REVIEW: Page of Madness

For the second time since spring break, renowned Japanese benshi, Ichiro Kataoka, joined us in Ann Arbor for a special performance of a Japanese silent film, this time the avant-garde film Page of Madness.  Page of Madness revolves around man who works as a janitor at an asylum to be near his wife who is a patient there. With only 10 of these benshi, traditional narrators of Japanese silent films, left in the world this is a true treat.  I had been absolutely stunned by Kataoka’s skill the first time I saw him perform alongside the silent gangster film Dragnet Girl, and was only left more impressed by talent and professionalism this time around.  Just like last time, whenever I could tear myself away from what was happening on screen, it was fascinating just to watch him perform, his face and body language changing and emoting along with his voice.

Little Bang Theory getting up from their station

The music was done wonderfully by the trio Little Bang Theory.  I was constantly in awe by their performance, they didn’t’ seem to be working off any sheet music but didn’t miss a single note. The soundtrack matched perfectly with the visuals, both haunting and frenzied, complementing the overall tone of the film.  I was also intrigued by the vast array of instruments ranging from quite traditional to ones I had never seen before.   What I found the most amusing were the small wind up toys, similar to the kind you might find in an antique shop, that were used throughout the movie.  Each member of the band was in charge of a variety of different instruments and noisemakers and would switch back and forth as needed, seamlessly keeping the live soundtrack going as they did so.  Just watching them was worth the price of admission itself.

What surprised my friends and I was how brilliantly the story held our attention, despite having absolutely no english subtitles or translation for the entire 60 minute run.  None of us understood more than a handful of words in Japanese.  We credit this to the talent of all the performers, for providing inspiring and haunting performances that perfectly complimented the film itself, along with the film’s rich visuals and intriguing story.

Performers on stage taking a final bow.

When the show was finally over, the performers took a bow to a loud roar of applause and a standing ovation by many.  As my friends and I walked back to our dorm we were left in a state of shock and admiration, talking about the experience and our different interpretations of the movie the entire walk back.

While the film festival is over, I encourage you to see what different events are coming up in the Michigan theater, as well as start making plans for next year’s film festival! Events like these, that combine film with live performance are not one to miss!

 

REVIEW: The 55th Ann Arbor Film Festival — Films in Competition 5

Films in Competition 5 was my very first taste of the Ann Arbor Film Fest, and it was exactly what I expected. 

Even if you haven’t been to any of the films, you may know the AAFF as something along the lines of “the one with all the weird films.”

Indeed, the very first short film–Everything Turns…–was a roller-coaster of a film that quite literally stayed true to its name. Shot on what looked like either 8 or 16mm film, Everything Turns… jolted the audience from one sequence to another without breaking stride. Nothing was static. Film manipulation caused colossal stone blocks to open and close, a wooden barn to rotate, and other structures to recede into the distance. Although the work was clearly from a talented individual, I couldn’t help but feel that it was a little too long.

Commodity City, presented the audience with a look inside the bowels of China’s New South China Mall, the largest shopping mall in the entire world. The director of the piece was clearly a photographer, as every shot of the film was static and composed like a photograph. While they were certainly all beautiful, I wish she had done more with the piece. Without crafting the hours of footage together into a coherent story, Commodity City is a collection of unrelated clips that is aesthetically pleasing, but lacking narrative thrust.

Railment was one of my favorites of the night. The filmmaker, hailing from Japan, animated a film taken from his commuting experience on Japanese railways. All tones were in blue and grey, and the protagonist stood lonely in the car, isolated despite being surrounded by thousands of other commuters. Beautifully crafted and haunting.

Snatched dealt with two French (?) girls running from a number of institutions–an orphanage, an abusive lover, and an oppressive workplace. Fighting against all of these forces draws them closer together by the end of the film. Snatched reminded me a bit of Moonlight, but with girls.

Etude 1a: Release(1)  was the perfect example of an eccentric and eclectic AAFF film. Slow motion, zoomed in shots of cowboys rounding up cattle. Screeching soundtrack. Black and white footage. No idea what the film was about.

Gardening at Night was the “biggest” film of the block in terms of production value and crew size. The film concerned a woman waiting for a phone call from the hospital regarding her friend’s battle with cancer. Autobiographical in nature, Gardening at Night also mixed in elements of horror. It reminded me a little of an M. Night Shyamalan film–one of his good films. My only wish is that the film had kept the lighting consistent throughout. I felt jarred a few times when the film went from a darkened living room at night to a bright swimming pool outside at noon.

Crossing was too long. Regardless of it’s merits, 17 minutes is too long for a film that uses a repetitive soundtrack as the only source of sound to complement blurry sequences of people crossing the street. I enjoyed the concept, but the film was too long. There’s nothing more to say about that.

Any given block of films at the Ann Arbor Film Fest will leave you with a different experience, but I would wager that the experience will be worth it. The nice thing about this fest is that the filmmakers get invited on the stage afterwards to answer questions from the audience. You don’t often get that opportunity.

PREVIEW: The 55th Ann Arbor Film Festival (AAFF)

The Ann Arbor Film Festival is the oldest avant-garde and experimental film festival in North America (from the Web Site).

The festival is full of indie and oddball films, characteristic of Ann Arbor culture. Over the course of the six day festival, viewers can choose from over 180 films from over 20 countries. Genres include documentary, fiction, animation, and experimental.

March 21 – March 26 (Full Film Schedule View)

Michigan Theater, North Quad, & The Ravens Club

Cost: $12 for adults, and $8 for Students/AAFF Members

There are also FREE Events

Facebook event page

The AAFF is popular enough to warrant an SNL sketch parodying the kind of festival it is.

REVIEW: Kidd Pivot and the Electric Company

Sitting in the audience of the Power Center, I soon realized how distant this show was from any previous theater experiences I’d had before. The show began looking into the set of a vaguely warehouse-esque room with a column in the middle, and the first thing to happen was the movement of electrical cords, spreading apart to opposite ends of the stage. Almost ghost-like, they seemed to move on their own accord and there was no indication where the movement was coming from. This first minute was when I began to question what I had entered into for the next two hours. As I searched for words and footholds into this piece, something to describe and relate to it, the closest mainstream theater description I could find became the musical Chicago meets psychological-thriller-horror-movie. Think jazz numbers and spangled costumes mixed with the anticipation of brutal plot twists and fear. The lack of footholds to grasp onto in the piece, though, seems characteristic of new age-y modern expressionism. It is the interiority of the creator depicted onto the stage, meant to make the audience think and contemplate, not merely for surface-level enjoyment. A potential, and possibly more accessible, dance comparison that kept coming to mind throughout the performance was the “Slip” video that circulated the internet about while ago.

Both the slippery, interconnected choreography and the eery industrial set (with flickering fluorescents and all) is quite similar in style to that of Betroffenheit. The first act of the production mixed theater and dance together, with very little dialogue. In a premonitory twist, a strobe-light warning was issued before the show began; as it progressed, the production itself became a strobe effect. A bombardment of the senses, I continually felt that just as I had regained my balance and was beginning to understand, I was quickly thrown off, left reeling and scrambling back into the show.

Image c/o Kidd Pivot

The show was an exploration in the experience of trauma, and though it held the aforementioned eery quality, it was not exclusively a dark production. A bright and exciting cha cha-esque number was thrown in, along with a series of tap and vaudevillian pieces.

The second act was more of a dance production than theater, focusing on the choreography of Crystal Pite. Her work in Betroffenheit was mesmerizing; almost pedestrian with liquid-like partnering work that featured the breadth and skill of the performers more so than the first act had. While I struggled to grip and understand the first act’s interpretation and representation of emotional exploration, I loved the emotion and expression through the choreography.

Image c/o UMS

As I listened to the reactions of those sitting around me, many people were in love with Kidd Pivot and the Electric Company’s work. Many also seemed as though this style of performance was not outside their wheelhouse. Betroffenheit, from my interpretation, seemed like a show best suited for those saturated within the dance and experimental performance community – those who are constantly looking at and working with this genre of material. While I, as an outsider, could appreciate and enjoy pieces of it, I feel as though the powerful and soul-stirring impact was somewhat lost on my uninstructed-self.

REVIEW: Song of the Sea

Song of the Sea is an enchanting story that addresses family, loss, and closure through the lens of an animated fantasy drama. Directed by Tomm Moore, who is known for Academy Award nominee The Secret of Kells (2009), the magical tale of Song of the Sea follows the adventure of a 10-year-old Irish boy named Ben and his mute sister, Saoirse, a selkie — a mythological creature of Irish folklore that is human on land and a seal in water.

The story begins with a little background behind Ben and Saoirse’s family. Suffering the loss of their mother, Bronagh, their family struggles to be happy. Ben blames his sister for their mother’s passing, Saoirse longs for the love of her broken family, and their father, Conor, still struggles with the loss of his wife. When Ben and Saoirse discover her magical abilities, the two find themselves on a journey to save all the faeries in the land with the “Song of the Sea,” a song of healing that only the selkie can sing.

For those of you who have seen and marveled at the beauty of The Secret of Kells (2009), Song of the Sea proves itself to be even more beautiful. Although at times the story may be a little hard to follow, the breathtaking art and intricate details of the film captivates the audience and keeps them engaged.

The animation is entirely hand drawn and 2-dimensional, playing with the depth of the scenery by overlaying parts of the background with the characters on screen. Almost like a fairy tale book in the form of animated cinema, Song of the Sea is imaginative and beautifully crafted. The animation sequences are fluid and careful, drawn with precision and a kind of gentle softness that draws our eyes, and it becomes enchanting to watch.

Apart from the art, the characters in this film are also very representative of the different ways people deal with loss. The magical characters draw parallels with human counterparts, expressing a variety of ways that people mourn and reasoning with the harmful consequences that they might bring. Macha, the owl witch, promises to take away the pain and suffering by petrifying those who are hurt, even petrifying her own son to save him from the pain. However, Song of the Sea proves that bottling up your emotions and removing yourself from your feelings is not as helpful as we hope it to be.

Song of the Sea inspires its audience to find closure during times of loss and mourning through love and acceptance. The very end of the film brings about the closure the family desperately needed. After Ben and Saoirse’s journey brings them home to their father’s lighthouse, they realize their cooperation and love for each other saves them and their family, as well as all of the endangered faeries and mythological creatures.

Here’s the official summary for the film: “In this enchanting new story from the Academy Award-nominated director of The Secret of Kells, Ben and his little sister Saoirse—the last Seal-child—must embark on a fantastic journey across a fading world of ancient legend and magic in an attempt to return to their home by the sea. The film takes inspiration from the mythological Selkies of Irish folklore, who live as seals in the sea but become humans on land.”

REVIEW: Music for 18 Musicians

A standing ovation after Reich’s Music for 18 Musicians

Last night, Hill Auditorium throbbed with the pulsing patterns, reverberating rhythms, and crunchy chords of the one and only Steve Reich. The seats were packed with fans (and critics) of the Pulitzer-Prize winning composer for the UMS premieres of Reich’s music by Chicago-based ensembles Eighth Blackbird and Third Coast Percussion, in celebration of the composer’s eightieth birth year.

As a special, pre-concert treat, three student ensembles from U of M’s School of Music performed in the lobbies of Hill Auditorium prior to the concert. The University of Michigan Western African Drumming Ensemble brought Reich’s polyrhythmic roots to life, while a student jazz quartet covered John Coltrane’s Africa, a work that influenced the composer’s perception of rhythmic and harmonic possibilities. A student violin quartet performed Reich’s Violin Phase, a difficult piece that involves one of Reich’s trademark techniques, phasing, in which players purposefully fall gradually out of sync with one another in order to bring rhythmic and polyphonic complexity to the texture. All three performances were extremely impressive and drew sizable crowds. I only wish that they hadn’t overlapped so that I could have fully enjoyed all three.

The concert itself began with Steve Reich’s Sextet, performed by all four members of Third Coast Percussion with guest percussionist Matthew Duvall and pianist Lisa Kaplan. Although these were the performers’ “official” titles, that did not restrict Reich from calling on the percussionists to play piano parts, or the pianists to play synthesizers. The players moved around the labyrinth of a setup and traded around instruments with ease, while the music flowed so naturally that these transitions were hardly noticeable. The structure of the piece was as regular and predictable as it was surprising, which made for a very satisfying auditory experience. This performance was certainly deserving of the ovation it received.

The second half of the concert held what everyone had come to see: Music for 18 Musicians. The piece is notoriously demanding due to its significant length and the sheer man- (and woman-)power it requires, which explains why it is not performed often. The fact that 18 players (or in this case, 19––the ensemble chose to have four full-time female vocalists, rather than having one double on piano), were able to stay so in sync with one another without a conductor was astounding.

The piece is about an hour long, which allows plenty of time for the audience to engage in deep focus and/or distracted contemplation: there are moments when you consider checking how much time has passed, but there’s something too special and soothing about letting yourself remain suspended in oblivion; you’re tempted to doze off on the shore of this ocean of sound, but you also want to hold on tightly to every musical moment before it disappears from right under your nose; you wonder when the piece will be over, but you’re terrified of this sweet, unadulterated regularity coming to an end. The dynamic swells that run throughout the entire piece are like a breeze passing through a dense forest, making the leaves shimmer and the sweat on your brow sparkle. All 19 musicians achieved such a deep level of focus, intentional musicality, and personal connection with the music, themselves, and the audience that it was hard to walk out of that auditorium feeling nothing.

Ann Arbor was extremely fortunate to have Eighth Blackbird, Third Coast Percussion, and their guest co-performers come together for this special evening of sound from an undeniably significant composer. Whether or not I finally get Music for 18 Musicians out of my head, I won’t be forgetting this concert for a long time.

 

After performing Reich’s Sextet