Louis Vuitton “Superflat Monogram” video by Takashi Murakami
In my (failed) attempt to find on the web that Murakami video starring Kirsten Dunst, I stumbled upon this very interesting short animation film he did for Louis Vuitton. I really dig the music on this.
Sidenote: I think the little girl is having one hell of a trip.
Posts tagged with Japan
Japanese ad scored by RAC
No idea what’s going there, but who cares, I find Japanese ads endlessly entertaining.
10 Plays • Download
Ryuichi Sakamoto - Chinsagu no hana
Monotonous yet beautiful and moody, from Sakamoto’s On Beauty.
Kinbaku: the art of Japanese rope bondage
Trust the Japanese to take a sexual fetish and elevate it to an art form
The Once and Future Blonde emailed me this photo, asking me not to take it personally, which I’m not. She thinks this would make a great desktop wallpaper. I do too. Incidentally, the movie this still is taken from looks awesome.
![Rashōmon (1950) by Akira KurosawaRashōmon tells the story of the rape of a woman and the murder of her husband through the widely differing accounts of four witnesses: the bandit & rapist Tajōmaru (Toshirō Mifune), the rape victim, the spirit of her murdered husband (channeled through a very spooky medium), and a woodcutter who witnessed the scene hiding behind the bushes. The story unfolds like a courtroom drama as the four characters recount their versions of the events in flashbacks. But it is also a flashback within a flashback: the accounts of the witnesses are being retold by the woodcutter and a priest to a stranger as all three wait out a rainstorm in a ruined gatehouse identified by a sign as Rashōmon.
Each of the four versions narrated by the four protagonists contradict eachother, leaving the viewer to determine which, if any, is the truth. The facts themselves do not differ, the woman was raped and the man is dead, but the motivations behind them do. Each of the three principle participants spins the story, not necessarily to cast themselves in a better light, but to show that they, their egos, were in control. The actions that took place occurred because they willed it as if each of them, in turn, were at the helm of the action.
To search for the truth in those stories is what makes this film so entertaining and engaging but is probably to miss the point for what we’re talking about here is the subjectivity and relativity of truth. When Tajomaru, the bandit, tells his story of the woman who consents to his aggressive advances, the story is true to Tajomaru [N.B: Kurosawa manages to convey the idea of the woman’s bitter consent with a simple shot of her hand crawling up the bandit’s back]. When the woman tells the story about her desire to end her husband’s maddening, loathing glare, the story is true to the woman. And when her husband’s spirit tells the story of his shame and suicide, we are looking at a dead man’s truth. Each of the characters had lied to themselves so profoundly, that their lies have become their realities.
My favourite version of the truth is that of the woodcutter: first because his is most likely to be the closest to the truth — he is after all the most neutral party (even though we find out that he too has reasons to spin the truth) — and second, because his story exposes with a great deal of humour and tragedy the bandit, the samurai and the woman for what they truly are. The duel in particular can be seen as a parody of the Japanese myth of the brave samurai, the fearless bandit and the virtuous woman. Instead, the woodcutter shows us the great bandit acting with uncertainty and almost trepidation, the virtuous woman is exposed as self-serving, manipulative and vicious, and the the noble Samurai turns out to be as dishonorable as he is a coward.
Despite Kurosawa’s cynic portrayal of human nature, the film ends with a glimmer of hope as it shows the woodcutter reaching out to help an abandonned baby. The baby does feel like an after-thought and comes into play in a somewhat contrived manner, like a last-minute addition forced upon the director by the producers in the attempt to end the movie on a redeeming and more audience-friendly note. That said, I do think the baby episode helps to reveal the full complexities of human nature. And somehow I feel it’s important that we’re left with the assurance that the priest’s faith in humankind has been restored.Highlights: the opening scene of the derelict gatehouse being battered by a storm / Mifune’s lionesque performance (wiki: “Kurosawa suggested that Mifune play the bandit like a lion. As a result, Mifune gave the wild, nearly inhuman performance that can be seen in the film” ) / the woodcutter’s tale: the comic choregraphy of the duel between the bandit and the Samurai and Machiko Kyō’s performance as she shows the woman’s true colours / Fumiko Honma’s awesome turn as the medium.Downlight: the Bolero-style score is annoying as hell.Online reviews and sources I have stolen ideas and whole sentences from: wiki, Ruthless Reviews, Dennis Schwartz’s Movie Reviews, Film School Rejects.Stream the entire movie here](http://8.media.tumblr.com/hFiUi53rXpsegk97lzW1kidAo1_400.jpg)
Rashōmon (1950) by Akira Kurosawa
Rashōmon tells the story of the rape of a woman and the murder of her husband through the widely differing accounts of four witnesses: the bandit & rapist Tajōmaru (Toshirō Mifune), the rape victim, the spirit of her murdered husband (channeled through a very spooky medium), and a woodcutter who witnessed the scene hiding behind the bushes. The story unfolds like a courtroom drama as the four characters recount their versions of the events in flashbacks. But it is also a flashback within a flashback: the accounts of the witnesses are being retold by the woodcutter and a priest to a stranger as all three wait out a rainstorm in a ruined gatehouse identified by a sign as Rashōmon.
Each of the four versions narrated by the four protagonists contradict eachother, leaving the viewer to determine which, if any, is the truth. The facts themselves do not differ, the woman was raped and the man is dead, but the motivations behind them do. Each of the three principle participants spins the story, not necessarily to cast themselves in a better light, but to show that they, their egos, were in control. The actions that took place occurred because they willed it as if each of them, in turn, were at the helm of the action.
To search for the truth in those stories is what makes this film so entertaining and engaging but is probably to miss the point for what we’re talking about here is the subjectivity and relativity of truth. When Tajomaru, the bandit, tells his story of the woman who consents to his aggressive advances, the story is true to Tajomaru [N.B: Kurosawa manages to convey the idea of the woman’s bitter consent with a simple shot of her hand crawling up the bandit’s back]. When the woman tells the story about her desire to end her husband’s maddening, loathing glare, the story is true to the woman. And when her husband’s spirit tells the story of his shame and suicide, we are looking at a dead man’s truth. Each of the characters had lied to themselves so profoundly, that their lies have become their realities.
My favourite version of the truth is that of the woodcutter: first because his is most likely to be the closest to the truth — he is after all the most neutral party (even though we find out that he too has reasons to spin the truth) — and second, because his story exposes with a great deal of humour and tragedy the bandit, the samurai and the woman for what they truly are. The duel in particular can be seen as a parody of the Japanese myth of the brave samurai, the fearless bandit and the virtuous woman. Instead, the woodcutter shows us the great bandit acting with uncertainty and almost trepidation, the virtuous woman is exposed as self-serving, manipulative and vicious, and the the noble Samurai turns out to be as dishonorable as he is a coward.
Despite Kurosawa’s cynic portrayal of human nature, the film ends with a glimmer of hope as it shows the woodcutter reaching out to help an abandonned baby. The baby does feel like an after-thought and comes into play in a somewhat contrived manner, like a last-minute addition forced upon the director by the producers in the attempt to end the movie on a redeeming and more audience-friendly note. That said, I do think the baby episode helps to reveal the full complexities of human nature. And somehow I feel it’s important that we’re left with the assurance that the priest’s faith in humankind has been restored.
Highlights: the opening scene of the derelict gatehouse being battered by a storm / Mifune’s lionesque performance (wiki: “Kurosawa suggested that Mifune play the bandit like a lion. As a result, Mifune gave the wild, nearly inhuman performance that can be seen in the film” ) / the woodcutter’s tale: the comic choregraphy of the duel between the bandit and the Samurai and Machiko Kyō’s performance as she shows the woman’s true colours / Fumiko Honma’s awesome turn as the medium.
Downlight: the Bolero-style score is annoying as hell.
Online reviews and sources I have stolen ideas and whole sentences from: wiki, Ruthless Reviews, Dennis Schwartz’s Movie Reviews, Film School Rejects.
Stream the entire movie here
Sour - Hibi no Neiro (via pgwp:betelnut:themattsmith)
This video is a lot of fun to watch.
Today’s the last day of the Royal Academy of Arts’ restrospective on woodblock print designer Utagawa Kuniyoshi. The exhibit gathered a vast amount of Kuniyohi’s important print work but was so well put together that it didn’t feel like I was hit with that all-too-familiar overwhelming sense of there’s just too much stuff to absorb in one go.
Colour woodblock printing is a fascinating print technique. Kuniyoshi is one of the print design masters of 19th century Japan and his forte was images of samurai warriors of Japan’s past. I for one have a soft spot for his very imaginative depictions of various fights to the death between a warrior and a fantastic creature.
A lot of Kuniyoshi’s most impressive prints on display were horizontal triptychs (the three-sheet format allowed more space for his action-packed designs); one of my favourites, Mongaku Shonin under the Waterfall, is a rare vertical triptych that looks quite formidable as a full-scale print but unfortunately rather crap online.
Intimacy in Tokyo
This shot looks very cinematic (the lighting and composition are fantastic) but is not staged; the photographer captured that intimate moment right when the magic happened.
Found in Curtis Christophersen’s photostream on flickr. His Tokyo-People set is quite something.
To people I know who simply can’t bring themselves to watch animes because they don’t do “fantasy” and hair waving in slo mo, I strongly recommend Tokyo Godfathers and Grave of the Fireflies. The former is a hilarious feelgood comedy about a homeless trio (an alcoholic, an ex-drag queen, and a runaway girl) in Tokyo, the latter a heartwrenching drama about two orphans trying to survive in Japan during World War II. Both are perfect examples of how sophisticated Japanese animes are in terms of storytelling: within minutes, you forget you’re actually watching a cartoon.
Sidenote1: I used to try and force anime philistines into the magical world of Miyazaki but I quickly realised that it was just too much of a leap into lala land for them. I stopped trying when I myself turned into a raging cartoon character (red in the face and fumes coming out of my ears) as I watched The Once and Future Blonde fall asleep during Spirited Away.
Sidenote2: I’d rather post the Japanese version of Tokyo Godfathers’ trailer. If anyone knows where I could get hold of it on the web, that’d be sugoi.
Greasers Geezers in Yoyogi Koen, Tokyo
Another cool Tokyo scene captured by Jonathan Hillhouse. When you enter Yoyogi park, you either see old geezers sweating off their hair grease to some old 50s rock or a gang of emo goth chicks.
Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market photographed by Jonathan Hillhouse
I thought it would take me hours to choose from thousands of amazing shots of Tokyo’s famous fish market, but I got lucky and I immediately stumbled upon this dood’s flickr account. His photos are sensational and I’ve shamelessly captured a handful to post them here.
Tsukiji Market is one of the most magical places I’ve ever visited, and having a sushi breakfast in the middle of Tsukiji market at the crack of dawn is my recommended ending to a perfect night out in Tokyo. Let alone experiencing the freshest sushi you’ll ever taste; the fish is so fresh it’s still warm.
I’m not sure where they’re at with the proposed move of the market from its current location to the Toyosu site, but it seems that there’s still a lot of resistance to it (to do with the new site standing on polluted soil), so it might not happen any time soon.
What makes the Four Seasons Hotel Tokyo at Marunouchi such a unique hotel is the mesmerizing view you get of Tokyo Station and its bullet trains from your room (just like marmite: you either love it or hate it). That and the fact that the bell boys and porters are all female, beautiful and pocket-size…watching them struggle with your luggage is slightly unnerving and yet adorable at the same time.
