I recently finished Akira Kurosawa's autobiography Something Like An Autobiography. The Chinese title is The Oil of Toads. Kurosawa probably didn't get a chance to decide how to name the foreign versions of his autobiography, but the editor' choice certainly reflect the taste of a culture. The Oil of Toads comes from a Japanese folk tale about a special kind of toad in the mountains in Japan. Those toads are uglier than the usual ones and they have a couple more legs. People catch them and put them in front of a mirror or into a glass tank. Once the toads see from the reflection how ugly they are, they sweat oil all over their body. This oil is a precious medicine used to heal burn wounds. It's said when Kurosawa looked back at his past, he felt like one of those toads, discovering all the awkwardness and unbearableness of himself and sweating oil all over, and the essence of the oil forms this book. I am not sure if the American editor is aware of this story and how Kurosawa compared himself to a fictional toad, but I do think The Oil of Toads might be a little elusive for American readers. Something Like An Autobiography is more direct, simpler, yet still retains a taste of Kurosawa's humbleness, which can be found everywhere in this book. On the notion of hunbleness, the American title and the Chinese one do agree. Personally I prefer The Oil of Toads. It's more intriguing.

I am not an expert on Kurosawa. I have only seen some of the most famous ones. Like many Chinese "cultural youth", my viewing experience of Japanese cinema started with more contemporary filmmakers such as Shunji Iwai and Takeshi Kitano. Films like Kids Return, April Story deeply marked our youthhood. While we received the very much needed sex education in western movies like 91/2 Weeks, we identified our depressed growing pains and emotions with those characters in Japanese movies. As for filmmakers like Nagisa Oshima and Akira Kurosawa that are probably considered national treasure in Japan, I labeled them as antiques from the history of civilization and shelved them for a long time before I could put my hands on them.

Luckily my entrance into Kurosawa's world was a serious one. It was in a theatre theory class for which we all needed to write a paper comparing one stylistic factor among 3 Shakespearean productions. In addition to two theatrical productions, I picked Throne of Blood, which is an adaptation of Macbeth. The stylistic factor I picked was the different portrayal of Lady Macbeth. I studied the film very closely. Although I haven't seen that many adaptation movies of Shakespearean theatre, I stronglyly agree with what's been widely believed that Throne of Blood is the best cinematic adaptation of Shakespear. It is simply one of the best filmes ever made. What amazed me the most is how Kurosawa perfectly combined the Japanese Noh theatre with a western story. Neither did the style of Noh theatre become an obstacle in delivering the story, nor did the story look awkward in a Japanese costume. The more I studied it, the more I was excited about it and the more I believed Kurosawa was a genius.

I love how Kurosawa called making a sequel for any movie is a wait-for-windfalls behavior. Of course, in Chinese it's called "waiting beside a tree for more hares to come". It's such a precise description of its nature and motive and stupidity.

Second Wajda Double Feature Night

Last thursday, it was the first double-feature screening of Andrzej Wajda's films: Pokolenie (A Generation) and Kanal (Canal). Throughout the screening I was thinking to myself: Why did I think I could possibly find Wajda's movies interesting? When Jake said they were boring, why wouldn't I believe him? Next time when someone who is capable of enjoying Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles tells me something is boring, I am gonna believe him.

A Generation

Kanal

Yesterday, it was another double-feature screening of Andrzej Wajda. Though exhausted last week, I still went. Hoping there is more to Wajda than drainy war movies, I decided not to forfeit the theatre.

The two films screened last night were Popiol i diament (Ashes and Diamonds) and Wszystko na sprzedaz (Everything for Sale). Ashes and Diamonds, with Pokolenie (A Generation) and Kanal (Canal), completed Wajda's unintended WWII triology. Ashes is my favorite among the three. Both Chris and Cassey expressed that they liked Kanal too. I could see how Kanal is a great film, but it is definitely a more demanding movie. I was not at all in the mood or at the energy level to enjoy it. As for A Generation, the most interesting thing for me is the brief appearance of Roman Polanski. He is in the second A-Generation picture above. His character is the most naughty soldier of that small underground Communist group. The way he played the character is quite playful, which is not very far from his interesting personality and experience in real life. Ashes is a more mature "Polish New Waver". There was a French New Wave, a Czech New Wave...a Polish New Wave too. Editing and cinematography were unconventional and playful, and this is especially discernible in Ashes. Fast editing delivers the result quickly enough to eliminate the process. Always ending with a strong and interesting image/perspective, it is the result that stands out, not process. Quite Godardesque.

Ashes and Diamonds

I was not very impressed with Everything for Sale. There are some really beautiful images, but the story and overal structure of the film are not strong. It's a film about filmmaking. Films about filmmaking always present a challenge to filmmakers on whether the sophisticated psychological relationships among all actors/actresses/characters can be played well. It's a test of a director's ability to handle psychoanalysis and parallel universes: filmic reality and afilmic reality. François Truffaut did well in his La Nuit américaine (Day for Night), and Robert Altman did even better in The Player. Wajda once said in an interview that he doesn't like love stories, but he's always excited about wars and killings. Obviously, Wajda is more of a alive-or-dead big picture kind of guy, intertwining multi dimensions of human beings is not his forte.

Everything for Sale

-------discussion about movie stops here-------

Seating is always the first question to be answered when we enter a theatre. For movies like Wajda's, I need to sit far from the screen so that the screen frame is within my eyesight limit and I can still enjoy the aesthetic of the film even when I am not getting all the historic background or details.

Last night after I seated myself in the very last row, a mid-age man passed me and found a seat two rows in fromt of me. I realized it's not A guy. It's THE guy. I know this guy. I used to see him all the time on #7 bus when I was living in University Village. He's Asian, possibly Chinese. He has a weird face. There's something like a big tumor sticking out on his forehead. He's short. Although he always wears a boyish jean overall, I know he's not young. I have always wondered what he does. I see him on campus a lot, but obviously he's not a student or teacher because he never shows his buckeye ID and always pays for bus fare. As frequently as he takes bus, almost daily, he never uses a pass, always pays cash. He never has anything with him, no bag of any kind. He's like this sad weird-looking puzzle to me. While I went down the memory lane, he turned around and smiled at me. I politely smiled back but immediately regretted, because he started talking to me, obviously a person who doesn't have much chance to showcase his knowledge in anything. Do you know this movie? Have you seen it before? You should pay attention to the actress. Do you know the historical background? Oh, you have to know something about the background to understand the movie. Are you an art student? What do you study? I thought you have to be an art student of some kind to... Not bothering to finish the sentence, he turned back. Throughout the one-speaker conversation, I just kept smiling and nodding politely. I said I didn't know much about the history and I told him I am not a student...any more. I didn't say "art student" and I gave it a long pause between "student" and "any more", trying to get out of this conversation yet remain honest at the same time. It worked. I knew why he stopped talking to me. He was probably thinking why someone who is ignorant in both the history and art come to see this movie? He stopped talking to me. That's all I wanted.

I felt sad for him, for why he started talking to me and why he stopped as well. His enthusiasm about a converstaion was lit in a second by a mere chance of human contact and was killed in half a second by a quick judgment. I am glad I don't look like an artist or art student. As puzzling as this guy is, I hope this is my first and last contact with him.