Film Notes for April 6 to 12, 1998

April 7: Vanity Fare

Where's the fire? | FIREWORKS (HANA-BI) (Takeshi Kitano, 1997) ** won the big prize at the Venice Film Festival, and like the runner-up THE BUTCHER BOY (Neil Jordan), I was puzzled why it won (looking over the films in competition I preferred Zhang Yimou's KEEP COOL, Benoit Jacquot's THE SEVENTH HEAVEN and --- from the ones I've seen).

Apparently, in Japanese hanabi means fireworks. The insertion of a dash into the title dissects the word into fire (hana) and flower (bi), but the film's errant mix of toughs and tenderness provides little spark.

In FIREWORKS, a cop alternates between fiery fits and loving moments. Still grieving over his recently deceased daughter and coping with fresh knowledge that his wife is dying, Nishi's (Beat Kitano, Takeshi's acting name; he also wrote, directed and edited) problems are compounded by partner Horibe's shooting while he was at the hospital. His mental burden is in evidence at a later stakeout where Nishi's violent side makes an appearance with an excessive use of firearms.

Nishi's brutality is countered by his quiet devotion to his wife and Horibe, his partner and childhood friend who winds up paraplegic, separated from his wife and child, and suicidal. Sharing his pain and perhaps to make amends, Nishi encourages Horibe to pass the time by making art, sending him supplies and a beret. He also takes his wife on a trip to Mt. Fuji.

Now unemployed perhaps due to his earlier outburst, Nishi's generosity needs the financial backing of a bank robbery (Japanese banks must be the most well-staffed ones I've seen) and yakuza loan sharks, the latter particularly persistent in collecting their dues.

On film, Kitano makes his expressionless Nishi a too-smooth operator in the fisticuffs department with the fluid ability to overpower yakuza toughs, and these don't belong in the same film with the engaging silent moments between Nishi and his wife. Kitano plays Nishi like a sullen Arnold with joints tensed and well-lubricated for action. Dreams of Schwarzenegger don't gel well with sparse drama.

The niggling thought that FIREWORKS was a vanity project went unabandoned with Kitano's woefully naive paintings littered throughout. Calling Kitano a Renaissance man with graphic skills such as this makes dunces of us all. Outside a Kitano film would these have been so abundantly displayed? In the film they function acceptably as Horibe's first artistic efforts although ending clumsily with a Snow-Light-Suicide action painting.

For Horibe, painting gives his life new meaning, and this is scary indeed. Think of a misguided and unskilled Georgia O'Keefe soullessly substituting flowers into anything similar in shape, be it a dog's head or an owl's eyes, erasing and eliminating for the sake of beauty's immediacy. Is this hopeful? It's automaton painting, and in FIREWORKS it is given unmerited time and visual space.

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APOSTLE takes the long road to salvation | Because THE APOSTLE (Robert Duvall, 1997) ** runs too long and features Duvall in almost every scene, thoughts that it is a vanity project may emerge. Duvall somewhat redeems himself with an enthusiastic performance as the Apostle E.F., a preacher on the run from the law, but it isn't enough.

Slightly over two hours isn't obscenely long, but with the bulk of it snake-oil evangelism I happily skip over on Sunday morning TV, THE APOSTLE made me itch for variety and deliverance. The cops don't come collecting soon enough.

Next week's viewing sked includes CHARACTER.