Pop Meets the Void (William Cusick, 2015)

 ☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ out of 10☼
 

The sophomore feature for William Cusick (Welcome to Nowhere) sees him as a keen multi-hyphenate - a writer, director, editor, co-producer, co-composer and star of the (fragmented and non-linear) story about a struggling artist. While the premise is certainly not an original one, it is the unique execution that elevates the film above its counterparts. Four narrative threads, one of them being highly abstract, are tightly interwoven into a form- and genre-defying blend of deadpan dramedy, psychological fantasy and fourth-wall-breaking pseudo-documentary.
 

In the mind-bending prologue, we are introduced to a mysterious figure (Nick Bixby) trapped in a white, decrepit room surrounded by hundreds of glassy, floating octahedrons. Considering the symbolic meaning of the said Platonic solid, he (or rather, it?) could be the embodiment of our downbeat hero's psyche, his spiritual self or some sort of inner (and as we later find out, suicidal) deity. Whatever the case may be, this entity's sequences serve as the 'glue' that holds together dreams and/or (alternative) realities of the protagonist, Walter. But the thing is, it's hard to discern which of his three versions is 'the original'.
 

The best guess would be that the bearded, unkempt introvert whose demos are mostly private and self-confidence constantly undermined by the others is the one imagining his superstar DJ persona ready to retire from the showbiz, as well as his other, down-to-earth alter ego that is a white-collar worker stuck on a dead-end job and with a henpecking wife. Oft-imbued with bitter (self-)irony, their lines reflect the issues which Cusick as an independent filmmaker is, without any doubt, faced with and those autobiographical notes ring very true (especially if the viewer is a like-minded creative with gentle soul).
 

Speaking of notes, the score which complements the trippy visuals has a cool and breezy, or as Walter puts it, 'folky kinda krautrocky' feel to it that sets the right emotional tone. Slightly melancholic, it wonderfully encapsulates 'conflicting concepts of reality' envisioned as an artificial, yet fascinating mélange of live-action and CGI animation (kudos to both VFX expert Jonathan Weiss and cinematographer Bart Cortright). The surreal, distorted imagery of Walter's fancy is a step forward compared to Cusick's more experimental debut, so let's hope he provides us with more gleaming, 'acidic' eye-candy in the future.
 

 

For more info, visit www.popmeetsthevoid.com

Okja (Joon-ho Bong, 2017)

☼☼☼☼☼☼ out of 10☼
 

Armed with a penchant for caricatured and over-the-top characters, such as Jake Gyllenhaal’s ridiculously cartoonish TV presenter and self-proclaimed animal lover Johnny Wilcox, Joon-Ho Bong treads on all-too-familiar territory and delivers another entertaining, slightly off-kilter, occasionally poignant and technically superior film rife with "bold" on-the-nose moments which make it as subtle as the titular CGI creature of elephantine proportions in a crowded underground mall. 

The Whispering Star (Sion Sono, 2015)

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ out of 10☼

Sono's wife Megumi Kagurazaka stars as an intergalactic mailwoman (or rather, mail-gynoid), Yoko Suzuki, in a tranquilizing, deliberately paced arthouse sci-fi drama The Whispering Star (Hiso Hiso Boshi). Powered by several 1.5V AA batteries, her composed, methodical heroine is on the mission of delivering packages across the vast universe - a job that usually takes years to be accomplished.

The question that bothers her is: "Why do people cling to the old-fashioned ways after teleportation has been invented?" And the answer which she will eventually find lies in nostalgia and unpredictable human nature leading them to their demise. Now is probably a good time to mention that the (highly lyrical) story is set in the distant future when humanity is on the brink of extinction due to its own faults.

In a spaceship equipped with antique gear and shaped as a traditional Japanese house, Yoko's only company is M.I.M.E. - a computer machine 6-7 with the soft voice of a child and the appearance of a tube radio adorned with Edison bulbs. Her daily chores are, essentially, those of a diligent homemaker, but she also has a lot of spare time mostly spent listening to the audio-diaries on an analogue tape recorder.

Nothing much happens and yet, Kagurazaka commands your attention, together with the exquisite set design (kudos to Takeshi Shimizu) and post-apocalyptic-like locations of dilapidated Fukushima dubbing as the remnants of terraformed planets. With that in mind, The Whispering Star could be viewed as the soulful and solemn requiem for tsunami and nuclear disaster victims, the seaside scene being the most harrowing.

Once the film starts, you are instantly stunned by the gorgeous sepia-tinged black & white cinematography. Miike's frequent collaborator DP Hideo Yamamoto (Audition, Ichi the Killer, The Happiness of Katakuris) and Sono at his most poetic, restrained, even Tarkovskian achieve to-die-for looks in the vein of some New Wave (Nūberu bāgu) masterpiece. A single splash of color doesn't take away from the sublime beauty of this whispered, gently humorous "adventure", whereby Kagurazaka's non-pro partners add to its austere charm.

So, if you open your mind and put on your patience suit, there's a great chance you will be hypnotized by Sono's contemplative experiment.

Another Alchemikal Sunday (Merzfrau + Purple Dreams)

Merzfrau: Portraits of the Muse, Anna Blume

(Sarahjane Swan + Roger Simian, 2016)

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ out of 10☼

Drawing inspiration from the dadaist (love) poem An Anna Blumme (aka Eve Blossom) by Kurt Schwitters, the Super 8 Alchemist duo Sarahjane Swan and Roger Simian conjure another experimental marvel - a lyrical / non-narrative mind-tripper of a film defying any categorization.

Their distorted visuals which transform the viewer into a mesmerized synesthete, as well as into a perplexed somnambulist, are achieved via 'long-expired Kodachrome 40 filmstock processed in Caffenol (coffee + vitamin c + washing soda) and handcrafted with scratches, nail varnish and permanent markers', as noted in the official synopsis.

The refreshing stream of abstract, occasionally 'palindrome-ized' and emotionally charged imagery is complemented by the dissonant score marrying Gustav Holst's soothing piece Venus, the Bringer of Peace to pounding post-industrial beats by The Bird And The Monkey. A weird, yet bloody effective combo!

It sees Anna Blumme (re)imagined as the 'killer cheekbones' lady called Merzfrau (Ms Swan and her highly expressive face), with Loie Fuller (of the Lumière Brothers' Danse serpentine, 1896) 'casted' as Terpsichore - the muse of dance and chorus. Topping their booming and spuming bloom in the midst of harmonic chaos is Bloomed - Simian's delightfully awkward and brightly dusked homage to the abovementioned poem.

(Merzfrau is not yet available publicly.)

Purple Dreams (Murat Sayginer, 2017)

☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼☼ out of 10☼

The latest offering by the self-taught, multi-award-winning artist Murat Sayginer continues where the previous ones left off - at the peaceful intersection of deified reveries, remodeled myths, esoteric musings and spiritual meanderings. Contemplative and as purple as the title suggests, Sayginer's dreams appear as eidolic figures who might be emerging from the elusive imagination of Kubrick's Star Child.

Despite being rendered in 'plastic' CGI, with all of the 'characters' or rather symbols frozen in time and space, they are imbued with arcane primordial powers which make them wondrously imposing. Whether we are shown Poseidon brooding above the restless waves, an astronaut deeply lost in his own thoughts or a deer whose majestic, tree-like antlers are adorned with keys (to universal truths?), there is something absolute lying behind their stillness. 'Moving' them towards the sublime crescendo is Onur Tarçın's energetic and evocative score.

Song to Song (Terrence Malick, 2017)

☼☼☼☼(☼) out of 10☼

Taking the "I don't even have to try anymore, 'cause my most ardent fans will swallow the microwaved hodgepodge anyway" attitude, Malick delivers a rather bland and messy high-brow, quasi-natural, faux-lyrical, almost self-mocking ensable cast drama which frequently appears as a frustratingly banal and dishonest soap-opera for hipsters, with Rooney Mara's loveliness, handsome locations and Emmanuel Lubezki's gorgeous cinematography being some of the film's few redeeming factors.

Void Paranoid

Green is the new Abstract

and Red is the late Hollow.

 

Flowers wither three screams per second.

(click to enlarge)

Taste of the Obscure 80s Films

... but not as obscure as those from the 90s. 

However, my 25th list for Taste of Cinema is as eclectic as the last unicorn hovering in a glass cage above the streets of fire in Neo Tokyo, during the altered states of consciousness.

10 Great Movies from the 1980s No One Talks About

Still shot from The Legend of Suram Fortress
(Ambavi Suramis tsihitsa, 1985) by Sergei Parajanov

and Dodo Abashidze