Tag Archives: Takehiro Hira

Samurai West

Tornado

by George Wolf

Less than ten minutes into Tornado, you’ll be wondering about the cinematographer behind the expansive beauty on the screen. That would be the Oscar-nominated Robbie Ryan (The Favourite, Poor Things), who elevates writer/director John Maclean’s Samurai survival thriller with consistently sumptuous framing of Scotland’s savage beauty.

In the late 1790’s, young Tornado (Kôki) is on the run from a ruthless crime gang led by Sugarman (Tim Roth) and his son Little Sugar (Jack Lowden). Tornado performs enchanting puppet shows with her father Fujin (Takehiro Hira), but when their traveling show crosses paths with Sugarman and his boys, some impulsive choices lead to deadly consequences.

A full decade after Maclean’s impressive debut Slow West (also shot by Ryan), he returns to a similar story structure. A young adult must again navigate harsh countryside and the threat of violence, while keeping their wits about them and their focus on a committed goal.

But this time, the young Tornado has a bit more going for her when events turn ugly. Fujin is a Samurai, and though he has been teaching his daughter the importance of patience and peace, Tornado is more than handy with a sword.

She also prefers to speak English and often scoffs at her father’s attempts to impart wisdom, character traits Maclean uses to place her between cultures. Tornado seems more vulnerable as Sugarman closes in, and the need to accept her destiny becomes increasingly clear.

Anyone who saw Slow West won’t be surprised by the Western themes here, but the influence of martial arts classics starts simmering early in Tornado before Maclean puts Samurai lore at the heart of act three. The transition isn’t completely seamless and does seem a bit overdue by the time it arrives, but terrific performances by both Kôki and Roth create a compelling dynamic on the way to a showdown.

The offbeat humor of Slow West is missed, and though the support cast is strong (especially Joanne Whalley and Jack Morris), no side character makes a mark as unforgettable as Ben Mendelsohn’s Payne from a decade ago.

Instead, it’s Ryan who isn’t afraid to steal the show. Tornado is a simply gorgeous movie, a compelling Samurai Western hybrid that’s painted on a canvas deserving of the big screen.

Beasts of Burden

Rumours

by George Wolf

Did you know that swag bags at the G7 Summit come with a free copy of Incumbent Life magazine?

That’s just one example of the winking comedy at work in Rumours, which finds Guy Maddin teaming with brothers Evan and Galen Johnson to pen a well-developed satire about the “burden of leadership.”

At this latest Summit, the leaders of Germany (Cate Blacchett), the U.S. (Charles Dance), Canada (Roy Dupuis), Italy (Rolondo Ravello), Great Britain (Nikki Amuka-Bird), France (Denis Ménochet) and Japan (Takehiro Hira) all agree they need to draft a cohesive statement on an unnamed world crisis.

Actually doing it becomes more of a challenge, one that gets even harder when they all find themselves lost in the woods around the German compound. With no servants in sight, the Heads of State grow fearful of Bog Zombies, are perplexed by the oversized brain they come across, and incredulous when the missing President of the European Commission (Alicia Vikander) suddenly reappears.

That’s a busy night.

Evan Johnson directs, putting understandable confidence in these wonderful actors to craft distinct personalities while grounding the comedy with the bone dry delivery required to wring the last ounce of wry mischief from every line. The target is more than just fiddling while the world burns, it’s aimed at those who congratulate themselves just for agreeing that the temperature has changed.

This is high concept satire, for sure, but Johnston doesn’t front load the fun. The steady pace has room for surprises throughout, with enough relatable truth to smooth out the overly goofy spots.

And for those who thought Don’t Look Up was just too obvious and on-the-nose, Rumours may be the perfect blend of comedy and world’s end commentary. It’s quieter, more polite, but still able to wield absurdity as a potent spotlight on the pathetic.

And just look at that big brain near Blanchett!

Lost (Girls) in Translation

Lost Girls and Love Hotels

by Brandon Thomas

“I tell myself…there’s no happy ending.”

Cinema revels in emotion. It’s why the artform has lasted well over a century. We love to experience films that make us laugh, make us afraid, and make us examine even the darkest of our decisions. Lost Girls & Love Hotels is an exploration of these painful, disorientated choices.

Margaret (Alexandra Daddario) is an American ex-pat living in Japan. By day, she teaches at a training academy for Japanese stewardesses. By night, Margaret loses herself in booze and random rendezvous in the red light district. Her life of debauchery softens after she meets a brooding Yakuza (Takehiro Hira).

Margaret’s pain and self-loathing are apparent from the opening frames: she drunkenly stumbles through a subway entrance, tears brimming in her wide eyes as she realizes a man is lurking behind her. Fear is less apparent in her distant gaze. What I saw was more akin to someone finally succumbing to their demons. This was rock bottom.

Lost Girls & Love Hotels isn’t looking to break new ground. There’s no way this movie could. What’s interesting – and original – is how this kind of movie is told through the point of view of a female character. We’ve seen self-destructive dudes do this for eons. Let the ladies have a turn at spiraling out of control! 

Daddario turns in an impressive performance as Margaret. She walks a fine line – showing the character’s high-highs and low-lows with ease. Her wide-eyed, all-American look helps her stand out in a mostly Japanese cast. One would expect a person with such outwardly beauty to harbor very little in the way of pain. For a character like this one, believability is key, and Daddario delivers. 

Director William Olsson and writer Catherine Hanrahan (adapting her own novel) haven’t set out to make a salacious sex drama. While Margaret’s BDSM escapades inform who her character is, Lost Girls & Love Hotels is more interested in a person who has latched onto numbing behavior. Isolation, even with a core group of friends and co-workers, is ever-present in Margaret’s condensed world. 

There’s a simmering sense of danger running through the entire film. Olsson never wrings false drama out of it, but that subtle feeling is there nevertheless. When Margaret does find herself in a precarious situation, it feels more like an eventuality, not the tacked-on payoff to a sleazy thriller.

Grounded with an outstanding lead performance, Lost Girls & Love Hotels is a look at how sadness and isolation isn’t something you can run away from – even if you run halfway across the world.