In the near future, Japan’s economy has collapsed with unemployment soaring to 15 percent and gangs of youths acting in open defiance of authority figures- a particular ‘no no’ in Japanese culture. Although it is never specified whether this is a global issue, Japan has responded to the impending social catastrophe by passing the Battle Royale (or ‘BR’) Law, requiring that each year a ninth grade class be randomly selected and sent to a remote island where they’ll be forced to kill one another with a variety of weapons until only one student remains. Any student refusing to participate will be killed.

It’s a premise that promises a subversive smashing of taboos as children are killed on screen. But… it’s a fairly standard dystopian conceit beefed up by including children. The death of a child on screen is a social pressure point that retains its shock value despite repetition.

The film aroused both domestic and international controversy and was either banned outright or deliberately excluded from distribution in many countries. However, it was a mainstream domestic blockbuster and became one of the ten highest grossing films in Japan.

 

As tasteless as the premise is, it also has potential for satire, especially when it comes to technologically savvy children and how scary they can be for adults. Parents often respond to that fear by condescending to them: short-changing a child’s capacity for understanding as well as for cruelty.

The notion of children running around a creepy island gunning each other down can certainly resonate with a world that’s haunted by problematic gun-control laws, as well as the school shootings that periodically disturb our illusions of stability and sanity.

But…

Battle Royale squanders its considerable potential with a harsh juxtaposition between the smugly leering opening scene- involving last year’s smirking bloodsoaked winner- and a temporary trip into a moony, melodramatic mood that’s meant, one assumes, to reflect the dreams and fears of your typical moony, melodramatic 15 year old.

But the romanticism doesn’t mesh with the show-off nihilism of the opening and both distract from the ultimate story, which is of the current class that’s subjected to the Battle Royale.

This poor class is let into the bad news by a grave former teacher who explains the rules of the game to the new contestants while casually killing a few of them for insubordination— death staged here as a punchline. Each child must then snatch up a backpack containing food, a map, and a weapon of choice. And then flee into the wilds of the island! … and slaughter each other!

Unlike The Hunger Games, the ruthless opportunism of TV doesn’t appear to be the subject of the film’s satire, as the battle itself doesn’t appear to be televised. The last 30 minutes are awful, inexplicably morphing into an inspirational tale of transcending abuse. We’re supposed to suddenly feel empathy for the monstrous teacher previously shown as all too willing to kill his former students in the name of bureaucratic nonsense.

The film’s director, Kinji Fukasaku, decided to direct the film after connecting with the novel it is based upon. 15-year-old Fukasaku was made to work in a munitions factory during World War 2. When the factory came under artillery fire in July 1945 the children were unable to escape and dived under each other for cover. The survivors were forced to dispose of the corpses and at that point realised their government was lying to them.

THAT is the film I want to see. I enjoy the stylisation of Battle Royale- it’s just missing a beating heart.

Shawshank Redemption regularly tops ‘best films of all time’ lists, and despite being a box office disappointment at the time, received multiple award nominations, has become a fan favourite and was selected by the United States Library of Congress for preservation in the National Film Registry. But is it actually a good film…?

Yes.

Obviously.

Shush.

Okay so, it’s a little mawkish, we never get to know the main character, it’s very long, the dialogue is deliberate, it’s almost universally bathed in a warm glow and it doesn’t break any rules or revolutionize the moviemaking business.

But isn’t that WHY it’s such a good film?

In 1940s Maine, banker Andy Dufresne is wrongly convicted of murdering his wife and her lover, and sentenced to two consecutive life sentences at Shawshank State Penitentiary. There he befriends contraband smuggler Ellis “Red” Redding, who is also serving a life sentence. The film charts the men’s friendship as Andy tries to prove his innocence and break free, all whilst…

Oddly, for a film set inside a prison, “The Shawshank Redemption” creates warm feelings in audiences because we become part of the prisoners’ extended family. Ignoring the cheap thrills of vicarious experiences and superficial shocks of emotion from similar films (in which we pretend we relate to a situation the majority of us, fingers crossed, can never understand), the voiceover conceit is used so well here that the ‘othering’ actually brings us closer.

I say this a lot but I find that I’m more open and receptive to ideas when they’re not being shoved down my throat but instead subtly slipped in through a warm hug of a film. If you have a message to share then don’t make me turn away from the screen in disgust by using a brutal beating as a shock tactic- make me love that character so

I HAVE to keep watching to check they’re okay.

Although the hero of the film is former banker Andy, the action is never seen from his point of view and the voice over is Red’s. The redemption, when it comes, is Red’s. Through Andy’s example we’ve been shown that if you keep true to yourself, not give up hope, set a great example, bide your time and grab that chance when it eventually comes… you can make it.

The voiceover can be a sticking point for some viewers but it’s key to the film’s structure and shows that the film is not about the hero but about our relationship with him, the curiosity, pity and admiration. It adds a level of mystery that having Andy as the heroic centre would have destroyed. Yes, it keeps the viewer at arms length but no, that doesn’t stop our enjoyment. It in fact adds another level of deeper meaning- bare with me, I’m going to get meta here…

We don’t actually know for sure whether Andy did or did not commit the murders. He says he didn’t. He’s a good man. He doesn’t lie. The men surrounding him believe he didn’t do it. We feel for them, for him. We believe he didn’t do it.

But we don’t know.

This film gives an audience a message of hope, something we’re undoubtedly desperate for. We want him to be innocent and by keeping him in the spotlight but inscrutable the film makes him so. Could the film possibly be commenting on our tendency to allow our emotional reactions to cloud our judgement, the same way a jury does…?

And even if it isn’t, even if there is no deeper meaning… does that necessarily make it a bad film?

I for one am all for a feel-good.

 

In my review of Imagine Me and You I said it was a lesbian version of the British rom-com. Gray Matters is the lesbian version of the screwball comedy. Neither of these films is particularly groundbreaking, they’re not going to revolutionize the world. They’re not the world’s best films, but they certainly deserve to do better than they did when they first came out.  

The thing is, the bar for a good lesbian film is set so low that a middling straight film in which no one dies is an amazingly great lesbian one.

Spoiler: no one dies in this film.

I know, I’m amazed too! Quick, rush out and find a copy!

I’m kidding. I know you buy the DVD online. Or stream it. Legally. My point is, I have become so incredibly bored by your stupid lesbian drama, Hollywood, that a film in which happy people have a little back and forth and it’s more than a little contrived and the set up is… strange… counts as a VERY GOOD FILM.

Because realizing you’re gay is not the worst thing in the world and having lesbian feelings does not turn you into a maniac!

On to a review of the actual film: Gray and Sam are a brother and sister who act like the perfect couple; they work in perfect harmony, finish each other’s sentences, enjoy the same films, dance classes, food and… women. Sam finds his perfect mate in Charlie, played by the gorgeous Bridget Moynahan- who, yah, is pretty amazing, and sexy, aside from being one of those awful movie women who doesn’t work out, eats everything and never puts on weight. Yawn.

She’s great but Gray starts to realize she thinks Charlie is more than just ‘great’… dun dun dun! It’s a lighthearted triviality of a lesbian film that is, in many ways, similar to the 1940s movies that our hero and heroine love so much. With fun, fast dialogue, old-fashioned dance numbers and beautiful leads.

I enjoy the film but, let’s be honest, it isn’t amazing. Its convoluted structure, zany side characters and pseudo-emotional evolution aren’t allowing the story to breathe. There’s a very on-the-nose speech when Gray accepts her gayness where she explains she’s not sad because she’s gay, she’s sad because she won’t be able to get married and her partner won’t be respected when she dies. Points for treating gayness as an everyday, ordinary thing rather than a major problem however.

Heather Graham and Thomas Cavanagh as the siblings make a good match but Graham’s stilted line delivery makes an even bigger point of just how strange Gray is- she has to have her coffee in a certain, strange way. She has to have her martini in a certain, strange way. She has to have her hot dog in a certain, strange way. Why? It’s so affected. Half this and half that? Is it supposed to show she’s indecisive? It doesn’t. It’s just weird. And she isn’t indecisive, she’s unaware she’s gay, that’s a very different thing.

The film does a line in unrealistic, sitcom-like characters and scenarios, to the extent that it feels like a feature-length episode of Will & Grace. With the exception of the amazing-as-always Molly Shannon, the other side characters are exceptionally weird. Alan Cumming is unnecessary and Sissy Spacek, as Gray’s shrink, isn’t even laughably bad- she’s just bad. They’re a hindrance to the main plot and a silly distraction. Again, except for Molly Shannon. She’s brilliant.

So, in conclusion: watch this film, it’s funny and sweet, nice from a lesbian point of view but not earth shattering and probably quite irritating if you dislike a screwball comedy.