I Do Not Care If We Go Down In History As Barbarians (2018)

I was a fan of Romanian director Radu Jude’s Bad Luck Banging or Loony Porn, and was reading recent interviews with him about his next film doing the festival rounds. This compelled me to track down some of his earlier films, and the only one available on SBS On Demand is I Do Not Care If We Go Down In History As Barbarians (2018). The title is a quote from Romanian Minister Mihai Antonescu in reference to his approval of ethnic cleansing of Jews and Roma in Odesa during World War II; the title is even quoted directly to camera at one point as an actor recites the larger speech it’s from. Jude clearly wants to draw attention to the event, and not let it be forgotten – but his self-reflexive approach also deconstructs and playfully debates the idea of using art to make such political commentary.

The film is a contemporary satire where a film director Mariana (played by Ioana Iacob) is organising a piece of public art about the Odessa massacre sponsored by the art council. To the council organisers, it’s a military re-enactment to commemorate the soldiers, but to Mariana, the plan is to re-create the massacre of the Jews to highlight this uncomfortable war crime in the country’s past, out on a parking lot in front of the Royal Palace of Bucharest.

Similar to Bad Luck Banging, this film functions like a Godardian essay following characters as they wander through the military museum, or outside amongst the tanks and actors rehearsing, often observing discussions and debates about the theatrical production. Incorporated throughout are texts, from historical photos and films, some of which are of actual wartime atrocities, nationally produced films produced under Communist rule, and even reading out quotes from books – historical observers, philosophers, deep thinkers – referring to the events or ideas around depicting the truth. The film highlights this dark historical event to counter and critique blind nationalism, yet is also ambivalent and often critical about the impact of spectacle, and how it is received. Adding to the film’s effect is the sense of dry humour, and jokes throughout, mainly in the way characters act and react to what they are planning.

Iacob is great as the headstrong director, marching through crowds and arguing with the actors, and most engagingly the slyly laidback artistic director played by Alexandru Dabija (another great performance) who requests her to change the focus of the recreation. It’s an uneasy movie, but I found it funny and thoughtful while being unsettling and deconstructionist. While I may not have understood or known all of the references to Romanian history and politics, it feels comparable to any country where the national focus is on heroes and sacrifice, rather than owning up to state-sponsored massacres. I am keen to see Jude’s next film, and some of his earlier work. I appreciate his messy approach, bringing things together to create discussion and often using meta-techniques to distance emotional effect. Recommended.

Lone Wolf And Cub: White Heaven In Hell (1974)

The final entry of the series, Lone Wolf And Cub: White Heaven In Hell (1974) has a great opening sequence of samurai assassin Ogami Itto (Tomisaburo Wakayama) and his son Daigoro (Akihiro Tomikaway) using the baby cart as a sled through a snowy landscape, backed by musician Kunihiko Murai turning in a very funky instrumental number, reminiscent of the ‘Theme to Shaft’. As a viewer, I have reached the end of the demon path to hell that Ogami and his son walk due to the Yagyu clan – led by the ghostly one-eyed Lord Yagyu Retsudo (Minoru Oki) who killed Ogami’s wife and helped eject Ogami from his position as Shogun’s executioner. I had already heard that – spoiler – this final chapter is slightly anti-climactic.

With Ogami and his son laying waste to a hundred or so samurai and counter-assassins through the last five movies, Lord Retsudo has had enough, and sends his knife-wielding daughter Kaori (Junko Hitomi) to settle the score. When that doesn’t work out, Retsudo looks into less immediate family members, specifically his “bastard” son Hyouei (Isao Kimura) who lives in the mountains with the Tsuchigumo clan who can dig into the ground like mole people and resurrect their best warriors after burying them for forty days. White Heaven In Hell, directed by Yoshiyuki Kuroda, bears the distinction of being quite surreal and strange, bringing in elements of gothic horror and ghostly imagery throughout, marking it as an unusual, striking entry; whether it is the pointy hats of the Tsuchigumo clan, assassins hiding in cemetery walls, or their plan to corner Lone Wolf And Cub by murdering any people they come into contact with, its a pleasing weird movie. In the end, Ogami takes the fight out to the mountainous snow fields where the great climax takes place, ushering in the striking visual of a warrior horde standing in a line against the distant white with Ogami and his son in the foreground. The final battle proves to a busy time for any Japanese stunt-person who could ski, that’s for sure! This was great, even if it doesn’t properly conclude the story, and once again Wakayama is magnetic as a quiet, surly and indomitable presence. The only thing left is to watch the American recut and redub of the first two movies, Shogun Assassin, helpfully included on the Lone Wolf And Cub criterion box set. Recommended.

Lone Wolf And Cub: Baby Cart In The Land Of Demons (1973)

When wandering assassin-for-hire Ogami Itto (Tomisabura Wakayam) is asked if he would assassinate a child and their parents, he replies, “My son and I are on the Demon Path To Hell” i.e. sure thing. Ogami Itto is no joke! He and his son Daigoro (Akihiro Tomikawa) continue to travel along the roads of feudal Japan in Lone Wolf And Cub: Baby Cart In The Land Of Demons (1973), the fifth film in the samurai movie series based on the manga by Kazuo Koike and Goseki Kojima. Originating director Kenji Misumi returns to helm this chapter after being absent from the previous film, Baby Cart In Peril. The story here concerns a clan who want to rescue the imprisoned heir of their disgraceful leader and restore honour to their name – the leader of the clan has locked away and hidden his son himself, so as to install his mistress’ child in their place. This clan wants to hire assassin Ogami Itto but go about it in the most convoluted way possible: five messengers will test Ogami’s abilities and at the point of dying will reveal another part of the mission as well as a fifth of the payment. Poor unfortunate souls – they don’t last long in the face of Ogami’s particular set of skills, and eventually Ogami is tasked with killing a high priest who has a tell-all message about the clan’s situation to their enemy, none other than Yagu Retsudo (Minoru Oki), the person responsible for the death of Ogami’s wife and his wandering ronin status, and who wears an eye-patch and looks like a living ghost. Baby Cart In The Land Of Demons is violent but restrains its use of red paint blood spray in the first half, shooting the duels Ogami has with the messengers – known as “Demons” for the illustrated artwork they wear over their face – in master shots, often framed by branches, leaves or water wheels. There’s a natural, ambient vibe to the fighting for two thirds of the movie. Then there is a B-plot stretch where Daigoro gets involved with a lady pickpocket during a town festival, and once we get back to the A-plot, there’s a water-based attack where Ogami secretly cuts out the bottom of a boat like a Looney Tunes cartoon. The film ultimately earns its stripes with its climax at the clan’s residence where Ogami faces off against the deceitful clan lord and massacres anyone in his path to set things right, the spray flowing very freely. Even if not reaching the heights of the earlier entries into this series, Baby Cart In The Land Of Demons is still good (at this stage, I can safely say that all the Lone Wolf And Cub movies are good!), as always mainly on account of Wakayam’s surliness as Ogami Itto and his sense of honour even when cutting through armies of samurai. Watched on the Criterion Collection box-set; one more entry to go! Recommended.

Transit (2018)

Transit (2018) is the third film I’ve watched of German director Christian Petzold and at this point, I have to say that I’m a fan. There is something very direct about Petzold’s filmmaking style, it is not too showy or over-the-top; there’s a degree of elegance, though for some it might also be close to being prosaic. What Petzold and his collaborators have pulled off in Transit seems straight forward but is actually something of a magic trick, particularly the ways in which it could have failed or been overstated. Adapting Anna Seghers 1934 novel about refugees in hiding during German occupation of France in World War II, the specifics of people trying to escape Marseilles as the German army invades has been reasserted into a contemporary context. There is no unnecessary detail or parallel universe details here. The costuming and hairstyling at certain points may refer back to the 1940s context of the novel, but the events in the world of the film transpire in today’s world; the signifying threat being metro Police in modern day tactical gear. One inspiration I’ve read Petzold cite was Chantal Akerman’s Portrait Of A Young Girl, and telling a 1969 story within the clearly visible 1990s location shooting. Here, the plight of war and the refugee experience blurs the past and the present. All of this takes place in the background while the story is centred around its characters. Our major entry point is Georg (Franz Rogowoski) who is in hiding and relies on a support network who all live in fear with the encroaching “spring cleaning”. When Georg is tasked to deliver letters to a famous writer, Franz Wiedel, in a hotel, he discovers that the writer has killed themselves. Smuggling himself to Marseilles in the hope of obtaining a “transit” to Mexico, Georg takes the writer’s belongings and inevitably takes over his identity when an opportunity of passage due to the writer’s status presents itself. While in Marseilles, Georg’s loneliness finds himself drawn to a make-shift family unit – the wife and child of a dead comrade – who he becomes friends with, and the wandering figure of the writer’s wife, Marie (Paula Beer), unaware that the husband who she left is dead and that Georg is now using his identity. There are thematic parallels to a previous Petzold movie I’ve watched, Phoenix, and this film also takes in people’s movements and their presence against space, often in daylight. I became quite absorbed by Transit, particularly due to Rogowoski’s soulful performance in the lead, and the connection he has with Beer (they also starred as lovers in Petzold’s next film, Undine). I also responded to the use of narration by an outside observer (Matthias Brandt) and the plaintive score is provided by Stefan Will. Available to stream on Mubi and iTunes. Recommended.

Lone Wolf And Cub: Baby Cart To Hades (1972)

There’s something about Tomisaburo Wakayama’s portly stature and sullen demeanour as Ogami Itto, the wandering ronin, at the centre of the Lone Wolf And Cub series. A highly skilled and almost invincible assassin, Wakayama grounds everything with his grumpy stoicism and physicality, particularly in the face of enemy hordes and gushing blood sprays. Or in the case of Lone Wolf And Cub: Baby Cart To Hades (1972), the third entry in the series, withstanding a sequence of prolonged torture. This forms one of the main storylines in this episodic tale, where Ogami submits himself for punishment in place of a woman who has killed the consort who sold her into sex slavery; the yakuza led by Torizo (Yuko Hamada) expecting justice to be served by the woman’s punishment until Ogami, whose son has taken a liking to her, steps in to take her place. Bloodied and beaten, there’s still jobs for Ogami to be offered, paid to assassinate an enemy of Torizo’s father who has fallen from grace due to feudal political manoeuvring. One of the other plot strands is a wandering samurai, Kanbei (Go Kato), who crosses Ogami’s paths and wants a duel to satisfy the question of what is a “true samurai”. Throughout Baby Cart To Hades, there is some unpleasant grimy exploitation material including a roadside assault by bandits on a mother and her daughter, several assassins denoted by their choice of weapon (duelling hand-guns, for example), sepia-toned flashbacks of palatial intrigue, close-ups of Daigoro the baby boy gazing at a cricket in the rain or remaining impassive as his father butchers through enemy samurai, and finally, a great climax where the lone warrior and his baby cart face an assembled army in their path within a gigantic sand-pit. The third film in this series was still entertaining, despite a few moments of unpleasantness, and has a great showdown and conclusion that makes it memorable, even if it doesn’t reach the heights of the previous chapter, Baby Cart At The River Styx. I’m halfway through “the demon way to Hell”, three more movies to go on the Criterion Collection box-set. Great score by Eiken Sakurai and a jazzy, melancholic closing credits tune. Directed by Kenji Misumi who helmed the previous two entries. Recommended.