis for the adventurous atmosphere the film thrives on.

As for the voice acting, Production I.G never seems to fail there. Well-cast voice actors give an extra dimension to their characters. Never too obnoxious or in your face, the voices blend in very well with their surroundings and sculpt the characters as they move along.

Oblivion Island is not a film that will win many hearts with its elaborate plot or character development. It's a film that is mostly concerned with giving fantasy fans what they're craving for. The fantasy world that Haruka enters is lush, rich and colorful. It's creative, it's beautiful and diverse. Oblivion Island is a true roller coaster ride, trying to show you as much of it's fantasy world as humanly possible, within the tight constraints of its running time. Which, at least to me, is much more interesting that spending time on character development or motivations for the bad guy's actions.

Combine the work of Hayao Miyazaki with the work of Koji Morimoto and you'll have something that closely resembles this film. It's a true fantasy film that betrays I.G's struggle with full-CG animation, but makes up for that with excellent art direction and bucket loads of creativity. It's a fair trade-off and many will not be contented with what this film puts on offer, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

It's still a little sour seeing a production company like I.G focusing on lighter films like these, especially as there's no-one around to fill the emptiness they left behind. But in the end that's not this film's fault, and when judging Oblivion Island on its own merits it turns out to be a surprisingly lovable film. Definitely recommended if you're like me and consider its weaker points as necessary flaws that are aptly compensated in other, more important areas. 4.5*/5.0*

There's a subbed trailer, though I don't think it does much justice to the film.

How can it be that with several years of intense front-end experience, you can still get stuck implementing the most trivial of things from time to time. Not too long ago I okayed a design that seemed simple enough, but once I sat down to implement it (keeping in mind IE6/IE7 support) I hit a wall pretty quick. I've questioned the usefulness of html restrictions before (html headings and the footer attribute), the same argument can be made for restrictions on css properties.

James Wan (the man behind Saw) is back with a new film. It would be naive to expect him to reinvent the genre with every new horror film he makes, luckily Wan himself is smart enough not to fall into that very trap. Insidious is a film that borrows a lot from others, but originality is not something that is required to make a good horror flick. In the end, it's all about execution, and so there's no need to worry, Wan definitely knows what he's doing.

Whether you liked Saw or not, it's hard to ignore the influence that Wan's film had on the horror genre as a whole. Not only did it spawn a trillion sequels and rip-offs, Saw helped to polish up the image of the genre, urging other directors to use it once again as a springboard to broader recognition of their talent. Dead Silence and Insidious are nowhere near as influential and/or innovative, but as horror films they work just as well.

Wan's latest starts off as a typical haunted house flick. A young family moves into a new house, hoping their lives will make a turn for the better. Of course the house isn't as pleased as they are and before long they start seeing and hearing strange things. Wan simply goes through the motions of genre expectations, but from the very first scenes it's obvious that the man has mastered his trade. Even the simple scares (loud noises and flash edits) are very accurate and to the point, never missing their intended effect.

Halfway through the film Wan gives an interesting spin to the story and we're getting really close to Poltergeist territory. It's an interesting shift in focus that renews the interest of the audience and makes the second half not as obvious as initially expected. It's not that the film becomes wildly original all of a sudden, but the small twist is interesting enough by itself and makes for a more engaging finale.

When I left the theater I was convinced Wan must've had a decent budget to play around with. The camera work is slick, with many interesting pans and shots, the editing sharp and vivid and the general look of the film feels very consistent throughout. I was surprised to find out that the budget for Insidious was hardly any higher than Saw's original budget, and as much as I loved the rawer visuals of Saw, you can only show considerable respect for Wan if you see what he accomplishes with such a (relatively) small budget. Another testament that a film doesn't need a big budget to look attractive.

The soundtrack plays a big part in laying out the foundation for many of the scares and it's an essential part of the overall atmosphere of the film. It's true that loud noises are the quick road to jumpy audience reactions, the real trick is to have the audience accept it rather than have them feel cheated by a cheap scare. Wan's build-ups are near perfect, properly introducing scares, building them to considerable levels and still succeeding in surprising his audience. Of course timing is important, but the soundtrack is key in bringing it all together.

The acting overall is pretty decent, it's a shame that Patrick Wilson is not the most charismatic of all actors. He takes the lead but is easily surpassed by Byrne. A nice su