This past week I watched two more foreign films from Asia, Hong Kong's crime drama "Infernal Affairs" and Japan's ghost-story anthology "Kwaidan".
"Infernal Affairs" (2002) tells the story of two intertwined characters: one, a cop who has been working undercover as a thug in the local crime gangs for ten years, the other, a criminal working as a mole in the police department for the local gang boss. If this story sounds familiar, it should. Martin Scorsese's Oscar-winning film "The Departed" (2007) was a remake of this movie.
It was interesting to watch the original film and see where William Monahan, screenwriter of "The Departed", deviated and where he stayed faithful. Surprisingly, one of the bigger set pieces from "The Departed", a scene where the mob engages in a drug deal with a rival gang while being watched and monitored by the police, occurs extremely early in "Infernal Affairs", I believe within the first act. It is here that both sides, criminal and police, realize they have a mole in their outfit, as both detectives try to alert their side to what's happening.
Other than this reshuffling of events, the film remains very similar to Scorsese's, including the deaths of the two father figures (criminal and moral), and the way in which both detectives realize the identities of their spy-counterpart.
The biggest difference between the films is the handling of the corrupt detective, Det. Lau in "Affairs", Colin (Matt Damon) in "Departed". In "Affairs", there is a very distinct conflict raging within Lau as he wrestles with his duty to Boss Sam and his increasing desire to be a "good guy". In "Departed", I never once thought that Damon's character wished to be a normal detective, fighting crime. In both cases, the character receives a promotion and is in the process of moving into a new place with his beautiful girlfriend.
Certainly this weighs heavily on both characters' minds, but in "Departed", Damon makes his decision to cut ties with his former gang as a result of a revelation and a betrayal. It feels like an emotional reaction to bad news rather than a thoughtful and debated conclusion. In "Affairs", Lau makes the decision because he has chosen to be the "good guy" (his girlfriend, a writer, has been struggling with a new character in her book, trying to decide which side of the moral spectrum he falls into) and he wants to put his criminal past behind him.
This is a huge difference between the films. Both deal with the nature of morality and show how easy it is to blur the line between good and evil, cop and criminal. But while the good detective character (DiCaprio, Tony Leung) remains a hero in both movies, never going over to the Dark Side, "Affairs" treats the bad detective differently than "The Departed" does, giving him an air of tragedy.
The final sequence is much different than in "The Departed" (surprisingly so), and the closing shot left me feeling quite sad, whereas the final scene of "The Departed" was cathartic and left me feeling vindicated. In both films the obvious villains are the criminals, but only in "The Departed" is the mole-detective treated as such. I hated Matt Damon's character. He was a real asshole. I definitely could not say the same about Detective Lau in "Affairs".
Another large difference is the way in which the deaths are treated in this film. After a major character is killed, the film usually flashes back to moments of that character's life (in black and white) and is accompanied by a somber voiced female singing a song of woe. Western audiences might find this to be cheesy, but this could be typical of Hong Kong dramatic filmmaking. "Infernal Affairs" is still a good, taught drama, and I recommend it for fans of "The Departed" and anyone who enjoys a good crime yarn.
"Kwaidan" (1964) is a ghost-story anthology told in four parts. Indeed, the word "kwaidan" means "ghost story" in the broadest sense, but deeming a tale as such gives it an old-fashioned connotation of belonging to an older period of Japan's history (and separates it from newer Japanese horror like "The Ring" and "Ju-On"). So it is of no surprise that none of the four stories take place in contemporary Japan. The film is based on Lafcadio Hearn's collection of Japanese folk-tales, known as "Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things", and the four stories taken from his tome are as follows:
The Black HairThe story of a poor samurai who leaves his loving wife for a marriage of convenience and social mobility elsewhere. After years of an unhappy (yet socially and monetarily profitable) marriage, he begins to miss his former wife and true love, and regrets his decision. The samurai sets out for his old home, but what he finds there will shock and horrify him.
The Woman of the SnowThe story of a woodsman and his apprentice who get lost in a snowstorm and are visited by a snow-demon or snow-vampire; a beautifully pale woman dressed all in white. She kills the elderly woodsman, blowing her icy breath into his body and stealing away his blood. She permits the apprentice to live under the condition that he promise to never tell anyone what happened that night, and if he does, she will return to kill him. The apprentice goes back to town and lives his life, soon gaining a young wife and children. Years later, however, he feels the urge to discuss the event with his wife, which may lead to disastrous results
Hoichi, the EarlessThe story of a blind musician living at a monastery who can masterfully sing
The Tale of the Heike that retells the Battle of Dan-no-ura, an epic sea-battle between the rival gangs of the Genji and the Heike. The monastery sits near the cliffs of that ancient battle, an area that is said to be haunted by all those who lost their lives during the war. One night he is visited by a mysterious stranger, beckoning him to come and sing for his master. As he is blind, Hoichi does not realize this is the ghost of one of the Heike samurai. After a few nights of stealing away to play for his new masters, his curious co-workers at the monastery follow him. They find him singing in a graveyard to a bunch of tombstones, so they drag him back to the priest, thinking him bewitched.
The priest determines that another night singing to the ghosts will put Hoichi permanently under their spell- and they'll "tear him to pieces", so the priest, in a very memorable moment, paints holy words and texts over every inch of Hoichi's body. This will render the musician invisible when the ghost returns. Unfortunately, the priest forgets to paint Hoichi's ears, and based on the title of the story, you may be able to figure out what happens next. The samurai, after all, must provide proof to his master that he attempted to find Hoichi, and only being able to see the musician's ears, he decides to take those back with him...
In a Cup of TeaIn what may be one of the coolest ideas, but also the shortest and most incomplete story, "In a Cup of Tea" is about a rule-breaking samurai who, when filling his bowl with refreshing tea, sees the image of a pale, smiling man reflected back at him. Dumping the tea, refilling it, and breaking the bowl brings no change- the creepily smiling man gets closer and closer, until soon his entire face fills the bowl. The angry and thirsty samurai finally disregards this ghostly image and drinks.
That night while on patrol in his master's house, he is visited by the smiling man who says the samurai attempted to wrong him earlier in the day (presumably by drinking the tea he was reflected in). The short-tempered samurai will have none of this and attacks the ghost, stabbing him in the shoulder and causing him to disappear. Later, three brightly colored ghosts appear and announce themselves as the smiling man's servants. They say the samurai has injured him, and in a few days they will return to deal with the samurai.
Again, the samurai basically says "Screw you" and attacks the apparitions, but through some clever camera-work and editing, the servants all disappear before they can be run through by the samurai's spear. Eventually, he is able to wound all of them, and they each disappear, but before he can celebrate they reappear unscathed. This causes the samurai to start laughing like a madman, the last desperate outburst of a man on the edge.
This story is actually a story within a story, and it is bookended by scenes of a man inspecting a writer's house, searching for him as he has disappeared. The man reads his new story (which is the ghost tale we have just witnessed). It has no ending (the writer mentioning in his notes he couldn't find one suitable enough), and as the man goes for a drink of tea, he is horrified to find the writer's image smiling back at him through the reflection.
"Kwaidan" was directed by Masaki Kobayashi, who gave the film a very artful look. Most outdoor scenes were shot in sound-stages, allowing for great control over color in the background. "The Woman of the Snow" features some beautiful sets, including painted backgrounds featuring giant, creepy eyes that represent the snow-witch while also looking like natural formations. Kobayshi transforms the mood of a scene instantly by changing the lights from warm yellows to cold, icy blues within the same shot.
The Battle of Dan-no-ura in the Hoichi tale features bright oranges and yellows and incorporates a massive amount of dry-ice created fog to give the set a beautiful, yet spooky look. In one sequence, as Hoichi's friends look for him, they find floating balls of fire, a brilliant effect that is later repeated as the graveyard Hoichi sang in is once again transformed into the ghostly temple he thought he was performing in. The balls of fire float and dance all across the set, and nary a wire is to be seen guiding them. Its an effect I hope to emulate one day.
Kobayshi also uses some interesting camerawork, especially in "The Black Hair" (a tale that may have influenced the spooky, long black hair-obsessed stories of "The Ring" and "Ju-On" aka "The Grudge"). In this story, once the samurai is driven mad and starts running through his derelict house, Kobayashi slowly dollies the camera after the samurai and, within the same shot, turns it into a canted Dutch angle to represent the descent into madness. It makes for a beautiful shot that I rewound to watch again and again.
In fact, a case could be made for Kobayshi using each story to focus on a particular aspect of filmmaking. "The Black Hair" featured some interesting camerawork, "The Woman of the Snow" some brilliant set design and lighting, "Hoichi, the Earless" special effects, and "In a Cup of Tea" editing.
"Kwaidan" was a very enjoyable film, though at times it did feel long, as none of the stories are particularly exciting. The music is extremely spartan, popping up only every once in awhile as the sound of a traditional instrument being played loudly for a brief moment, used to heighten our awareness of what's occurring in a scene. But it was a beautiful film for the most part, and I'd gladly watch it again, as I feel there is much to be learned from Kobayashi's style of filmmaking and his ability to create mood.
Well that's all for now. Next week the Asian Film Fest continues with a look at the banned-in-the United States kids-with-guns flick, "Battle Royale".
--Cbake
