ENTRY SIX

BATTLE ROYALE (2000)

When movies are appreciated, I would think there are many levels of appreciation to take into account. The Dark Knight, for example (my second favorite movie of last year) could be an “awesome movie”, an “intelligent blockbuster”, or an complex allegorical study using comic book character tropes to examine society on the brink of anarchy due to unpredictable forces that follow their own rules. But one level of appreciation for universally loved movies can’t be based on the idea that you, the movie consumer, are appreciating this movie uniquely, that your tastes are somehow more eccentric and iconoclastic because you generally enjoyed The Dark Knight. Mainstream popularity of any cultural product is a blessing and a curse. For the studios and filmmakers that churn out movie products that are marketed well regardless of quality, the benefits of popular cinema are simple: money and the ability to make more movie products. Occasionally, and fortunately a lot more often in recent years, a movie can be popular AND intelligent, removing cynicism from jaded film snobs for several weeks at a time, as the local non-art house multiplex offers not one, but maybe 2 or more tolerable movies to choose from on a given weekend. However, when a film like the Dark Knight succeeds on all levels it’s a level of satisfaction that is almost mundane. For myself, it’s life affirming that mainstream movies deliver the goods, but what’s so unique about enjoying a quality movie? I could only wish that every movie entering the multiplex is well-made, well-written, and terrifically acted, and when a good movie that is intelligent (with just the most palatable hint of nuance) is enjoyed by everyone, I’m conflicted. Of course, the part of me that enjoys the comraderie of a group movie watching experience is having a blast… but the positive experience at some level amounts to mere escapism, mere entertainment, rather than the viewing of a challenging dynamic art form, something that encourages me to question not only what I’m seeing, but the deeper context of why I’m seeing it .

This will be the ultimate film snob rant (even I kind of cringe myself while typing it), but I have nurtured very customized movie tastes, where the enjoyment and entertainment of a film is only one basic piece of the puzzle. To reach a higher plane of unique movie appreciation, young Grasshopper, one has to enjoy movies in an almost iconoclastic way. Some movies aren’t perfect or even made with very high quality, but they aren’t a waste of time because they have a bold vision. They might involve concepts or characters so bizarre that imagining what these film elements might thereotically do off the screen is half the fun. They also might be tightly bounded by the limitations of a specific genre, where the inventiveness comes from the filmmaker’s expectations of what a particular audience comes to their films to see. Or they could have developed an audience long after their initial release periods, as geeks or weirdos with enough social connections and communication channels build up a following for forgotten movies and make these films their own strict measuring stick of appropriate cultural tastes.

There is plenty of room for these film fans in popular movies, but you almost have to leave your bizarre personality and unique tastes at the door when viewing a perfect crowd-pleaser. The only remaining group that could lay claim to being uniquely qualified to offer respectful but critical praise of The Dark Knight are likely to be the hardcore contingent of comic book obsessives who have their own unique quirks and understandings of the source material, and who will be the first to point that something doesn’t feel right in the cinematic versions of these characters. For this gang of movie watchers, there’s a standard to judge a movie in a singular straightforward way (for example, whether it was fun to watch), but there is also a multitude of judgments based on the alternative background of this group, or cult, of comic book aficionados that come to these popcorn movies with particular contexts to base their opinions on what they watch.

Which brings me to a discussion of cult movies. Cult movies are by definition never mainstream successes. What I think defines the blurry category of cult movies for me the most is how the overarching concept of the film, as well as the mysterious motivations of the filmmakers, dominate over the varying levels of quality of the film’s execution. Cinematic inventiveness, due to budget restrictions or director eccentricities, can come from the bizarre creativity seen on the screen during a cult movie showing, but also from comprehending the background that might have led to the movie being made in the first place.

One director that I’m sure has opened up myself and a whole generation of filmwatchers to cult movies is Quentin Tarantino. Of course his movies are so well-written and exciting on their own, but he also throws in so many references to the cool cult movies he watched growing up that you need a background manual of film history (and dozens of film reviews) to understand exactly what he’s trying to do on screen, and what could possibly be the point of his eccentricities. One minor example is in Kill Bill, where until the end of the second part of the saga, Uma Thurman’s main character’s name is bleeped out whenever it is spoken out loud. Either before or after I saw these movies, I read somewhere that the particular quirk of bleeping out the character’s name was something used in a single art-house movie from the 60s or 70s. It’s not used enough to be a distraction, but it’s also something that might not be necessary, especially to a film audience that wouldn’t understand why the director did that and wouldn’t know where to find out why he decided to use that device. Some film critics didn’t understand this aspect of Kill Bill either, as I remember a reviewer, declaring Kill Bill Vol. 2 the worst movie of the year as the work of a ‘self-masturbatory’ filmmaker. It was definitely a crude phrase when it comes to trashing a director, bringing to mind a view that this was something self-centered and disgusting, that served only the pleasure of the creator, and wasn’t worth watching.

I’m not sure Kill Bill is a cult movie, in the sense that Tarantino-esque self-referential style is becoming more of a common trope in a lot of pop culture. But his style came from that cult movie fan environment that helped define his tastes and the way he wanted to tell a story. By throwing in an artful but in many respects unnecessary reference in the form of that bleeped name, he provided a knowing wink to the small group that knew what he was referencing as a way to give them something to enjoy that all those strangers, those ‘other’ movie-goers, in the rows in front and behind them wouldn’t understand.

And there’s always a little bit of arrogance in liking these bizarre and obscure movies. Why do I have the open-mindedness to enjoy a cult movie even though it does not feel like perfectly good but ‘normal’ movie, I could ask myself, and why do the bizarre aspects of the characters and plot feel acceptable in this movie, but not another movie more accepted by the general public? And finally, what’s wrong (or right) about a movie-going public that would relegate this movie to success only through a cult following?

Battle Royale was a movie discovery aided by a very modern method. In fact, thanks to the ability to access tons of cultural products online (or at least being able to know about their availability), the whole concept of a cult movie is possibly changing, as word can spread about an obscure cinematic treasure across the globe, while Netflix can give you access to any DVD officially released in the U.S. I was made aware of Battle Royale through the ongoing film review series on Onion’s AV Club called the New Cult Canon. Every movie discussed in this section looks pretty fascinating, and it’s discussed in the context of identifying a new generation of movies that have the right ingredients to be identified as cult, even if the B-movie theaters that screened cult films have mostly shuttered.

Battle Royale is a Japanese movie taking place in a dystopian future where a class of ninth-graders are randomly selected each year to be kidnapped and imprisoned on a remote island. The class must fight eachother to the death until one remaining class member is alive. In order to ensure that one person remains alive, each student is equipped with a remote-controlled collar that will explode after a period of a few days, if there are any more students that are still alive. The administrator of the island Battle, a former teacher of this class, is also allowed to designate 'Danger Zones' every few hours, where the collars will automatically explode if any of the students remain in these areas. This is meant to keep the teenagers moving throughout the island. Each student is then given a ‘survival pack’ consisting of some provisions and maps of the zones, along with a single ‘weapon’ ranging from a pot lid to a machine gun to a GPS thingie showing the location of each classmate. So that’s the set-up, a convoluted system of rules designed for a tragic and brutal conclusion, and I was hooked. How could this NOT be incredibly entertaining? Just explaining it gives me thrills. Never has an original concept so much had me hooked. In addition, while it’s easily available now through Netflix, the limited distribution of this foreign movie for many years added to its legendary cult status. I can’t imagine the cult movie fan, reading about this movie like I have, and then being only able to see it several years later or through very limited screenings. Obscure movie access definitely has changed.

But I don’t think my excitement for this movie occurred in a complete vacuum. In fact, cult movies, like comic book movies, generate some excitement because they are derived from other cultural sources. Battle Royale itself was derived from a Japanese comic book, and I expected a lot of excitement in viewing a violent live-action Anime movie with the bizarre spectacle of actual young actors blowing eachother away. Combine that with the knowledge of the weird Asian horror cinema that has emerged in recent years to expect even more dark but artistic elements. Finally, my approach also came from the respect to glorified violence exemplified by Tarantino in some of the defining movies of my generation. Particularly in Kill Bill, but in his other movies as well, there is a very rigid structure and rules set for the characters’ escapades, it’s just through the bending of time and narrative where we don’t know exactly how the violent path of retribution will conclude. Battle Royale takes these rules and lack of apprehension about movie violence to the top tier. We know the brutal rules of the game and the consequences for not following them, we know whose involved and the character’s general motiviations, now how will the film proceed? Of course, I think Tarantino had all these influences in mind, because he cast one of the Battle Royale actresses as the young Japanese teenage assassin GoGo in Kill Bill Vol. 1 (where she wielded a scary ball and chain weapon which my Dad told me was another obscure reference to a specific classic kung-fu movie).

So with the above screed aside, how was the movie when I finally had a chance to see it? I believe its status as a forbidden fruit of cinema might have made me anticipate a incredibly ultra-violent mind-blowing experience, unlike anything I’ve seen before. And once it arrived through Netflix, I had to pop it in out of curiosity, even though I didn’t have time to watch the whole thing on a weeknight. It took every muscle of will-power to turn it off after the opening credits, because the movie began with an epic title sequence set to one of those classic opera choruses (not Carmina Burana, but something I’ve heard in movies before). From frame one, it was not being subtle about the dark twisted menace behind the movie’s concept, and seeing that and the one opening scene showing last year’s champion escorted in a van grinning madly whetted my appetite even more.

When I finally sat down and watched it, it delivered incredibly well, but it also had some unexpected setbacks. The society that imposed this game is explained in the opening credits but not much additional background is given on how this society emerges to have the need for the Battle really make sense. There also weren’t as many epic fights as I thought there would be between many different characters, and more character studies and flashbacks than I had anticipated. I also expected more of the restrictions and rules of this game to be explored, and exploited for the sake of luscious movie violence. For example, the exploding collar device only fully operates in one bloody scene, even though the collars are a pretty central element to the movement of the movie, and a complicated condition to place on the students to ensure survival. You’ve made them remote controlled and set up these zone systems, why not have the collars beep or explode even more? Given the expectations for what the film would be (but having no idea how it could conclude effectively, the key to a suspenseful treat) the ending was also a little anti-climatic. But that could be attributed to the odd moral complexities that pop up in most of Asian cinema, a topic for another time.

Otherwise this movie was brutal, beautiful, bizarre, and creatively executed. It had the odd feeling of a dramatized gameshow, and while the social satire and commentary might be too foreign for me to completely internalize, I did feel a wide emotional reaction to these incredibly human kids, and the dilemma they faced. I think something universal about this completely surreal experience is the heightened emotional baggage of teenagers under the pressure of adolescence. I think even the most stable teenagers that were bit of outcasts were prone to some violent fantasies when their fragile emotions reacted to the world around them. This giddy movie displays how that actual violence might be carried out, and it's horrifying and fascinating to watch.

The Onion AV Club's review also talked about the corners cut regarding filming budget and a few other faults, but they clearly set those aside and appreciated the overall spirit of the movie. For cult movies, the invention of the idea behind the film is paramount. Criticizing this movie as trashy or flawed because of its weaknesses isn't appropriate because the filmmaker's primary service to the cinematic world was to make this in the first place. A Japanese filmmaker decided to make a movie where young teenagers are forced to fight each other to the death on a remote island. The movie’s concept broke several taboos and expectations I had for cult cinema and reached a certain invigorating edge that made it so Battle Royale, in my eyes couldn’t fail, unless the filmmaker actively wanted to make an awful movie. The bar is set higher, in terms of film quality and tight plot construction, for a general action movie or goofball comedy that is catering to the expectations of the casual film audience. Those movies operate in a system that does not necessarily reward creativity or intelligence, although having those attributes definitely doesn’t hurt the film’s reputation. Cult movies already start from a challenging context, either through the financial restrictions placed on the producers and/or the iconoclastic vision of the filmmakers, so they can be forgiven if some of the frivolous details don’t come across smoothly.

Battle Royale is endearing to me, because it tapped into my inner psyche for something incredibly overblown yet familiar, fed through a decade or so of artistically violent and derivative cinematic experiences. Half the fun in talking about movies like this is not only describing their qualities, but imagining how you would describe why you like them to others. The concept of Battle Royale as a movie serves as a conversation starter and an opportunity for self-reflection on one’s own warped yet creative tastes before the play button is even pressed. The fact the movie went in unexpected directions isn’t a drawback. The movie had me at “teenagers fight to the death”, and the rest was just details. Fortunately, most of the details were perfect, or piqued my curiosity for this kind of cinema even more.

Two Weeks

Delays, delays.

I promise an eloquent film reflection soon. Think of me as approaching a Kubrickian style to my film reviews. I will not reveal to you my visions until I decide it's appropriate.

I seem to managing a one movie a week routine, which won't break down my 500-disc strong Netflix Queue anytime soon.

AWAY WE GO (2009)

and

PAPRIKA (2006)