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Back last March, in one of my several posts discussing the pros and cons of 3D, I wrote a brief piece entitled Welcome to the Feelies, inspired by Kenta Fukasaku’s recently-released part-3D erotic thriller Perfect Education: Maid For You. Not even 18 months on and already Fukasaku’s film seems like a dim and distant memory, and quite rightly so one might add, but nevertheless one which it is perhaps worth invoking as Metrodome sits poised to release the Hong Kong production of 3D Sex & Zen: Extreme Ecstasy theatrically across the UK from 2 September.

This new film is interesting in a number of respects, not least in that after the deluge of CGI cartoons and post-produced horror and action movies from the commercial mainstream last year, 2011 has so far seen the release of two noteworthy 3D titles produced outside of Hollywood which have managed to compete successfully in the specialist arthouse market for subtitled films and documentaries. I’m thinking, of course, of Cave of Forgotten Dreams and Pina, both of which were originally conceived of as 3D projects and which attempted to harness the added illusionary senses of depth and volume permitted by the format in a different way than, for example, the 3D mainstream studio releases of this year. You’ll be able to watch the likes of Thor or The Green Hornet ‘flat’ on DVD without losing too much of what was intended from the experience, but I don’t think one can honestly say the same for Werner Herzog’s or Wim Wenders’ films, where 3D is integral to the diegesis.

Sensory overload - Wim Wender's astounding 3D documentary portrait of Pina Bausch's experimental dance troupe

This suggests that, to cite but the one example of the UK’s 19-venue strong arthouse chain Picturehouse (the company also programmes 36 “independent” venues), the exhibition sector sees a future in 3D cinema that goes beyond it being a mere bolt-on gimmick aimed at adding a further layer of lustre to otherwise generic popcorn releases. It also demonstrates that we’re now in an era, unlike the 1950s when the format was first introduced into the mainstream, where 3D production technology isn’t necessarily the exclusive reserve of the capital-rich major studios (although one should note that Bwana Devil was an independent production).

Of course, we’re still getting the usual guff from anti-3D lobby that the medium is beginning to lose its box-office pulling power. A recent article in The Economist entitled ‘Flat expectations: 3D films, cinema’s great hope, have become niche products’ states that ‘Four of the past five 3D blockbusters—“Pirates of the Caribbean”, “Kung Fu Panda 2”, “Green Lantern” and “Harry Potter”—made more money from 2D screens on their opening weekend than from 3D ones.’ It’s worth looking at the wording here, particularly the emphasis on ‘opening weekend’, because a recent article on the latest Pirates of the Caribbean instalment, On Stranger Tides, in the July 2011 edition of Screen International, states that the film, which has already entered the top 10 worldwide grossers of all time, “has made approximately 64% of its international gross from 3D screens.” Even with straightforward Hollywood films, the novelty hasn’t quite worn off.

The contours of Chauvet Cave perfectly preserved in Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams

But it is perhaps in the indie/arthouse sector, far more prone to taking risks than Hollywood and a market in which the majority of viewers prefer to watch films in cinemas rather than home alone, where we’re going to see the most interesting developments in 3D cinema, as Picturehouse must have realised when they acquired Cave of Forgotten Dreams to distribute themselves in the UK (see Screen Daily article here). I should emphasise, I use the word ‘interesting’ in its broadest sense, regardless of the artistic merits of the films in question. What I personally am finding fascinating are the trends in production and distribution of these films in the face of how the evolution of a new cinematic aesthetic is being brought about by developments in its technology, and how this intersects with audiences at the point of exhibition. As I’ve said on numerous occasions, stereoscopic digital 3D might not be the future of cinema, but it is a future of cinema.

As a subtitled film, 3D Sex & Zen already counts as minority interest in English-language markets, although Metrodome’s press notes emphasise the film’s prior successes of sell-out opening weeks in Hong Kong, New Zealand and Australia, and the film taking over $1.1 million on just 6 screens in Australia alone. Of course, there are few genres with greater crossover potential than Orientalist sex movies, you hardly need to tell me that, and the third dimension is hardly going to hamper the film’s box-office potential.

3D Sex & Zen - Asian softcore, always a winner

Still, in terms of ambition as much as execution, 3D Sex & Zen, directed by Christopher Suen, is not only poles apart from the two German auteurs’ recent 3D tryouts, but also from previous milestones in intellectual exotica such as Nagisa Oshima’s In the Realm of the Senses (1976), Peter Greenaway’s The Pillow Book (1996) or even Mira Nair’s Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love (1996). If there was more tittering than genuine titillation in the screening room where I caught a press showing of the film, that’s probably because behind the period detail and sumptuous exotic sets beats the bawdy heart of Benny Hill, with producer Stephen Shiu (also behind the original 1991 film, though not the 1996 and 1998 spinoffs) pitching the film as an erotic comedy, not a highbrow adaption of the seventeenth classic Chinese erotic novel written by Li Yu on which it is loosely based.

The plot, in a nutshell, follows the erotic exploits of a cocksure young intellectual named Wei Yangshang during the Ming Dynasty, who decides to embark on a sensual odyssey when his young bride Tie Yuxiang, the daughter of a Buddhist priest, fails to respond in a suitably enthusiastic manner to his fumbling attempts at lovemaking. It transpires Tie’s lack of bedroom ardour is not entirely her fault, but more down to the stubby, inconsequential dimensions of her husband’s cock, but by the time this has been surgically remedied with the transplant of the somewhat more substantial organs of a donkey, which Wei puts to good use in the Pavilion of Ultimate Bliss in the Prince of Ning’s Tower of Rarities, his beautiful young bride appears to have slipped away beyond his reach.

3D Sex & Zen, "the world’s first 3D erotic film", ish...

I’ve not seen any of the original Sex & Zen films, although they were distributed on video in the UK sometime back, but the brand should be fairly well-known, if only by name and reputation, to most Asian cinema devotees. One thing that interests me is how the film is being promoted by Metrodome as “the world’s first 3-D erotic film”, something which some critics, such as Ben Child for The Guardian (see ‘Chinese 3D porn film may get sequel’ article from 15 April) seem to have taken on trust – although bizarrely the text where he makes this assertion links back to a Hollwood Reporter article by Karen Chu from 14 April (‘No ‘Sex’ for Imax, but ‘3D Zen’ Film Eyes Sequel’, linked here) that repeatedly states it is “the first 3D erotic film from Hong Kong”. Well, in my post from last year, alongside Perfect Education, I also mentioned a couple of other 3D sex movies from the 1960s and 1970s – Al Silliman Jr.’s The Stewardesses (1969) and Pete Walker’s Four Dimensions of Greta (1972) – while I should also add that Koji Seki made a 3D pink film entitled Abnormal Pervert (Hentai-ma) in 1969 and, if one wants to stretch the definition of “erotic film” further, various adult internet sites have been offering 3D services of late. I am sure there are plenty of other examples, but I guess what they mean is that this is the first of the new wave of theatrically-distributed 3D films to sell itself on its sexual content. I’m not sure I’d go as far as to label it a porn film – there’s a lot of nudity there, its true, but no explicit portrayals of sexual activity. Still, I guess the marketing approach has worked – Hong Kong cinema doesn’t otherwise get much coverage in British newspapers nowadays.

When will the ever learn? A medium close up shot in 3D throws the background out of focus

In any measure, while the new Sex & Zen film is certainly not without its points of interest, the 3D element is probably its least satisfactory aspect. Its makers have fundamentally failed to understand what does and doesn’t work in 3D. For a start, the majority of the shots range from mid-shot to close-up, which severely reduces depth of field, throwing the backgrounds completely out of focus and destroying the whole illusion of an existing real space in front of the camera. Related to this, one wonders if 3D is particularly well-suited to erotic cinema in the same way that, for example, the 2.35:1 widescreen ratio, matching the dimensions of the recumbent human body, was to Japanese pinku eiga productions in the 1960s. Unlike the use of 3D in Cave of Forgotten Dreams, which emphasised the textures and curvature of the cave surface under different lighting conditions to give a sense of its dimensions (rather than separating the image into a series of planes of varying degrees of depth as seems to be the case in a lot of films where the 3D is done in post-production), or the arrangement of moving bodies within a tangible physical space of Pina (or even last year’s Streetdance 3D and StepUp 3D), in many of the sex scenes, the points of visual interest represented by the writhing naked bodies are staged at a fixed focal length, up close and personal to the proxy voyeur of the camera, occluding all background elements.

Close up shots in 3D can't even keep the whole body in focus - note the blurred rear-end, and the complete lack of any background detail

At its best, 3D should give the viewer a wider range of possibilities to scan the scene and take in its details, but in these examples, such avenues are totally blocked off, with nothing visible behind the flat planes of foreground nudity. There’s no attempt at staging in depth, of organising different levels of visual stimulus or visual interest along the the Z-axis. Put simply, there’s just nowhere for the eyes to go. A notable shot of one of the actresses thrusting her breasts outwards at the viewer is one of the few in which the 3D aspects are even noticeable, but still the effect is jarring, and comically so.

My own observations based on watching quite a lot of the recent 3D releases, and which I outlined in my recent Shock Labyrinth 3D review on Midnight Eye, is that the format works best when it is least intrusive, with scenes filmed in long shot and in long takes, and the camera moving and choreographed in such a way that the depth planes of the screen are actually exploited to hide or reveal pieces of narrative information. Instead of thinking of what the latest superhero movie is going to look like in 3D, can we imagine what films like Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope might look like? In an interview published in Sight & Sound in April, Werner Herzog stated “this is my dictum: you can shoot a porno film in 3D, but you cannot film a romantic comedy in 3D.” I, however, would like filmmakers to use more imagination, because on the evidence of my viewing, it is when 3D is used for spectacle that the illusion of cinema breaks down. 3D might turn out to be intrinsically unsuitable for porn or actions films, but if used subtly and intelligently, it may be better suited for thrillers and comedies.

One way of keeping everything in focus in mid shots is to block off the background - but then, why use 3D in the first place if you're not going to make use of screen depth?

What 3D does is essentially make us question the very definition of ‘realism’ in cinema, further complicating an already contentious field of argument. Pornography trades upon this idea of “realism”, or hyper-realism; that we’re seeing “more” of the object than we might in real life, from all angles, inside and out, and the more we are shown, the more we want to see. This desire for complete visual knowledge, both to get beneath the skin of the subject so to speak and ‘consume’ it in its entirety, is certainly not limited to pornography, but has been the driving force for advances in film technology and in particular films that celebrate this technology – Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within and Avatar are perfect examples, where immersive cinematic worlds are created that challenge the viewer to scrutinise them from every angle. If knowledge is power, then one might say this is indeed empowering for the viewer, but it can be frustrating too, as one is always aware that at the heart of these ‘realistic’ portrayals of unrealistic worlds is spectacle and showmanship, something which I argued in my first Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle posting inspired by my viewing of Cameron’s film. I also reviewed a book, Akira Mizuta Lippit’s Atomic Light (Shadow Optics) for Midnight Eye a few years back (follow link here) that explored some of these various ideas surround cinema’s ability to visualise the invisible, and how technology has been developed to pander to our overwhelming quest for visual knowledge. So in this sense, we might agree with Herzog’s comments about 3D being perfectly suited for pornography, in that pornography is presented as a spectacle that appeals to the viewer to consume visually its subject in its entirety.

But there’s another kind of realism that 3D, and 3D alone, is more ideally suited to satisfying, which is providing a perfect representation of the profilmic scene with its dimensions preserved intact while suppressing any awareness on the part of the viewer of the technology used to create the illusion. Traditional “flat” cinema, no matter how ‘realistic’ it strives to be, cannot do this because ultimately we are always aware that the images we are watching are 2-dimensional projections in which a certain amount of spatial information has been inevitably lost (think of something like Sokurov’s Russian Ark). When we watch Pina, we are not being dazzled by the 3D spectacle of the film itself, but the faithfully reproduced performance within the film. Similarly, what is impressive in Cave of Forgotten Dreams is the Palaeolithic cave art rendered onscreen with a perfect fidelity to the original cave surface containing the drawings; the camera is the proxy for the viewer, taking us into spaces we cannot ourselves go. In both cases, it is what is in front of the camera that is important, not the post-production editing work that manipulates the spatial and temporal flow of the profilmic scene.

3D Sex & Zen, ultimately not unlike a conventional 2D film

While 3D film, and indeed cinema in general, has historically traded upon showmanship and spectacle, to my mind these examples show that the best examples of 3D occur when the techniques unique to cinema that have evolved over the past hundred or so years, of editing and switching between different viewpoints and different length lenses for dramatic effect, are as much as possible eradicated. Instead, filmmakers working in 3D might do better concentrating on reproducing a scene as if it were being witnessed live by the viewer sitting in their cinema seats. A new set of rules, a new set of challenges, but it is going to be really interesting to see whether there’ll be films in the coming years that explore the potential of the format more satisfyingly.

3D Sex & Zen isn’t a film that pushes any envelopes in this respect, it’s true, but just as one might argue that the 3D adds very little to the film, the flipside is that it won’t lose anything by being viewed flat either. At the end of the day, it’s an entertaining enough period sex romp with a ribald sense of humour and an acute awareness of its place in the market. As such, it makes for a good pre-pub evening out, and personally I thought found the penis transplant scene pretty damn funny…

It’s much, much later than planned, but here’s the second instalment of my report on Bradford Film Festival’s Widescreen Weekend… It already seems such a long time ago, as the weather has undergone a miraculous transformation in the meantime, but here seems as good a time as any to point out that my intro to Dersu Uzala is now online on the in70mm website. But anyway, onto Day 2.

It is no real surprise that a festival devoted to widescreen cinema should feature such epic films as those mentioned in my previous post, monumental works by the likes of David Lean and Akira Kurosawa that seek to overwhelm the viewer with their sheer sense of scale and in which landscape plays a crucial role. Adventure films, war films, religious epics and period dramas – these are the genres traditionally favoured by those who choose to work on such large canvasses. The second day of the festival, however, featured two titles that initially seemed rather misplaced; one, a children’s fantasy film realised with puppets, and the other an 85-minute concert film featuring artists from one of British pop history’s most unassuming of genres. Nostalgia played a role in my appreciation of both, but it certainly wasn’t the only factor.

The Skeksis lock swords in The Dark Crystal, in 70mm.

I saw The Muppet Show-creators Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s The Dark Crystal when it came out back in 1982. I’d have been about eleven or twelve at the time, and I can pretty much guarantee that the print the Astor Cinema in Barnstaple played would not have been a 70mm one. I probably saw it a couple of times on TV back in the 1980s, but I think it’s fair to say that this is a film that has pretty much receded back into the mists of time for me. Given how we’ve become so accustomed to CG over the past decade, I’d geared myself up to be pretty disappointed by its use of old-school live-action puppetry upon its Saturday morning airing in Bradford (ostensibly a Kids Screening ticketed at a give-away quid a kid, although the audience seemed predominantly made up of Widescreen Weekend passholders at the other end of the age spectrum).

Jen the Gelfling, in the undergrowth of The Dark Crystal's lush and detailed world.

I was pleasantly surprised at how well the film held up to scrutiny. OK, so the story is basically Lord of the Rings-Lite and the general approach to it as portentous as any other fantasy made in the 1980s, but the general look of the film was as impressive as ever, benefiting from its mist-shrouded locations and atmospheric background mattes rather than the hyper-real sheen of, for example, Peter Jackson’s takes on Tolkein – and without such moments of video-game action silliness as the scene in Jackson’s third film of Legolas bounding up the Oliphaunt’s leg. I kept looking for the strings on its Gelfling main characters of Jen and Kira, but The Dark Crystal successfully managed to pass off its illusion. The other thing I loved about it, apart from the fact that the characters all had British accents, was the level of periphery detail, especially in the forest scenes, which teem with all sorts of bizarre critters who pop out of holes or flounder around in swamps, filmed in a surreal but witty manner that recalls a puppet version of the weird nature documentaries of Jean Painlevé. Doing a bit of background research, I noticed a sequel was announced just last year, which is to be filmed in 3D. I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry, but anyway, I did enjoy my 70mm reacquaintance with the original immensely, so I’ll be following the news on the upcoming film’s website with some interest, and while I can safely say that I’ll never see the film looking as good as it did on its wide-gauge projection on the massive screen of Bradford’s Pictureville cinema, I should point you in the direction of the Region Free Blu-Ray of the film which can be currently had for a mere £6.99 on Amazon.

Puppetry in motion - The pre-CG world of The Dark Crystal.

What I love most about film festivals is that thrill of stumbling upon absolute gems where you’d least expect them. I wasn’t sure what to expect from Dance Craze (1981), mainly because I’d barely registered its presence until I looked at the catalogue to see what the next screening held for me. The lack of stills in the Bradford International Film Festival catalogue meant it didn’t exactly leap out from the line-up, but at the end of the day, not only was it the highpoint of the weekend for me. I honestly don’t think I’ll see another film this whole year that will put such a huge smile on my face and keep it plastered there, not just for its hour-and-a-half duration, but for the entire week after. Dance Craze was ineffably brilliant, a bare bones concert film featuring the top talent ska bands of the era, The Beat, The Specials, The Selector (my favourite), The Bodysnatchers (no, I don’t remember them), and Madness and Bad Manners, before they both degenerated into the Top-of-the-Pop silliness I remember them for (a fate avoided by the first four bands, who either split up, renamed or regrouped before we had a chance to get bored of them). A number of people I’ve subsequently spoken to remember the tie-in Dance Craze album released by Chrysalis, but it seems hardly anyone remembers the film itself.

Dance Craze, not screened since the days you could buy a soundtrack album on vinyl for only £3.49 AND get a free poster!

So why the hell had I never heard about it before? Well, the lack of suitable venues with the facilities to project it seems to be the main reason. According to cinematographer Joe Dunton, who was not only on hand to introduce the film, but his illuminating onstage interview with Thomas Hauerslev following the screening can be found here on in70mm.com, a decision was made to produce the film in 70mm (or more accurately in SUPER 35, which was then blown up to 70mm), in order to exploit a format that seemed in danger of going out of fashion, as the declining fortunes of the film industry in the late-1970s saw a general retrenchment of the type of films Widescreen Weekend celebrates in the wake of the new phenomena of winner-takes-all blockbusters like Jaws, Star Wars and Grease. As Dunton explained, “I then had the idea to make a film that was not ‘a third row film’, – not shot from the audience, from the third row; everyone shot concert films from the third row, and it does not mean anything, and because the bands were young bands I ended up being on stage with them.” While Joe Massot, who had helmed the Led Zeppelin concert film The Song Remains the Same (1976) is credited as director, the heavy use of Steadicams operated by an onstage Dunton means it was more likely he who really controlled the show – if we can indeed say that, as he’s so close up to the action (including some a few pretty rowdy stage invasions) he often feels like another organic component of the bands, one of the musicians himself, and very much a part of the onstage madness. It is this up-close-and-personal style that makes the film such a joy, as well as the sheer exuberance of the songs themselves, gems such as The Specials’ “Too Much Too Young”, The Beat’s “Mirror in the Bathroom” , The Selector’s “On My Radio” and Madness’ “One Step Beyond”.

Coventry's finest, The Selector, in Dance Craze as screened at Widescreen Weekend. As you can see, the print has deteriorated a little, and is a tad pink-tinged. Photo taken by Thomas Hauerslev and originally appearing on the in70mm.com website.

So as far as I could work out, this was the first screening of Dance Craze in the UK pretty much since it came out, as there have simply been no prints available to screen from except the one in Dunton’s possession. Sure, it has circulated on bootleg video, DVD and now online, but lets put it plain and simply, these versions look and sound shit, and Dunton himself seems pretty annoyed that a film that was meant to be so immersive has been put out illegally in such inferior copies. He did hint that he was going to make a digital version, possibly for Blu-Ray release and for film festivals, and I really pray that he does. As he said, this film was not made for television, and works optimally on as large a screen as possible. What I think would be amazing is to do this as an outdoor screening with all seats removed and the volume pumped up as loud as possible so audiences can just mosh along to it. Not only are there no concert films quite like it, but it captures a uniquely English form of music at a unique time in British history, when you first saw black and white musicians onstage together, when it was still possible to smoke onstage, and when bands could pack out sizeable concert venues without all the Simon Cowell glitz and flimflam, performing on basic, unadorned stages and with little division between the bands and the audiences.

Latterly known as The English Beat, these guys were sitll very much The Beat at the time of Dance Craze.

So I’ll just end by saying, I don’t know whether Dunton will hold true to his promise of striking up a new digital print of the film, but if there are any interested film festivals, venues or distributors out there who are interested, heh, do you fancy getting together and lobbying for this to happen? It’s simply too depressing to imagine I might never see the film again as it should be seen, on the big screen, and I really think there are a lot of people out there who would appreciate it being resurrected for other festivals.

As you can read on the in70mm.com profile on him here, Joe Dunton is actually a pretty legendary figure in film technical circles, having come up with numerous inventions to do with video assists, cranes, lenses and eye-pieces that have revolutionised the industry, and for this reason, he was given his Widescreen Academy Award just after the screening. In my next update, I’m going to move on from discussions of widescreen to multi-screen, and the innovations of another living legend of British cinema, Stanley Long.

I was never one to rave about my home theatre set-up, in fact, never had a set-up worth raving about, but all of this has changed since I upgraded my TV to facilitate my studies of various widescreen formats then more recently decided I might as well go the whole hog and get a decent sound system to complement it. Hence my love of Blu-Ray, a format I simply couldn’t see the point of up until little over a year ago.

Battle Royale, the type of film Blu-Rays we made for!

Blu-Ray’s merits over DVD became immediately apparent as soon as I stuck in the new Arrow Video 3-disc release of Battle Royale, which is officially out on Monday (a Limited Edition Blu-Ray came out on 13 December last year). Jesus, forget about the vast improvement in image clarity, that’s a given, but wow, the sound on this disk! I’m generally not a fan of the type of films that feature a lot of machine guns, helicopters and explosions, but as my subwoofer kicked in, I knew I was in for a good time with one. Earlier this year I posted about some titles I thought looked great on Blu-Ray. Now perhaps its time I started considering how films sound, because it is too rarely mentioned that another area where Blu-Ray is streets ahead of DVD is in the audio department. For example, Kathryn Bigelow’s The Hurt Locker is a great example of a movie that uses surround sound expressively, and the Blu-Ray is currently going cheap on Amazon. Sound is also the reason why both Black Swan and Enter the Void are going to be must-haves when (or in the case of Noé’s film, perhaps if…) they come out on this superior format.

The battle about to commence in Kinji Fukasaku's swansong

It therefore goes without saying that the new Arrow Blu-Ray presents the film in the best light I’ve seen it in since first encountering it at Rotterdam Film Festival way back in 2001 – there again, while I caught it a couple of times in the cinema, I never got round to upgrading from my miserably-subtitled, grainy Hong Kong VCD I picked up prior to the UK theatrical run. In fact, I can’t even remember when was the last time I’ve actually watched the film – possibly around the time I was just writing my entry on it for The Midnight Eye Guide to New Japanese Film way back in 2003.

For all that, the film does occupy a very special place in my heart, because it was one of the key titles that put Midnight Eye on the map all those years ago. I still remember vividly Tom Mes and I reverently seated in front of a cigar-puffing Kinji Fukasaku at Rotterdam, and while I only managed to get in one question before our allotted time was up, the resulting interview was used heavily in the marketing of the film when it came out here in Britain. I think it might even be included in the 36-page booklet of last December’s Limited Edition release, alongside Tom’s essay “A Battle Without End.”

Chiaki Kuriyama in the iconic role that led to her appearance as the character Gogo Yubari in Tarantino's Kill Bill (2003)

I’m not going to review the film again here, as enough has been written about it elsewhere over the years (you can check out Tom’s original Midnight Eye review, for example, and my take on the disappointing sequel Battle Royale II). What I will say is that it hit at just the right time to cause maximum impact, and perhaps even more so than Hideo Nakata’s Ringu and Takashi Miike’s Audition, was  responsible for the huge boom in Western interest in Japanese film. If, rather than repeatedly plough the same furrow, companies such as Tartan with their Asian Extreme label had been a little more attuned to what people found interesting about Japanese cinema (it wasn’t just the violence, as Third Window Films are plainly proving), this wave of interest might have been sustained.

Still, watching Battle Royale again really brought back memories of how utterly different the film was from anything I’d ever seen before, and just how electrifying those early encounters with the works of Fukasaku, Miike and Sogo Ishii at Rotterdam Film Festival all those years back really were. It is for this reason, however, that at the time I was relatively blind to the film’s faults. Rather like Suspiria, I love Battle Royale unconditionally, but I’m not entirely sure if the film is actually any good.

Masanobu Ando playing the psychopathic Kiriyama

The most palpable problem is the various loopholes in the script, which during the process of squashing Koushun Takami’s monumental novel of the same name down to size (you can get the English translation here) seems to have overlooked several fundamental rules of basic narrative logic. I still have no idea what actually happens at the end. Of course, you can savour the film’s gung-ho bloodletting action, histrionic performances and pantomime theatrics and ruminate over the allegory without worrying about the finer plot-points that seemingly got lost in translation from page to screen, but at the same time, I think it is interesting that while Western audience were first going ga-ga over this early piece of Asia Extreme, a number of Japanese people I spoke to when I lived in Tokyo about 7 years ago said that the film version was a bitter disappointment compared with the cult hit of the novel. The other problem I now have is Takeshi Kitano and his constant mugging to the camera. When I first saw Battle Royale, I saw Kitano as the genius who’d made A Scene at the Sea, Sonatine and Hana-Bi, not the tragic buffoon with auteurist pretensions who made such lamentable titles as Brother, Dolls and Achilles and the Tortoise. For me, I have to say it, Battle Royale works best for me in the moments when Kitano is offscreen.

Before the fall, Takashi Kitano

But enough negativity. Battle Royale is a huge amount of fun, and certain scenes still send little frissons of pleasure down my spine, particularly those involving the sickle-wielding siren played by Ko Shibasaki. This 3-disc release features both the original theatrical version of the film and the director’s cut that came out in Japan not long after, with added flashback scenes that flesh out several of the main characters. There’s also a plethora of making-of documentaries and other extras, leaving no aspect of the film unturned. It’s basically a must-have for all fans of Japanese cinema, that leaves you wanting for nothing, except…

I could never tire of watching Ko Shibasaki

On 20 Nov 2010, to mark the 10th anniversary of its release, Toei released Battle Royale 3D, the original film converted to 3D by Kinji Fukasaku’s son Kenta (whose previously dabblings in 3D I detailed in this post from exactly a year ago). I’ve no idea if this is getting a proper UK theatrical release, but it did just play at Glasgow Film Festival but a few weeks ago, so we can but pray. Even the most fervent detractors of 3D can’t deny that this sounds a blast!