Book review: 'Mushroom Clouds and Mushroom Men' by Peter H. Brothers

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am a fan of Japanese cinema. Whether I'm banging on about the work of Kurosawa, looking forward to the next Kitano film or getting evangelical over the latest Miyazaki animation, I have written a fair bit about film-makers from that part of East Asia. So when I heard that there was an English language book on one of the most popular and influential - yet curiously most overlooked - Japanese directors, I was genuinely excited to read it.

That director is Ishirō Honda (1911-1993), the man most closely associated with the monster movies of the 50s and 60s: most notably 'Mothra' (1961) and the original 'Godzilla' (1954). Despite being one of the most commercially viable Japanese directors of his day (most of his monster movies made it into American theatres - albeit with changes) serious analysis of his work is hard to come by in the West. Stepping bravely into that void is Peter H. Brothers, with his comprehensive, film-by-film volume Mushroom Clouds and Mushroom Men: The Fantastic Cinema of Ishiro Honda.



Although, as Brothers himself points out, Honda was not exclusively a maker of fantasy movies (at least not early in his career) this book focuses on those films for which he was best known. Mushroom Clouds covers no less than 25 of his films in detail, looking at their production as well as providing decent analysis of their content and often their political context. These passages are, happily, bookended by chapters on his life before, during and after the monster movies. These chapters are written in the form of a narrative in chronological order and help to provide a decent context in which to put the films, as well as proving perhaps the most compelling read as they look at Honda the man.

Almost equal attention is paid to several of Honda's most frequent collaborators: his producer at Toho, Tomoyuki Tanaka (1910-1997), his longstanding composer, Akira Ifukube (1914-2006) and, most significantly, the man behind the visual effects, Eiji Tsuburaya (1901-1970). Ifukube's scores are deconstructed in some detail by Brothers, whilst Tsuburaya is afforded a lot of praise for his work and influence - heralded as the Japanese equivalent of Ray Harryhausen and Honda's "true mentor". As a result, the book is just as informative about Japanese cinema of the period and the studio system as it is about Honda himself.



Brothers clearly has a great knowledge of these movies and seems to know the supporting actors and crew members from this era of Japanese film as well as anybody. However, his appreciation of Honda's movies can at times make the book seem fannish, rather than academic. This is not necessarily a criticism, as sometimes it is nice to read something so celebratory, but the level of enthusiastic praise reserved for even the campiest of these films at times left me incredulous. Instead I rather enjoyed the book as a narrative history told by an enthusiastic guide. There is certainly an element of melancholy in the story of Honda's life as a director which is never really addressed by the author.

Honda was, like many Japanese people of his generation, a very loyal company man. He never worked for anyone but Toho all his life and seemed to feel very restricted by the monster movies he was contracted to make - ironically the very films Brothers book celebrates as it is equally guilty of marginalising his other work. He also found his career interrupted by military service and when he returned found that many of his subordinates had been promoted above him. As a result it took him far longer to become a director than some of his contemporaries, including his friend Kurosawa, for whom he worked as an assistant (at both ends of his directorial career). There is an unspoken feeling, reading between the lines, that Honda was never allowed to become the film-maker he could have been. Although Brothers chooses to celebrate the care he put into his fantasy work and finds lot of examples of how his monster movies are far more humanistic and character driven than they were really required to be.



Some interesting themes are left unexplored, such as the sexpoitation aspect of the 1957 film 'The Defense Force of the Earth', the plot of which involves aliens capturing Earth women for cross-breading, and the significance of the US title change of the 1956 'Radon, the Monster From the Sky' to the less overtly metaphorical 'Rodon! The Flying Monster'. And whilst Tsuburaya's work was evidently amongst the best effects work of the day - and the most influential (prior to Tsuburaya, Japanese studios didn't even have dedicated visual effects departments) - his work has not aged well compared to that of his American contemporary Harryhausen. For instance, comparing the model work from 1953's 'The Beast From 20,000 Fathoms' with the laughable man-in-a-suit work seen in 'Godzilla' a year later does not favour Tsuburaya.

That is not to demean Tsuburaya, but just to say that the level of praise reserved for his work in the book is difficult to take seriously, especially the claims made to its realism, with audience members apparently asking Honda where he got all the military equipment from after one film. As upbeat and sanguine as Honda seems to have been, one can't help but wonder whether he really saw himself as the director of film's like 'MechaGodzilla's Counterattack' (1975) or whether he privately yearned for more.



But then I think that is the point of Brothers' book. Rather than apologise for these campy movies, he has chosen to find the good in them. He has looked at them and is trying to bring to our attention the things of value that Honda was able to bring about within these fantasy pictures. And he does so with palpable love of his subject and real verve, which as a result prevents the book from ever being dull or too dry (at least for anyone pre-disposed to read about Japanese movies). Brothers manages to locate some genuine humanity and even some poignant moments in all of these increasingly absurd films, which is laudable in itself. Perhaps in doing so he is a brave defender of all the easily dismissed fantasy films of the 50s and 60s.



Perhaps a definitive, more sober look at the cinema of Ishirō Honda is still yet to be written. However, Mushroom Clouds and Mushroom Men is a long overdue celebration of a much-maligned film-maker with an equal claim to fame and influence as his better known contemporaries. Perhaps, given more opportunities and with more good fortune, Honda would have emulated Kurosawa and made more than one great film ('Godzilla'). After all, he directed entire segments of some of Kurosawa's later films, most notably two whole segments of 'Dreams' in 1990. The director once told a colleague: "Unless your film is caught in the critic's net, it will be washed away into history." If nothing else, Brothers' book is the first necessary step in ensuring that does not happen to the films of Ishirō Honda.

Mushroom Clouds and Mushroom Men: The Fantastic Cinema of Ishiro Honda by Peter H. Brothers is available now here.

'Skeletons' review: An amiable and gently amusing British comedy...

Last week I hosted a Q&A with Nick Whitfield, the writer and director of the low budget British black comedy 'Skeletons'. The film won the Michael Powell Award for Best New British Feature Film at this year's Edinburgh International Film Festival and stars two relative unknowns, Andrew Buckley and Ed Gaughan. The duo play a pair of professionals whose job is to investigate the skeletons in their clients (literal) closet. But the pair have their own difficulties with the work, as Buckley's Bennett gets too empathetic towards his clients (whose vices range from secretive Latin dance lessons to use of prostitutes), whilst Gaughan's Davis is "on the glow" (addicted to using the procedure to revisit his own past) - a fact the duo must disguise from their boss, the Colonel, played by Jason Isaacs, in a spirited and memorable turn as a gruff Yorkshireman.

The first feature film from Whitfield, 'Skeletons' is a beneficiary of UK Film Council funding, without which the film would never have been made, according to the director. Shot on location across the Midlands, the film is primarily set in the countryside as the besuited protagonists walk from job to job. The film's best moments occur during this walking, as Davis talks about such topics as the lack of moral ambiguity surrounding Rasputin. The interplay between the two leads is funny and Gaughan in particular is really watchable. Written with the two actors in mind, the dialogue and characters are perfectly suited to these actors. The film feels something like a cross between 'Ghostbusters' and 'Alan Partridge' - mixing the spiritual and paranormal with the mundane and the regional.



There are instances where the comedy misfires slightly, with a tired, sub-Chuckle Brothers exchange of "you're unprofessional", "no you're unprofessional", "no you're being unprofessional" being among the less successful moments. But generally the film is gently amusing throughout, even if never side-splittingly hilarious. That may sound like faint praise for a comedy film, but 'Skeletons' gets along fine with these gentle laughs of approval, with its pleasant and amiable tone. It is also uncommonly ambitious and fantastical for a low budget British feature. There is no gritty, kitchen sink realism here as we plunge into territory not too dissimilar from that recently mined in Christopher Nolan's (much bigger budgeted) 'Inception': not only in its premise, but in its fascination with the nature of reality and with Davis' character mirroring DiCaprio's Dom Cobb as he finds himself haunted by the past.

It is refreshing to encounter a film of this modest means which isn't frightened to tackle the imagination and isn't afraid to get quite abstract and surreal (it is a film where an accident can turn you Bulgarian and a man can live in a rusty old landlocked boat next to a power station). With 'Skeletons' Whitfield also shows that he is not shy about combining this humour and inventiveness with genuine emotion - the film ultimately being about loss and acceptance. 'Skeletons' is not perfect, but it is a pleasing and intriguing debut film from a writer and director with a unique voice in British cinema, and perhaps it forecasts something wonderful for the future. If he can get the funding. Let us hope that the demise of the UK Film Council does not put a premature end to this emerging talent.

'Skeletons' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is still touring the country accompanied by its director, Nick Whitfield, who is doing Q&As at selected Picturehouse cinemas. A full write up on the Q&A will appear on this blog during the week.

'Separado!' review: a cultural oddity in an experimental style...

Gruff Rhys, the man behind the Super Furry Animals, has co-directed, written and starred in a documentary so small that, at the time of writing, it is still "awaiting 5 votes" on the IMDB. That film is 'Separado!', a quirky little movie, less than an hour and a half long, which charts Rhys' journey from Wales to Patagonia (South Argentina) in search of his distant relatives who joined many hundreds of Welsh in emigrating to that part of the world in the late 19th century. On his journey, through Brazil as well as Argentina, Rhys traces the legacy of his Welsh ancestors and looks at the interesting musical hybrid between Latin and traditional Welsh music which can still be heard in parts of South America today.

It all started when Rhys saw an Argentinian gaucho singer named René Griffiths singing in Welsh on BBC Wales as a child. After finding that they were in fact related, the musician became interested in tracking down the man himself. On his journey to find René Griffiths, Rhys meets many other distant relatives and encounters a whole range of other musical performers, including a Brazilian musician who has invented his own instrument - a cross between a guitar and a drum machine. He also puts on several low-key concerts and looks a little bit at the cultural, historical and economic causes and effects of this strange chapter in Welsh history (which apparently played a key role in Argentinian history too - allowing the government to successfully claim the disputed South from neighbouring Chile).



On this trip we see that many Patagonian places have Welsh names and that many still speak the language. Rhys even manages to meet an old man who is closely and directly descended from the original Welsh settlers (who is also proudly in possession of the first organ brought to Argentina by these pioneers). Impressively, he does all of this speaking three languages over the course of the film, speaking Welsh, English and having a decent command of conversational Spanish to boot.

All of this is shown in a really surreal and unconventional way too, with Rhys teleporting himself between locations after donning a huge Power Ranger helmet, and with many bizarre and trippy musical interludes. In fact the film is as much about making music as it is about anything else. There is really nothing to criticise here. The film is barely long enough to get boring. The history is fascinating in itself and seeing the modern Welsh communities of Patagonia (and hearing their music) is an intriguing cultural oddity. Rhys comes across very well too, and spending time in his company is hardly a chore, even for someone who isn't a fan of his music, such as I (not because it's bad, but because I am not familiar with it).

Perhaps the movie could put many off with its unconventional and experimental form, but even then the chance to see this South American road trip is too good to miss. It also has a serious point, underneath all the quirky-ness, about how important it is to hold onto cultural identity - a fact which is perhaps more pressing today for Welsh-speakers than it was in the 1860s. There is also the brutal irony (not lost on the filmmakers), that in escaping persecution from the British, like many other colonials, the Welsh played a part in the persecution of another native people (in this case the Tehuelche, who were removed by the Argentine government now in control of the region). If you can find it playing and have even a minimal interest in any of the above, then there is probably something for you in 'Separado!'.

'Separado!' is so small it hasn't even been rated by the BBFC. But it can be found playing one-off shows at various cinemas, including many Picturehouses.

'Le Concert' review: If Jim Davidson could play violin...

'Le Concert', directed by the Jewish Romanian-born director Radu Mihaileanu, is a big cultural melting pot of a movie. On the surface (and from most posters) a French production boasting 'Inglourious Basterds' star Melanie Laurent, though many of the actors and much of the dialogue is Russian. Fitting then that the story concerns a once-great Orchestra conductor, Andreï Filipov (Aleksei Guskov), thrown out of the Bolshoi for standing up against racial intolerance towards Jews under Brezhnev. But, 30 years after the this injustice, Filipov intercepts an invitation to play in Paris, intended for the Bolshoi and resolves to take a rag-tag group of Russians, from all walks of life (including a wealthy oligarch), to France disguised as the professionals.

Yet, for a film which makes a feature of the fight against racially motivated intolerance, 'Le Concert' is pretty happy to indulge in stereotype. Uncomfortably so: the orthodox Jewish musicians miss practice because they are hawking their wares across Paris from out of a suitcase; the unskilled workers immediately leave the hotel and become illegal immigrants working menial jobs; the gypsies make their living from stealing and forging documents and an Arab restaurateur threatens one patron by saying "they call me Muhammad Al-Qaeda". Some may see this as a good-natured celebration of difference, but I couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably in my chair as racial caricature after racial caricature was exploited for humour in this movie which very quickly descends into farce.



'Le Concert' certainly thinks it is a comedy and it isn't afraid to go pretty broad with it. An oligarch's daughter's wedding is marred by an all-out gangland shootout, for example (which feels as misjudged and out of place as it sounds), whilst the gypsies fake 80-odd passports very publicly at an airport. Maybe this is a very broad cartoonish way of commenting on corruption and criminality in contemporary Russia, but it strains credibility. Especially as the film plays it relatively straight at other points. It is also a film which is terrifically critical of the old Soviet Union and communism, with plenty of jokes about the old regime, so adding that to the cynicism about the modern era, you get a film which is pretty nihilistic.

Melanie Laurent is the film's saving grace, as she has an intensity about her which is always stirring. She is one of those actors who can communicate so much with a subtle change of expression. Aleksei Guskov is also pretty good, always portraying his character with a touching sweetness as well as a dangerous obsession. But mostly everyone in 'Le Concert' shouts their lines at one another in a way which is very unappealing and engaging. It is a film which seems to hate Russian people. For example, when the 80-odd strong Orchestra arrives at their hotel they are all continuously shouting all at once, bursting through the doorway en masse and surrounding the hotelier, waving their arms in the air frantically. These people are idiots, their characters thinly drawn and unsympathetic and, as a result, their plight is uninteresting.



The film scooped several César awards earlier in the year, for Best Sound Design and Best Music, and these were probably deserved. The Tchaikovsky music performed at the titular concert is mesmerising and intense. The fact that the final scene is more or less a long unbroken musical performance is the film's strongest suit - and in that respect it ends of a high note (no pun intended). But for much of the film's running time, it is nothing more than a misfiring comedy of racial difference that feeds off the very intolerance it claims to be in opposition to. A woeful film.

'Le Concert' is rated '15' by the BBFC and is still on a limited release in the UK.

'Skeletons' Screening + Q&A with Director Nick Whitfield

Update: The Q+A went really well and Jon actually recorded the audio for a potential future podcast. I will write something up about the film and the event sometime in the week. My original "that night" time frame was optimistic! Come back later for the full lowdown.

Original post: I am delighted (and a little nervous) to be hosting an on-stage Q&A with writer/director Nick Whitfield after a screening of his film 'Skeletons' at Brighton's Duke of York's Picturehouse this Friday (tomorrow) at 6.30pm. This means I need to spend the rest of today watching the screener DVD very kindly sent to me by Soda Pictures, making notes and forming interesting questions. Please come along and check out the film. You will also have a chance to ask Nick your own questions after the show.

'Skeletons' won the Michael Powell Award for Best New British Feature Film at this year's Edinburgh International Film Festival. Expect a review of the film and a write-up on the whole affair tomorrow night.

'Skeletons' is rated '15' by the BBFC. Tickets can be purchased online via the Picturehouse website.

'The Sorcerer's Apprentice' review + My slot on Radio Reverb

Yesterday I posted a review of Disney's latest blockbuster, 'The Sorcerer's Apprentice', over at Obsessed with Film - so check that out! It is rather less inflammatory than my last bit of writing for the site, so hopefully I can leave the witness protection program now.

'The Sorcerer's Apprentice' is rated 'PG' by the BBFC and released this Friday (13th) in the UK.

I have also neglected to mention that I have, for the last two weeks, been acting as a regular film reviewer for a breakfast show on Brighton's Radio Reverb, hosted by a lovely lady named Ridder. The show is from 8-10 on Friday mornings and my regular guest slot is around 9.10. So listen in online or on 97.2 FM if you're a local person.

Don't forget to tune in!

'Knight and Day' review: Light-hearted summer fun...

'Knight and Day', starring Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz and directed by James Mangold ('Walk the Line'), is the latest movie in what has almost become a sub-genre of action romantic-comedies. Films like this year's Jennifer Aniston vehicle 'The Bounty Hunter' and 'Date Night' starring Steve Carell and Tina Fey, have found varying degrees of success by blending gentle humour with low-key action. But it is probably Doug Liman's 2005 film 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith' that 'Knight and Day' resembles most closely: the leads of both having genuine star power and sex appeal, whilst the action is rather more violent, high-octane and central to proceedings.

There is something old fashioned about 'Knight and Day'. Mangold avoids the fast-cutting, music video style of direction which now the norm in action films. Instead we are allowed to see clearly what is going on at all times, making the actions scenes (especially the car chases) more exciting then they otherwise would be. The sound design is equally good with the dialogue always clearly audible. When Tom Cruise's rogue spy, Roy Miller, talks to the terrified fish-out-of-water June Havens (Cameron Diaz) whilst hanging onto the bonnet of her car, he is improbably easy to hear through the car windshield and over the gunfire and the traffic. This is stark opposition to the hyper-realist sound mixes used in films like 'Miami Vice' - and I for one welcome it.



It is also old fashioned in its use of stunt work and location shooting, with Tom Cruise clearly doing a lot of the motorcycle and sports car driving himself, over the streets of Austria, Spain and the US. There is undoubtedly a lot of CGI going on (clearly in the case of the plane crash and probably in the case of the Pamplona bull running sequence), but that doesn't detract from the immerse nature of many of the action set-pieces. Many of them are only a few notches more realistic than those in the recent 'A-Team' movie and they are a lot of fun. Mangold is also pretty brave in that he allows many bits of action business to occur off-camera (for instance when Diaz is unconscious). It is almost as if the director is admitting that it is immaterial how our heroes escape certain situations: we know that they will emerge victorious and it is as if we are simply being told to enjoy the ride.

There is also a good deal of chemistry between the two stars, re-united here after playing opposite one another in Cameron Crowe's 'Vanilla Sky' back in 2001. Cruise is good value, knowingly playing up to his current off-screen persona as slightly mentally imbalanced in a film that, for at least some of its running time, requires you to question whether he is a who he says he is, or, in fact, a dangerous fantasist. Diaz is fidgety, hyper-active and irritating, as ever, but she is not without a certain charm and seems to shine especially bright opposite Cruise. It is to the duo's credit that the film manages to survive some very cringe-worthy and cliché dialogue (notably when talking about their aspirations) down to the goodwill the pair engender.



There are also some decent supporting actors here, such as Peter Sarsgaard (last seen seducing Carey Mulligan in 'An Education'), who plays the agent assigned to apprehend the duo by any means necessary, and Paul Dano ('There Will be Blood', 'Little Miss Sunshine'), whose nervous, young scientist is probably the comic highlight (though that is mainly due to his ridiculous facial hair).

However, it isn't a perfect film by any stretch. John Powell's score is terrible, seemingly shouting "hey! It's a comedy!" during the fight scenes and announcing "hey! We're in Spain!" during the Pamplona action. A good score supports the on-screen action, whereas this one often works directly against it. There is also a nasty, generic Spanish-speaking villain, as has become recent Hollywood custom (notably in this summer's 'A-Team' and 'The Expendables'). It is also not a very humanistic movie, with Cruise murdering FBI agents everywhere he goes (which is apparently OK).

Much of the comedy falls flat, but in the end it is pretty good-natured, light-hearted action-adventure that wins the day. 'Knight and Day' is similar to 'A-Team', in that it is a loony action movie which doesn't take itself at all seriously. But 'Knight and Day' is much better made than that, has better visual effects and the action is directed far more coherently. It also has less plot exposition than any film this summer, which is also quite refreshing. It is no masterpiece and it isn't advancing the art of film making in any way - quite the reverse, 'Knight and Day' seems to look backwards to (dare I say it) a simpler time. But that is perhaps its single greatest feature. Perhaps because of this, it is also the best of the recent action rom-coms by some distance.

'Knight and Day' is rated '12A' by the BBFC and is out now across the UK.