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system\nclassify the user's feedback by responding with only a single number: 1 for positive or 0 for negative
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user\nI'm no slouch at finding \"redeeming social value.\" Whatever book or film people want to suppress, from Huck Finn/Heart of Darkness to, I don't know, Deep Throat or the latest hostage beheading, I sincerely wish they wouldn't. I'm not a lover of porn or of violence-as-entertainment, but what of them I chance upon I tend to see camera angles, cuts, pans, lighting, rhythms, nearly to the exclusion of fear or titillation, sometimes even missing filmmakers' or actors' intent. Even from footage that reasonable people may argue should never have existed, I always imagine there's something to learn. I wonder more at how a film does than about what it does. Maybe that's wrong of me. Wiser but harder than deconstructing unpleasant cinema, might be to see cuts, pans, etc., at one with and inseparable from no matter what content. I ask myself what horror filmmakers and church architects have in common. Add in political filmmakers, fascist and not. All manipulate with light, space, and sound in order to alter perception and mood. How different are their goals? How different are the goals of those who film real atrocities for use as propaganda?
When the original All Night Long (ANL) trilogy appeared on my shelf, I left it unwatched for nearly year. Curiosity had made me buy it. I sampled a few minutes of \"1\" the day it arrived, up to the awkwardly sound-effected street corner stabbing that seems really an attack on film viewers' sensibility, found it inept but effective. I'd have to come back to it, certainly, but didn't relish the prospect. Clearly this wasn't the sublime horror of Kairo, Cure, Angel Dust, Lain, the rawer but still traditionally framed horror of the first Evil Dead Trap, the overtly political work of Koji Wakamatsu, or even the brilliant crudity of early Cronenberg.
Maybe that word \"attack\" is key. Matsumura attacks not his characters, but his viewers. I can't watch these at this point in history without thinking of both Abu Garib (some of which I think I recall was evidenced on video) and the hostage videos, but also about Godard's torturers (in Le Petit soldat?) to whom atrocity is just a job, a fraction of a person's workday. And then there's the prolonged Northern California news story whose details I barely remember but can't entirely forget because it too entails \"cinema,\" a duo of serial killers notorious, if suggestion isn't playing games with my memory, for having videotaped themselves torturing victims.
All three ANL entries are revenge cinema, vigilante exercises, but I'm attaching these notes ANL3 because it's the most ambitious and may constitute a turning point for director Matsumura. (I haven't seen the entries that followed ANL3.) Through the first two offerings, I imagined a camera fallen into the hands of one of those fringe kids from middle or grammar school who obsessively draw war scenes or other atrocities. (Or as if one of Matsumura's revenge-crazed characters had turned writer-director. Anyone watching these who hasn't seen Michael Powell's Peeping Tom would do well to see it.) But ANL3 seems to aspire to mainstream. Matsumura's protagonist grows carnivorous plants, allowing for some typically Japanese cool close-up nature shots. There's also, for the first time a Matsumura film, a traditionally erotic sequence: Kikuo's female boss sneaks up and begins to caress him while he's peeping at the love hotel's customers. Kikou finds himself unhappily sandwiched between. He's a middleman voyeur. The brief thrill comes from the layers of voyeurism. There's even a philosophical/poetic garbage sifter, a garbage voyeur who somehow makes me think of the poem repeated in Wakamatsu's not-at-all-what-it-sounds-like Go, Go, Secondtime Virgin.
I'm getting nowhere with this, and it's getting in the way of my commenting other films. Can't escape the suspicion that a few years on I'll walk into a Matsumura retrospective at my local film archive, maybe hosted by some learned character who's caught onto something I'm missing.
How much does it matter whether the director is or simply \"gets\" his lethally muddled protagonists? Does he even have to understand them? Maybe a director's job is just to spew it out, then let critics, sociologists, and the rest of us hash things out. Maybe directorial or artistic responsibility is a bogus notion.
My final struggle with this thing had me wondering what on earth a woman thinks watching these overwhelmingly male exercises. We put women through this over and over, from Star Wars to et cetera and et cetera and on and on and on and on, but is anything quite as male-skewed as the All Night Longs?
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