Juzo Itami’s penultimate film Supermarket Woman has all the hallmarks of a movie intentionally trying to position itself for cult classic adoration from its quirky premise to the film’s comic book-like aesthetic in terms of both its visuals as well as the comiclly clear-cut distinction of good-guys and bad-guys. Above all, Supermarket Woman feels like a film in which its visual motifs were created with the intention of selling real-world merchandise. I’d happily buy t-shirts with the logos of fictional supermarket rivals Honest Mart and Discount Demon.
The noble but failing Honest Mart is struggling against its absurdly evil rival Discount Demon, a supermarket run like a militaristic operation out of Imperial Japan (with their business meetings emitting strong Yakuza vibes). Discount Demon is the Chum Bucket to the Krusty Krab or Mondo Burger to Good Burger, thus it takes the ever-fabulous Nobuko Miyamoto as Hanako Inoue to use her womanly, housewife intuition to reinvigorate Honest Mart. Miyamoto’s impeccable comic timing both physical and verbal has a real sense of contagious enthusiasm. Much of the sheer fun within Supermarket Woman comes from the screwball comedy-like antics of Hanako and her co-workers as they try to please customers and right various wrongs, from gathering hoards of shopping carts left in the parking lot to dealing with frustrated Karens on the verge of asking for the manager. Equally as memorable is Miyamoto’s wardrobe of bright, contrasting colours. Even when she wears an informal blazer it is accompanied alongside tartan trousers and sneakers, in keeping with a character who never takes herself too seriously.
Just how accurate a reflection is Supermarket Woman of Japanese commerce in the post-bubble 1990s? It is unique to observe a wholly independent supermarket that doesn’t trade under a franchise name (something which I’ve never even seen in my own country). This is emblematic of the world Supermarket Woman inhabits, one which presents Japanese supermarkets like the Wild West with the absence of any legal regulations or government oversight. Discount Demon is determined to eliminate the competition so they can raise prices, while both outlets engage in actions such as repacking food with a new expiry date, mixing meats and passing them off as more expensive cuts and even falsely advertising imported meat as being home-breed Japanese.
The exterior and interior of Honest Mart is a world of unbridled, Americana-inspired artifice with its frequent use of checkered patterns and bright colours (in particular the film’s prominent use of pink and red) as well as a general warm and fuzzy atmosphere. To accompany this is the film’s soundtrack to consumer capitalism – stereotypically, catchy department store music by composer Toshiyuki Honda. Can any lost media sleuths track down an isolated version of the score? As far as weirdly specific film accolades go, Supermarket Woman is the 2nd best Supermarket-themed film I’ve ever seen. The top spot goes to oddly enough, another Japanese film, Mikio Naruse’s Yearning (1964). Recommend for a slightly more unorthodox double-feature experience.
Superman IV: The Quest for Peace, one of the most fascinating disasters in film history. There are bad movies which are straight-up boring, others are cringe-worthy and/or unpleasant to watch, while others fall into the category of being so bad they’re good. For this infamous production made at the madhouse that was Cannon Films, where does Christopher Reeve’s final outing as the Man Of Steel fit in among the pantheon of notorious cinematic failures?
So what is the explosive, hot-button main theme in the fourth instalment of the Superman film franchise? Well no need to fallout as you try to guess, it’s the nuclear arms race! So bear in mind this isn’t just Superman IV, no this is Superman IV: The Quest For Peace. A motion picture dealing with a topic so important that the powers at be gave the film a subtitle, whereas the previous films in the series had been given no such ovation. When listening to the DVD audio commentary for Superman IV by one of the film’s two writers, Mark Rosenthal (which I do highly recommend listening to), Rosenthal states that the plot of Superman IV stems from the idea that if God is an all-benevolent and all-powerful then why does he let bad things happen? Thus, if Superman is all-powerful, why does he allow bad things to happen? However, when thinking about this for more than a few seconds it quickly becomes apparent this notion is nonsensical as Superman is not equivalent to God. He is powerful but not all-powerful, he can’t be everywhere all at once. This shows that while one might argue Superman IV had good intentions behind it, these good intentions were seriously misguided. So why does Superman IV: The Quest For The Remaining Pieces Of Christopher Reeve’s Career choose the nuclear arms race as its main theme? Well, it’s because of Christopher Reeve himself. One of his demands when agreeing to reprise his most famous role was to have creative control over the story. When watching promotional materials for the four Reeve Superman movies, it’s clear the man did take great pride in the role of Superman and cared about the quality of the franchise. Unfortunately, the Film Actor’s Guild from Team America: World Police was in full swing back during the 80’s too, and lefty liberal Christopher Reeve made a Superman movie to act as a platform for his own politics.
The general plot of Superman IV: The Quest For The Remaining Cinematic Integrity Of The Superman Film Franchise sees the Soviet Union overtake the US in the arms race and as a response, a concerned young school boy named Jeremy (Damian McLawhorn in his only on-screen role) writes a letter to the Man Of Steel asking him to rid the world of nuclear arms “because only he can do it”. Ok, number 1, why are you taking moral guidance and advice on geopolitics from a child? Number 2, you do realise if all nuclear weapons were to suddenly disappear then the geopolitical landscape would become highly destabilised? But Number 3, how are you going to get the cooperation of the world’s governments to voluntarily give up their nuclear arsenals? It’s not like Superman is just going to walk into the United Nations and announce he going to rid the world of all nuclear weapons and have the representatives of the Earth’s nations give a huge round of applause and voice no objection whatsoever. Oh wait, that’s exactly what happens. Thus the world’s governments cooperate with Superman as they help him in this process of nuclear disarmament as Supes gathers all of the world’s nuclear missiles, places them into a giant net and then throws said net into the sun. Just how did Superman get a hold of such a net or did he make it himself? Additionally, he does realise throwing hundreds of nukes into the sun doesn’t sound like a very smart or safe idea. The first three Superman movies are full of ridiculous moments but you could gleefully suspend your disbelief at them. Superman IV: The Quest For A Plausible Premise on the other hand is so illogically constructed that it foregoes any such privilege with its moon moving, humans breathing in space, kindergarten levels of science-breaking shenanigans.
Superman IV: The Quest For A Competent Script takes no advantage of its theme of nuclear arms. There’s no political insight or analyses, no thought-provoking debate is brought up as to whether Mutually Assured Destruction is the reason why we have never had World War III. Just a simple “nukes suck” and everyone in the film’s universe agrees so why did we even have them in the first place? I have heard it argued before that Superman IV is a terrible film but it had a good message. No, Superman IV has a terrible message and the one aspect of the film which legitimately enrages me. What Superman is doing is deeply sinister as he is overriding the actions of democratically elected governments yet the film presents it as something oh-so wonderful. One of the many deleted scenes for Superman IV does feature Superman addressing this very point when he tells Jeremy “I’m going to pass the letter onto the leaders of the world, see they’re the ones, not I, who represent the people of the world”. However, the inclusion of this scene in the film would have made it less sensical as Superman just goes on to betray this principle. Betrayed! Betrayed! Betrayed! BETRAYED!
So how do you end this cinematic embodiment of what Thomas Sowell refers to as the unconstrained vision, well with one of the worst lines in film history as Superman proudly and sincerely says in a speech “There will be peace when the people of the world, want it so badly, that their governments will have no choice but to give it to them”. Oh Superman, if only life were that simple. But, it could be even worse! In the film’s deleted, extended ending, Superman once again returns to our young idealistic whip snapper Jeremy and flies him above the Earth (what is it with this movie and humans being able to survive in the vacuum of space?). Once there, he asks Jeremy what he sees so he can tell the people of Earth, to which he gives a response which sounds like a lost verse of John Lennon’s Imagine – “I can’t tell where one country begins and another one ends, there’s no borders, it’ just one world”.
Under the direction of Sidney J. Furie, for the most part, Superman IV: The Quest For A Sustainable Budget is a very bland film for one’s viewing displeasure. Scenes look very flat, the blocking is uninspired and the lighting is often poor. As one of the film’s many, many, many cost-cutting measures, Superman IV was primarily shot in Milton Keynes, a city in Buckinghamshire, England, one of many planned settlements built in the post-war era. With these architecturally contemporaneous developments often looking more like American cities than traditional British towns, Superman IV does convincingly turn merry old England into downtown USA (and humorously so by simply throwing a lone fire hydrant prop here and a hot dog wagon there) but still not in a way that does anything the elevate the bland nature of the film’s visual aesthetic. Superman IV appears to take place in an almost corporate post-apocalyptic world of sterile conference centres. The sets and locations feel very condensed and repetitive and even the offices of The Daily Planet look very generic. You can’t just throw several decals of the newspaper’s logo onto a few windows and expect that to do the job. Additionally, the film’s set design is also subject to much anatopism from subway advertising using the name New York and not the fictional Metropolis to a Daily Planet newsstand using the British-English spelling of “Favourite” over the American “Favorite”. Likewise, the film’s low-budget recreation of the United Nations has the delegate for the United Kingdom whom has a sign on his desk which reads “England”. Oh, you silly Yanks. England is not a country within itself, it is a constituent nation within The United Kingdom Of Great Britain And Northern Ireland. There is no such title as the King/Queen of England or Prime Minister of England. Stop referring to the UK as England. We understand? Ok? Comprende? Capeesh? Regardless, the use of Milton Keynes as a location in Superman IV does appear to be a bit of a claim to fame for the city, with scenes from Superman IV being recreated by various fans and locals at their original locations for the film’s 30th anniversary in 2017. The Milton Keynes Superman IV location-tour anyone?
It takes only a matter of seconds until it is apparent this production is in deep trouble as Superman IV: The Quest For A Decent SFX Team has some of the cheapest-looking opening credits for a major motion picture. At least the title screen has the classic Superman comic book typography if that’s any consolation (these movies did become more pop art as they went along and even the film’s poster is superbly drawn just like a comic book cover).To create a list of all the SFX failures of Superman IV would be a gargantuan task – repeating that same shot of Superman flying towards the screen many times, the lame small-scale recreation of The Fortress of Solitude, the obvious wireframes, the use of the famous image The Blue Marble to represent the Earth or the subway scene in which they resort to using gimmicky edits to create an action scene. Although my favourite special effects failure would have to be the shot of The Statue Of Liberty flying at a 90-degree angle through the Metropolis skyline, I can’t help but chuckle.
Superman IV: The Quest To Occupy 90 Minutes Of Run Time can also lay claim to having the most pointless scene in the history of the art form that is the motion picture. In this scene, Lois visits Clark in his apartment to which Clark says he needs to go outside and get some fresh air. The two walk onto his balcony and Clark pretends he is going to commit suicide by walking off the ledge and taking Lois with him only to then turn into Superman and recreate the romantic flying sequence from the first movie but with the ugliest rear projection you’ve ever seen. Once they return to the apartment, Superman/Clark uses the memory-erasing kiss from Superman II on Lois as if the whole thing never happened. What on under God’s green Earth was the point of that sequence? What was Clark’s motivation for doing this? Was he just bored one day and wanted to use his Superman powers to screw around with Lois for a good laugh? More significantly, why did the filmmakers decide to recreate a bastardised version of one the most magical scenes from the first film and what relevance does this scene have on the rest of the film’s plot? In the words of every wannabe late-2000’s angry YouTube movie critic, “What were they thinking?!”.
But enough negativity! In what ways does Superman IV succeed in a legitimate, unironic way? There are some brief flashes of greatness and interesting ideas within Superman IV which show a movie which could have been. For starters, the legacy cast is as great as ever. Christopher Reeve puts his all into the role of Superman with the same level of sincerity as before (“Stop! Don’t do it, the people!”), not to mention Reeve hasn’t aged a day since the first film back in 1978. The chemistry with the employees at The Daily Planet is as always a joy to watch with that old-school screwball comedy vibe (even if Marc McClure is too old at this point to be playing Jimmy Olsen). While Reeve looks amazing, sadly the same can’t be said for Margot Kidder who is looking very rough this time around. Reportedly the woman has battled many mental health issues throughout the years and sadly the effects of this do show themselves on screen. Regardless, Reeve and Kidder still have that on-screen magic, with the scene in which Lois visits Clark in his apartment while he is suffering from a terrible case of flu being the most touching in the film (interestingly, this is also the first time in the series in which we actually see Clark’s Metropolis residence).
As for new faces, Mariel Hemingway is a welcome addition to the cast and showcases her gifts as a comic actress in the role of Lacy Warfield. The relationship between Lacy and Clark has no real development although Reeve and Hemingway do share a good chemistry making their attraction believable as the bad girl meets the boy scout. I do enjoy their quintessentially 80s scene as the two slide into their lycra and do some aerobics, while the double date screwball comedy sequence is amusing but does feel a bit comically stale (should have had the Benny Hill theme thrown in for good measure). A scene was also filmed in which Clark and Lacy go to a disco of which production photos do exist but sadly it remains unknown if the footage has survived. In the role of Lacy’s father is Sam Wanamaker as the media mogul and obvious Rupert Murdoch stand-in David Warfield. Wanamaker makes Warfield an entertaining caricature with his booming voice while his takeover of The Daily Planet and his attempts to turn the paper into a sleazy, irresponsible tabloid (“We can double our circulation with a good international crises”) is one piece of social commentary which Superman IV performs in a less ham-fisted manner. This plot thread is also visualised through the character of Lacy as she gradually comes to understand the power of journalism with this transformation being illustrated by having Hemingway wear suits with successively smaller shoulder pads. Sadly, this subplot in Superman IV has a very lazy, deus ex-machina conclusion in which Perry White simply announces he has secured a loan to buy a controlling interest in the newspaper thus taking it out of the hands of Warfield. There is no set-up and pay-off leading to this conclusion, rather it just lazily comes out of left field.
Likewise, another subplot which is raised (and this one doesn’t even receive a conclusion), is Clark’s adamant desire to sell the Kent farm to an actual farmer and not to a company looking to build a shopping mall (which does foreshadow The Daily Planet’s corporate takeover). The scene on the Kent farm near the beginning of the film is one of the better and more emotional moments in the film in which they surprisingly do make the English countryside where it was filmed look like rural USA. It has a real sense of reflection for times long gone as the place is no longer used or lived in (plus the baby crib with the broken wood at the foot’s end is a nice touch). Unfortunately, the fate of the farm never comes up again during the rest of the film. Correspondingly, a scene was filmed involving Clark visiting the grave of his adoptive parents in what sounds like could have been a real emotional highlight (Mark Rosenthal does speak highly of it in the audio commentary). Production photos of this scene do exist but sadly the footage has never seen the light of day.
The other major returning cast member in Superman IV: The Quest To Make Superman III Look Decent By Comparison (Well That Is If You’re A Hater of Superman III, I’m A Fan Of It Myself Personally But Whatever) is Gene Hackman as Superman’s most famed nemesis Lex Luthor. Hackman is as enjoyably hammy and charismatic as he was in the first two Superman films and Superman IV even allows him the opportunity to portray Luthor as a Dr Frankenstein-like figure in a scene that feels like it’s straight out of a Universal monster film. Luthor’s layer is even the most dynamic in the film with its art deco design in which he spends his time dancing with a woman dressed as Marie Antoinette (you know, like you do). Luthor’s sidekick this time around is his nephew Lenny Luthor (another original character not from the comics), portrayed by Jon Cryer. Lenny himself increases the movie’s 80’s factor to the most extreme, far out, tubular heights with his New Wave band fashion choices and California surfer dude speak. I get this character annoys many viewers but I get some laughs out of this male equivalent of a valley girl.
Aside from taking out Supes, Luthor wants to reignite the nuclear arms industry but like most aspects of Superman IV, this plot point (you guessed it!) doesn’t make any sense. The movie has already established that the entire world is in unanimous agreement with Superman in regards to him getting rid of the planet’s nuclear arsenal and the world’s governments even aided him in doing this. Thus just how is Lex Baby supposed to reintroduce nuclear arms? We can see him attempting to do so in a deleted scene in which Luthor speaks to the government of the USSR and convinces them that world peace is a capitalistic plot and then subsequently appears before the US government to claim that world peace is a communist plot. I can only speculate as to why this scene was not included in the film as it is fun to watch in isolation but in the wider context of the film it does make the people who inhabit this universe incredibly vulnerable to being easily swayed and manipulated. It’s like that scene in The Simpsons in which Skinner and Krabappel are each trying to convince the children’s parents on what’s more important, their children’s future or tax increases. What is included in the film is Luthor’s honest stated aim, “Nobody wants war. I just want to keep the threat alive”. Well, at least the movie has one pertinent quote concerning the military-industrial complex.
Now let’s get to the real fun part and talk about my boy, Nuclear Man! The poorly thought out and unintentionally hilarious villain in Superman IV, portrayed by Dolph Lundgren lookalike Mark Pillow in his only screen role (an actor with three IMDB acting credits and no Wikipedia page). I’m not going to lie, I love Nuclear Man. Everything about the character screams 1980s with his dripped out black and gold spandex outfit, the lightning animations that travel over his figure, the Southern California hairdo and the most tubular animation of his birth from foetus to a fully blown Adonis. Like Ivan Drago in Rocky IV, every one of his lines is memorable (“If you do not tell me, I will hurt people”, “Destroy Superman!”, “First, I have fun!”), with his booming voice (roars and all) provided by Gene Hackman himself. Due to the sheer enjoyment I get from watching this bombastic bad guy, I can forgive the fact that power-wise, Nuclear Man’s one major weakness is so easily exploitable since he loses his power when he is not in direct sunlight. Likewise, Nuclear Man also has the most glaring non-motivation in the entire film. Due to the sheer amount of material from Superman IV that ended up on the cutting room floor, in the final cut of the film Nuclear Man just randomly looks at a copy of The Daily Planet and sees a picture of Lacy (whom he has no established knowledge off) and thinks “yeah, I want some of that!” and proceeds to kidnap her. Superman tries to stop Nuclear Man and tells him “Give it up, you’ll never find her” in response to Nuclear Man asking “Where is the woman?”. How does Superman know the woman Nuclear Man is talking about? His motivation for kidnapping Lacy is explained in the film’s deleted scenes but it appears someone or something must have thought,” Let’s just skip all the character motivation mumbo jumbo and just get straight to the action scenes!”. Speaking off…
Not the crossover event I was expecting.
Superman IV offers viewers two fights between Supes and Nuclear Man, with both being very slow and mundane. The first is a world-spanning bash of unintentional hilarity as Superman essentially follows Nuclear Man, repairing all the damage he creates from plugging up a volcano in Italy with a giant rock to using his laser vision to repair The Great Wall of China (a random power that came out of nowhere but the stop-motion special effect of the repairing wall looks cool). Likewise, various international cuts of Superman IV also include a sequence in which Nuclear Man creates a tornado which Superman must eliminate, in which the special effects are actually not too shabby. The fight nonetheless concludes in the most pathetic manner, as Nuclear Man uses his fabulous, long, manicured nails to take out Supes. But never fear, as Supes gets his revenge in round 2 as they fight on the Moon in agonising slow motion- It’s so tedious to watch! The two barely even fight, they more so just push against each other – it’s like watching two geriatrics go at it. Regardless, decades on Mark Pillow himself has no embarrassment regarding the character, as evidenced by his entertaining Instagram profile in which he celebrates the bizarre cinematic creation that is Nuclear Man. However, when delving into the treasure trove of deleted scenes for Superman IV: The Quest For What Didn’t Make Into The Final Cut, arguably the most prominent aspect which didn’t make it into the final cut was another Nuclear Man (portrayed by Clive Mantle) originally created Lex Luthor (and subsequently defeated by Superman). I have no love for this Nuclear Man and I fail to see why having two, very different versions of Luthor’s creation was necessary. On top of that, the design of the character is just very unpleasant, looking like an ugly version of Billy Idol and whom bizarrely is born with a metal plate attached to his crouch (an image I’d rather burn from my mind).
The music for Superman IV is actually the one aspect in which the film entirely exceeds…well almost. The rendition of the Superman theme during the opening credits is a very weak, low-energy version, however, the rest of the score features the best original work since the first film alongside some top-notch reworking of previous music. The reason that the new material is so good, is that while he is not credited, it is written by none other than John Williams himself in his first involvement in the series since the first film (with Alexander Courage composing the score). The first of these is Lacy’s Theme (aka Someone Like You), a delightfully cheesy saxophone piece which is accompanied by some lush orchestrations which would easily fit in with a Fred Astaire dance number (the full score also includes a great variation titled the Disco Version). Likewise, Jeremy’s Theme is suitably innocent and childlike but it’s the Nuclear Man Theme which absolutely slaps with its cartoonish villainy (alongside the more epic, drawn-out rendition which is played during the first fight). It goes without saying Williams is the GOAT of film composing but Courage does a fine job reappropriating William’s earlier compositions and the film does feature some relaxing and breezy variations of the iconic Superman theme. Although If I were to pick one original highlight from Courage it would have to be the piece United Nations which is suitably grandiose (just a shame it’s used for such a ridiculous scene).
Superman IV: The Quest For the Non-Existent Box Office would be the last time Christopher Reeve would dawn the red cape and blue spandex of Superman (Superman V: The Quest For Embryonic Stem Cell Research would never see the light of day). Yet despite everything that is wrong with the film, I can’t bring myself to call Superman IV a film I hate. It does remain at the end of the day, a fascinating demonstration of how not to make a motion picture (why else would I have just written a 4,100-word review analysing it within an inch of its life). Superman IV can stand alongside the bad movie greats such as Batman & Robin, The Room and Troll II for its moments of unintentional hilarity and sheer quotability. Honestly, if I were given the choice between watching Superman IV and some Ikea furniture-style assembly superhero movie that Hollywood regurgitates these days, give me the former. With all said and done as I complete my journey extensively reviewing all four Christopher Reeve Superman movies, I can still find some love in my heart for Superman IV: The Quest For Peace.
Superman III, often dismissed as “the Richard Pryor Superman movie”, is a film with many highly questionable moments and bizarre decisions on the part of the filmmakers (most notably the far greater emphasis on comedy), but dam if it’s not a movie I have an immensely fun time watching. Even during the film’s pre-opening credits scene I already found myself relating to Richard Pryor’s character of August ‘Gus’ Gorman and I thought to myself “Isn’t this supposed to be a bad movie?” Ah yes, the monotonous and degrading experience of going to a jobs & benefits office and dealing with the employees who don’t want to be there and probably don’t like you as evident from their body language. The down-on-his-luck Gus then complains about his experience being employed at a fast-food restaurant and how “they expect you to learn that stuff in one day” – let’s say I’ve had some similar real-life experiences. This is later followed by another one of Gus’ relatable frustrations – having your pay undercut by taxes (“State tax, federal tax, social security tax”). I wasn’t bothered by Pryor sharing the spotlight with Superman regarding screen time as I very quickly became endeared by this regular Joe who bites off more than he can chew and finds himself in extraordinary circumstances. Gus, you are my spirit animal!
The text for the opening credits of Superman III looks like it was created using Windows Movie Maker (or whatever the equivalent was circa 1983) but I’d be lying if I didn’t say the slapstick comedy in the opening credits amuses me with its classic vaudeville-like elements (including a haphazard blind man, a pie in the face and even a clumsy mime). This opening is very intricately set up and is done by a director who understands and knows how to do physical comedy aided by a delightfully mischievous-sounding score from Ken Throne. Now you might be asking dear reader, “Even if all that is true, what is this sequence doing in a Superman film? This isn’t a Jacques Tati film”, and you would be absolutely correct in that assessment. I could try to post-hoc rationalise its inclusion, arguing that it ties in with the fact that Clark Kent is often a bumbling clutz, plus the series is light-hearted and campy as a whole. However, at the end of the day, all I can say is that it simply entertains me and makes me laugh. So please let me enjoy the one time in history in which the unique and odd combination of the Superhero genre and classic vaudeville comedy came together into one.
Not all of the comedy in Superman III is successful in my eyes. If I was to pick out the weakest scene in the entire film it would be that in which Gus explains Superman’s exploits in Columbia as the Man Of Steel disrupts the villain’s plans for economic manipulation (“But this one miserable, puissant little country, has the gall to think it can dictate the economy of an open market!”). I can understand the writers were trying to give Pryor room to express his comic chops however the scene fails on such a level and rather just comes off as a lengthy and awkward expositional monologue edited to several brief flashbacks of Superman in Columbia – why not create an action scene out of this plot point instead?. Then there’s the gag of the green man and the red man in the traffic lights fighting each other. I find the moment funny in isolation, but when viewed within the context of the film you have to ask yourself, “Didthat really just happen?”. Nowadays with smart technology, someone with the know-how could actually programme such a thing to happen, so perhaps the gag was ahead of its time after all.
Amongst the comedy which does succeed, I do enjoy the gags which use Superman’s powers for comedic effect such as Evil Superman straightening of the Leaning Tower of Pisa or the blowing out of the Olympic Torch just as it reaches its final destination. However, If I was to pick a comic highlight of the film, it would have to be the sequence in which Gus breaks into the Webscoe offices in Smallville, with all the drunken antics and the improvised use of a passed out inebriated body of a security guard to turn on a computer which requires “both keys at the same time” to activate (a very Mr. Bean-like scenario) – plus the sight of Pryor in a tweed suit and an oversized cowboy hat which keeps bobbing around is a funny image in itself. Corresponding, the film also has its share of more subtle comic moments such as Gus foolishly flaunting his ill-gotten wealth by driving to work in a Ferrari to Jimmy Olsen’s incessant yammering to Clark as they ride on the bus. I also enjoy Pamela Stephenson as the Jean Harlow-like dumb blonde Lorelei who conceals her intelligence (“How can he say that pure categories have no objective meaning and transcendental logic? What about synthetic unity?”). Then there’s the other brand of comic moments in Superman III, those which I can’t quite determine if they were intentionally supposed to be funny or not, such as the bizarre sight of the unshaven Evil Superman in a bar drinking as he flicks peanuts to smash glass bottles. Regardless, moments like this are now a goldmine for internet memes galore.
Third time’s the charm and Christopher Reeve finally gets top-billed in his own series. Superman III is Reeve’s finest performance as the Man of Steel as he has the task of portraying three different personalities in one film – Clark Kent, Superman and Evil Superman (which he has been retroactively referred to as the persona is never actually given a name in the movie). While these are all persona variations of the same character, it does show Reeve held the same ability alongside the likes of Peter Sellers or Eddie Murphy to play multiple characters in the same film and even interact with each other in the same scene. How one man can look so vastly different from three versions of the same character? Reeve even showcases his physical acting abilities to be on par with the greatest silent film actors with the level of expression he can convey through body language and facial expressions (just look how tightly the skin is pulled back around Reeve’s neck as he shouts “Come on!” during the junkyard fight). Moreover, as with Superman II, one of the elements of the movie I found myself enjoying most was the character relationships. I was surprised I was engaged with the relationship and dynamic with Clark’s Smallville sweetheart Lana Lang (Annette O’Toole) as much as I did with Lois Lane in the previous film. In one of my favourite moments in Superman III, Clark and Lana are cleaning up the gym together following the class reunion party as she tells him about her ambitions and how she wants to leave Smallville as Clark plays an instrumental rendition of Earth Angel on the piano (in a great combination of diegetic and non-diegetic music). At this point in the movie, I thought to myself how people can dismiss this movie as much as they do when you have brilliant, intimate moments like this which showcase performers with such marvellous chemistry. What really differentiates Clark’s relationship with Lana in contrast to his love interest in Superman II is that Lois is in love with Superman but ignores Clark, whereas Lana is in love with Clark but not so much Superman. Thus Clark is much more confident, suave and debonair with Lana, and not the bumbling clutz he is with Lois. Sadly, the status quo of the Superman universe can’t allow Clark and Lana to become a couple, but what a superb pairing they are. I do have to ask though, why are the class of 1965 having a reunion in an off-year, assuming the film is set in the year it was released (but I digress)?
Initially, the big bad of Superman III, Ross Webster (Robert Vaughn) disappointingly came off to me as a lesser Lex Luthor. However, on further viewing, I’ve really come to appreciate the Bond villain-like character and Robert Vaughn’s charismatic and suave performance as well as that of Annie Ross as Webster’s butch, somewhat comical sister Vera. Like Luthor’s underground, abandoned subway layer in the first film, Webster’s own layer is like a character in itself, with his own ski resort atop a Metropolis skyscraper and a memorable, grey, art deco design in his grand office. Additionally, I’m not the first person to point out that the reimagining of Lex Luthor in the comics starting with the Crises Of Infinite Earth series in 1986, portrayed Luthor as not the mad scientist archetype as he had been for decades until that point, but rather as an entrepreneurial head of Lexcorp – not too dissimilar to Ross Webster and his company Websco with both being complete with tall, extravagant skyscraper penthouses as a testament to their larger-than-life egos.
One of the most notable and unique aspects of Superman III is its semi-serious early screen depiction of computers and cyber-terrorism. Gus’s get-rich-quick scheme of writing a computer programme to gather up fractions of a cent remaining from other Webscoe employee’s pay cheques does have its basis in reality in a practice known as salami slicing (with this aspect of Superman III having influenced the movie Office Space as directly referenced in that film itself). However, I do use the term semi-serious as by the film’s climax, the understanding of computers in Superman III goes from having a basis in reality to becoming pure science-fiction with the super-computer designed by Gus. Just how did Gus accumulate the knowledge to design a machine which can feed itself by absorbing power from the electric grid, is able to grab people by using its wiring like a series of tentacles, can levitate people into the air and even turns Vera into a robot (I don’t think even the likes of Bill Gates are capable of creating a computer quite like this). Vera’s robotic transformation (or is she a cyborg as she appears to still have flesh skin albeit painted grey) is particularly frightening as she screams in agony during the process and then proceeds to walk like Boris Karloff in her new robotic form. I’d also be remiss if I didn’t mention, why does the villain’s view of Superman flying through the canyon looks like a video game complete with score points and those infamous Atari Pac-Man sounds? It doesn’t make sense (not to mention they do realise Superman is indestructible so why are they bothering to fire missiles at him?) but it sure is a fun sequence to watch. This entire action climax of the film is ridiculous but makes for very entertaining viewing and is topped with many memorable special effects shots from stop motion to miniatures (bringing the 80’s factor of Superman III up to 11).
I find Superman III to be the most visually and aesthetically appealing of all four Reeve films, and with Richard Lester being the only director at the helm (unlike Superman II which went through two directors), Superman III is consistent in its visual style with its use of warm, pastel colours and coupled with the picture’s use creative old-school practical effects. These films became more pop art in style as they went along, with another major unique contribution of Superman III to the series being the wholesome, small-town Americana feel with the scenes in Clark’s hometown of Smallville (ironically though filmed in High River, Alberta, Canada). Superman III is full of very comic book-like, very Superman-ey (for lack of a better term) moments such as Clark sneezing to create a bowling ball strike or Superman freezing an entire lake and then carrying it as a huge piece of ice in order to extinguish a chemical plant fire – a joyously simple and effective solution which feels like it’s taken right off the pages of a comic book. Furthermore, the TV version of Superman III contains 18 minutes of extra footage but unlike the TV versions of the first two films, the extra footage is mostly unnecessary padding for existing scenes and contains nothing that I was wishing was included in the theatrical cut. Even the Frank Oz cameo as the surgeon comes off as an awkward and unfunny attempt at shock humour while the clear indication that Evil Superman is definitely getting it on with Lorelei (whereas in the theatrical cut, this is only implied) is pushing it too far for what’s supposed to be a family film. Additionally, the opening credit sequence in this version which goes back to the traditional outer-space credits of the first two films is very dull with the repetitive use of scrolling text. This is one Superman movie in which I will stick with the theatrical version. Or if you would rather have an abridged version of Superman III, watch the infamous trailer which explains the entire main plot in 3 minutes.
An aspect of Superman III which is not often discussed is the film’s many references to indulgence and substance abuse, with Evil Superman being a potential metaphor for this. When analysing a movie for a deeper meaning like this, you can question if any such messages were intentionally incorporated by the scriptwriters. However, in Superman III, this theme is very on the nose that I can’t see it being something which the writers didn’t knowingly include. Firstly, how did Evil Superman come to be? Well by man-made kryptonite which substituted tar with an unknown substance of 0.57% after Gus Gorman choose the substance after seeing it as an ingredient on the side of a cigarette package. It’s like the film is saying smoking turned Superman evil (then again, didn’t your last movie have product placement for Marlboro Cigarettes?). Reeve plays Evil Superman in a manner in which he appears to always be intoxicated, while in pursuit of hedonistic pleasures (including getting super-laid). In general, Superman III is full of references to addictive substances including alcohol, cigarettes, coffee and fast food from the character of Brad Wilson (Gavin O’Herlihy) being in a state of near-constant inebriation to Ross Webster himself being a coffee mogul. Even Webster’s line “Every time a drunk sobers up, he’ll be drinking Webster coffee” is very on the nose. Gus himself also indulges in his newfound wealth (after previously complaining that he wants his pension money now) causing him to lose sight of his moral compass. On top of that, the film’s co-writer Leslie Newman refers to the Evil Superman as being “under the influence” in the documentary The Making Of Superman III – make of that what you will. During the film Evil Superman never kills anyone nor causes catastrophic damage or destruction (bar the oil tanker incident which is the worst action he performs) as Superman’s own inherit morality would prevent him from doing so – it makes sense that hedonism (and general trolling) would be the worst thing a corrupted Superman would do. When watching the movie through this thematic lens of indulgence and substance abuse it makes the confrontation between Clark and Evil Superman all the more compelling, speaking off…
The grand highlight of Superman III has to be the inner conflict of good and evil that is the in-head fight between Evil Superman and Clark Kent in the junkyard – never before has a fight which doesn’t actually happen been so exciting. It’s intriguing to see the Clark persona involved in combat with the juxtaposition of a dorky guy who can give and receive such a brutal beating (“I can give as good as I get”). The use of composite shots and body doubles sells the illusion of two versions of Christopher Reeve fighting each other (pre-dating Back To The Future: Part II by six years), while the junkyard environment is used to great effect with the use of conveyor belts and trash compactors. While none of Ken Throne’s original music reaches anywhere near the heights of John Williams’ work, his music for this fight is a highlight with its eerie use of synthesisers. In addition, I find the moment of Clark being crushed in the trash compactor to be scary stuff. Even though as a viewer I know he will be fine as he is Superman after all, his heavy breathing and the look of horror on his face as he is trying to escape from the machine alongside the pov shot in which he catches his last glimpse of daylight in a scenario of which a normal human would be crushed to death is very unsettling to watch. In the end, the better angels of our nature prevail as Clark defeats Evil Superman, followed by a glorious victory shot in which Clark does the iconic shirt rip and subsequently flies off as regular Superman as the John Williams theme plays is one of those triumphant movie moments that make you want to just cheer on – “Yeah, go Supes!”. I’m not ashamed to proclaim my un-ironic love for the imperfect but joyous cinematic outing that is Superman III (perhaps I can reclaim some cinephile street-cred by reviewing some pretentious, European art-house that everyone pretends to love in order to look cool and artistically enlightened). Will I be able to find any merit in Part IV of the Superman film franchise? Let us embark on the next stage of our quest…a quest for peace?
Due to the complex and troubled production behind Superman II it seems likely it would have been destined to become a disaster of a film with the switching of directors from Richard Donner to Richard Lester during the principal photography process. However, instead of turning into a Frankensteinian mess of two director’s visions stitched together into one, I consider Superman II to be the perfect Superman film. A film which improves on the original in so many ways and delivers a more emotionally satisfying film and offering two hours of pure escapist bliss. A rare instance of the perfect combination of cast and crew coming together to create something wonderful. I will also take this opportunity to say: Lester cut > Donner cut (yes, this is a hill I am willing to die on). After watching Superman II: The Richard Donner Cut I thought to myself “Thank God Donner was fired from this production and replaced with Richard Lester”. Within the Donner cut, the romance between Lois and Clark is very forced and underdeveloped; there is a lack of humour, and no exaggeration, one of the absolute worst endings I’ve ever seen – but that’s for another review.
Lester’s style for Superman II forsakes the more epic scope Richard Donner employed for the first film, instead opting for scenes in the film to more resemble the frames of a comic book – Superman II does have more of a comic book/pop-art vibe. Lester brought on cinematographer Robert Paynter for the film to evoke the colour scheme of the comics however the contrast between Lester’s new footage and that shot by Donner which still made it into the film (i.e. all of Gene Hackman’s scenes) isn’t great enough to become distracting. Superman II has a much more brisk pace than the first film, as evident by the opening scene which re-edits the Kryptonian council’s trial of Zod, Ursa and Non to that of a more frantic pace. It does create a continuity issue with the first film as Marlon Brando has been completely removed from the scene (and is absent for the entire film), however, I am able to look past this as the opening is just so darn exciting and perfectly establishes the tone for the rest of the film. With all the setting up done in the first film, Superman II is able to get straight into the thick of it with the action sequence involving terrorists at the Eiffel Tower, and creating high stakes right off the bat. Correspondingly, another individual who doesn’t return for Superman II is that of composer John Williams and thus is lacking the sounds of The London Symphony Orchestra. Rather the film is scored with a smaller orchestra led by composer Ken Throne, however, I actually don’t mind the stripped-down approach to the music and find it does work in its own way. John Williams may have written the iconic Superman theme, but I find Ken Throne’s faster rendition for the opening credits of Superman II to be the best version of the famous theme with its quicker tempo. Likewise, someone in the production must have been fond of the Average White Band song Pick Up The Pieces as not only does it appear in the film, there is a neat orchestral version of it during the second dinner scene.
While their appearance in Superman: The Movie was fleeting, Superman II finally gives us General Zod (Terrence Stamp) and his two accomplices Ursa (Sarah Douglas) and Non (Jack O’Halloran) in all their glory. Terrence Stamp as Zod is one of those performances which bring me eternal levels of respect for an actor. Every one of his beautiful hammed-up, menacing lines I could listen to all day (a posh English accent makes any on-screen villain all the more evil). Alongside Stamp’s scenery-chewing, part of what makes the trio so intriguing is the innocence of their evil. The three don’t actually seem to be unaware of the immorality of their actions, with Ursa, in particular, taking great joy in her evil misdeeds (one of the many international TV cuts of Superman II does feature a scene in which Non kills a child off-screen, although I prefer this scene’s non-inclusion in the theatrical cut as it is too dark in tone with the rest of the film). Likewise, I greatly enjoy the trio’s genuine curiosity during their time on Earth, such as when Zod is genuinely baffled by Lex Luthor’s impudence (“Why do you say this to me when you know I will kill you for it?”). Much humour is devised from this 3rd Rock From the Sun-type humour such when the trio mistake Earth’s name as planet Houston, nor would any comical/semi-comical act be complete without the dumb one, as even the Kryptonian Council denounces Non for his lack of intelligence (ouch!).
As Zod, Ursa and Non have the same strength as Superman when on Earth, their characters do harken back to the original predecessor story to Superman, Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster’s short story The Reign Of The Superman from 1933, in which an indestructible “superman” imposes tyranny on the world rather than using his powers for good. However, once Zod becomes supreme leader of Earth in Superman II, he doesn’t actually do anything. He, Ursa and Non just lounge around the Oval Office and don’t do anything while the rest of the world continues as normal. As I argued in my review of Superman: The Movie, Zod was correct to stand up to the authoritarian dystopia that was Krypton, and on Earth, he is the libertarian hero we need. I for one welcome our new Kryptonian overlords (#ZodWasRight). It is also worth noting that in the TV cut of Superman II, during the invasion of The White House, Zod takes particular umbrage at a portrait of Richard Nixon and starts frantically shooting it even though he should have no knowledge of who this man is, I guess it just rubbed him the wrong way.
Although I may put my defence of Zod on hold in favour of the film’s grand action set-piece as the son of Jor-El takes on the Kryptonian trio in a climatic fight which spawns the city of Metropolis. As combat with a villain was absent in the first film, this fight more than satisfies that desire (”Man, this is gonna be good”), with all those wonderfully kitschy special effects on display just getting better with age. The fight also includes multiple humorous uses of product placement as Superman gets thrown onto a Marlboro Cigarettes truck followed by Zod being flung into a Coca-Cola sign only a few seconds later to my great amusement. The inclusion of product placement for Marlboro Cigarettes is odd though considering early in the film there is some very subtle humour coming from Lois Lane speaking about how she is trying to stay healthy her via her intake of orange juice, all while she continues to chain smoke.
As with the first film, the scenes in The Daily Planet have that screwball comedy vibe, however, I feel the dialogue in Superman II is even wittier this time around. The recurring players in all the Christopher Reeve-era Superman films have such a great dynamic together that even in a movie as poor as Superman IV I can still enjoy their interactions. The major cast member absence of Superman II is Marlon Brando, however Susannah York as Superman/Kal-El’s mother does an effective job filling Brando’s shoes as she is commanding and stoic and like Brando, is a comforting presence in The Fortress Of Solitude. Moreover, Superman II offers further insights into the character of Lex Luthor with his desire just to be the ruler of Australia (and then later Cuba). He may be an egomaniac, but at least knows his limits; he can’t have the world but can happily make do with a continent. The TV cut of Superman II also interestingly features an interaction between Luthor and Jimmy Olson (Marc McClure), two characters that otherwise never encounter nor interact with each other at any other point in the series. I also adore how Superman refuses to look Luthor in the eye when speaking to him as he is that unamused by Luthor’s antics (probably in part since Hackman still got billed above Reeve in the opening credits). Other memorable characters from Superman II include Rocky (aka Mr Wonderful), the perfectly executed love-to-hate character, not to mention that kid from the redneck town who for some bizarre reason sounds like he’s from Victorian-era London.
The other aspect which makes Superman II so great is the romance between Lois and Clark. I was left so badly wanted to see these two get together, two down-to-earth souls who are too perfect a match for each other. Their interactions at the beginning of the film are so endearing as Lois almost mothers the clumsy and meek Clark, not to mention you can really feel the pain as Clark gets friend-zoned big time. Following Lois’ discovery that Clark is indeed Superman, Clark surrenders his powers as Superman to live as a mortal in order to be with Lois. This is followed by the two of them going all the way which I assume Clark would be unable to do as Superman as his superhuman strength would literally kill her (so am I to assume Superman gave up his powers just because he was that thirsty?). The crescendo to the Lois & Clark romance comes to ahead with easily the most emotionally powerful moment in the series, as following the restoration of Superman’s powers, the two try to comprehend continuing to professionally work together in the same vicinity despite their feelings for each other. Margot Kidder’s voice is so emotive and she has that Margaret Sullavan-like quality to her (at the film’s most intense romantic moments her tearful pleas kill me). This conflict is resolved by Clark giving Lois a memory-erasing kiss (another addition to the list of bizarre powers Superman uses once and never again alongside going back in time, repairing the Great Wall Of China with his laser eyes and the infamous cellophane S from earlier in the film). A conclusion like this could easily have come off as a cop-out but I will argue in its favour. Firstly, the manner in which he erases Lois’s mind is via the romantic gesture of a kiss is tonally consistent with the scene, and secondly, the sacrifice that is endured on the part of Clark. Lois can have her mind erased to forget the pain, but Clark is not offered that privilege, he must continue to remain stoic to carry the heartache. That said, with the status quo returned, another Superman adventure beckons, to which the beginning of the end credits to Superman II offers the viewer a tease:
During the opening credits of Superman: The Movie, in gigantic blue neon letters which dramatically zoom out towards the screen is the name of screen legend Marlon Brando, whereas the name of the man who actually plays Superman doesn’t appear until after the main title. Brando is only in the movie for less than 20 minutes in the theatrical cut (more in the extended cut and TV version). This foreshadows the imperfect and flawed nature of the Christopher Reeve Superman films however I think of them along the lines of the Japanese concept of Wabi-sabi – beauty within imperfection. With the internal disagreements that occurred with the making of these films behind the scenes, this saga ended up becoming a “choose your own adventure” anthology. Regardless, it all goes back to the year zero of 1978 and Superman: The Movie.
Christopher Reeve will forever be the GOAT live-action representation of the all-American icon that is Superman. But Superman is a boring, overpowered superhero I hear a bunch of edgy, Zack Synder-worshipping 12-year-olds say – nonsense! Superman is a tragic figure, one who saves the lives of others but is unable to enjoy his own life or be with the woman he loves. In Superman: The Movie this tragedy is showcased right off the bat as the young Clark Kent in Smallville is forced to be a lowly waterboy rather than an all-star college athlete as he is upstaged by a group of jocks and denied his childhood sweetheart Lana Lang. Unlike the creatives of today in both film and print who are embarrassed by the Superman of the past, this is the Superman who unashamedly represents truth, justice and the American way. The aspirational hero, the loveable dork, the pure-of-heart-do-gooder who saves a cat from a tree, will pull back his shirt to reveal the iconic S and dawns the bright, popping, contrasting colours of the famous suit (complete with the trunks) and all conveyed with such un-ironic sincerity (I just wish they could have held off on the Cheerios product placement during such a poignant moment). With the lighthearted nature of these films and their lack of irony, they can get away with a certain degree with their suspension of disbelief, hence on Superman’s first night, he just happens to save Lois Lane and none other than The President Of The United States from near-certain death. You know, like you do in a normal night’s work.
The transformation between Superman and his alter-ego Clark Kent really showcases just what a superb actor the late Christopher Reeve was. The infamous glasses Clark uses as a disguise which no one is able to see through is easy fodder for satirists, but there is so much more to the illusion from his complete change in attitude, posture, voice and mannerisms. Clark wears tailored baggy clothes, parts his hair to a different side, looks frail, slouches, talks in a higher octave, acts clumsy and submissive (while pretending he has no street smarts). Likewise, assuming the film is set in its contemporary period of the 1970s, this Cary Grant-like Clark still dresses as if it is 1938. It is a fantastic sight to observe Reeve playing both personas in the same uncut shot inside Lois’ apartment in which he removes the glasses and speaks in a different voice, as right in front of the viewer’s very eyes, he turns into an entirely different man. Just as impressive is the chemistry Reeve shares with a very quirky and in many ways clumsy Lois Lane played by Margot Kidder, in which the two of them turn the lengthy flying scene with Superman and Lois into pure cinema magic. The sequence and the dreamlike music by John Williams has the beauty and sensuality of an Astaire-Rodgers dance number as it perfectly capturing the intimacy between mortal and immortal (I’m sure with this scene alone the film bagged the female demographic).
Gene Hackman as real-estate madman Lex Luthor provides much of the film’s comic relief with his many flattering comments about himself (“Doesn’t it give you kind of a shudder of electricity through you to be in the same room with me?”) as well as his witty insults against the comic foil that is Otis (even Luthor’s underground layer of an abandoned subway acts like a character in itself). The film’s other great source of comedy is the scenes in The Daily Planet which have that screwball comedy, His Girl Friday vibe. There is a specific electric energy that comes from that click-clack of typewriters and phones ringing (the age before PCs and laptops) to the fast and snappy dialogue from actors who share exceptional chemistry as they walk and talk (“Remember my expose on the sex and drug orgies in the senior citizens home”). Clark himself provides an entertaining contrast as the avatar of Middle America who uses phrases like “swell” against the backdrop of his city slicker urbanites. As far as the film’s other callbacks to vintage Americana, the film plays into the 50’s nostalgia craze of the ’70s (alongside American Graffiti, Happy Days, Grease and The Lords Of The Flatbush) but the film still remains a product of the 1970s (“Say Jim, that’s a bad OUTFIT!”) tapping into the 70’s disaster movie craze with the destruction of the Hollywood sign and the inclusion of several obvious but charming miniatures (complete with scores of tiny boulders). Even the film’s iconic tagline “You’ll Believe A Man Can Fly”, speaks to its era as nothing special effects-wise had ever been accomplished in prior ages.
In the 1978 TV special on the making of Superman: The Movie, behind-the-scenes footage shows Marlon Brando reading off cue cards when filming as well as reading from the script when he is not on screen. It’s a rather sad and sorry sight (this was into the era when Brando had lost his marbles), but in the finished product, Brando delivers the goods as Superman’s/Kal-El’s father Jor-El. Brando commands the scenes on Superman’s home planet Krypton with his every word and line being delivered with such commitment and integrity. Brando proves to be a comforting presence during the scenes in the Fortress Of Solitude as well as amid his narration throughout the sequence in which the audience is treated to an assortment of galactic images. With its Shakespearean tone and grand opening fanfare music, the scenes on Krypton really provide Superman: The Movie the aura of a Hollywood epic. Well, that and one of the greatest opening credits sequences in cinema, as each member of the cast and crew has their name appear in the form of those aforementioned giant blue neon letters in space accompanied by a hair-raising “swoosh” sound effect as their credit come across the screen (even with director Richard Donner’s name at the very end, the audio gets that extra oomph). Just how did they achieve that effect without the aid of CGI, tell you what, I’m happy not knowing. Above all, what completes the opening credits is none other than the music by cinema’s greatest composer, John Williams. For the first time in the character’s history, Superman has a musical representation, in which such hope and optimism are conveyed in musical form and a theme in which the main three-note musical motif actually speaks the name of the titular superhero.
The opening scenes on Krypton also set up the big bad for the sequel Superman II, General Zod (Terrence Stamp) and his two accomplices, Non (Jack O’Halloran) and Ursa (Sarah Douglas). This opening offers a taster of the greatness which is offered in the sequel with Terrence Stamp’s legendary, scenery-chewing performance as the Kryptonian traitor (“You will bow down before me! Both you, and then one day, your heirs!”). The giant faces in the high court and their pronouncements of “guilty!” as well as that floating square known as The Phantom Zone (often spoofed in pop culture) makes for unforgettable imagery. So what exactly are the trio being tried for? It’s not explained in any depth, but the film states Zod was attempting to start a revolution on Krypton to form a new order with himself as leader. Was there any justification for their goal? Krypton does appear to be a stale, conformist, authoritarian dystopia in which everyone dresses the same and Jor-El is even instructed not to leave Krypton with his family when he believes the planet will imminently self-destruct (hmmm, #ZodWasRight).
For a film series which is full of silly, bizarre or just downright dumb moments, it’s surprising that it’s the first and most grounded of these films which contains the most controversial moment in the entire Superman film franchise. I am indeed speaking of the infamous climax of Superman: The Movie in which Supes turns back time by altering the rotation of the Earth in order to prevent the death of Lois Lane (after he was only able to stop one of the two missiles Lex Luthor had rerouted), or at least this is what is commonly perceived. Is Superman actually flying faster than the speed of light to go back in time thus the reversed rotation of the Earth is a result of Superman going back in time rather than being the method of which he goes back in time? Superman is also subsequently shown to fly in the direction of the Earth’s rotation as if he is re-correcting the direction in which the planet should rotate, or did he simply overshoot by going too far into the past and had to go slightly correct himself time-wise? But then again, how does flying anti-clockwise make him go into the past and clockwise go into the future? Putting the obvious implications of real-world science to one side, the Back To The Future: Part II levels of paradox will not only make your head spin, the movie ultimately fails to make clear what Superman is actually doing.
Other questions raised by this deus ex-machina climax include:
-Why hasn’t he used this power before or since? If Superman can use time travel to fix any problem, then it makes any conflicts in subsequent movies irrelevant.
-If he can fly that fast then why couldn’t he stop both of the missiles?
-If he went to get the other missile and then save Lois after turning back time, that means there’s another Superman somewhere stopping the one other missile from before.
-If Superman is knowingly breaking Jor-El’s command that he doesn’t interfere with human history (“It is forbidden for you to interfere with human history”) and instead taking his Earth father’s advice (“One thing I know, son, and that is you are here for a reason”), then I can understand that this is a sign that he has chosen Earth over Krypton, why does he continue to consult the elders of Krypton in subsequent movies?
That said, I by no means dislike this ending as it’s not only fun discussing the merits of such a conclusion, it still works on an emotional level as you can feel Superman’s anger, heartache and pain over his failure to save Lois as he lets out a mighty scream and ascends towards a billow of storm clouds as the booming voice of Jor-El instructs him not to interfere with human history.
The 3-hour TV version of Superman: The Movie (first broadcast in 1982 on ABC) contains an extra 37 minutes than the extended cut, which was released by Warner Bros for the first time on home video and in the film’s original aspect ratio for the film’s 40th anniversary in 2018. I did have some scepticism going into this version suspecting it would make the film too long and bloated, however, I am pleased to report this version is my definitive cut of Superman: The Movie. Please forgive me Mr. Donner that I keep preferring the unapproved versions of your Superman films (the Blu-ray contains an opening prologue stating this version does not represent the director’s vision).
So what goodies does this 3-hour long cut offer? Firstly, it offers another moment with the Phantom Zone as it whizzes past baby Superman’s pod. A nice reminder that these guys from the start of the film will come back later not to mention, any more footage of Terrence Stamp as Zod is much appreciated. In this cut, it is also revealed the little girl on the train who saw Clark running in Smallville was none-other than Lois Lane herself, to which I had the reaction of “say what?!”. The scene itself is nonsensical as since when do parents refer to their children by their full name in casual conversation? It is also a bit of a cheap shot to illicit a reaction from the audience but it did work on me so I’ll let them away with this one. It would however have been a more clever move to imply the character was Lois rather than outright stating it, creating a bit of mystery for the viewer. One fantastic addition however is that of Superman speaking to Jor-El in the Fortress Of Solitude after his first night of crime-fighting and speaking of his guilty feelings for having enjoyed the experience (“do not punish yourself you your feelings of vanity, simply learn to control them”). This scene further highlights Superman’s vulnerability and makes this characterization more human – powerful stuff!
Correspondingly, the sequence in which Superman attempts to enter Luthor’s layer but has to make his way through hoards of gun bullets and sub-zero temperatures doesn’t make sense as Luthor is aware that kryptonite is his only weakness but does prove to be a fun sequence despite this obvious plot hole. However speaking of extra scenes involving Lex, my favourite addition to the TV version would have to be that of Luthor’s babies, a collection of big cats which are never seen on screen but only heard with an amalgamation of various big cat growls. These cats strike fear into the heart of Otis as Luthor in a very sinister manner asks him “Otis, did you feed the babies?”. This scene makes Lex all the more sinister and explores the mad-scientist aspect of his character, as well as tying into an additional scene at the film’s end in which we actually discover the fate of Luthor’s accomplice Miss Teschmacher. My only complaint with this version of Superman: The Movie is the dial downed sound effects in the audio mix for the opening credits. That said, I am now waiting for restored versions TV versions of Superman II and III (and an extended cut of IV). Come on Warner Bros, chop chop!
I get that people are very sentimental towards director Richard Donner although I’ve never been a huge fan of his work. Lethal Weapon was never my scene and I don’t like The Goonies. I also really dislike The Richard Donner cut of Superman II (but more on that for another day). Regardless, personally for me Superman: The Movie is by far his best film in my estimation. However, my biggest complaint with Superman: The Movie (as solid as it is) is Superman II. The sequel does everything the first movie did but better. One thing which is lacking from the first movie is an adversary for Superman to engage in combat with (which Superman II has in plentiful supply) not to mention the sequel has much more internal character-driven conflict. With that said, the adventure continues…
Am I So Out Of Touch? No, It’s The Students Who Are Wrong
***This Review Contains Spoilers***
The Garden of Women could have come straight out of Berkeley, California in the 1960s, but no, this is Japan circa 1954 in the fictional Shorin Women’s College, Kyoto. The exact nature of the higher educational establishment in the film is unclear. It has the hallmarks of a boarding school and requires students to wear a uniform but it is not an institution for minors. On the other hand, it would appear the college may be a finishing school however the term is never used in the film. Regardless, following the film’s opening scene of students rallying together following the death of an unspecified character, the film presents a prologue stating; “The students demand academic freedom and human rights. The school wants to maintain its tradition of refinement and personal betterment. But must there be friction between the two?”. So you’re probably wondering how we got into this situation, well for that, we have to go way back…
While it would be fun to declare that Shorin Women’s College is a based and red-pilled intuition that did nuffin wrong, I will offer up the less sexy partial defense of the college against its rebelling students;
-Firstly, the students are attending the college at their own will. The institution itself is not forcing anyone to attend (as evident by a student declaring at one point “Why did I choose such a college?”).
-Secondly, it is established the college is 47 years old. It is a very arrogant attitude to join an institution and then proclaim you will change it from the inside out.
-Thirdly, the college is very front facing about its conservative morals and anti-communist stance, therefore the students should have had expectations of what they were getting into and that an establishment like this is not going to look too favourably upon books on dialectical materialism. To quote Robert Conquest; “any organization not explicitly right-wing sooner or later becomes left-wing”.
-Lastly, there is a genuine lack of stoicism among many of the students, as much of the instigation for the student’s rebellion comes from the petty rule-breaking of student Tomiko Takioka (Keiko Kishi), failing to wear proper uniform and breaking curfew.
So where does fault lie with Shorin Women’s College and in what ways do the students hold legitimate grievances? Well, the college is overly parental with its students who are legally adults, lecturing them on sex, pastimes and their social lives. Especially the college’s matron (Mieko Takamine) whom it can be argued is too involved in the lives of her students. Secondly, the college goes through the mail of the students which is highly unethical and should not be tolerated in a free society. However, the biggest issue with the college in my book is the vicious circle the institution finds itself in from receiving financial support from the family of one of its students by the name of Akiko Hayahiro (Yoshiko Kuga).
Akiko Hayahiro is the most interesting character in the picture and Kuga steals the show with her performance which becomes increasingly sinister as the movie progresses. Akiko openly claims she is a communist however other characters in the story remain doubtful of her claims and see her as a larper. Regardless this champagne socialist comes from a wealthy and connected family who spend summers at a swanky beach. A communist who comes from a privileged background? Why, I am shocked, shocked I tell you! Even the character of Toshika is dismayed at this and can’t wrap her head around it. Due to her family’s connections to the college, Akiko receives establishment protection, as, despite the college’s purported values, she is allowed to do as pleases and receives no pushback from the faculty. As a result, the uprising she helps launch in the film’s third act, the college largely has itself to blame.
Moreover, in contrast to Akkio is Yoshie Izushi. Hideko Takamine should be too old at age 30 to portray an early twenty-something student but actually plays the part convincingly. As Yoshie, Takamine portrays a character who exudes such levels of sadness and despair as she holds Silvia Sydney’s beer. She struggles with her studies, in part from her overbearing father who doesn’t want her to marry the man she loves, but also because she had to work for 3 years after high school in her father’s Kimono shop, has forgotten almost everything and is denied the request to live and study off-campus. Such a request is denied to her by the college’s matron Mayumi Gojō (Mieko Takamine, no relation to the other Takamine), aka The Shrew. The Matron does strike the balance between being strict but friendly with the sense that she does have the student’s best interest at heart. Near the film’s conclusion, it is revealed the matron has a tortured past of her own as she once had a marriage banned by her parents and a child taken away from her. However, I would argue this reveal wasn’t necessary as Mieko Takamine’s performance already gives the character many layers, this added reveal doesn’t contribute to any additional characterization.
I do love a film set in a higher education setting from the crass to the more sophisticated (with any film of this nature, I can’t help but have The Kingsmen’s cover of Louie Louie play in my head.) The filming location for the fictional Shorin College however remains a mystery (unless anyone had info I’m not privy to). That said, the film’s sets have that lived-in quality, reminiscent of a classic English boarding school with various Japanese touches (ground furniture, paper doors etc). These sets are beautifully showcased with the film’s high-contrast cinematography as well as many lengthy, intricate, Mizoguchi-style camera pans (the film even features several striking deep focus shots of Himeji Castle in the city of the same name). One of the most memorable scenes in The Garden Of Women, for both its content and aesthetic beauty, is that of Yoshie and her boyfriend walking and talking about the present as well as their uncertain futures, with the sunlight reflected in the lake behind them as the camera pans really add to the romantic nature of the scene. Yoshie also gives one of the insightful comments in the film in which she describes the two types of women who attend the college. Those who really want to study to begin a career alongside men, and those who want a diploma as part of their dowry, of whom are the majority.
Eventually, the pressure on Yoshie becomes too much and she takes her own life, causing the already brewing student rebellion to go into overdrive as we return the events from the film’s prologue. The students blame the college for Yoshie’s suicide, even though her problems existed before she attended the college. Their use of her as a martyr in their cause is highly dubious as the students themselves alienated Yoshie and drove her to tears at one point when all she wanted to do was study. The Garden Of Women does not end in a pretty manner with everyone blaming each other for Yoshie’s death and the central conflict between students and the college remaining unresolved.
A film which could be tighter in areas, The Garden Of Women is a lengthy but rewarding affair. The middle portion of the film which takes place outside the college during the winter break and deals with a number of ancillary characters could have been left on the cutting room floor, which would have improved the film’s flow. Regardless, The Garden Of Women is a thought-provoking piece of work and not a film of two-dimensional bad guys as brief descriptions of the film might indicate. It is much more nuanced than that and doesn’t frame a narrative portraying one side as villains or clearly in the wrong. 1954 is arguably the apex year of Japanese cinema, seeing the release of Seven Samurai, Godzilla, Sansho The Bailiff, as well as director Keisuke Kinoshita’s other academia-based movie of 1954, Twenty-Four Eyes. The Garden of Women is an underrated gem within a single year’s amazing output.
Wait A Minute, There Were No Scattered Clouds In Scattered Clouds!
***This Review Contains Spoilers***
The plot synopsis of Scattered Clouds (aka Two In The Shadow or its original Japanese title Midaregumo) sounded fascinating and had me asking myself, how does such a scenario play out in a believable and non-contrived manner? A man falls in love with the widow of a man whom he killed in a car accident and eventually, she falls in love with him in return. Sounds like the type of intriguing fodder for a daytime talk show, I can just imagine the Jerry Springer-style title – “I’m In Love With The Man Who Killed My Husband”. However, the closest counterpart to Scattered Clouds is Lloyd C Douglas’ 1929 novel Magnificent Obsession (itself later adapted into a 1954 film by Douglas Sirk).
There is a little-known acronym for a person who is responsible for the accidental death or injury of another known as a CADI (Caused Accidental Death Or Injury). The term has no official recognition but to date is the closest term in existence for such an individual. Mishima Shiro (Yūzō Kayama) accidentally kills another man by the name of Hiroshi Eda (Yoshio Tsuchiya) in a car accident, leaving his wife Yumiko (Yōko Aizawa) widowed. The accident itself is not portrayed on screen nor does it have any build-up, it is just announced out of nowhere 8 minutes into the film, making its impact all the more shocking and reflective of reality. Mishima is later found in court to be not guilty of negligence (lost control of his vehicle due to a burst tire) and the film shows the negative toll it takes on the CADI with his company forcing him to relocate which in turn ends his current relationship and leads to depression. At the same time, his guilt and compassion result in him paying money in monthly installments to the newly widowed Yumiko even though he has no legal obligation. That said, Mishima doesn’t have the wisest of intentions when he chooses to actually attend the funeral of the man he accidentally killed (even if it is to pay his respects), and easily gives away that he is the man responsible (keeping in mind he hasn’t been acquitted at this point). Evidently, his unwise decision-making extends to later in the film with his cringe-worthy attempt to woo Yumiko with a Tommy Wiseau-level line (“You were so cute, like a child, when I surprised you. Actually, you were amazingly sexy too”).
The tragedy of Yumiko Eda on-the-other-hand actually reminded me of George Bailey from It’s A Wonderful Life, a character whom the world is their oyster with the prospect of travelling and seeing the world, only to have it taken away and instead find themselves stuck living in a dead-end town. Before his untimely death, Yumiko and Hiroshi were set to move to Washington D.C. after he got the job as an ambassador for the company he works for. This plight of a woman who was dependent on her late husband also results in the disappearance of her unborn baby, only in the womb for three months at the time of her husband’s accident. Shortly afterwards she goes to a hospital in which all that is shown is a doctor telling her to count to seven, after which there is no mention of the baby: miscarriage, abortion, stillborn? Abortion was and still is legal in Japan if the mother meets an economic threshold of poor living conditions. Prior to this scene in the hospital, Yumiko is forced to endure dehumanizing bureaucracy following her husband’s death (not to mention there are even discussions of Hiroshi’s replacement at his own funeral) in which she is told “No additional postnatal allowance will be paid for a pregnancy under five months” – make of that that what you will.
The plot in Scattered Clouds does have some reliance on coincidence bringing the characters of Yumiko and Mishima together. In particular, Mishima is relocated by his company to the town in which Yumiko grew up and decides to move back following her husband’s death (that being Aomori in the prefecture of the same name) but does so without the contrivance getting in the way. Scattered Clouds does a remarkable job of conveying the naturalistic evolution of their relationship, going from Yumiko’s inability to even look at Mishima to the pair eventually falling in love. Much has to be commended for the chemistry of the two actors in making this transition believable but the real turning point in the relationship is when Mishima finally challenges Yumiko on the way she treats him despite all the amends he has tried to make, only then does she herself begin to feel a sense of guilt. I believe the other aspect which aids the believability of this unorthodox romance is the Florence Nightingale syndrome from when Yumiko spends the night caring for Mishima after he catches a fever. Scattered Clouds can serve as a companion piece to Mikio Naruse’s earlier film Yearning (Midareru), with both films featuring Yūzō Kayama in a highly unlikely will they/won’t they relationship.
Scattered Clouds also has an odd distinction of featuring quite a few “put-downs” of various eastern hemisphere cities. Aomori, where much of the picture takes place (not to mention filmed) is described as having people who are blunt and unfriendly as evidenced by the waitress at the café, serving coffee with no care. Then the city of Lahore in western Pakistan (from which Mishima is to be transferred) is described as an “awful place” as well as the movie claiming it is the birthplace of cholera. I can’t find any evidence this is the case so was this a misconception in Japan at the time (I suppose it doesn’t help when your city sounds like the name of a French prostitute)? To wrap things off, whether justly or unjustly, the film describes Dhaka, Laos, Saigon and Karachi as places no one wants to go.
Scattered Clouds was Mikio Naruse’s final film of a 37-year career and can go down as one of the finest directorial finales. Scattered Clouds is only Naruse’s 3rd film in colour and only work in the post-black & white era and while the picture does have a more cotemporaneous feel than had it been made a few years earlier, there is still a dreamlike quality present. I just have to enquire as to what is the meaning of the film’s title as nowhere in Scattered Clouds are scattered clouds present. Well, the original Japanese title Midaregumo actually translates to Turbulent Clouds (which are present within the film during a key scene in which Mishima comes down with a fever). I guess Scattered Clouds has a more romantic ring evoking classic melodrama.
Hit And Run (a direct translation from the film’s Japanese title Hikinige) aka Moment Of Terror, has never been released via official means in any country (home media, streaming etc), yet I was able to get hold of an unofficial physical DVD copy which was in shockingly good quality (and in English subtitles) for such an obscure film, and what a film it is! Ah the joy (and in some parts frustration) of discovering a motion picture which knocks your socks off, yet you are the only person who knows about it.
Hit And Run is Mikio Naruse’s foray into a Hitchcockian-style thriller and a film which shares a number of similarities with Akira Kurosawa’s High And Low (1963), albeit a bit more schlocky (in line with the type of films Bette Davis or Joan Crawford spent the 1960’s appearing in). After the unfaithful wife (Yoko Tsukasa) of a business mogul named Kakinuma (Etaro Ozawa) accidentally kills the child of single mother Kuniko (Hideko Takamine) in a hit-and-run accident, they conspire in order to save the bottom line of the company (as well as the wife covering her own back) by having their lowly chauffeur (Yutaka Sada) be the fall guy. However once Kuniko hears word of this conspiracy, she plots her revenge by posing as a maid in the house of the killer. Hit And Run is the final of the 14 film collaboration from Naruse and Hideko Takamine, as the vigilante mother whose love is taken too far. Takamine delivers one intense, angry and histrionic performance of maternal anguish, completely losing her mind come the film’s conclusion in which she becomes a nervous scenery-chewing wreck. However, the film’s more subtle moments do showcase Takamine’s impeccable ability to convey so much without the aid of dialogue.
Comparisons to Kurosawa’s High And Low quickly become evident in Hit And Run, as the business mogul of Yamano Motors Kakinuma attempts to justify his reasoning to cover up the incident in order to save the company’s bottom line as well as their new product (which is ironically a high-speed motorcycle), and the calm manner in which he does so is fascinating in how it portrays the banality of evil. This is reminiscent of how Toshiro Mifune’s character in High And Low attempts to do the same by justifying not paying a ransom in order to save the life of someone else’s child in order to save his company. Likewise, both films showcase the stark differences between the upper and the lower classes, with both films featuring families living in a property up in the hills overlooking the plebs. Additionally, the chauffeur who takes the fall is indeed played by the same actor who portrayed the unfortunate chauffeur in High And Low, Yutaka Sada. There are no moral actors present in the Hit And Run. Kuniko’s revenge goes beyond “an eye for an eye” for “a child for a child” as she attempts to murder the wife’s son but at least struggles to fully go through with her intentions. The unnamed wife however (whom has a child of her own at the same age of the one she killed) is a highly reprehensible character. I never derive any sympathy for her, even when she continues to be plagued by bad dreams of the incident. Although it is never stated, it wouldn’t be unlikely that the husband and wife are in an arranged marriage due to their age difference and lack of commitment.
One scene from Hit And Run involves a flashback to how Kuniko meet her late husband, a Japanese soldier who is pushed into a ditch by prostitutes as they mock him for losing the war, to which he is retrieved by Kuniko as a more sympathetic prostitute followed by a subsequent fast forward to the birth of their son. This flashback however appears to be from another movie starring Hideko Takamine as evidenced by the fact that she appears significantly younger alongside the drastic change in film grain and tone. The inclusion of this flashback is the one criticism I would have with the Hit And Run as its inclusion feels very out of place as this other film is more saccharine in tone nor does it add anything to the larger narrative. Likewise, it also throws into disarray as to when the film is actually set as the flashback is clearly set in the immediate aftermath of the war yet the film’s setting is clearly contemporary for the mid-1960s. That said, would any cinema sleuths be able to identify this film within the film?
Regardless, any other criticism aimed at the very tightly plotted and brisk Hit and Run is largely inconsequential as it doesn’t negatively affect the film based on the strength of its material. Some suspension of disbelief is required that the family at no point would have seen an image of Kuniko (even with her brother doing all the negotiating on her behalf, she is still seen in court). Likewise, what happened to the original maid from whom Kuniko stole the identity from? There is also a piece of set-up in which the housekeeper tells Kunkio “the boiler is dangerous, let me handle that”, however, this never leads to any payoff. Throughout the film, there is also the recurring use of heightened lighting when portraying Kuniko’s murder fantasies. These are cheesy and cliché but do add to the film’s enjoyable schlock value, while the use of a rollercoaster to create a sense of unease is something that would be repeated time and again for years to come (Fatal Attraction, False Face, the aptly titled Rollercoaster).
At its core Hit And Run is about the dangers of automobiles and those who drive them (not exactly news to me having lived in Northern Ireland my whole life with our incredibly graphic road safety adverts). There is however a historical context for this as Takashi Oguchi of The University of Tokyo states:
“Japan has experienced an enormous increase of traffic accidents as a result of the country’s rapid economic growth from the late 1950s to the year 1970. Observers in the early 1960s called the proliferation of traffic accidents the “Traffic War” as the annual traffic-accident fatalities exceeded the average annual fatalities during the First Sino-Japanese war…”
There are several moments in Hit And Run featuring some very impressive two-dimensional shots of automobiles driving by so fast in the street as the drivers give no heed to any children attempting to cross (even as a child stands alone in the middle of the road) while the film concludes on a shot featuring a scoreboard detailing the injuries and deaths from road accidents in a local area to hammer the point home. Then there is the additional metaphorical irony that the company featured in the film itself is an automobile manufacturer that is currently testing high-speed motorcycles while using the intentionally provocative slogan “gamble your life on the moment” (and even laughing that the police object to it). The film ultimately goes as far as it can with this theme without crossing the line into being preachy or overbearing. There is something all the more unsettling at the sight of a body outline when it’s that of a child. Women drivers, amirite?
Mikio Naruse’s Yearning is a unique melodrama with its story combing unorthodox romance/family drama alongside commerce with the Morita family struggling to keep their Mom & Pop store in business against the closet the picture has to a villain in the form of the Walmart-esqe Shimizuya Supermarket. This scourge of modernity with its low prices and ease of convenience is represented throughout the film by a promotional truck as it drives through this small, unnamed town accompanied by music with sinister undertones to it and even more so when it is seen driving along the town’s outskirts with its barren wastelands making it all the more haunting. The supermarket simply doesn’t have the human touch that the shop around the corner such as the Morita’s store provides. However, they simply can’t compete when the supermarket sells a single egg for 5 yen when Mom & Pop need to sell them at 11 yen in order to turn a profit. It is surprising to see this subject matter being explored in 1964, but is the film’s fatalism justified with the supermarket owners acting like bullies and one of the town’s shop owners even committing suicide over the prospect of another supermarket opening? At least in the UK the corner store still soldiers on, many trading under franchise names but independent ones do exist. Yearning does have that British kitchen sink vibe with the store itself having an English feel to it with all its canned goods, glass bottles and weighing scales. Even the music score courtesy of Ichirō Saitō is oddly kitschy at times, throwing in what appears to sound like a theremin or synthesizer on occasions.
At the beginning of Yearning, we are treated to a scene in which a group of young people hold an egg-eating contest in a bar (move over Cool Hand Luke!). Before the contest begins, one woman speaks of how she “ate 12 of those, had diarrhoea and couldn’t stop burping for 3 days” (you know, like you do), as the gross, undignified spectacle proceeds with the young folk frantically stuffing eggs into their mouths while the referee sings the Can-Can (man, the Japanese are weird). The scene does introduce the character of Koji Morita (Yūzō Kayama) and establishes the rivalry his family’s store has with the supermarket, but why do it in such a bizarre manner? A potential metaphor that Koji is a bad egg is the best I can derive from the spectacle. I think of this scene like the Thunderlips fight in Rocky III, one which has no greater purpose or relevance to the plot but it sure is entertaining to watch.
Koji Morita is a total beta-male. This 25-year-old is unemployed with no desire to work, no concern for his future, takes no responsibility for his actions and frequently gets into trouble with the law (Kayama would play another spoiled-brat type character the following year in Kurosawa’s Red Beard). However, his sister-in-law Reiko (Hideko Takamine) is the polar opposite. Reiko has been with the family for 18 years, marrying in when she was 19 and Koji was 11 years her junior at 9 (the film forces the viewer to do some mental arithmetic to figure out the character’s ages). Following the death of Reiko’s husband during the war, she stayed with the family and rebuilt their business after it was destroyed in bombing raids. There is an odd and fascinating relationship between Reiko and Koji, the manner in which they interact you would believe they are biological siblings who grew up together, partially aided by Koji referring to Reiko throughout the picture as “sister”. Koji has an unhealthy dependence on Reiko, relying on her to run the family business which allows him to pursue a gallivanting lifestyle – in ways she is like a mother figure to him, often addressing him like a child. This already unconventional relationship is made all the more so with the film’s big reveal, Koji admits to Reiko that he is in love with her, leading to the most awkward will they/won’t they in cinema history (talk about the extreme opposite of being out with the in-laws, amirite?). Koji appears to be oblivious to the issues which could arise from the taboo and emasculating nature of an older woman/younger man relationship and while the film makes no mention of this, the question should be asked as to how much does he resemble his deceased brother? Moral and ethical conundrums are often raised in Naurse’s films. In the case of Yearning, one of these is to what extent can an in-law remain part of a family after the spouse has passed away – blood is thicker than water. This alongside the business implications of the family’s plan to merge their business with another in order to open their own supermarket puts pressure on Reiko to ultimately leave the family.
During the act of Yearning, Reiko embarks on the train journey home to her original family in Tokyo, only for Koji to unexpectedly accompany her. During their time on the train, there is a natural build-up of her affection towards him. Reiko eventually decides the two of them should get off at the next station and they travel to a little village in the woods called Silver Mountain, the most romantic setting imaginable. At this point it appears they may actually get together as Reiko delivers one of the film’s most poignant lines; “I’m a woman too. You told me that you loved me. To tell you the truth, I was so happy when you said that”. This period of romantic bliss doesn’t last long however as Reiko suddenly comes back to her senses when Koji attempts to kiss her. Yearning concludes with a final image which does stay burned into your memory after watching. When Reiko discovers the following morning that Koji has been found dead after falling off a cliff (boy, that escalated quickly), the picture finishes with a Leone-style close-up of Takamine’s face followed by a hard cut to “The End”. It is a very abrupt ending but I do believe it is appropriate as is does enhance the tragedy and also metaphorically relates to the film’s original Japanese title “Midareru”, meaning to be disordered, disarranged, disarrayed, dishevelled or to lapse into chaos.
As of writing this review, Yearning has never had any western home media release but you can watch it on the Criterion Channel but only in the US & Canada, that is of course unless you head over to our friends over at Express VPN and get three extra months for free, ok only joking (I’m not going to do a Ben Shapiro style ad read).
It’s 9 O’Clock On A Saturday, The Regular Crowd Shuffles In
***This Review Contains Spoilers***
Kurosawa, Ozu, Mizoguchi, the three big boys of Japanese cinema, but who is the fourth Beatle in this group of filmmakers? It would have to be one Mikio Naruse, a director in the genre of Shomin-geki – realist films which focus on the everyday lives of the lower to middle class. With this review, I will do what little I can to get this unsung master of cinema the attention he deserves.
Hideko Takamine is Keiko “Mama” Yashiro, the titular heroine of When A Woman Ascends The Stairs, the hostess with the mostest working in a bar within Tokyo’s Ginza district, one of the most expensive and luxurious districts in the world. The profession of bar hostess is very much a Japanese phenomenon, primarily female staff who cater to men seeking drinking and attentive conversations. Regardless of what exactly defines a bar vs. pub vs. nightclub, the establishments featured in When A Woman Ascends The Stairs are of the highest class with the bar deco seen throughout the film being to absolutely die for. When A Woman Ascends The Stairs is one of the best examples of a film to really capture the essence of the nocturnal urban jungle with this dark and brooding melodrama being shot in velvety black & white with stunning widescreen cinematography. This mood is also exemplified right from the opening credits with its Saul Bass-style minimalist illustrations of bar interiors accompanied by the music score courtesy of Toshiro Mayuzumi, comprised of very soothing, xylophone-infused, 60’s-style lounge music (sadly no soundtrack release or isolated score appears to exist). With this setting, When A Woman Ascends The Stairs has a Casablanca-like flavour with a cast (featuring many character actors) conducting conversations with sublime etiquette amongst a smoke-drenched atmosphere.
It is established in a subtle manner that there is an expectation for hostesses to sleep with their clients. Keiko outright says she is a conservative woman who doesn’t want to lower her standards as she battles to make a living while retaining her self-respect as well as staying faithful to her late husband. Keiko does not actually enjoy the job of being a bar hostess, hence the metaphor of the film’s title – ascending the stairs is an uphill battle to survive as she faces her job and life in general with a fake smile and glass in hand (at one point she is desperate enough to even visit a fortune teller to fork out a future path). Keiko is given the nickname of Mama-san, which I do find odd as she is only 30 years old but I guess that is still past the spring of her life. Due to this, she faces a crossroads in her life if she wants to maintain her standards – get married or open her own bar.
In one key scene, Keiko speaks to the bar’s owner after closing time whom she tells Keiko, “Isn’t your kimono rather subdued? A colourful one is better” (according to the film’s opening, Takamine herself designed the film’s costuming). A lot of implications come out of this one request and it is by another woman, enforcing a culture and expectation for hostesses to sleep with their clients. That brings to mind the other famous form of Japanese hostess, the geisha (of whom during the film one does appear in the bar Keiko works in much to her displeasure). There do exist a number of parallels between When A Woman Ascends The Stairs and Kenji Mizoguchi’s A Geisha (1953), both detailing women who are being forced to sleep with clients in order to stay afloat with such cultures being enforced by the female owners of the establishments – I do recommend both pictures for a double feature. Following the despair brought on by her failure to either get married or open her own bar, Keiko does eventually sleep with a client, Mr Fujisaki (Nobuhiko), or I should more accurately say is raped by him. Yet the morning after she expresses happiness to Fujisaki and expresses her love to him (make of that what you will). The closest the film has to a purveyor of morality is the bar manager Kenichi Komatsu (Tatsuya Nakadai), as he always refuses the advances of women in the bar and holds great admiration for Keiko for her conservative standards (“You can’t find many women like her in Ginza”).
When A Woman Ascends The Stairs features a lot of talk about money and the pursuit of it (we even see the use of the ancient abacus is still in effect as electronic calculators were not yet the norm) from unpaid bills from Keiko’s last bar to the investment of her own place to the money she has to send to her ungrateful family. Even in this heartless world, the talk of finance doesn’t even halt when Keiko is recovering from a stomach ulcer but more significantly, in the wake of a woman’s suicide over her own financial woes, creditors make an appearance at her funeral to ask the family for the money she owed them (debt cancellation after death doesn’t appear to exist). All this discussion of money does slightly work against the film’s favour to the western viewer unless you are an expert in Japanese currency as due to the nature of the Japanese yen and inflationary changes since 1960, it’s hard to quantify just how much money the character’s in the film are discussing. Nonetheless, I have done the research to quantify several key amounts mentioned throughout the picture. The 170,000 yen of Keiko’s unpaid bills from her last place is approximately 7,500 US dollars in 2023, her 30,000 yen apartment rent is 1,700 dollars and the 20,000 yen she gives to her family every month is 1,100 dollars.
By the conclusion of When A Woman Ascends The Stairs, nothing is resolved, Keiko is back at square one and has resigned to her fate. Hideko Takamine has that balance of lovability but also a strong sense of perseverance and stoicism and with the universality of many films from Japan’s golden age of cinema and regardless of the specifics of Keiko’s story, being stuck in a vicious circle of which there is no easy escape is one many a viewer can relate to with the continued ascension of those stairs.
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Sat In Your Lap 