Round About Midnight (1999)

Hiroyuki Sanada is a recognisable Japanese actor from Hollywood productions like The Last Samurai and John Wick 4, always giving a sense of dignity and substance to even mainstream action cinema clearly beneath his talents (Bullet Train, Mortal Kombat remake). In previous decades, there were leading roles in Japanese cinemas throughout the 1980s onwards. Round About Midnight (1999; Mayonaka made) was a discovery to me through a list of Asian movies available to watch on YouTube.

One of four movies directed by artist and illustrator Makoto Wada, the camera in Round About Midnight takes in the urban nightlife, floating from a shady deal in a multi-level car park to a late night jazz bar. The windows open to allow the camera through, which settles in to bask in Sanada as Koji, a jazz trumpet player, leading his own quintet into a version of ‘Round Midnight’ to a seated audience. When Koji takes a cigarette break before his next set at midnight, he inadvertently stumbles across two suits – played by Ittoku Kishibe (13 Assassins) and Jun Kunimura (The Wailing) – threatening the life of Hong Kong immigrant Linda (Michelle Reis from Wong Kar-wai’s Fallen Angels). As bullets fly and switch-blades are flicked, Linda and Koji run off into the night, caught in a criminal operation that has murdered a night-club accountant. The only hope for Koji and Linda to save their necks and clear their names is to find the accountant’s evidence that would expose these crooks. All throughout the night, Koji holds onto his prized trumpet, hoping that he can return to his midnight gig (a jazz legend from the US is rumoured to be in attendance). But he’s also continually torn to help Linda amidst their growing connection from strangers to kindred spirits.

Round About Midnight is a noir romance and a charming caper, which feels indebted to a sensibility from older eras of the genres. Noboru Shinoda’s cinematography captures the red glare of neon signs, amber hues of street lights and the greenish tint of wet roads. Sanada and Reis have great chemistry, and are watchable leads. Supporting characters and bit parts all have an amusing flourish or detail – using the one night structure, the film creates its own nocturnal universe, brimming with charm and bittersweet notes. Similar to One From The Heart, Round About Midnight feels like a filmmaker creating their own late night jazz city dreamscape that the audience is invited to sit in and soak up. Looser though, offering momentum and slapstick as the couple darts through streets and rooftops. Even taking a time out for a heart-to-heart and an impromptu music duet in the back of a delivery truck. And of course, there’s a great soundtrack of jazz.

This is the first film I’ve seen by Wada and he just nails the noirish tone with a comic energy, never overplayed or overheated. Am keen to see his previous film with Sanada, Kaito Ruby, which looks even more comedic. Available to watch on YouTube. Recommended.

American Harmony (2009)

As a documentary about barbershop quartet competitions, you can file American Harmony (2009) under the sub-genre of “I can’t believe it’s not a Christopher Guest movie!” I can’t say barbershop quartet is my favourite type of music, but you get all the different people devoted to the ole timey stylings, from the fans to the vocal coaches to the performers, all of whom take it very seriously indeed. A lot of the humour comes from the sense of competition and athlete-level attitude to harmonising old standards like ‘Powder Your Face With Sunshine’ or ‘When My Sugar Walks Down The Street.’ We follow two groups. There’s Max Q, the acclaimed and beloved favourites, a crew of all-stars who are driven to take the top prize after coming second for several years in a row. Then there’s OC Times, the young hotshots who believe they bring “sex appeal” to the form; when they bust out a tune together to a waitress who’s serving them, that’s an ultimate CRINGE moment. Another team, Vocal Spectrum, perform ‘I Wanna Be Like You’ from The Jungle Book in the finals and we see one of the seasoned old dogs from Max Q ruefully shake his head, “How things have changed.” My favourite scene is a passionate vocal coach advising a member of Vocal Quartet that when he momentarily closes his eyes while singing, “you shut us off” and then proceeds to use a “shadowbox” analogy about connecting to an audience (“You’ve got to pow, pow, pow..” mimes boxing). I would have never heard about American Harmony except for Tom Scharpling and Jon Wurster recommending it (one of Wurster’s character on The Best Show, Zachary Brimstead Esq, is a barbershop singer) – the closing credits bit feels like one of their ‘list’ comedy routines. Available to stream on Kanopy. Welcome to a world of gelled-tip hair and big satin suits. Very entertaining. Recommended.

The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years (1988)

When I finally watched The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years (1988), I understood clearly why director Penelope Spheeris was hired for Wayne’s World, and to understand even the head-banging culture that Wayne’s World was parodying. This was a decade where pop music was defined by metal’s popularity, from glam rock to thrash, apparently from what I’ve read becoming all encompassing across MTV and commercial radio channels. Here, the great decision by Spheeris as a documentary film-maker is to split focus between interviews with the legends of heavy metal rock – your Ozzy Osbournes, your Lemmys, your Alice Coopers, etc – and with those who intend to make it – of the multiple metal bands who are filmed performing live, Megadeth was the only name I recognised and they are held back until the very end, a clear message about the future of the genre through their focused musicianship and disregard for the image and the lifestyle associated with metal. Before that point, it’s a collection of excited fans, wannabe bands and encircling managers, everyone grabbing at the heels of a gold rush, Spinal Tap for real in the articulation of wannabe rock star egos ultimately hamstrung by lousy reality; for example, the lead singer of a band called London asking the audience to look more excited because they’re being filmed for the documentary. With its high visual quality due to its recent remastering, Spheeris and her collaborators have made sure that this is an eye-catching and colourful film, beautifully composed and framed, capturing the garish and crass nature of the scene. From what I gather, Spheeris allowed the bigger stars to co-design or set the table for their interviews, all of which is vividly memorable and telling, divided between the more charismatic and cooler artists (Ozzy cooking breakfast in a kitchen, Lemmy backlit by LA at night) and those who intentionally come off as complete sleazebags (Paul and Gene from KISS). Though nothing can top the hectic mise en scene of the film’s infamous scene, Chris Holmes of W.A.S.P completely sozzled in a swimming pool while his mother sits nearby with a stern expression on her face; truly chaotic, hilarious and despairing in equal measures. A parade of pomposity with unbridled sexism and misogyny of the era and the genre, which is only palatable through the complete ridiculousness and trashiness of it all. This is one of the funniest music documentaries of all time and initiates the on-coming death knell of metal’s hold over pop culture at that time. Available to stream on Tubi. Recommended.

The Lure (2015)

In 1980s Poland, two mermaids hear their own siren song: a fair haired boy playing an indie ballad on the shoreline. Leaving the water for the world of humans, the mermaids eventually front their very own synth pop band. Welcome to the horror-musical-fantasy world of The Lure (2015; Córki dancingu), which revolves around a nightclub where music is played to performing strippers and dancing customers; everyone – from sleazy owners, sweaty patrons and kitchen staff – bob their heads and tap their feet to the propulsive beat. Following the trajectory of The Little Mermaid, this film returns the darkness to the original fairytale as these mermaids can turn into fanged monsters happy to feed on stray humans; their presence is also casually accepted by the nightclub management as the working bar band, Figs N Dates, takes in these creatures as their back-up singers. For a cross-genre production, a lot of things have to go right for all of this weirdness to work. The music by sisters Barbara Wrońska and Zuzanna Wrońska offers catchy tunes, the special effects are effectively grotesque, and there’s style to burn in the nightclub atmosphere, a lot of which is based on the memories of director Agnieszka Smoczyńska and writer Robert Bolesto (as well as the sisters Wronska who were initially the basis for the story). Marta Mazurek and Michalina Olszańska are great as the mermaids, named Silver and Golden respectively, who eventually follow their own individual desires in this metaphor for adolescence; Silver falls in love with a human while Golden satisfies her animalistic hunger. There’s an excellent supporting cast, particularly the distinctive band mates, Kinga Preis, Jakub Giersal, and Andrzej Konopka. The first half has the giddy highs of a band biopic while the second half can’t help but lose a bit of steam with the inevitable dissolution; I also wished wish that the closing credits song was its own musical sequence for some closure. Still, The Lure is a unique, stylish and at times confronting experience; it’s like if a freaky Goldfrapp song came to life as a movie. Available to stream in the Criterion Channel. Recommended.

The Decline Of Western Civilization (1981)

I grew up as a Wayne’s World fan and always intended to explore the director Penelop Spheeris pre-Wayne’s World career, especially their trilogy of music documentaries under the banner title, The Decline Of Western Civilization. For the first film, The Decline Of Western Civilization (1981), Spheeris captures a time and place, the punk movement in Los Angeles of the late 1970s and early 1980s. I claim no knowledge about the punk scene at this time, so it was informative on that basis as it cuts together interviews with the bands, fans, promotors, critics and captures live performances from luminaries like Black Flag, Germs, Circle Jerks and X amongst others. What makes this documentary great to me (in contrast to docos now, particularly the type that might be produced by Netflix or HBO) is Spheeris’ approach. She and her crew are filming the gigs and capturing the energy of this scene; it is not a retrospective but is definitely of its moment. What also helps is Spheeris’ interview style, which is to ask questions off camera and keep the focus on her subjects. This helps to provide some critical distance that is helpful in watching it now decades later. As a director, Spheeris is open to the punk movement in a way the mainstream media at the time was not, who were probably viewing it as a public nuisance, a fad or a concern for the health and safety of the youth, so her questions are inquisitive and engaged. Yet Spheeris is not a mindless fan, and also asks some pointed questions, particularly of the aggression and violence within the scene. While an anti-authoritarian movement, the subculture documented is also wrapped up in its own sad problems with all of the sexism, racism, and homophobia on full display here. While a contemporary filmmaker might have explored these tangents further, particularly the presence of Black and Latino punks, musicians and fans, in a sub-culture that at times casually celebrates white power and Nazi paraphernalia. Still, it is a movie that vibrates with energy and power even as it leaves one feeling dejected and sad by what’s captured, despite some of the caustic performances. Definitely made me want to hear more of the Alice Bag Band! Available to stream in remastered quality on Tubi in Australia. Recommended.