Saturday, May 31, 2014
Instant Action: Ninja (2009)
Ninjas with night vision is a pretty terrifying idea!
Written By: Boaz Davidson & Michael Hurst
Directed By: Isaac Florentine
There's some story at play in Ninja, and it's serviceable. That's faint praise, but it's okay for the story in a film that isn't really about a traditional plot based story to be merely okay. There's a good guy, a bad guy, some people who get caught in the middle, an object that is desired, and lots and lots of mayhem ensues. That story provides the framework for Isaac Florentine to film a pretty nifty action film. Ninja is first and foremost an action film, and there's nothing wrong with a well made action film, I'll let you in on that little secret for free.
The action in Ninja deserves to be focused on it because it is, as I said, pretty nifty. I was most impressed with the placement of Mr. Florentine's cameras. He presents a panorama of action with very little camera movement. Essentially he places his cameras in specific places and then allows for the action to come to the cameras. He's not so much interested in following the fray, but filming the fray as it happens. The end result is action that is both expansive and easy to follow. The filming of Ninja leaves the impression that there's more action taking place than meets the eye, if that makes any sense. It's kind of hard to describe, but because of the method Mr. Florentine uses to capture the action of the film there's a fullness to said action. Characters aren't confined to one corner of a room, or one floor of a building, the fight can take place anywhere and move anywhere.
Mr. Florentine is very adept during Ninja at making the action easy to follow. Ninja is not made using the disorienting Chaos Cinema approach to action that I loathe oh so much. No, the action in Ninja is of the sort where I can see a character get grabbed, know that he's near a window and then follow the action as he is thrown from the window and into the path of another oncoming train. Being able to follow the action is such a small thing, but it's very important when it comes to crafting an enjoyable action picture. Mr. Florentine gets it right when it comes to filming action and recognizing that the audience wants to be able to follow what is happening.
This is my first film from Scott Adkins, and I'll have to admit I wasn't super impressed. He was decent as Casey Bowman, but he didn't blow me away. There's a roughness to his style of martial arts that I could see working much better in a more brawling sort of film. He's not bad in Ninja, far from it, but for as much as he has been hyped up to me I'll need to see some better work from him in some other films for that hype to be warranted.
The same is not true of Mika Hijii, who I knew nothing about coming into Ninja and ended up being happily surprised by. She played Namiko quietly throughout, but when an action scene required her to get rough and tumble she more than had the goods. An important moment for me was her fight on the subway. She didn't shrink away like some sort of scared and fragile violet. She did some impressive ass kicking of her own, before succumbing to the simple laws of physics. Which was another aspect of the film I appreciated. I've grown a little tired of the hundred pound woman, or even man, who can take on numerous behemoths at the same time and prevail easily. Sometimes simple body weight and physics dictate that the smaller person is going to lose the fight, regardless of gender. I was happy that Ninja gave Namiko her time to shine, but also kept it real in regards to her size and the result of her fight based on said size.
I'm interested in seeing the rest of the Ninja films, as well as more from Misters Adkins and Florentine, and Hijii-sama. Ninja is the sort of direct to video goodness that is becoming harder and harder to find these days. It brings the action goods in thrilling and industrious ways. There are plenty of action films out there begging for your time. Trust me when I tell you that Ninja is one of the action films worth making the time to see.
Rating:
7/10
Cheers,
Bill Thompson
Episode #289: The Letter Runner
Welcome back for another episode of the GGtMC!!!
This week the Gents cover Letter Never Sent (1959) directed by
Mikhail Kalatozov and The Indian Runner (1991) directed by Sean Penn!!!
Direct download: ggtmc_289.mp3
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com
Adios!!!
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Revenge Is My Destiny (1971)
And then there was the time I
stabbed myself in the eye. I was prying
the top hinge cap off a refrigerator with a flat screwdriver when the driver
slipped off the cap, slid right past my glasses, and jammed straight into my
eye. If you have ever met me, I bet you
couldn’t tell which one it is could you?
That’s because I didn’t lose the eye, thankfully; just put a nice ding
in it (unlike proto-Snake-Plissken Ross Archer [Christopher Robinson] in Joseph
Adler’s Revenge Is My Destiny). My optometrist gave me eye drops. Hooray.
Those who do manual labor on a
regular basis can attest to the myriad injuries (minor and not-so-minor) that
one can and will incur no matter how careful one is, leaving one with a certain
stunned stoicism immediately afterward (“well, that happened”). The question then becomes, “do I go to the ER
for this one?” My general rule of thumb
is, unless I stand to die and/or lose an appendage, that’s not necessary. Many is the time I’ve had to wrap gashed open
knuckles with about a half roll of paper towels and electrical tape to get the
wound to seal and prevent me from bleeding out all over a person’s
appliance. The judicious application of
hydrogen peroxide and a well-stocked bandage supply carry the rest of the
day. I don’t think this necessarily
makes me a hard ass (I think I’m quite the opposite), but maybe it’s somewhat
hereditary. One of my brothers has been
known to stitch himself up after rugby injuries and even took a Dremel to his
teeth to make them flat across (don’t ask).
Then again, maybe this aversion is all born out of fear. After all, you know what you have with a limb
split open at home. You never know what
the hell will happen to you in a hospital (especially our local one, but that’s
a whole other issue).
After having it out with some
Viet Cong, Ross is injured by mortar fire and captured (we get to see up to the
injury portion in the prologue). One
year later he returns home, a newly-eyepatched man, only to find his wife
Angela (Elisa Ingram) gone and go-go
dancer Ellie (Patricia Rainier)
taking up her space in his houseboat (which is more like just a boat on which
Ross happens to live). Driven by a
burning hatred, Ross scours the Florida underbelly and begins to turn up much
more than he anticipated.
Like so many movies that came out
in the wake of disillusionment that ended the Sixties, Adler’s is also about the damage done by war generally and the atrocities
of the Vietnam War specifically. The VC
at the film’s open have no problems shelling peasants, clearly marking them in
cinematic terms as bad guys. However,
the tables are turned and evened in short order when Ross drowns an enemy
combatant only to discover it was a woman.
For when this film was produced, I’m sure this twist was pretty
shocking, and it is certainly emphasized to the audience in the dramatic use of
music. Seconds later, Ross is
injured. He is punished not only for
killing a woman (in a time of war, granted) but also for partaking in the war
in the first place, and the two together make him worthy of being sanctioned.
Once back in America Ross is
still filled with hate, only now it’s aimed at his wife who, from what we’re
told, basically just dropped off the face of the Earth while Ross was in a POW
camp (the VC woman is a stand-in for Angela and Ross’s subconscious [and
conscious] desire to hurt her). The loss
of his eye is the physical toll of his choices, but the scars of war travel
deeper in Ross. We get the distinct
impression he was something of a prick even before Vietnam. His experiences overseas didn’t change him so
much as augment him. It is the actions
he takes pursuing his wife which will determine the arc of his destiny. These two, in fact, have a strong love/hate
relationship, and this is what draws them to each other (“Can I get in touch
with you?” “You’re just begging me to
break your neck, aren’t you?”). This is
also why Ross may have a tryst with Ellie, but he can never have a long term relationship
with her. She’s too nice. There’s nothing about her to hate, so the
hate Ross would need in order to love her would never be sustainable.
The search for Angela is Ross’
search for completion. They are two
halves of a whole, both of which are kind of shitty. This is highlighted in the beach
footage. Early on, we see Ross in
silhouette running into golden surf.
Later, Ross and Angela are shown at a beach from the same angle, only
now it is at night. Later still, Ross
and Angela’s story will come full circle, and this will also occur on a moonlit
beach. Water as a rebirth motif is
strong in the film. Ross wants to wash
away what he was before he came back from Vietnam (especially the “sin” he
committed against the VC woman despite this being something Ross craved at that
moment), though it’s pure yearning at this point. His relationship with Angela is reborn at the
ocean. His fate is resolved at the
ocean. He lives on a boat, and he wants
to find himself abroad, wandering the ocean.
Sonny Crockett could probably learn a thing or two from Ross Archer.
All that said, I think the film
is mistitled, quite frankly. Revenge in Revenge Is My Destiny is not focused on
strenuously. If anything, this is a
gritty, pulp action story, straight out of a men’s adventure magazine. There are convolutions on top of convolutions
in the plotting. They do connect up by
the end, but the route they take to do so is circuitous. The script is something to which I think Ellroy, Lansdale, Thompson, or Westlake would be proud to have their
name attached. Oh, it has its share of
problems. There is the facility of low
budget filmmaking that spans plot holes for the sake of putting film in the can
and footage on the screen, most noticeable in the fact that it feels a lot like
two film plots pushed together. The
pacing could be tightened up some. But
there is a charm at work here, and there are some decent action scenes that
give a nice dose of value to the production.
Part of me is surprised to not hear this film discussed more among crime
and cult movie circles, and that’s a shame because it certainly warrants some
attention. Hopefully this little review
will help get it some. Okay, even I
laughed at that one a little bit.
MVT: The film has an
unassuming, forthright attitude which fits it like a new pair of lifting
gloves. This is stripped down, almost
raw storytelling which isn’t hurt by its shortcomings; it is enhanced by them,
in my opinion.
Make Or Break: The opening
scene in Vietnam is impressive. It
clearly was made on the cheap, but the action has a nice sense of scale, and it
is blocked out solidly, so we know what is happening at all times. Lots of films from this era and of this ilk
don’t even give you that much.
Score: 6.75/10
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Episode #288: The Town That Evicted A Comet
Welcome back to another episode of the GGtMC!!!
This week our episode is brought to you by the fine folks at
diabolikdvd.com and it was Sammy's turn to program the episode. We are
reviewing Night of the Comet (1984) directed by Thom Eberhardt, The Town That Dreaded Sundown (1976) and The Evictors (1979) both directed by
Charles B. Pierce!!!
We hope you enjoy the episode and head over to diabolikdvd.com and
buy some goodies and tell them the Gents from the GGtMC sent you over!!!
Direct download: ggtmc_288.mp3
Emails to midnitecinema@gmail.com
Adios!!!
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Born Of Fire (1987)
The five of you who regularly read
these missives of mine may recall that I’ve mentioned in the past that I play
bass (or have; it’s been a while). I
have no aptitude for reading music; I was simply gifted with a reasonably good
ear and a knack for mimicry. Helpful,
since I started off playing punk and hardcore music with my first electric bass. Wait, that’s not entirely true. I did at one point in time learn to read
music. When I was in grade school, we
had a music class (it was pretty much mandatory, but then again, we had small
classes), and it all commenced with the flutophone (essentially the red-headed
stepchild of the recorder). Once a week,
Mrs. Doyle would come into our classroom, and she would go over scales and songs
(she used to say the Bs were flat because she sat on them; har dee har
har). It was fun, as it should be.
Eventually, we all graduated to
stringed instruments, and my choice was the double bass. We would learn a couple of songs for the
annual “concert,” and one of them was invariably Hot Cross Buns which would be played in pizzicato. It should go without saying that the truly
unsubtle plinking of sixth-grade fingers on the instruments’ strings was like a
concerto in Hell. Like the music in Jamil Dehlavi’s Born Of Fire but without the practiced musicianship. Since I didn’t keep up with playing after the
classes were discontinued, any skill for reading eventually faded away. I don’t really mourn this lack of expertise,
but every now and again I think maybe I should give proper music training
another go. Just one more in an
ever-growing list of woulda, coulda, shouldas in my life. Onward and upward…
When a truly unusual solar
eclipse occurs (a skull passes in front of our lovely Sol) and a volcano
thought extinct suddenly erupts, an astronomer (Suzan Crowley, credited only as The Woman) just knows something is
up. So, what would you do? Well, it doesn’t
matter, because she goes to a concert showcasing flautist Paul (Peter Firth), who suddenly has visions
of a woman (you’ll never guess who) being attacked by a group of men and hears
music that he is not playing. Stringing together
clues about his deceased father’s quest for the Master Musician (Oh-Tee), Paul decides to travel to
Turkey and search out the truth.
The film starts with this quote
from Celaleddin Rumi: “In the rhythm
of music a secret is hidden: If I were to divulge it, it would overturn the
world.” Intriguing stuff. Music, as a form of expression in the film,
is a pathway to the soul and to ultimate power.
But it can be used for good as well as for evil, and at least in some part,
the film is about finding one’s voice in this way (which does your soul contain
or contain more?). The Master Musician
does not speak a single word; the only noise he makes emanates from his flute
(and surely there’s nothing phallic about that). His music causes chaos and disorder, makes
the Earth revolt against itself, calls forth the fire from its inner
depths. Paul’s journey is about
discovering the power of the music within himself (“your flute will guide you;”
again, nothing phallic to see here) and commanding the Everlasting Note (via
circular breathing? We’re never
told). But it is his search for this
inner music that can also kill him if he cannot understand its might. The Silent One (Nabil Shaban) is a deformed mute.
He is twice cursed, since he is an outcast from his village and, perhaps
more importantly, he has no voice or instrument. In this world, he is utterly powerless. For him, though, his destiny will be shaped
by tragedy and will even cross both value lines. The Woman is a catalyst for emotion for all
the characters, and while she plays an important part in the story, she cannot
shape it because she has already been shaped by it. In effect, she is an instrument as much as
the flutes and somewhat passive in the grand scheme of things.
Alongside this element is the
allegorical struggle between good and evil, where the Devil (or Iblis) is
embodied by the Master Musician and Mankind is embodied by Paul (and his father
before him). It is the playing out of
Lucifer’s contempt for men preceding his fall from Heaven. Since he refused to kneel before men, he was
cast out, and the Musician dwells in a deep cavern by an abandoned mosque to
symbolize Hell. When we are first
introduced to Paul, it is in a shot that begins on the apse of a church
depicting God in Heaven and tilts down to Paul playing his concert. It associates him with the power of Good
while also placing him underneath Heaven; he’s another pawn in the conflict,
his significance notwithstanding. Paul’s
apartment is decorated with intricately latticed woodwork like you might find
in a church, and he even has a pew in his loft.
The battle is also symbolized in the use of fire and water/ice. Paul’s father was found burned to death. The Master Musician commands flames from his
eyes, mouth, his flute, and the Earth itself.
The Djinn character is basically a fire elemental distinguished by its
burnt flesh and smoking footprints. Conversely,
there is an icefall where a character is killed. It is also the place which will protect Paul
as he grasps for his musical/spiritual mastery.
The waterfalls Paul passes on his journey is considered the graveyard of
the Djinn, water conquering fire like scissors beats paper.
While you could pick apart the
metaphors in Born Of Fire all day,
the film by itself is something of a mess from a storytelling aspect. The performances are cold, the characters
always at a remove. This does play into the
point of the film, but it can make for some hard going. Further, the editing is unconcerned with any
real cohesion. Paul sees the Djinn on
the side of the road, stops, and appears to approach her. Cut to: Paul arriving at the village. Later, he plays the Master Musician’s flute,
and as we anticipate some sort of climax, the filmmakers again just cut to
another scene, behaving as if nothing of any consequence has happened. There are elisions of time we cannot fully
connect, though to some degree it feels as if we are expected to have
done. Even the basic premise is engaged
and discarded almost randomly throughout, and this confuses the figurative
facets somewhat, since the film appears to make points and then its own
counterpoints, sometimes within moments of each other. In spite of this, I did find myself enjoying
the film, though more for its provocation of thought and its stunning
cinematography, courtesy of Bruce
McGowan, than as an entertaining
narrative.
MVT: When I boil it down,
the beauty of the film is truly impressive.
Even when not being used symbolically, the camerawork and compositions
are gorgeous and often even breathtaking to behold.
Make Or Break: There is a
scene at the icefall which involves some profuse bleeding. It is horrifying and beauteous at the same
time, and for me at least, this is the image which will remain stuck in my head
from the film most of all.
Score: 6/10
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