Sion Sono does not only offer an eloquent celebration of the beauty of the crazy little thing called desire, but also delivers a truly powerful encouragement for the contemporary subject to unshackle himself from the societal or psychological imposed restrictions and fight for his/her desire.
In a languid but highly transparent way, Ohmori confronts the spectator with the subjective and interpersonal ravage the insatiable desire for love and the need for a proof of the other’s love eventually causes.
Yamada still delivers that what makes Tora-san so enjoyable for audiences: his problematic truth; that the little freedom he has in relation to the Other condemns him to an existence of being, over and over again, duped by that very Other
“A piece of Japanese cinema history that no cinephile should miss.”
“A slow but beautiful meditation on the necessity for the subject to utilize the signifier and speak with others and to the Other in order for start the process of subjectify the loss/the real that has derailed them.”
Fukushima’s latest might lack the depth some other short films have, this does not stop his Sci-fi romance music video from being a pleasant narrative that also succeeds in touching the spectator.
Norifumi Suzuki’s narrative is not only a pleasing narrative full of betrayal, cat-fights between clans, rape, extortion, and acts of revenge, but also a powerful critique against the inherent perversity of hierarchical society.
With ‘Malu’, Edmund Yeo proves that he is a master visual poet of the mundane and of the ‘cruel’.
A great indie romance film that underlines the very importance for subjects to establish inter-subjective (romantic) relationships.
His peaceful slice-of-life narrative delivers an pleasing exploration of the notion of the family secret and how guilt can drive people to pay of their imagined debt.
Ishii’s latest is not only a highly relevant narrative, especially for Japanese subjects, it might very well be the best Japanese film of this year.
Miike’s horror-narrative provides all the thrills, and tropes for that matter, fans of J-horror have come to expect from the genre.
With his simple, gentle, and authentic exploration of how a pregnancy rewrites one’s current and future life, Tsuda proves that one does not need a complex narrative or a profound thematic depth to touch the spectator.
“A great narrative that does not only show that family happiness is but a semblance – behind the smiles hides pain and sadness – but also the very fact that the subject can only grasp his present subjective state by narrativizing (and, in many cases idealize) his past.”