Vampires have always captured the popular imagination (Buffy, Angel, Blade, Underworld, Lost Boys, etc) and I grew up reading everything from Anne Rice to good old Bram Stoker. Yes, vamps are ostensibly a supernatural/occult idea. Being the cerebral creature I am though, and having never quite weaned myself off Joseph Campbell’s psychological approach to stories, what interests me most about these bloodsucker tales is their symbolism. I mean come on, seducing, biting, sucking, drinking, swallowing - it hardly takes a genius to see the sensual appeal. Distilled carnality, inexorable appetite, unfettered by scruples… mmmmm.
My favourite vampire TV series of all time is Forever Knight, which ran from ‘92-’96. I think it’s by far the most stylish, best cast, least corny, and most human ever made. Here’s a really tasteful montage from the series set to K’s Choice’s very appropriate song Not an Addict:
Here’s a droll soundbite from Lacroix (played perfectly by Nigel Bennett):
Humanity is delicious, is it not?
And here’s a song I can say with some certainty none of you readers will remember - Lori Yates’s The Hunger, from the soundtrack of the series:
You must give in
You must give in
A game that you can’t win
The Hunger
There can be no understanding between the hands and the brain unless the heart acts as mediator - Fritz Lang, “Metropolis”
Fritz Lang’s silent film Metropolis (1927) is widely feted as a seminal masterpiece of science fiction. However, what strikes me, more than the the focus on technology and special effects, is the essential humanity of the story. I love experimental science fiction as much as the next nerd, but my fav sci-fi always has a humanistic core. I couldn’t find a clip of the portion of Metropolis the above quote came from, so here’s the introduction to the movie instead, which contains a related line: “But the hands that built the Tower of Babel knew nothing of the dream of the brain that had conceived it.”
Lang’s analogy of the heart as mediator between brain and hands reminds me of similar metaphors used by C.S. Lewis in his little book The Abolition of Man, which I slowly ploughed through when I was 12. Lewis is better known nowadays as the author of the Narnia series of books, which have been translated to the big screen, but he’s written plenty of other, more provocative stuff.
He describes the chest as being the mediator between the head (intellect) and the stomach (visceral needs/desires). When the chest (seat of emotions) atrophies, the head no longer controls the rest of the animal. This analogy has the useful side effect of conjuring a grotesque image of a huge head, bloated stomach, and shrivelled chest, like an emaciated human or caricatured extra-terrestrial.
It may even be said that it is by this middle element that man is man: for by his intellect he is mere spirit and by his appetite mere animal
Brain-hands, head-stomach; the problem with both pairs is they perpetuate mind-body dualism, which I don’t think is the healthiest way to look at the world. But it does starkly illustrate the issue of harmony within the self. It also describes how people actually treat themselves and others. Even if dualism is an inaccurate description of reality, if people act based on that mental framework, then a dualistic explanation of human motivation, action and control remains useful in describing motivation, even if it it doesn’t describe things as they actually are.
But dualism - the belief that mind and body are two completely different and opposed elements - may be one of the roots of unkindness. It’s a convenient excuse to say that my heart wants to be kind, but it’s the base body that made me do something nasty. How many times have we heard someone say that they didn’t mean to hurt others, but they couldn’t help deny their physical needs? And then there’s that pernicious line, “The spirit is willing but the body is weak”. What a cop out. Well, the solution then is to have a heart, isn’t it?
Lewis has this to say about heartless people:
It is not excess of thought but defect of fertile and generous emotion that marks them out. Their heads are no bigger than the ordinary: it is the atrophy of the chest beneath that makes them seem so
That’s a tasty bit of civilised invective, I think. Maybe I’ll tuck that away for future use. “You’re no towering intellect - it’s the contrast with your small heart that makes it look that way!”
I think I’ll end with this comment on the perils of starving one’s emotional development:
… famished nature will be avenged, and a hard heart is no infallible protection against a soft head
I recently watched Curse of the Golden Flower, and had it pointed out that I should check out director Zhang Yimou’s other moves in the past couple of years for comparision, so I did.
I can’t help but feel that things headed downslope after Hero (2002). The plot, pacing and acting in Hero was outstanding. We’ve come to except visual excellence from Zhang Yimou, but all of the special effects wizardry supported the plot directly; emphasising the psychological landscape, colour-coding perspectives, etc. In Curse, a recurring feeling I get is that wherever there was a choice between dialogue to flesh out the plot, and a silent dramatic shot of a brooding man/woman, Zhang Yimou sacrificed substance for form and chose the silent shot.
House of Flying Daggers (2004) spends a lot more time on character development than Curse does, but is let down by an appalling ending that’s almost as bad as the one in The Banquet. Zhang Yimou points out in an interview that the heroine in House of Flying Daggers departs from the traditional Chinese mould of sacrificing herself for the greater good, and instead chooses love. Well, that admittedly interesting aspect would’ve been far more hard hitting if the love story was more believable. I like Takeshi Kaneshiro, and respect Andy Lau, but even they can’t carry an entire movie by themselves.
Chow Yun Fat and Gong Li are given more of a story to work with, so they manage to carry most of it by themselves, and it really is essentially a story about the two of them. Jay Chou’s been pilloried for his performance as the second of three sons but I think he actually fills out the two-dimensional role passably. I can’t help but laugh to myself when I see Ye Liu cast as the crown prince. He has the same deer-in-headlights look that worked so well in The Promise where he played the tortured Snow Wolf. But his one-size-fits-all look does make for a convincingly effete and tormented crown prince.
Much has been made of the corseted cleavage on ample display in Curse. I was much more interested in the armour. Zhang Yimou did a great job of using it to emphasis Chow Yun Fat’s unshakeable grip on the kingdom. Even when sitting down, his armour is so heavy and bulky that it needs to be adjusted.
Now, if there’s one face I’ve seen enough of in Chinese cinema, it’s Zhang Ziyi. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s a competent actress and good-looking woman, but she’s simply been so overused. It would be different if she always brought a positive energy to her roles, but I’ve noticed that she always has the same, angsty, slightly grouchy look. I didn’t realise how starved of variety I was until I watched Vicki Zhao in Warriors of Heaven and Earth and Cecilia Cheung in The Promise. Zhang Ziyi would never have been able to pull off Zhao’s straightforward mixture of innocence and courage, and Cheung’s combination of mischievousness and vulnerability. Zhang Ziyi appears in Hero and Flying Daggers, but we’re spared her in Curse.
Zhang Yimou please give us another Hero. I wonder where his next pseudo-historical flick’s going to be set. He’s already covered the first dynasty, Tang at it peak, Tang in decline… I guess we’ll see eventually.
Dialogue-driven drama can really polarise reactions. Many people I know can’t abide movies where “the people talk too much. Talk talk talk, and no action. So boring. Just shut up and do it lah. Shoot the bugger, or grab the man and find a hotel room”. I beg to differ.
There’s only so much physical emoting you can do. You need dialogue for punctuation, at the very least, even if it’s not a focus. Tom Cruise can ripple his facial muscles all he wants, but if he doesn’t open his mouth, it can quickly become trying.
Ok ok, yes, I’m biased too since I’m obviously a words person - a lover of articulated feelings, desires and ideas. Talk, please. Because it’s rare. Because it’s evidence of effort. Because it shows you care and that I’m worth it. Because we’re not telepaths.
Take Before Sunset, starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy, for example. The movie is completely dialogue driven, but the lines are so good, so memorable, and so revealing that you don’t mourn the lack of action sequences.
Closer, starring Clive Owen, Julia Roberts, Jude Law and Natalie Portman, is another great dialogue-driven movie. A lot of it strengths come from being an adaptation of Patrick Marber’s play of the same name. Clive Owen also premiered the play when it first hit the stage in 1997, which helps explain his commanding performance in the film version.
Choice quotes from Patrick Marber’s play Closer:
Don’t b a pussy. Life without riskisdeath. Desire,liketheworld,is an accident. The bestsex is anon. We liv as we dream,ALONE. I’ll make u cum like a train.
You’re the belle of the bullshit. You look beautiful.
She has the moronic beauty of youth.
Anna: Dan, please be bigger than… jealous. Please, be bigger.
Dan: What could be bigger than jealousy?
Anna: When we’re making love, why don’t you kiss me? Why don’t you like it when I say I love you? I’m on your side. Talk to me.
Dan: It hurts. I’m ashamed. I know it’s illogical and I do understand but I hate you. I love you and don’t like other men fucking you, is that so weird?
Anna: No. YES. It was only sex.
A gritty, unpretty track from Future Sound of London’s Dead Cities album:
I’ve always thought that sensualists are a fairly resilient bunch. By sensualist, I mean someone who revels in sensory experience; not merely someone who’s sensual. Good times are obviously preferable to bad times, but the sensualist is content to feed on, and savour, both.
Are there any liabilities in this kind of world view though?
For instance, I remember a line I read years ago in Stephen Donaldson’s Chronicles of Thomas Covenant about how to hurt someone who’s lost everything: “Give him back something, broken.”
Is there a corollary for sensualists then? How do you hurt someone who finds all experience worthwhile? The only answer I can think of is to qualify that previous statement with “sensory experience” instead of pure experience. Chuck the sensualist in a sensory-deprivation tank and she’s screwed. But if he has a bottomlessly rich and abstract intellectual life, even that might not be enough, short of brain damage or grievous physical harm.
I guess I’m left with what I started with - the sensualist is seriously hard to screw over.
On that note, here’s one of White Zombie’s better known songs, More Human than Human.
There’s a reference to a Blade Runner character, Roy Batty, in the song:
I am the Nexus one,
I want more life,
Fucker, I ain’t done, yeah
Those lines remind me of this exchange in the movie:
———————————- Eldon Tyrell (God of Biomechanics):I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.
Roy Batty (Replicant / Artificial human):It’s not an easy thing to meet your maker.
Eldon Tyrell:And what can he do for you?
Roy Batty:Can the maker repair what he makes? I want more life, fucker.
Eldon Tyrell:The light that burns twice as bright burns half as long - and you have burned so very, very brightly, Roy.
Roy Batty:I’ve done… questionable things.
Eldon Tyrell:Also extraordinary things. Revel in your time.
———————————-
The sensualist would be content to revel in her time, instead of railing against mortality.
I finally saw the Chinese movie The Banquet, which was released earlier this year, and the bottom-line is that despite nice choreography and obvious ambition, it’s a draggy movie with an abysmal ending.
A large budget and plot inspired by Hamlet couldn’t save the story, which lingers painfully on microcosmic feuds and tensions that are never fleshed out satisfactorily. The overall style of the movie is also questionable, with the specificity of styles like Greek masks, kabuki makeup and Chinese outfits jarring a bit disconcertingly. What takes the cake is a scene where members of a theatrical troupe continue to strike dramatic poses as they get slaughtered by assassins.
There’s plenty of build-up, but nothing substantial seems to come out of it other than a Jacobean pile of bodies by the end of the movie. Two-dimensional characters like the absurdly naive Ophelia character and the emperor also don’t help the plot. Each time something pivotal happens, I’m left asking why.
All this contrasts with 2005’s The Promise, directed by Chen Kaige. The Promise is also set in a completely fictional pseudo-historical world. There are fewer nods to specific historical epochs though, and as far as I can tell, all the costumes and imagery were designed from scratch with little reference to fact. All of this aids suspension of disbelief, and abets the creation of a mythical world that’s larger than life. There’s plenty of surreal artiness, but it supports the story instead of fighting it.
My favourite scene in The Promise is when the Goddess tells the heroine that in exchange for material comfort, she will never have love. The Goddess smiles the most chilling smile as she says it, and Chen Kaige insisted on the smile during filming in order to produce that unsettling contrast of a chilling curse delivered benignly. That’s painstaking micromanagement but there’s a point to it since it furthers the plot and atmosphere.
I suppose my dissatisfaction with The Banquet also stems from me having seen a little too much of Zhang Ziyi on the big screen lately. Yes, she’s incredibly popular, and not too bad an actress, but after Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, Musa, Memoirs of a Geisha, and now The Banquet, I’m looking forward to seeing some fresh new faces on the screen the next time round. 2001’s Musa actually parallels 2003’s Warriors of Heaven and Earth plotwise but I found the latter much easier to watch, largely because Vicki Zhao made for a much more likeable female lead than Zhang Ziyi.
I wonder how I’ll find the latest period-type movie to hit the big screen, Zhang Yimou’s Curse of the Golden Flower, starring the wonderfully inscrutable Chow Yun Fat and the (to me) equally inscrutable Gong Li. We’ll find out soon enough.
VS 
VS Curse of the Golden Flower
VERSUS 
