Reviews

This was a bit of a surprise for me as I was unaware of the Japanese samurai action/comedy genre which is where Samurai Vagabond seems to fit in and, although I'm more of a purist for either form on their own I was willing to give this a go. Two Tokugawa lords are up for the open shogun job but wanting a final taste of freedom team up to escape their castles and retainers and hit the road, eventually ending up in the rough and tumble world of early 18th Century tabloid journalism.

Unfortunately Tadashi Sawashima, a prolific, if unremarkable, director fails to deliver on either the action or the comedy. The whole thing is really let down by an overly broad and severely underwritten screenplay. The 'comedy' is of the late period Jerry Lewis by way of third season Gilligan's Island variety, in other words, painful to watch. Action is chaotic and lightly rehearsed and while the leads are all pleasant enough the script requires more than the awful choices they've taken with their roles. It's too bad, it's an interesting story that was more deserving of better staging and writing. Bonus points for beautiful studio based art direction though.

1941 - Krylya nad Berlinom (roughly Wings Over Berlin) (2022) tells the tale of the first Soviet bombing raid into the German capital, carried out by black sea naval pilots with their out-dated bombers. This is a story that's been told by every country during wartime since at least the 1940s from 30 Seconds Over Tokyo right into the '60s with Battle of Britain not to mention films on the German, Japanese, and English side and, unfortunately, director and co-writer Konstantin. Buslov brings nothing new to the story. Virtually every genre cliche is put on screen leaving no time for any of them to be fleshed out or any new perspectives added that might have provided more interest.

That said, I happen to love this sort of film and was quite happy to roll along on the utterly predictable path as the technical side of things are competent with the CGI work not being too apparent. Battle scenes are surprisingly lackluster and no tension is created as the results are bone stock right down the line leaving no doubt of the outcome. It's impossible to divorce this film from the current situation and if one is looking there are definitely some propaganda bits thrown in here and there although it's not overly heavy handed but they are definitely there. Not an awful way to kill a couple of hours but not a particularly notable cinematic achievement.

Hobart Bosworth's first self-produced film (through Ince), Blind Hearts, tells the story of two friends who make their fortune in the Alaskan gold fields but are driven apart when Bosworth suspects his buddy (Wade Boteler) with unbecoming affections for his wife when they both have their children on the same day but Hobart's daughter (Madge Bellamy) shares the same birthmark as Boteler. Unfortunately the doting maid has switched the children at birth in an effort to please both men's gender preferences for their kids and complications inevitably arise.

As contemporary reviews noted the story was hoary even back then and it hasn't really gotten any better with age but director Rowland V. Lee and cinematographer J. O. Taylor present the action quite effectively, including the opening scenes when the men and their wives are stranded in the ice on their way to Alaska. Cast does what they can although the acting styles are still rooted more in the '10s and less evolved than what it would be in a couple of years, still it's great to see young Madge Bellamy not being a white zombie.

Print viewed had Italian intertitles and appears to have about a reel missing, leaving out (according to those old reviews) scenes where Bosworth forbids 'his' daughter to marry Boteler's son and also the murder of their mining company's director who was about to confront Bosworth's skeevy assistant for skimming the accounts. Even with the gap the story still flows nicely, perhaps that where the cliched plot came in handy.

Based on a story by Anton Chekhov, Kashtanka (1926), gives a further opportunity to admire the work of director Olga Preobrazhenskaya and her decidedly unique world view populated by lower class characters who must endure the trials of Job in situations that even Charles Dickens might feel are a little too grim.

After his beloved dog, Kashtanka, is stolen by an unscrupulous pet seller, young Fedya unexpectedly falls into the clutches of a band of truly rotten crooks where he is forced to work for repellent organ grinder, Mazamet. Meanwhile Kashtanka manages to end up with a kindly circus clown who trains the dog to perform in his show with the rest of his animal friends. It's a simple story that is enhanced by Preobrazhenskaya's use of close ups, although a few less joyous peasant shots certainly wouldn't have hurt but it did emphasize the grotesque nature of their tormentors when turned on them.

There are some difficult moments as poor Fedya suffers indignity after indignity and while the story arc probably leaves nobody surprised there is an unsettling bit of uncertainty about just how happy of an ending may be in store if the Clown's (Nikolai Panov) gut-wrenching performance is allowed to sink in. Note that there are many animals used in the production and it seems unlikely that all were treated ethically, especially an unfortunate bear, so keep that in mind.

Released just prior to Germany's invasion of soon-to-be-former ally, Russia, Volshebnoye Zerno (roughly The Magic Seed) (1942) seems to be the Soviet Union's answer to The Wizard of Oz crossed with The Blue Bird and it's a rather astonishing window into that particular moment in time. Co-directed by Fyodor Fillipov and Valentin Kadochnikov it is given the full treatment and includes traditional animation, stop-motion animation, and bold set and creature design that could rival Hollywood in ambition if not necessarily technical execution.

Two impoverished peasant children are gifted by a wandering pied piper/agronomist with a magic seed that when planted grows a special plant which grants wishes and brings prosperity as long as it is nurtured. Unfortunately the evil pest king is set on destroying the plant and sends his legion of weevils, rats, and other agricultural vermin (who, while cheaply costumed, are as much the stuff of nightmares as the flying monkeys that pestered Dorothy) to capture those meddling kids.

The propaganda is cleverly - and not too brazenly - inserted into this story and deciphering it that makes it a fun movie for adults as well as the young pioneers among the vast, grain producing proletariat. It's a tribute to the filmmakers that it's entertaining enough to stand in solidarity with the biggies from the west. An unexpected treat.

Continuing the grand tradition of early ethnographic films Dragus takes a slightly different tack than the usual 'naked savages' plot line that its contemporaries were using, instead focusing on the native peasant culture of rural Romania between the World Wars - although they did manage to sneak in a distant bather to cement the link. Co-directed by Paul Sterian and Nicolae Argintescu the film chronicles a rather large and ongoing sociological study by Professor Dimitrie Gusti of small Romanian villages, this time centered on Dragusul and it attempts to document the day to day lives of the denizens as well as their ceremonies and traditions.

The similarities with other films of this type continue with the invasion of the natives by a swarm of city dwellers intent on studying them whether they want it or not. It is fascinating for its capture of a culture that has disappeared at what was probably the end of its life. Occupations are shown, two weddings are filmed (including dowry rituals which are fascinating), and time is even taken to grant ol' Professor Gusti honorary citizenship. By no means is this cinematically groundbreaking but if you have any interest in this culture or the time it is worth checking out as I suspect moving pictures from this era and place are few and far between.

I can see why the Film Foundation spent some money bringing back Two Girls on the Street (or as they might say in Hungary, Ket lany az uccan), it's rather astounding. Directed by Endre Toth (or as they might say in Hollywood, Andre De Toth) in the cinematic miracle year of 1939, it tells the tale of two women, one jilted by her two-timing lover and forced to play violin in an all-girl gin joint band and the other a newly minted orphan who is broke and broken by a stream of grabby heels, as they move up from their crummy street to the Budapest equivalent of Park Avenue.

What is so extraordinary is the frankness De Toth brings to the story. After getting impregnated by her caddish boyfriend, Giyongyi (Maria Fekete) does not waste a minute and pays an immediate visit to an abortion clinic to rid herself of his baby, which we experience in full right there with her. Yikes. Her youthful ward, Vica's (Bella Bordy), own encounters with her creeps are equally frank. Comparisons with the hard edged depression themed films that were coming out of Warner Brothers in the early '30s are hard to miss, although this is no gold digger film and honestly has more of an MGM vibe, although nothing like this would ever come out of that studio, particularly that far into the Code.

There are some problems with the story to my way of thinking, particularly Vica's attraction to one of her early man problems, but they are easy to overlook when contemplating the whole. All in all well worth tracking down.

As a fan of British gangster films I was very pleased at just how well Dead Shot fits right in with some of the biggies of the genre and, in particular, my all time favorite, The Long Good Friday. In fact there's a case to be made that Dead Shot is the latter's direct descendant if not a deliberate homage.

In this case we're with the IRA at the height of the troubles and a mistaken killing starts a spiral of violence that overwhelms everybody involved, with everyone getting more than they wanted or bargained for. Directors Guard catch the spirit of the time with an authentic feeling and visual representation of those difficult years and even more fittingly a retro-synth soundtrack perfectly channels Long Good Friday's utterly weird and wonderful music.

It's great when you're surprised by a film and I'm pleased to say that Dead Shot surprised me. Pacing is top notch and it doesn't stick around just for the sake of it, just all in all a quality entry in the British gangster genre and a must see if you like that sort of thing. There will be blood though, so be aware of that.

I feel like it's wrong to judge 1915: Legend of the Gurkhas. On the one hand there is clearly an attempt at something that is a little beyond the usual of a routine cinematic war movie as it ventures into the no man's land of films like Johnny Got His Gun or even All Quiet on the Western Front. On the other, a low budget and awkward direction prove to be major distractions to what is clearly a thoughtful film, even if some of the ideas are muddy.

Gurkha soldier Kulbir Thapa (Samir Gurung) is in yet another pointless battle in the trenches of World War I but seems to be suffering something of a mental lapse as he stops fighting in the middle of it all and ends up the sole survivor from his troop, trapped among the enemy fortifications where he must find his way back to his own side. That he ends up getting many of his mates killed while he is haunted by...something...for...reasons... is one of the main difficulties and why I had such trouble with his character. Another being he basically grunts the entire time (to be fair, he's been shot) even when he's trying to sneak through the enemy lines which struck me as borderline suicidal. I think there is some sort of meditation on pacifism being tried in all this but it begs the question how did he get to be a soldier in the first place if that was his nature?

There are many interesting concepts that are entertained but never seem to be focused let alone resolved, perhaps the brief running time prevented them from being properly fleshed out but it ultimately left me unsatisfied. A real near miss but probably worth seeing anyway as at least it tried something different.

Capping off an astonishing 11 films in 4 years of Otoko no monsho films, The Young Boss is a worthy, if tired, final telling of this unusual yakuza saga. Riffing on the first few films Hideki Takahashi is once again the son of deceased yakuza boss who has been trying to stay out of the life but takes to it anyway where his considerable skills are put to the test by rival gangs.

No big surprises but no wasted moments. It's all competently handled by director Motomo Ido, nothing too earth shattering but is very watchable when expectations aren't too demanding. The whole thing is thematically consistent with the rest of the series so it's fun to match the characters and situations with earlier incarnations although that does make things fairly predictable. Not making any more was the right decision.

Fourth in the series of films following the trials and tribulations of doctor and reluctant yakuza clan boss, Ryuji, The Scarred Crest redeems itself enough to allow one to intuit how they managed to squeeze 10 sequels from the Otoko no monsho franchise.

Grand cinema this is not but it's an interesting enough concept set in a time period and subject matter that you don't see represented often so it's worth watching it you've got some time to burn. Ryuji is doctoring with the troops fighting in Manchuria when he fails to save the also reluctant son of yet another yakuza boss. Upon returning home he offers to help the soldier's father when his clan falls under attack, via embezzlement of money that was to be used for the construction of barracks for the troops, by a rival mob leader, the wonderfully creepy Toru Abe.

The way the Manchurian war is featured is what is so interesting for me. That was a war that '60s Japan could apparently feel OK with as the patriotism of the clans or the worthiness of the invasion is never in doubt and there's a moral clarity about the conflict that just seems a little odd from this distance, in both time and mileage. Still, not bad. Not great, but not bad.

Every now and then a film just absolutely throws me for such a loop that I have to take some time to reflect on what I've seen and Madchen am Kreuz (aka Crucified Girl) (1929) is one of those films. Directed by the husband and wife team of Jacob and Luise Fleck it's as if Straw Dogs was crossed with a D. W. Griffith morality show that shakes what you think a silent film can be to its rawest core.

The IMDB synopsis seriously undersells what you're about to get into, story is essentially the very bad week a father and his daughter, Mary, suffer, he at the cuckolding affairs of his second wife and Mary at the hands of the creepy gardener whose stalking takes a turn for the much, much worse when he brutally assaults Mary in a scene that is one of the most extraordinary sequences I've seen in a silent. Just devastating.

Despite being an Austrian film I could easily see this as a pre-Code Warner Bros., particularly something like Wild Boys of the Road or The Story of Temple Drake, but the freedoms allowed in European productions ensure a grittiness that American films of this time would seem unlikely to ever achieve. Restored by Film Archive Austria it is not complete and is missing about 250 meters of running time which happily did not seem to disrupt what is left although I do hope it shows up as I think having every frame of this would be a good thing.

One of the series of films produced by the United Jewish Appeal, Not One Shall Die (1957) continues the tradition of using solid, upper-grade actors and behind the scenes talent to raise awareness of the reasons behind the deep need for a charitable gift and, like Man on a Bus (1955), it does it with a polish not usually associated with what is essentially an industrial type film.

Guy Madison is a doctor and Holocaust survivor who has been forced to become a refugee from an unnamed Eastern European country and becomes despondent after being separated from his wife in their escape. Finding himself at the relocation center run by a helpful charity - hint, hint - he tries to work through his grief aided by Agnes Moorehead and her husband who have their own terrible story to convey.

Director David Rich is no Joseph Lewis but he keeps things moving along with no lag in interest, although at around a half an hour, there's not a lot of room for dilly-dallying anyway. It's always a pleasure to see Paul Stewart, wildly out of his usual typecasting as the director of the refugee center. I kept expecting him to start cracking wise so the change-up was refreshing.

An early effort that mines the territory Dr. Arnold Fanck would exploit so successfully with his mountain adventure movies, Die weisse Wuste (aka The White Desert) (1922), directed by Ernst Wendt with Ejnar Stier, tells the tale of a corrupt shipowner who not only sabotages his own ship for the insurance money but has creepy designs on his new housemaid to boot. He gives his his old girl the air and she ends up on the ship being held prisoner by the equally lusty captain who has also shanghaied two friends for their trip to the arctic. When the vessel hits an iceberg the unlikely group must find their way back to civilization.

Produced by prominent animal dealer John Hagenbeck, his menagerie gets a thorough workout with a host of geographically challenged bears and foxes plaguing the group along the way. Wendt did a lot of work with animal films around this time so I wonder if he and Hagenbeck collaborated on more than this one. It's definitely of the era but while the animals are not treated to current standards they do have the decency to use guys-in-bear-suits for the heavy stuff. Technically fine the film moves right along in what must have been difficult conditions. The story is satisfying if not covering any new dramatic ground.

Filmmuseum Munchen restoration has rescued most of it, with a few sections heavily deteriorated but watchable and a couple others requiring title card filler but it is, overall, a lovely transfer. Worth seeing particularly if you enjoy German 'mountain' movies as this is a primal example that helps set the parameters for the genre.

Perhaps the last place you'd expect to find unrepentant nihilism mixed with angst-y nouvelle vague-ism is in a Japanese pinku soft-core movie but director Koji Wakamatsu delivers just that with The Woman Who Wanted to Die. The ritual suicide of poet rebel Yukio Mishima sets off the unsettled Ryoko who is tired of life so she dumps her equally dour boyfriend after they failed to complete their suicide pact and immediately marries a man with the same problem with his old girlfriend. Rather conveniently all four meet up at the mountain inn where the old girlfriend set up shop after failing to die from the injuries from their failed attempt.

Wakamatsu started out doing standard creepy pinku porn but developed a revolutionary zeal that he adapted into his output giving them a degree of sophistication that was definitely out of place and totally unexpected in that particular genre. There is a certain - I hate to use the word but - artistic element here, he mixes color footage with standard black and white imagery that shows he was well aware of what was going in France and other countries that were experimenting with non-traditional cinematic techniques. An interesting hour although the mind does wander and it does feel padded even at that.

I must admit to having a difficult time judging Manasse since I have no experience with Romanian silent films and my main point of references are those films from more developed (I presume) cinematic infrastructures that were nearing the peak of their artistic powers. Director Jean Mihail, in only his second turn in the big chair, is unfortunately drawing much more on conventions from 10 years earlier than from his contemporaries and the results are painfully apparent.

The story is quite interesting though. After the death of his wife, a pious Grandfather, Manasse, leaves his rural home in the Jewish quarter of Falticeni to visit with his successful and more worldly son in Bucharest, trailed by the utterly odious and money-grubbing hanger on, Zelig, who is trying to arrange a marriage with one of his 'customers' and Manasse's granddaughter. Unfortunately she is already in love with a nominally Christian judge but her parents allow Zelig's scheme to progress causing much pain for all involved. Given a more competent telling there is a lot to consider here, particularly at this point in history but it's mostly a mash leaving story arcs frustratingly unresolved or underdeveloped.

I think the lack of technique could best be compared to the race films, both Black and Yiddish, from the '30s and early '40s where the aspirations of the filmmakers were overshadowed by their lack of technical competency. Manasse sorely needs an editor as it would seem the company was obsessed with getting use from every frame of footage shot, regardless of how it impacted pacing or story development. Still, it's a fascinating glimpse at Jewish life in between-the-Wars Eastern Europe and the attitudes that were in the air at the time just prior to the looming extinction event that would change it forever.

In that brief instant between the World Wars a theme that seems to recur in Polish silent film are stories about other periods where they actually existed as a homogeneous and independent state and Pan Tadeusz is no different. Telling the story of an aristocratic family and the romantic, political, and inter-necine machinations they encounter as Lithuania tries to unite with Poland under Napoleon to oust the Russian invaders (who knew?) it's pretty heavy stuff for those not well versed in that particular localized historical era and unfortunately missing film makes some gaps in the story a bit of a struggle to follow. A daring use of poetry for the intertitles doesn't help in clearing things up for non-natives but if you pay attention you can get this gist of things.

Director Ryszard Ordynski is clearly talented. There is some striking cinematography, clever mise en scene, and some stylistic editing that reminded me more of Abel Gance than either Hollywood or Moscow. For me though the story lacked sufficient structure (again, this may be the result of that missing footage) to fully engage as it wandered between the various characters and situations. Reasonably well acted but trying to keep track of the assorted extravagantly mustachioed characters was something of a chore.

All in all a quality bit of late silent era movie making from a cinematically underrepresented region.

Man on a Bus is a Joseph H. Lewis movie I thought I'd never see but thanks to some Spielberg money that preserved it, here we are. The half hour short seems to have been intended for television stations to air around Rosh Hashanah, back when they did that sort of thing, and was sponsored by the United Jewish Appeal.

Passengers are on a bus that breaks down in the Negev desert, offering a chance for them to tell how they all came to Israel. Coming just 10 years after the war most of the stories are pretty grisly and there's a lot of stock footage mixed throughout to backup both the bad and the good. It stars some A- list stars including Broderick Crawford as the bus driver and passengers include Ruth Roman, J. Carrol Naish, and Walter Brennan(!). The tales are briskly told given the time constraints but the film does manage to convey the thanks, wonder, courage, fear, and foreboding of the new settlers as they wait to be either attacked or rescued.

Lewis isn't given a lot to work with but you can tell he's there, the staged portions are quite well done and there is a certain visual style you normally wouldn't see in PSA level productions. Naturally there is a theme of the need to donate to the charities that were helping the new settlers and country but it isn't too obnoxious for viewers today. Probably mainly for Lewis aficionados or Walter Brennan completists though.

Prolific (although completely new to me, which is not a surprise given the single hand count of 'early' Korean films I've managed to view) director, Soo-yong Kim, has created a film very much of its time with Sanbul (1967). Channeling the best of the French nouvelle vague and Nippon noir his film is truly something unique, telling the story of a small, impoverished mountain village that has been decimated by the war, leaving only the widowed women behind to fend for themselves as they are beset by communist guerrillas in the surrounding mountains and the fast approaching army from the South. When a deserter from the North is discovered hiding in their bamboo forest pent up desires rise to the surface disrupting the already precarious status quo.

Ambitiously photographed in wide screen, the film is surprisingly confined with Kim successfully presenting the limited world the women have been relegated to. Used without thought by both sides they are pawns in larger storylines they have no control over and this is effectively portrayed without going over the top stylistically. Actors are all in good form despite the general unpleasantness of some of the villagers. Sanbul doesn't overstay its welcome and provides some solid food for thought and is, all in all, well worth making the effort to see.

Because he had to break his own clan rules Ryuji resigns as leader and retreats to a monastery for some self-examination. While he's away the clan, along with his mother's group, clash with the rest of the Yakuza mobs who want to rig bidding for a civic construction job and that ultimately forces Ryuji back into the game.

It's a bit of a slow, but not boring build up to the big finale but the journey is generally worth it. Fight sequences are pretty good, or at least up to the basics for the genre. It's not going to win any awards but there are worse ways to spend an hour and a half and it does merit some favor for fans of these sorts of films.

In Tomb Empty Coffin a top investigator for the Song Dynasty is sent back to the village where his adopted family lives to investigate a gruesome string of murders that seems to be covered up by the clearly counter-revolutionary local official. What could have been a fairly standard film is made interesting by the mixture of genres including mystery, suspense, horror, and kung fu that, when combined, actually work as enough of a novelty to keep you entertained.

Production work is all competent and the actors are able to make the most of their roles, although everybody is pretty much a stock character of a type that have been staples of these films for decades. The novel action and clever mystery does make it worth viewing though if this sort of thing is to your taste.

For the record, Love and Duty (1931) was going to be a bit of a heavy lift for me as I know next to nothing about silent Chinese cinema and have a pretty low tolerance for melodramatic claptrap so take that into account here. Still, it's always best to test ones limits.

A woman is punished for following her true love instead of keeping with her arranged marriage, despite having two children that she must leave behind in the process. Things don't go to plan and hard times quickly descend around the pair and their new baby. Unfortunately the technical side of the movie is as uninspired as the story with the whole thing seeming more a product of filmmaking from the 'teens rather than as a very late (at least in the west) silent film. Perhaps my expectations for films of this period raised the bar a little too high. Photography is particularly maddening as the few interesting shots are far outweighed by closeups that are stunningly out of focus.

Director Wancang Bu brings little to the table but was able to maintain a career well into the '60s. The pace is fairly glacial, something I didn't expect and reflects more of early D. W. Griffith than the later innovators and at two and half hours is far too long. The stars, Lingyu Ruan, Yan Jin, and Ying Li seem held back by the material and direction but do maintain a certain degree of credibility in spite of it all. Poor Ms. Ruan, given the later troubles in her personal life the film is particularly ironic. Some minor decomposition in a couple of scenes but it's definitely better with them in and not terribly distracting.

After his swordsmith father is killed by a treacherous court official, the son grows up to be the leader of an inept gang of fellow orphans who help him use his unfinished sword to help the masses. They are unexpectedly given the assignment to escort a traveler, who turns out to be the progressive son of the emperor, back to the imperial court in the face of a stream of assassins who mean for the young prince to never get there.

Director Yuxi Li keeps things moving along at a brisk pace and the swordplay action is pretty well done. Obviously a budget minded film, that doesn't much get in the way as the CGI is competent enough so as not to be too noticeable. The story, while firmly in genre territory, keeps you entertained as the action unfolds, avoiding any real groaners as it moves swiftly to the conclusion. An easy way to spend an evening.

I rarely get a chance to see contemporary Chinese action films so coming across Legend of Zhao Yun was a chance not to be missed. After his entire village is eradicated by a rebellious warlord, Zhao Yun becomes involved with trying to take revenge by using the highly developed fighting skills that he's tried to put aside for a life of peace. After he is almost killed by a poisoned arrow, the wife of the leader of three brothers, who realize that the warlord they were serving is as tyrannical and vicious as the king he usurped, saves his life and Zhao Yun swears allegiance to them.

Directed by Ye Qingyun, no cinematic boundaries are being challenged, but the limited budget is put to good use and the fight scenes are perfectly adequate to keep ones interest throughout. Cast is fine doing the needful and don't embarrass themselves or the director. A perfectly harmless way to kill an hour and a half but do factor in the customary kung fu type violence if that is not your thing, (although this is mainly a sword and spear joint).

Otoko no monsho (Symbol of a Man) is the first in a series of what would eventually become 11 films in total, made, rather astonishingly, over the course of a mere 4 years. An impressive achievement even for Nikkatsu but it's easy to see the appeal.

Takahashi Hideki stars in the lot of them as Ryuji, the only son of the powerful local yakuza clan leader, only his isn't your typical '60s yakuza clan. Pops is old school and has a strong moral streak and an affinity for the locals, much to the chagrin of the up and coming new school crowd of hoodlums looking to move in on the old man's territory. Ryuji at first tries to leave his father's life behind by becoming a skilled surgeon but is soon forced into deciding whether the yakuza life will be for him as well.

It's an interesting mix set in '30s Japan - pre-World War II but during the invasion of China, which provides some motivation for the family to go straight by helping the war effort. Not quite a samurai film and not quite the traditional '60s yakuza film it does somehow work. Technical efforts are solid for the era although nothing particularly notable cinematically. Director Matsuo Akinori would take on several from the series and he does seem to have the feel for what is expected as well as a willingness for going a different direction. He's no Seijun Suzuki but he gets the job done.