Avenue Kurtodrome

The movie The Descent has already been reviewed here, so there’s no need to bring all that up again. Anyway, a couple of days ago I saw a poster for the film I hadn’t seen before. It’s good enough to share it with you here, so have a look…

And so we’ll have to wait for the Hari Puttar movie to be released in theatres. Warner Bros has fired a lawsuit against “all parties involved in the production and distribution of the Hari Puttar film” (I wonder if that includes the catering service). You see, Warner Bros claim Hari Puttar is too similar to some wizard boy franchise they have the rights of. The name’s Harry Potter, you may have heard of them.

Here’s why Warner Bros are wrong:

1) “Mirchi Movies, the makers of the Bollywood children’s film, have denied the accusations. [...] Mirchi says that Hari is a popular Indian name, and Puttar means ’son’ in Hindi and Punjabi.”
This makes one wonder: can people file lawsuits against using a popular name in a movie’s title? And if so, there must be one John Tucker out there who can go to the courts and file a lawsuit against a movie containing his name as well as containing a death threat. Also, “son”. It’ll be hard to be against the use of a word. What are Warner Bros trying to achieve? That from now on Punjabi parents will have to adress their sons as follows: “Come here, Hari, my not-daughter.”

2) Let’s never forget that Warner Bros should consider themselves quite lucky. After all, claiming it was Rowling who came up with the idea for her books is a bit of an overstatement. Discerning readers might want to discover the works of Anthony Horowitz.

So to sum up, Warner and co will protect their unoriginal ideas from being copied and people who speak Hindi or Pakistani are no longer allowed to call their sons “son” or give them a popular name.

Link to BBC article

Chainsaw Maid is a claymation short by Takena. An ode to the zombie movies by George A. Romero, enough gore to please Lucio Fulci and a hint of David Lynch (the Twin Peaks score by Badalamenti).

Don LaFontaine, the man who provided the sonorous voice for more than 5,000 movie trailers, died Monday at age 68.

LaFontaine died at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles of complications from a collapsed lung. He had been taken to the hospital Aug. 22 with a blood clot in the lung.

LaFontaine was known as the “king of the movie trailers,” having done the trailer voiceovers for films such as Terminator, Fatal Attraction, Cheaper by the Dozen, Batman Returns and his personal favourite, The Elephant Man.

His baritone voice and melodramatic delivery are famously associated with the oft-repeated movie trailer phrase, “In a world…”

More from that CBC article here.

And then there’s this short documentary on YouTube:

Captain Swing is the latest offering from Onar Films. The movie is a Turkish adaptation of an Italian comic based on the adventures of an American rebel. Well, I say American, I mean “French-American” living with Indian tribes. Did I just manage to include every country in the world in two sentences? Anyway, are you prepared for 90 minutes of Turkish actors pretending to be French, American, British and (heaven forbid) Indian? Let’s review Kaptan Swing (or Captain Swing)…

In case you hadn’t figured it out by now, Kaptan Swing is daft. Well, there’s a Turkish fellow trying to pass as an Indian (which basically means he walks around semi-clothed, has a couple of lines on his face and mentions the great gods in the sky in nearly every sentence)… of course it’s daft. Then again, American movies made in the fifties with similar themes are no less silly (even if directed by heavyweights like Jacques Tourneur). One has to assume it comes with the theme.

Anyway, Kaptan Swing is a rebel sought after by the English (read: Turkish actors in silly red outfits). His love is the ample bosomed Betty, his friends are the slightly overweight Mister Bluff and Sad Owl, the Indian who’s always hungry (and who’s in charge of the film’s comedy elements - which are quite annoying).
The thing is: Sad Owl’s comedy may be a bit annoying, but bear in mind this film doesn’t take itself serious. The addition of comedy characters in Turkish thrillers and horror movies is disturbing, but here you allow yourself to let it pass. Because the film is silly. Let’s face it, the genre is silly: comparable American movies from the 50s were no less cardboard than this feature.

After watching the trailer for this movie, I had a lot of reservations for this film, but to be honest, Kaptan Swing isn’t all that bad. You won’t believe for one second the film is set in North America, but if you look at it as a rogue movie, it’s okay. The film is quite faithful to the Italian comic it was based on, Il Comandante Mark.

As for the picture quality, it must definitely be mentioned this movie looks incredibly good. Often these Turkish movies look in such a bad shape the word “abysmal” would be considered as a compliment, but Captain Swing is one of Onar’s best looking movies so far. Apparently not all was lost.

Onar Films included the second part of its history of Turkish fantastic cinema (focusing on adventure movies) on this DVD, so on top of Kaptan Swing you’ll learn more about this movie and its likes. And what a shame that documentary isn’t longer.

Other extras include a poster insert, a couple of filmographies and biographies, a photogallery and a reel of upcoming trailers. Make sure you watch those trailers, there’s one of a Turkish Bond adaptation, the Turkish version of Death Wish (which will be released later this year) and a couple of other mouth-watering sleaze goodies. Treats ahead, ladies and gentlemen, treats ahead.

P.S. Do you know your one Captain Swing from another? Read the Wikipedia entry for more info, but bear in mind the Turkish movie isn’t included there.

The first movie that springs to mind is Girlfight.
But this is not Girlfight. Yes, this is a movie about a girl who wants to make it in the world of female boxing. But that’s where the parallels end.
This is Dans Les Cordes.

This is the movie debut of director Magaly Richard-Serrano. If her name is familiar, you’re probably interested in boxing. Magaly Richard-Serrano is a former junior boxing champion of France and the niece of a former world champion. Boxing isn’t just a part of the family tradition, the boxing blood is running through Magaly’s veins.
And Richard-Serrano was able to translate this love onto the screen, so that we, non-boxing moviegoers, could also understand what it feels like to be a boxer.

Richard Anconina (Joseph) is a former boxer. He has a daughter (Angie), who wants to claim the junior title one day, and a niece (Sandra), who’s also into boxing. Sandra has been raised as a daughter ever since her mother died. Sandra looks up to Angie, but when Angie is severely wounded during a fight and has to skip the next match, Sandra seizes the opportunity to claim her share of the limelight, wins the match and becomes the champion in her category.
Which is when things get worse… Sandra suddenly starts to lose weight, so she could end up in Angie’s weight category and claim the title Angie hadn’t been able to win. Angie is furious. With her cousin, who even tries to fit Angie’s clothes so she can see how much weight she’s already lost. With her dad, for abandoning all hope in her. And with her mother, who starts blaming Sandra for everything, claiming she is as much of a rotten apple as her late sister (Sandra’s mother). One big happy family!
Angie and Sandra fall out, one training becomes extremely vicious (ever wanted to see two girls beat each other to pulp?) and the family ends up completely shattered. And this with the ultimate fight only days away…

More than Girlfight, Dans Les Cordes manages to capture the feeling of what it’s like to be a boxing girl. On the other hand, if you compare Girlfight and Dans Les Cordes, you’ll have to confess that in the end Girlfight is the better of the two movies.
Ultimately, the tragical history of Angie’s family lacks the intrigue to keep you interested for the full 90 minutes. To overcome that, the film should’ve focused more on the boxing itself or have focused more the characters (as it is, the characters are 2.5 dimensional rather than 3D).

Which doesn’t mean that Dans Les Cordes is not a good movie: my ultimate verdict for this movie will be 6.5 out of 10. But this 6.5 movie shows so much passion (for both boxing and cinema) that you’re willing to overlook the unfinished bits.

Louise Szpindel is very good as Angie. You sometimes wonder if boxing isn’t one of her hobbies. (I hadn’t seen her before, but this was already her tenth role.) Richard Anconina is very famous in France (though not a lot of his movies have made it across the border), but probably the most famous person (globally) in this movie is Maria de Medeiros, who gets to play the labile mother.

I read somewhere that the director worked six years on this film before it was finally finished. As is often the case with projects that take up such a long time, the result is not a complete success. I don’t know why: maybe because the people involved get so familiar with their work they lack the ability to cut into their beloved work with a severe critic’s mind. As is often the case with such projects, the viewer feels the love for the project so much (s)he doesn’t have the heart to be very critical about it.

Dans Les Cordes is far from the best movie you’ll see this year, but there’s enough love put into this picture you’ll be able to enjoy it, even if you won’t remember it for the rest of your life.

6.5/10

Day three and the uncontrolable urge to look across the border and see how the Dutch festival Lowlands is coping. We noticed bad reviews for Santogold’s concert and found Amy McDonald’s line-up eerily similar to what we’d seen at Pukkelpop the day before (now that’s disappointing). Never mind, it’s Pukkelpop we should review, so here we go for the third and final day of the festival.

Samim & Miguel Toro (Percussions) was what it said on the tin: those two guys on percussions. Ideal for those who wanted to dance but not too much early in the morning (dance hall, 11.20), ideal for intermission music, but how the hell do you review half an hour of percussions? So early in the morning the audience decided to soak it up rather than dance it off. Not much movement in the front rows. And no, we didn’t dance either: we hurried off to the Marquee…

But first an important question: can we ceremonially sacrifice the person responsible for scheduling Lykke Li at 11.20am? Lykke Li sounded and looked even more asleep than the audience and “Dance Dance Dance” sounded nowhere near the record version we so love. Nevertheless, the crowd applauded, a sound that seemed to awake Lykke Li and her band. Vocally she wasn’t in optima forma, but she was clever enough not to demand too much of her voice. As this was one of my most anticipated concerts I did feel a bit disappointed afterwards, but to be honest, so early on a festival morning I wasn’t even awake myself. The jury gave 5.5/10 as a verdict (though the execution could’ve been a lot better, we still like the songs) and commented: “Lykke Li’s next concert in Belgium will be at 9pm. We’ll be more awake. We expect the same of her.”

VISUAL PROOF:
Lykke Li - Dance Dance Dance
Lykke Li - I’m Good I’m Gone (special version)

The Black Box Revelation followed in Lykke Li’s footsteps and awoke everyone present with a noon portion of rock. If sports and music are indications, the brand new Belgian generation is doing more than okay. The BBR recently played a couple of concerts in America and mentioned to get noticed there. Home again, the duo were keen to show this had nothing to do with promo talk and all with talent. A tight set and if you closed your eyes, you could’ve been fooled into thinking there were more than two people on stage. Yeah, they’re young and they still need to mature, but the room for improvement we’d like to see is potentially there. Best of luck and do us proud!

VISUAL PROOF:
The Black Box Revelation - Set Your Head on Fire

The cancellation of the 5pm act was the reason all the artists could stay in bed another extra 80 minutes. Lucky bastards. Anyway, it was half past one when the main stage finally awoke. The bad on stage were Senor Eht, which is The Rones written backwards in an attempt to be funny. Sorry, ynnuf. The Belgian boys came to the festival to promote their new album, Sinner Songs. Listening to their album preview (which you can do here), I had to think of QotSA a bit too much and the same could be said about the concert (notice a vague similarity between Josh Homme and Rones frontman Lenn Van Meeuwen). Standing in the shadows of QotSA and Nine Inch Nails (”The Bitter Taste”), The Rones are good as a pleasant ersatz for when QotSA or NIN can’t make it to the Lowlands or if you want to listen to - as Last.fm would put it - “similar artists”. Not bad, not bad.

VISUAL PROOF:
THE RONES - Nonsense & Crackwhores

Over to the Marquee… where Black Kids (13.40) were announced as “funny fun from America”. The first song sounded like they’d forgotten the soundcheck and wanted to test their equipment live on stage. Some of their songs may have brilliant names (e.g. I’m not gonna teach your boyfriend how to dance with you), but what I saw on stage wasn’t that brilliant. It’s rock with dance, but not enough dance. Or rock. It’s pop with experiment, but nearly not enough experiment. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to a Fiery Furnaces album.

The Wombats (main, 14.50) asked if the audience was ready for some serious music. Yes, and we also want to know where you hid it? The first fifteen minutes are best described as “an abomination”, later came a few improvements (i.e. “Christmas comes early”), but the concert hobbled up and down. Right now, The Wombats sound like the flavour of the month and an expiry date nearing them at a fast pace. 4/10

Five o’clock and a raised middlefinger to yesterday’s line-up as all three stages allowed the cameras to have a look at their set: the hippies went to Plain White T’s at the main stage (16.30-17.15), the rockers and punks went to see Anti-Flag at the Marquee (16.25-17.15) while Girl Talk (17.00-17.50) in the Dance Hall catered to the beautiful people. Apologies to the insulted, beginning with the hippies. As you know sound is quicker than image and so I heard of Plain White T’s before I saw them. My initial thought: oh, have the children of Creedence Clearwater Revival formed a band of their own? A thought that never went away…
Before we head over to the Marquee, let’s open a brand new can of expletives. Yes, Anti-Flag is to punk what Plain White T’s is to the flower power: a cloned band that comes at least a generation later than planned. The tattoos, hair standing up with gel, a drummer with earrings rolling with his tongue and, above all, expletives. I counted five fucks and three motherfuckers in five minutes. Hey, at least they’re still relatively young and their anger sounds a lot more sincere than The Sex Pistols (currently playing at Lowlands). No complaints here, except I’m someone who is exposed to archive footage and has seen a lot of similar acts. But for now, it’ll do.

VISUAL PROOF:
THE PLAIN WHITE T’S - Hey There Delilah
ANTI-FLAG - Turncoat

Also on stage: the “Anti-Flag Army”. Read: five girls with black dresses who looked freshly plucked from the audience. So not unlike Girl Talk then, where Gregg Gillis had himself backed up by a dozen people he’d picked from the crowd, dancing to the beats. Girl Talk wasn’t scheduled for this stage: he should’ve appeared at the Chateau (my beloved stage) a couple of hours earlier, but since he couldn’t make his 2pm appointment he found himself rescheduled to this bigger stage. Well, it looked as if he had no trouble filling the Dance Hall. (By the way, there are a lot of people who walk straight on past the entrance gates and never look back for three days. The Dance Hall and the Boiler Room have the most persistent audience, which is a bit of a shame if you’re in one of the other tents with dance-based music… they won’t budge.) Girl Talk was there to have fun: early in his set he loop voice and beats in his computer and dived into the crowd, to dance with his audience. Girl Talk is 50 minutes of samples, some of them slower or faster, but all of it organic. With occasional moments where Gillis programmed his computer, grabbed his microphone and boosted up the crowd. A welcome change, we must say.

VISUAL PROOF:
Girl Talk - Bounce That

It’s 7.30pm and the Marquee invites another power duo, albeit a rather different one. And, speaking of differences, Dresden Dolls didn’t even look like their usual selves: gone is the make-up, now it’s just Brian on drums and Amanda on piano. (Well, there’s still some stuff underneath Amanda’s right eye.) Formerly described by themselves as “Brechtian punk cabaret”, the duo may be less cabaret but is still every inch as much Brechtian punk as they used to be. The absolute highlight was penultimate song “Girl Anachronism” played with so much power and at such a high speed you’d think Brian and Amanda had to catch a train. With Brian signalling he was out of breath afterwards, Amanda gave him a minute to recover by addressing the crowd and informing them of the upcoming tours of Brian (as part of The World/Inferno Friendship Society) and Amanda (solo album, Who killed Amanda Palmer?, coming out soon), but then it was back to business with an adrenalin-boosted finale. Almost the best concert of the festival.

VISUAL PROOF:
THE DRESDEN DOLLS - Night Reconnaissance

Kele Okereke only has to raise his hands in the air to get thousands of people clapping, even if it is to one of Bloc Party’s weaker songs (the one where Kele advises his audience to cut an arm off when it annoys you). The massive applauses (which sometimes sounded like a collective orgasm) may give the band a bit too much credit for their value, but Bloc Party are good and popular.

Headlining tonight: Sigur Ros on the main stage (with an afterparty by Soulwax), Elbow in the Marquee (we didn’t see their concert, but the next day in Holland they were apparently superb) and Étienne de Crécy in the dance hall. The light effects were minimal (image 3×3 cubes lighting up in variations, with de Crécy in the middle one), but played out with maximal effect (and in alignment with the beats). Did Kraftwerk perhaps design his set? If you’re the sort of person who rates a concert based on the visual effects, this was a triumph. If not, it was still a treat. And if you like to watch cubes with light effects, it was orgasmic.

VISUAL PROOF:
ETIENNE DE CRECY - Live performance (excerpt)

And now for the jury’s verdict… The jury decided not to end this Pukkelpop with a top ten, but with a couple of prizes:
* Best concert we watched: Mercury Rev
* Best runner-up: Dresden Dolls
* Twat of the year: the idiot with the Flaming Lips balloon at the Ting Tings concert, with the message “The Ting Tings suck” on his balloon
* Least deserved headliner: The Killers on Thursday (this, by the way, seems to be a general conclusion by reviewers and audience)
* Most out-of-place headliner: Metallica
* Worst line-up in several years: Pukkelpop 2008

(More at engrish.com)

If you’re waiting for part three of our Pukkelpop review, you’ll need to have a bit more patience. It’s time for an interlude: two reviews of movies with a connection to the festival. Coming up in part two: the movie that inspired a band looking for a good name, it’s Creature With The Atom Brain. First though, we return to Thursday night in the Marquee: Mercury Rev were prepping the audience with a visual treat. A two-minute long scene from the cult classic Daisies. Which reminded us: high time for a review.

Daisies is called Sedmikrasky in its original Czech language. The movie was directed by Vera Chytilová in 1966 and was part of the Czech New Wave. The movie features two young girls, Marie I and Marie II (though you could do without their names), sitting in their bikinis soaking up some sun, but doing nothing. Not only are they bored, they have no plans and come to a shattering conclusion: “Everything’s going bad in this world. You know what? If everything’s going bad… we’re going bad as well.”

And so it begins… two young girls roaming through the city, being mischevous where and when they can. Don’t expect them to be sensitive. From time to time one Marie will ask the other if she minds. The answer is no. It should be no. Yes would show goodness and weren’t they supposed to be bad girls?

Some are questioning now how come this movie was called a feministic film. Surely, the depiction of these morally depraved girls (and, judging by the incredible amount of phonenumbers on their wall, I’m sure a lot of people wouldn’t hesitate to label them sluts) is the complete opposite of what a feminist should be. Well, don’t forget the film was made in 1966, at a time when it was even difficult for the actresses in television shows to be independent. Surely, we know how independent Catherine Gale and Emma Peel were in The Avengers, but BBC’s concurrent Adam Adamant (and his servant) told their female ally Georgina Jones on a weekly basis crime should be solved by men. Yes, Miss Jones was a highly fashionable Carnaby Street chick, but she often had to go home because “this is no place for female eyes”. Not that she ever listened, but it often led to her ending up in the hands of the enemy. Meanwhile, over on the other channel, Mrs Peel was kicking ass. Whereas most female characters in movies had to be content with looking admiringly at the male hero, the two young Maries dared to take their lives in their own hands and be bad, quite bad. The way girls shouldn’t behave.

So the girls take up the habit of dining with old men, having the men pay for their food, accompanying them to the station, but jumping off the train when it departs. Do they mind? Of course not. Nor do they mind breaking into a room ready for a banquet. So much food and noone to watch them… ooh, I wonder how that’ll end… (watch clip)

And if you don’t want to believe the movie has feminist undertones, watch how the road to ruin leads the girls to the final scene. What future do the girls have? We’re given two versions, both not exactly too great for the girls.

The movie is as whimsical as the two girls. Sometimes the colours change rapidly throughout a scene, sometimes the girls’ movements (as in the first clip) are accompanied by odd sounds. Sedmikrasky is an odd little film. You’ll like the film as much as you’ll like the Maries: sometimes you’ll adore them (and the film), sometimes you want to strangle the girls (and kill the film). By all means an achievement and something everyone who calls himself/herself a film enthusiast should’ve watched at least once. If not, I’ll send Marie and Marie after you.

Film: 9/10

Welcome back for part two of our Kurtodrome Vault double bill of men being madly in love with women (oh, and not for the good of mankind). This time we move to Japan for a movie called:

PART 2. THE HUMAN VAPOR (Gasu Ningen Daiichigo)

“At first I could not understand the terror in Dr Sano’s eyes. Then I knew: I had been transformed into something terrifying. Something repellant….”
Maybe not necessarily repellant, but the sight of someone’s body vaporizing till he becomes invisible… well, I’ve seen prettier things.

First the good news
The second feature of this double bill isThe Human Vapor and was directed by Ishirô Honda, the man who also gave you Gojira (a.k.a. Godzilla) and countless sequels with the rubber-suited monster.
Honda worked for Toho Studios who, apart from Godzilla and Samurai films, made four movies about humans who could change the state of their bodies. The Human Vapor, released in 1960, was the last of these four films.
So no monster in Gasu Ningen Daiichigo (to call The Human Vapor by its original title) but a librarian who agrees to be a test subject for a scientific study. Little did librarian Mizuno know the other test subjects had died during the test. He discovers he can vaporize his body and kills the professor (by asphyxiation).
Mizuno might want to turn his back to humanity, but he’s also madly in love with a beautiful dancer who’s been saving for her comeback performance. He decides to help her by robbing the bank. Maybe not such a bad idea, but it’s a crime my friendly neighbourhood officer tells me.
The police pursue his trail (he might be invisible, but his car isn’t) to the place where Vapor-Man abandons his car. Smart move, if it weren’t for the fact that there’s only one house nearby. That’s where She lives and when She suddenly appears to have enough money for her comeback and can’t/won’t reveal any information on her maecenas, she’s arrested.
This makes Mizuno so angry he becomes even madder than he was before (it seems like the test affected both his visibility and his sanity) and he wants revenge for the imprisonment of his beloved dancer. More banks are robbed and more people get killed.
That’s as far as I’ll go because, who knows, you might want to check this movie out and as the saying goes, there’s no crying over spilt spoilers. The movie is very decent and a remarkable ending.

Okay, and now the bad news.
The bad news is The Human Vapor isn’t just the American title of the film, it’s also the American version and sadly a lot went lost in translation.
First and foremost, Gasu Ningen Daiichigo was a mystery wheras in The Human Vapor the anti-hero tells his story in a long flashback. This would’ve been only half so horrible if the narration had been more interesting and if it hadn’t replaced the dialogue in quite a lot of scenes (which leaves us with the “I told him and then he said” effect). The jerking effect of the re-edited version is also not really a plus side. Even the soundtrack was changed. And if you can’t remember why the soundtrack seems so familiar: you must have seen The Fly (1958).

Crappy editing, dialogue and Americanised dubbing (Japanese characters are less credible with sentences like “Ah, go peddle your papers!”) aside, nothing can keep us from knowing this is a terrific movie. Even if it falls from 10/10 to 8/10, an eight is still better than most things you’re subjected to. The Human Vapor still has enormous amounts of tragedy and pathos, an anti-hero who can’t control his limitless powers and an enchanting but painful love story. What it lacks as a crime story, it wins as a character study. It’s fascinating to see how Mizuno evolves from a friendly lab rat into a psychotic megalomaniac.

Mizuno and Fujichiyo
We also wonder about the role of the dancer Fujichiyo.
Does she know where the money came from? Does she also love Mizuno? Her personality is quite different from the other female character in the film, the reporter Kyoko. Traditional versus modern.
Mizuno’s acts are beyond redemption, but still you feel some sort of sympathy for the Human Vapor and most of that comes from his unconditional love for Fujichiyo.
True, the special effects are minimal, but who needs special effects in a sci-fi movie when you’ve got a story?

I leave you with the trailer for the film. And the good news: it’s the Japanese trailer.