The long overdue…
…list of the things I watched in April. I know, I know – it’s extremely late and we’re one step away from June, but the April list had a few hits that I cannot not talk about it. Plus, it’s been a while since I hit more than one jackpot when it comes to movies. Let a girl bask in the glory of cinema, please and thank you.
Spoiler alert: the May list is lock and loaded with lots of good ones as well. I suppose you just have to wait (if you enjoy this as much as I do).
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John Wick 1-3
Chad Stahelski, 2014-2019 ★★★½
I don’t know why I put off watching John Wick for years. I think it’s got something to do with the hype surrounding it, and my disregard for action movies. Don’t get me wrong – I do watch action, but for the most part, I do not prioritise the genre. Most action films end up turning into background noise to me, and I guess I was skeptical at one point.
Long story short, I finally watched John Wick and pretty much enjoyed all three films. Chad Stahelski managed to turn a simple, pretty much linear and predictable plot into something really, really delicious. From excellent fight choreography to technicolour futurism that somehow reminds me of classics like Blade Runner, and Keanu Reeves shooting his way through almost everyone – John Wick is what you’d call a visual treat. Thinking back, the no-brainer script is very fitting, because all you have to do is sit back and watch Keanu Reeves be a badass. Plain and simple.
On a similar yet opposing note, I cannot wait for the first trailer of Ballerina (a John Wick spinoff starring Ana de Armas) to drop. I think I’m more excited for ballerina assassin characters than, you know, a retired agent. Give those hardcore action to Ana de Armas and save her from the hot mess that is Paloma (her character in 007: No Time To Die) please and thank you. I also cannot wait for the John Wick tv show, The Continental, because Katie McGrath is starring in it.
Blonde
Andrew Dominik, 2022
This is what blasphemous atrocity looks like. Blonde is terrible in every aspect. It’s disrespectful to Marilyn Monroe herself, and director Andrew Dominik doesn’t even bother to learn about Norma Jean. All he cared about was the illustration of a tortured Hollywood icon, further dramatising it for the sake of, what, being scandalous?
Ana de Armas as Marilyn Monroe was never an issue. It’s actually the only reason why I even watched the entire thing. And yet, I’m oozing with disgust for Blonde. It’s everything we’ve read about her without requiring Hollywood to exploit her tragedies even further. We read about them countless times, and we’re made to watch them again repeatedly.
Men can argue that Blonde is a work of fiction brought by director Dominik’s attempt to highlight the tragedy of Monroe’s life. To that I say, men can argue whatever and however they want if they look at this movie from the same gaze as the director. From my lens, I choose not to witness this pretentious, so-called biopic. The polarising feedbacks garnered in the aftermath of Blonde can never lead us to a single conclusion, however if it were up to me, I solemnly think director Dominik ultimately succumbed to Hollywood’s romanticisation of Marilyn Monroe as a sexual fantasy.
Once Upon A Time in Hollywood
Quentin Tarantino, 2019 ★★★★
Mr. Tarantino’s films are iconic for a reason – most of them for being bloody and vibrant at the same time. The exaggerated, contrasting elements of surprise in every Tarantino film are endless. Mia Wallace, for one, is one of my all-time favourites. Who doesn’t love Uma Thurman on the theatrical poster of Pulp Fiction? That is 90s art if I ever see one.
Once Upon A Time in Hollywood is no different. Audaciously classified as a comedy-drama, it’s a nostalgic reimagining of Golden Age Hollywood (1969 Los Angeles, to be precise) told from the perspective of a fading actor (Leonardo diCaprio) and his stunt double (Brad Pitt) as they navigate through the film industry. While struggling to find work, both encounter Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie, my favourite) and her husband, Roman Polanski, who Rick Dalton believes could revive his career.
Beneath this sunny, fraudulent fairy tale lies the true evil we’ve read on papers. You’d know what I’m talking about if you’re an avid fan of true crime. The people we see in this movie – they are not that fictional after all. Notoriety seems to be the it factor when it comes to 1969 LA, with Tarantino taking some artistic liberty to bring in the Manson family into picture. A dramatised inspiration and a historically inaccurate one, sure, but it still doesn’t negate the memories of the actual cause. Suddenly, Hollywood doesn’t feel so golden anymore.
Still, it all comes down to whether or not this movie is worth watching. Tarantino loves lengthy films (The Hateful Eight, anyone?) and the commitment he wants you to submit can be exhausting for some. I personally like it. It’s almost casual to an extent, but never without the good ol’ Tarantino blood-fest.
Everything Everywhere All At Once
Daniel Scheiner & Daniel Kwan, 2022 ★★★★★
You know that saying: not all heroes wear capes? That’s how I feel for this movie. All the praises and the awards – they are accurate and I will not take no for an answer, because hear me out: EEAAO is what the Marvel Cinematic Universe aspires to be, and I do not say that lightly.
Michelle Yeoh is Evelyn, also known as a stressed laundromat who wants out of the IRS audit. Looming above her is the impending divorce, the unspoken regrets and her difficult relationship with Joy, her daughter. All seem too regular when we are simply humans. Unfortunately, Jobu Tupaki seems to think that mundane responsibilities are inadequate, and so, decides to threaten the multiverse. Inadvertently, this means (like a metafiction caricature of a supermom) Evelyn has to ditch Jamie Lee Curtis at the IRS office and work with her husband, Waymond Wang (played by the amazing Ke Huy Quan), to save the multiverse.
As a fellow Chinese, it’s not an everyday occasion to witness a Hollywood release that understands what it means to be raised like Joy. Some details in EEAAO such as, for instance, Joy’s difficult relationship with Evelyn and their inability to express each other’s emotions, hits too close to home. Magically, it might even be my personal catharsis! Alas, it’s a little difficult to extract this out of my system (and pour them into words), but the multiverse will know how special this movie is for me.
PS: Waymond Wang is the one of the best characters to ever exist and no one can tell me otherwise.
Congrats to Michelle Yeoh for winning the Best Actress Oscar and Ke Huy Quan for winning Best Supporting Actor Oscar!
Kill Boksoon
Byun Sung-hun, 2023 ★
Yet another assassin flick coming right up to your doorstep, Kill Boksoon is a parenting drama moonlighting as a paid mercenary operating underground. Jeon Do-Yeon is a single mother who doesn’t quite know how to talk to her daughter (a very relatable and almost recurring theme, so it seems, in Asian households), so she tries to balance a double life between getting groceries and confronting a kill or be killed situation.
To put it mildly, Kill Boksoon barely left a mark on me. For 140 mins, I found myself quite bored midway. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not an overall garbage, but I cannot shake the mediocre script and pointless ending. I suppose that justifies my personal rating too. In fact, by the end of it, I don’t think I remember anything anymore.
Drifting Home
Hiroyasu Ishida, 2022 ★★★
Ishida tackles the concept of grief through the eyes of elementary school students who, after one big heavy rain, are set adrift in an abandoned apartment building. Together, they must find a way to cope, survive and hopefully return home to their family.
As with most Japanese animated films, Drifting Home aims to be conceptual and symbolic. Dialogues hold a certain nuance that, when peeled, hold meanings to reflect the underlying issues faced by these characters. It is through the eyes of Noppo that we finally get to see how therapeutic it is for these children to face their feelings.
At the end of the day, grief is another human emotion we need to face, even if we think we’re not prepared to confront it.
L.A. Confidential
Curtis Hanson, 1997 ★★★★
Slimy, shady L.A at its finest, here comes the good old neo-noir classic about hard boiled detectives, police corruption and murders. In 2023, L.A. Confidential is as timeless as the 50s aesthetic of Hollywood splendour. Russell Crowe, Kevin Spacey and Guy Pearce hold their big boy pants to pursue the truth from three different angles, each method tailored to fit their personalities. James Cromwell, Danny DeVito and Kim Basinger equally shine, coming in strong for more than just a fat Hollywood paycheck. Truly, no characters are wasted in this well-written script!
Side note, if you are a fan of the L.A.Noire video game like me, do yourself a favour and watch L.A.Confidential. This is what the game feels like in true cinematic form, trust.
Yurigokoro
Naoto Kumazawa, 2017 ★★★★½
At its core, Yurigokoro reminds me of Shunji Iwai’s All About Lily Chou-Chou. Both movies share a similar depressing undertone, telling a story from the perspective of a lost, wandering soul. The hazy aesthetic is a fever dream coupled with skin deep philosophical questions about whether or not humans can really change, and/or if we, no matter how fucked up, are born from a certain template or made to become one.
Tori Matsuzaka is Ryosuke, an ordinary man with an ordinary rural restaurant and a fiancee named Chie. Everything seems to be going well until he returns home to his dad (who’s diagnosed with cancer) and, in what may feel like a deus ex machina moment, stumbles upon a diary detailing a serial killer’s confession. The killer, named Misako, is the gateway to Ryosuke’s obsession. Trying to find her whereabouts while half-wondering if everything written in the diary is true, Ryosuke’s life suddenly doesn’t seem so mundane anymore.
Yurigokoro teleports between the past and present, shifting between two separate arcs: present times Ryosuke following his fiancee’s sudden disappearance, and past Misako in her search for yurigokoro, a made-up word hypothetically meant to define her grounding core (or in simpler terms, what makes her feel alive). The splitting narratives are then merged and intertwined through Keisuke Imamura’s hypnotising yet polarising cinematography – a darker tone full of contrasting shadows for Misako, and a soothing, somewhat therapeutic vibrancy for Ryosuke.
Undoubtedly, the greatest aspect of Yurigokoro is Yuriko Yoshitaka. Don’t get me wrong, Tori Matsuzaka and Kenichi Matsuyama are amazing actors, but it’s Yoshitaka who caught my attention from the get-go. Like Haruka Ayase in Into The White Night, Yoshitaka is one of the few Japanese actresses who knows how to balance the scale between vulnerability and venom.
Even If This Love Disappears From The World Tonight
Takahiro Miki, 2022
A bittersweet Japanese drama/romance between a girl with anterograde amnesia and a boy who made a false confession to free himself from the nagging bullies, this movie oozes familiarity if you are a fan of Japanese cinema like I do. From films like Let Me Eat Your Pancreas1 and Love Me, Love Me Not, Even If This Love… may feel like another nostalgia-inducing rollercoaster ride of emotions. But, it is here where the underlying message and director Miki’s execution outsmart the cliche. I was once again reminded by the power of memories, and how our bones keep them as mementos written with permanent ink even if our head may lose a piece or two from time to time.
Shunsuke Michieda and Riko Fukumoto play their characters beautifully. Innocent, delicate and adorable, every unfolding scene is a visual treat. A huge credit to cinematographer Hiro’o Yanagida (who also does Let Me Eat Your Pancreas) for making even the saddest part beautiful. Likewise, a big thank you to Kotone Furukawa’s performance as best friend Izumi Wataya – a character that, in my opinion, represents us, the audience as we brace ourselves for the ending.
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1
Yes, it’s a weird title. But it’s an idiom of some sort, and trust me, it’s a drama/romance film (not a horror). If you’re curious, here’s what it means.
