Udine Dispatch. 5 + 6.

Wednesday was a day devoted to interviews, so I was only able to catch one film, Gu Changwei's Peacock (2005). So I've combined the next two days' films into one Dispatch since I only caught two films on Thursday due to a meeting and, come on, I need to spend some time wandering around this lovely town, too. I was able to catch half of the talk with three leading cinematographers in East Asia, which included Gu Changwei of China (Farewell My Concubine, Red Sorghum), Tamra Mazaki (Lady Snowblood, Eureka) and Kim Hyung-koo (Beat, Woman Is the Future of Man).

Hanna Lee, producer of two Hong Sang-soo films (Turning Gate and Woman Is the Future of Man), coordinated this focus series at the festival entitled "Eye of the Beholder." (In addition, the lobby of the theater is collaged with film stills and on-set images photographed by Hong Kong photographer Jupiter Wong.) She's doing this in part because cinematographers - who are also sometimes Directors of Photography, or DPs, when they oversee both the camerawork and the lighting - are often get overshadowed by directors and actors. Also, as Stephen Cremin noted in the program, one hopeful way of addressing film piracy on DVD is to emphasize what is unique to cinema-going.

What was interesting about the first set of questions Hanna Lee asked is they each brought out a common response of "there is no difference" from each of the participants. Gu answered Lee's question about the difference between Chinese Fourth Generation and Fifth Generation filming by responding that there wasn't one. Tamra answered Lee's question about Tamra's wide experience in lensing puppet animation, documentary and narrative by saying that he doesn't see them any differently, that his job is simply to convey the director's vision. And Kim began not by answering Lee's question, but by stating his appreciation for being invited since people often don't think cinematographers are that interesting when indeed they are. That is, there is "no difference" between them and the directors and actors.

Still, pushed again to compare Fourth and Fifth Generation film in China, Gu did admit that up through the socialist 80s it was a lot easier because the funding was widely available and one was practically guaranteed to earn their budget back. With the gradual opening up of China's market, films are made more cheaply now and there is greater competition.

Lee asked Tamra how he came to limit his recent work to independent filmmakers and Tamra said that he got to the point where he simply wanted to work with interesting people and topics and the the works independent filmmakers, such as Aoyama Shinji, were where the interesting people congregated. Lee was also curious as to why Tamra has avoided membership in the Japanese Society of Cinematographers (JSC) and if not having membership made finding work difficult at all. Tamra said that he does not have a strong interest in managing the lighting, choosing to specialize in takes, and since the definition of Director of Photography includes managing lighting, by definition he is not a DP nor would he want to be. Tamra added that his not being a member of the JSC has not affected his career.

Kim relayed a story asked of him by Lee regarding his experience working on Kim Sung-soo's Beat (1997). Kim wanted the lighting crew to implement new techniques that he had learned while studying in the USA. The lighting crew was difficult to convince since they had grown quite accustomed to the reliable methods they had been using. However, once they saw the rushes that utilized his suggested techniques, the lighting crew was easily swayed and such new techniques began to be embraced by others working in the South Korean film industry. Considering that every critic will note the high quality production value of South Korean films regardless of the varying opinions they have about the directing, acting and storytelling, Kim's decisions on the set of Beat might be significantly responsible for the success of the industry today.

Like Zhang Yimou before him, Gu has now shifted from cinematography to direction with his debut, Peacock. The film features three narratives of three siblings as they try to negotiate around their limited options as the Cultural Revolution comes to an end. The stories are not necessarily told from each individual's perspective, but there is a primary focus on the daughter in the first story, a square cap on a round bottle; the elder brother in the second, a big mouse amongst men; and the younger brother of the third, a guaranteed disappointment considering the unrealistic expectations. Each sibling is nicely evened out to show their less than respectable side along with their simple humanity. Gu seems to have waited just long enough before taking control of the wider metaphorical lens that is the director's authority when making a film.

While in Udine, my home city of San Francisco is simultaneously having its festival. One series I am disappointed to be missing in San Francisco is the survey on recent Malaysian cinema. At least I was able to catch one Malaysian here at Udine on Horror Day, the vampiress film Pontianak: Descent of the Tuber Rose (Shuhaimi Baba, 2004). Apparently Malaysia's variation on the fairly common vampiress myths worldwide connects the vampiress with death in childbirth. The pontianak has a long history in Malaysian cinema, as far back as the 1950s. Baba's take on the myth here involves Meriam (Maya Karin), a "primadonna" or dancer considered by all a national treasure. She is also the object of one man's affection and another man's lust. She chooses the former over the latter. But when her husband leaves for a trip to Indonesia, tragedy strikes the pregnant Meriam that will result in the return of the pontianak a few decades later to seek revenge on the family of the man responsible. Don't worry, the film isn't that scary, relying on loud sounds, ghoulish faces, blood-red eyes, slicing long finger-nails and other faulty frights placed intermittently throughout the disjointed narrative, leaving you more bewildered than jolted. However, the indigenous songs that accompany the dances made the film worth it all for me.

Here's a little factoid I learned while here: It is illegal for a film in China to make a film about the supernatural. To work around this, a film would need to be completely financed in Hong Kong, but that would then limit its market since it still wouldn't be allowed to screen in China. So the film Suffocation (Zhang Bingjian, 2004), a film I didn't see, has to work off the horror possibilities of the subconscious to frighten Chinese viewers while appeasing Chinese censors. I was thinking of this as I was watching R-Point (Kang Soo-chang, 2004) and perhaps this unique aspect of China helped seed a realization I had about South Korean cinema. It wouldn't be unique to South Korea, since it would be applicable to any country that has mandatory military service, but I realized that we can pretty much assume when watching a Korean war genre film such as R-Point that the actors know what it is like to be in the military. They may not have experienced combat, but they have real-life experience to work with. It is as if the government has indirectly subsidized these films since the production company need not involve simulated military training for their actors.

Of course, R-Point is not just a war film, but also a horror film, à la Jacob's Ladder (Adrian Lyne, 1990). Director Kang has dealt with Koreans in the Vietnam War before, having adapted the script for White Badge (Jeong Ji-yeong, 1992) from the novel by Ahn Jung-hyo. Here, nine men, (count them, nine, it's important later), are asked to find evidence of a lost company somewhere in Vietnam. They find nothing but ghosts of wars present and past and their own unit begins to crumble in this situation for which their boot camps understandably never thought to train them. The film does develop the necessary suspense at points, especially a nicely played scene when the first death occurs, but the speed of much of the film is its biggest flaw, not allowing the fear to seep in as all good horror films do. Good for me, though, since the walk home in the dark wasn't so scary.

Posted by cphillips at April 29, 2005 3:41 PM