Audition

To call Audition a straight Thriller would probably do it a disservice. In many ways, it follows the basic plot archetypes of the fidelity thrillers such as ‘Basic Instinct’. That is to say, that it plays on the fear of early relationships, that gnawing uncertainty as you slowly get to know someone. Nevertheless, in many ways Audition breaks out of that genre easily. Namely because it only really becomes a thriller in the third act.

Indeed if anything, the first two acts of audition play like the social love stories that sprang out of Japan in the late 90s. Using frosty relationships as an allergy for an increasingly isolated and introverted society. However while the first and second act are wistful ruminations on life and romance the third act is a kick to the side of the head that few can be prepared for…

Ryo Ishibashi plays Shigeharu Aoyama a widowed Japanese man living with his son after his wife’s death from an unknown illness. When he mentions to a friend that his son saying he should meet somebody else an idea is hatched that is cold, calculated, ruthless and extremely human. Using a reformatted script from a previous production Shigeharu and his friend set up an audition for a fake movie. The sole intent of this being to find Shigeharu a new partner without the ordeal of actually meeting people in a normal setting.

The audition attracts many applicants but Aoyama finds himself drawn to a young woman named Asami Yamazaki. Following a serendipitous coffee spillage Aoyama takes a closer look at Asami’s profile the night before the audition and finds himself rapt by her. This is largely due to several hardships she has suffered in her life, namely an accident that forced her to quit her dream of being a professional dancer.

The following day Aoyama seems fairly disinterested as a bevy of talent parades in front of him. He does not speak to any of the applicants or really react to what they say or do. Indeed, at several times he quite pointedly checks the register to ascertain when Asami is going to do her Audition. Despite his friend’s urge to view all the girls equally, it is clear that something about Asami has struck a deep cord with Aoyama.

Unlike other interviews where he was silent and unresponsive, he actively takes part in Asami’s interview. He asks her several questions and seems almost in awe of her, a point hammered home by his praise of her strength following her accident. After the interview, Aoyama receives a call from his friend saying that Asami’s reference does not check out completely. Her referee, a record executive, has been missing for months. Aoyama merely shrugs off the implications. However, this information does stop him from calling her for a while. When he finally does, give in Miike gives us the first and only clue to what is lying ahead. Asami back arched in an inhuman manner over her phone, smiles coldly and menacingly as Aoyama finally phones her. The sound of the phone prompts the contents of a mysterious burlap sack to move with the most disturbing sound affect imaginable.

A few dates follow and over the course of these Aoyama grows ever fonder of Asami but still bends the truth when he his broached on the subject of the audition. After these dates, the fledgling couple retreat to a seaside shack and following a night together things take a turn for the worst. It is here where the narrative becomes hard to explain as due to circumstances explained later the third act of audition is played out almost like a surrealist dream.

What follows these initial scenes, which are tender and gentle and understated, is a descent into a hell of one man’s making. A glimpse into a mind where all the fears of getting to know a new person are played out in their most outlandish forms. Aoyama unable to find Asami when he awakes meets her stepfather who turns out to be a wheelchair bound pervert with a fondness for seared flesh, played with usual relish by regular Miike collaborator Renji Ishibashi. Having already displaced the serene narrative of the film with scenes of a young Asami having her thighs seared with hot sticks Miike slowly starts to ease on the tension with a visit to the bar where Asami works several days a week.

At the bar where Asami is supposed to work Aoyama is confronted with the news that it has been vacant for months. The reason for the vacancy being the sudden and brutal murder of the owner. What happens next is once again hard to explain. Having arrived home Aoyama finds himself drugged and falls into a bizarre dream world. His earlier dates with Asami are played again, images of Asami gaining vengeance against her uncle are shown, and we are offered a glimpse into the contents of the burlap sack as well as a glimpse into Aoyama’s subconscious. Finally awaking from this nightmare Aoyama finds himself about to undergo something far worse than his overactive imagination.

Completely paralysed but still able to feel sensation Aoyama is subject to horrific acts of torture. Needles are first drilled into his abdomen, Asami singing a sweetly psychotic ditty as she does so ‘kiri-kiri-kiri’, and then his face before sawing his foot off with wire. She is interrupted halfway through sawing his other foot by Aoyama’s son and just as Asami prepares to disable him we snap back to Aoyama waking up at the beachside resort Asami sleeping serenely beside him before we have a final flash back to the house where Asami fails to disable Aoyama’s son and finds herself plummeting down a stair way.

Part of the joy of Audition is the ultimate uncertainty of what is fact and what is fiction. It is my personal view that everything that follows Asami and Aoyama’s trip to the beachside resort is just a particularly violent dream. While that may seem ultimately inconclusive, it does make a skewed kind of sense. His uncertainty about a new relationship manifesting itself in a grim vision of a psychotically jealous lover determined to punish those who have wronged her. Indeed, before the unveiling of the bagman, which could be an allegory for his fears of becoming kept by a woman again, we see his mind morphing Asami into the objects of his desire and his past indiscretions.

Audition is perhaps a perfect showcase for Miike’s talent as a filmmaker. The movie is shot in a wonderful style that apes the pseudo documentary style of contemporary Japanese social dramas and puts it together with his own eye for aesthetics. An example of this would be the clash between the desolate and sparse interview sections and the sumptuously coloured date scene shots. An interesting aspect of the movie is that during the torture scene the film snaps from a dreamy soft focus style of filming to an almost polarised and deep style to showcase Asami’s particularly grusome bloodletting.

And it is grusome indeed. While you may argue that this film is really, a statement about isolationism in Japanese society there is no escaping the fact that the last half of the film is a demonstration in pure voyeuristic delight. The scenes of torture are both uncompromisingly hideous, Aoyama desperately trying to move his prone hand is almost heartbreaking, and darkly hilarious, the cold mannered way that Asami dispenses of a severed foot and her chilling fun suggest an uncomfortable humour in these scenes.

10/10

One Armed Boxer vs. The Master of the Flying Guillotine

There is something refreshingly awesome about a film that starts with a blind monk practicing kung fu, decapitating chickens, and exploding his house after receiving a brail message, by carrier, informing him of his student’s death.

Such is the start of Jimmy Wang Yu’s One Armed Boxer vs. The Master of the Flying Guillotine. A sequel to the largely forgettable 1971 movie ‘One Armed Boxer’ this 1975 film is probably the best film that Wang Yu would make even surpassing 1976’s One Armed Swordsman in terms of sheer ingenuity and style.

Set in a time of political turmoil an imperial decree has created a sect of rebel hunters who use a peculiar weapon which is essentially a hat on a leash with teeth. This unique weapon when thrown lands around the victims head and cuts it off at the neck.

The blind monk, Fu Sing Wu Chi, introduced at the start is one such rebel hunter and is out to avenge his fallen students who died at the hand of famed one armed boxer Yu Tieh-lun. Unfortunately for the armless populace the monk doesn’t have a name and as such is inclined to kill anyone missing an arm.

Such a simple framework would undoubtedly be enough for a solid Kung Fu movie, but it’s only through the introduction of a second element that the film manages to make even the most violence obsessed a little bit kung fu fatigued.

Amidst all of the decapitations a martial arts tournament is taking place which pretty much dominates the 2nd act of the movie and is essentially eight or so fights with little or no gap between them. As well as showcasing a plethora of martial arts styles and weapons, including some pretty nice Naginata work and monkey kung fu, it sets up the fodder for later on in the movie.

Amongst the entrants are a Thai knife fighter, an Indian fakir who can extend his arms, and a Japanese karate expert with the name ‘Wins Without A Knife’ who uses tonfa batons and rather bizarrely a knife.

These characters serve as ‘sub-bosses’ in the movie, forcing the one armed boxer to ply his trade while withholding the confrontation between him and the monk to the last act.

Jimmy Wang Yu not only directs but stars as The One Armed Boxer and in my view he is probably the one weak link in the movie. His prowess as a martial artist is visibly lacking and despite some nice techniques and some great editing it is very apparent that his lack of skill, in comparison to the rest of the crew, is being worked around.

The real star of the film is of course the Monk played with chilling ruthlessness by Kang Kam. The monk is essentially the kung fu variant of the terminator, unstoppable in his quest and unbeatable with his guillotine.

However despite Wang Yu’s fighting chops his invention is top notch as is his direction. The major fights are not your typical kinds of fight, again probably to accommodate his less than graceful movements, and are largely about invention than lightning quick moves. Key examples are a fight in what is essentially a room sized oven and the final battle in a coffin shop complete with spring loaded hatchets.

His talents as a director are far more impressive and even on horrible versions of the movie you can still see his flair for set design and iconic imagery. Special mention must be made to the music, in particular the monk’s theme which is both iconic and wonderfully fitting.

I’d call this film a guilty pleasure, but I think it transcends that to be honest. The film is really well made, the fights are fun to watch, and the characterisation warrants at least a little respect.

8/10