| BLOG IN JAPAN -- 10 MAY 2008 |
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I love bowing. I've been doing it frequently over the past few days. It's such a selfless and respectful greeting.
You can wet fish a handshake or force a smile but there's something so completely sincere about a bow. In warrior
terms you are lowering your defenses and offering up a vulnerable part of your body as a gesture of trust. In a
contemporary context (now that so few of us carry swords) you are taking the trouble to bend from the hips, an act
of minute but significant physical exertion, which demonstrates a willingness to commit to a relationship, even if
it is only with a passing concierge or the person checking you in for a flight . It says a lot about the Japanese
as a people, every single one of whom I encountered in my short stay, I found to be polite, friendly and very sweet.
So, I begin this blog with a bow, to you my friends. A blog bow. A blow, if you will. Konichiwa.
All this goodwill and abdominal strain make it even more frustrating, that I have to leave a day early. Having been in three hugely differing time zones in a week (LA, London, Tokyo) the jet lag hit me like a train yesterday so I decided to bow out early to minimize my recovery time next week. I have interviews on Monday morning for the DVD release of The Good Night, not to mention a big meeting which Nira and I are attending in the afternoon, about something I should be able to share with you soon. Not only this but our potential Paul director is flying in for meetings and I want to be sparky for that. Also, I have to fly to Cannes on Thursday for a How To Lose Friends beano. So, Japan. If you read Edgar's blog, there will probably be some information that crosses over. We are after all, here together and spending much of our time in each other's company. It says a lot about Edgar that he knocked out a blog when he, like me, awoke with depressing vivacity at 3.30am. Eball got straight on his computer, whilst I watched Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, which indeed, says a lot about me. Also the reason Edgar couldn't locate the "younger, nicer Scarlett Johansen" was because she was in with me, watching the film, although she prefers Order Of The Phoenix. Night one was a blast. As Edgar mentioned we had dinner at the House of Blue Leaves inspiring, Gonpachi restaurant, what he didn't mention is that we drank sake and ate sushi with Yoda. Tom Yoda, to be precise, the chairman of Universal Japan, who legend has it was the inspiration for the titular Jedi Master. Imagine the geekgasm, having dinner in what genuinely looked like a set from Kill Bill, with someone called Yoda. Swallow my Nigri, I barely could.
Gucci Tabito, Edgar and me at dinner.
The next day's press was as relentless and exhausting as you might expect 10 hours of self promotion to be. It was however made delightful by the wonderful array of interviewers, which included a Ninja glove puppet and Japan's air guitar Champion. Not to mention the mountain of comics, magazines and toys we were given as gifts. I am happy to say that I am now the proud owner of three Godzillas* which will now take pride of place on the shelves of my home office. The whole day was considerably smoothed by the efforts of my interpreter, whose name was Yumi (Yes, like the character in McSpaced). That evening, we took off into Rapongi for sushi then on to the Cavern Club for a glimpse of the Japanese Beatles. See Edgar's blog for evidence of our encounter with Fab Four.
Us and the boys from Champion Red. They did that pic for us.
The next day involved more of the same, although a combination of jet lag and a stomach upset forced me to sit out of a few interviews, my thanks to Edgar for soldiering on without me. I did rally to make an appearance on a crazy Japanese daytime TV show (think Lost in Translation), set in a castle and presided over by a princess with an impossibly high voice, on which I had to judge a 'taking the bullet' contest between Edgar, The Princess and her wonderfully camp servant. Each contestant had to stand up and react 'Spaced style' to the sound of a gun shot, miming a dramatic death. Out of courtesy to our hosts, I chose the princess as the winner (not least because she was incredibly cute, like a l iving breathing Manga character), with the servant second and Edgar last, even though he performed a brilliantly extravagant double tap to the stomach and head respectively and wound up lying on the studio floor with his impressively reduced tummy on display. In the evening, I had a blissful shiatsu massage then ventured out to a bar to meet some of our Japanese fans. I didn't realize this but the reason Hot Fuzz is getting a belated showing in Japan is because a sizable number of people signed a petition, demanding a theatrical release. How amazing is that?! What a wonderful example of people power. We're big in Japan! Who knew? The event had been set up so that some of the petitioners could gather and celebrate their success. I got there before Edgar, fresh from my shiatsu and walked straight into a very excited Q and A hosted by the man responsible for the whole campaing, Rintaro Watanabe. The best English speaker was selected from the crowd and worked as translator, so that I could answer questions. It was a thoroughly enjoyable night, culminating in some banging beats from some genuine Tokyo Hip Hoppers. The whole night only confirmed my suspicion that the Japanese are possibly the sweetest most enthusiastic people on Earth (present company accepted). I left proud to call myself Otaku, which is the Japanese word for Geek. My huge thanks and admiration go to Gucci, Tabito, Shintaro, Yumi and all at Gaga.
Saying goodbye to Tabito, Shintaro and Gucci I've just taken off from Narita, on my way home to Maureen and Minnie. I cannot wait to see them. Sayonara. Sx
*I'm not a student anymore but it's a fact that once you've studied film theory and interpretation, you can never really switch off the urge to analyze and deconstruct. You can turn it down, reducing it to a vague whisper in the back of your head but you cannot completely curtail it. I remember my Professor at Bristol University, before he began our first film lecture saying, "after today, you will never watch films in the same way again". He was right. Holding one of my Godzillas up against the Tokyo skyline, I got to thinking about this Japanese icon in relation to the Cloverfield's city smasher and about the metaphorical implications of them both. It's widely regarded that Godzilla is a manifestation of Japan's post atomic stress, an avatar generated by a nation struggling to comprehend it's own apocalypse. Godzilla is the physical embodiment of rad rage, let loose to wreak punitive havoc on Japan's cities. The id tearing the intellect a new ass. Interestingly though, the implication is that Godzilla is not some foreign marauder but a local boy, awoken from the depths of the Pacific Ocean by Hydrogen Bomb tests. This would suggest a certain amount of self reflexive guilt with regard to the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as if there exists a subconscious sense of complicity in their fate. Not on an individual level but nationally, owing to an aggressive foreign policy which lead to their bloody entry into WW2. Although nobody deserves to suffer such horrific devastation, this unconscious acceptance that violence begets violence is an extremely progressive and mature demonstration of post war self analysis. It is as if Japan is even now, 28 films later, is re-imagining it's own destruction and drawing comfort from it. If Godzilla is an example of post Hiroshima cinema, then Cloverfield is clearly, blatantly even, post 9/11. Much of the film's imagery, the dust clouded streets, the dazed spectators, the desperate confusion, are drawn directly from the images beamed across the world on that awful day, so much so, the film was accused by some (wrongly I feel) of cynical reenactment. The beast then, let's call him Clover, is surely the embodiment of the Islamic threat. Brutal, elusive and indistinct, Clover represents the huge but hard to identify danger facing the West, possibly even prowling its streets at this present time. The fact that the monster is barely glimpsed for much of the film is a reflection of the difficulty we experience in defining the motives of our attackers or the reasons for the threat. It's telling that the designers of Clover, positioned him as a petulant child, a newborn, killing and destroying without cause or justification. There is of course no justification for either killing or destroying but it is interesting that the sense of partial culpability arguably demonstrated in the Godzilla mythology is somewhat absent here. (Spoiler alert) If we are to run with the wonderfully subtle implication that Clover's origin is alien, implied by the glimpsed meteor hitting the sea during the final Coney Island sequence, then we must view the humans in the film as completely innocent and unwitting victims. There is no sense that the attack might be the consequence of an earlier act of aggression perpetrated by our own body politic. This mirrors the West's own sense of bewilderment at the horrific violence inflicted upon us both on 9/11 and 7/7 and the general lack of real knowledge as to why certain factions in the Middle East demonstrate such bitter hatred towards us. Of course all violence is wrong and those subject to it are of always victims but it is a fact that our respective governments are happy for us to ponder 'how' such atrocities can be committed against us but less inclined for us to discover 'why'. Indeed, with the free flow of information as it is and stories from the front lines, far less easy to suppress, we in the West are perhaps becoming more aware of ourselves as participants in a much larger, older war than the one ongoing in Iraq. With images filtering back of civilian casualties or the sinister celebrations at Abu Grabe, it is becoming increasingly difficult to position ourselves as the shining advocates of truth, justice and freedom and although in Cloverfield, the victims are a dumbfounded population of innocent city folk, it is possible to interpret Clover's rampage, like Godzilla's, to be somewhat punitive. A reluctant acceptance perhaps, that if we are not part of the solution, we are part of the problem. Yay! Free period next!
Godzilla attacks Tokyo. Thank God I had my camera!
The Savages - Drama/comedy with Laura Linney and Philip Seymour Hoffman about a brother and sister dealing with the slow deterioration of their father. Sounds a little depressing but was ultimately heartwarming with beautifully understated performances throughout. The Water Horse - Stirring family fun involving one boy's relationship with a legendary sea beast during WW2. Patriarchy shone through the prism of the Loch Ness Monster and split into a variety of embodiments. Made me cry a bit at the end. Partly because the creature reminded me of Minnie and partly because I'm a sucker for rousing endings involving aquatic monsters.
The Water Horse
Dan In Real Life - I was going to watch The Kite Runner but I was feeling delicate after The Water Horse, so I opted for this. I was expecting a lightweight romantic comedy but it was actually much more than that, thanks to some neat writing and a typically engaging performance from Steve Carell. He has to be one of the most watchable and charming actors working today. I cried a bit at the end and there wasn't even any aquatic monsters in it. The Kite Runner - Story of two Afghan boys' enduring friendship. Brilliant. Best film of the flight. Beautifully adapted and performed. I cried a bit at the end.
Simon and Edgar recording some idents for Japanese TV. This comes straight from the horse's mouth.
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