But 3-4 months ago, I realized this obsession would probably serve only to harm my viewing pleasure when I finally say the movie. No movie could possibly live up to the sort of expectations I was creating. I realized that I wanted, that I needed to watch "Hero" with as clean a slate as possible. That was the only way I could judge the movie on its own merits, the only way I could possibly enjoy it. At that point, I made a conscious effort to ignore reviews and anything else that might ruin the movie for me.

However, now that I've seen "Hero", I realize my efforts were in vain. A movie this majestic could have easily withstood any amount of expectation on my part, and then some.

2000 years ago, China consisted of 7 kingdoms vying for dominance. The struggle lasted for many years, with the Qin kingdom eventually emerging as the most powerful. Its king, Yin-Zeng (Chen Diaoming) , plans to use his massive armies to conquer the other kingdoms and form one vast empire. Standing in his way are 3 powerful assassins from Zhao, a rival kingdom: Sky (Yen) , Flying Snow (Cheung) , and Broken Sword (Leung) .

Noone has been able to stop them, despite the king's generous bounties. Noone, that is, until a simple country official called Nameless (Li) arrives at the palace with their weapons. The king, impressed by the deed, invites Nameless to drink with him and tell his story. In a series of flashbacks, Nameless explains how he was able to divide and pit the warriors against eachother. Flying Snow and Broken Sword were lovers until Flying Snow had an affair with Sky. After defeating Sky, Nameless uses this to drive a wedge between the former lovers as their own passions and betrayals ultimately defeat them.

After Nameless has finished his story, the king pauses for a moment and suddenly begins telling a different story concerning the three assassins and their deaths. The events unfold again and again a la "Rashomon", each version revealing more about the 3 warriors and their loves, betrayals, and heroism. With each retelling, the truth becomes clearer, as do the motivations of the enigmatic Nameless.

I suppose some might accuse "Hero" of trying to cash in on the fame of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" (despite the fact that Yimou had started working on this movie years before "Crouching...") . To be honest, I was afraid of that as well, afraid that "Hero" might not be able to escape from under the other movie's shadow. But "Hero" is a totally different kind of movie. I would even go so far as to say that "Hero" shatters any "Crouching..." comparisons simply by being a much more satisfying film on nearly every level. As fine a film as "Crouching..." was, it never fully resonated with me. "Hero", on the other hand, left me reeling at times.

One thing that you'll immediately notice is Yimou's amazing use of color. Each flashback is cast in different colors to capture their moods (and also serve as a handy narrative tool) . Nameless' scenes are predominately dark and grey, so as to capture his ambiguity. His flashbacks are bathed in bloody reds and oranges to convey the savagery of betrayal and loss. Other flashbacks are filled with blue, green, and white, each scene as vivid and lovely as the last.

Such painterly composition creates many stunning and memorable shots, especially when rendered by Christopher Doyle's cinematography. The calligraphy school where Broken Sword and Flying Snow live in exile is bathed in crimson silk, as is everyone who walks it halls. A palace hall is filled with giant green silk curtains that ripple like waterfalls as the king and Broken Sword fight between them. Flying Snow's forest duel with Broken Sword's servant (Zhang Ziyi) is transformed into a whirlwind of gold and orange as the leaves whip across the screen at the behest of Flying Snow's blade.

However, Yimou isn't so bogged down in these carefully composed scenes that he can't pull off the film's bigger ones. The scenes involving the Qin army are staggering, as thousands of troops clad in black march in step, scramble up palace steps like an armada of beetles, or launch a volley of black arrows so thick it fills the sky. The only thing in recent memory that outdoes these scenes would be the Massive-generated armies of "The Two Towers". I can't think of any other recent movie that comes close.

You'll notice that I have yet to rave about "Hero"'s fight scenes, despite the fact that the film stars two of cinema's finest martial artists, Jet Li ("Kiss Of The Dragon", "Fist Of Legend") and Donnie Yen ("Blade II", "Iron Monkey") . I find it hard to separate out the film's martial arts content for discussion simply because Yimou has integrated it so well into the movie. However, I assure you it's as stunning as you could imagine. Li and Yen's battle, a blur of sword and spear, is easily on par with their duel in "Once Upon A Time China, Part 2", and that's just the first of 5 or 6 memorable sequences.

The action choreography, courtesy of Ching Siu-Tung ("Shaolin Soccer", "Duel To The Death") , is graceful beyond compare, and Yimou's camera captures it all with the same detail he shows everywhere else. The action is accented by tasteful wirework and hints of CGI which allow Broken Sword and Nameless to glide across the surface of a serene lake and Flying Snow to ward off hundreds of arrows with the fiery silk of her dress.

As visually stunning and downright cool as the fight scenes can be, it's their emotional and spiritual aspects that stuck with me long after the movie was over. At several points, Yimou goes inside the comabatants' heads, revealing the fights to be contests between minds as much as between swords. The movie cuts between the combatants' swift, deadly movements and their calm outer expressions as they test and probe eachother's skill. Combined with Yimou's use of slow motion and haunting music, these scenes take on a meditative air.

For all of "Hero"'s vivid colors and lush style, the motivations of its characters remain grey and murky up until the very end. This is best seen in the character of the king. At first, it's assumed he's a horrible tyrant who has become paranoid of his assassins. But as the movie nears its completion, that assumption is challenged as the king opens up to Nameless and learns more about his enemies. Diaoming delivers a solid performance as the king who would be emperor, one that continues to draw me in with each viewing.

Jet Li might come off as somewhat wooden but then again, he's playing a stoic, nameless warrior who has spent 10 years of his life perfecting his craft. Donnie Yen doesn't have too much screentime, but his martial arts skills ensure his appearance is charismatic. Zhang Ziyi turns in another fine performance, this time as the fiery young warrior devoted to Broken Sword. However, most of the movie's drama draws from Flying Snow and Broken Sword's tempestuous relationship.

I swear Maggie Cheung gets more and more gorgeous with each passing film. I initially saw her as Jackie Chan's mousy girlfriend in the "Police Story" movies. However, films such as "Ashes Of Time" and "In The Mood For Love" revealed a luminous onscreen presence. In "Hero", she might be at her most radiant, a proud warrior torn between love and her sense of revenge. Her feelings are buried beneath an icy exterior, but when they finally break through, it's heartrending.

It's strange seeing Tony Leung as a pained and tired swordsman here, but only because I recently watched him ham it up in "Chinese Odyssey 2002". However, Leung once again proves why he's one of my favorite actors working today. His is the movie's most textured and tragic character and he pulls it off without a hitch. I love watching his face, often stoic and proud. But with a simple glance, he can convey a tumult of emotions that lies just below the surface.

So is there anything negative to be said about "Hero"? Some might find its inexorable pace a bit too solemn, especially when augmented by Tan Dun's haunting score (which is a bit too close for comfort to that of "Crouching...") . Others might have issues with the dialog or the acting, which can be very formal and austere. Still some might find that "Hero" tries too hard to be visually stunning while the plot is left to stumble along as best it can. There may be some truth to all of these, but once the movie enters its final act and things finally start revealing themselves, the solemn pace and rich visuals are nothing short of gripping.

I can remember several times during the movie when I had to suppress a giggle or a big dopey grin. And there were probably more that I can't remember as I was likely lost in the movie at the time. I wasn't grinning because "Hero" is upbeat or because it suddenly tossed out a humorous scene or bit of dialog. Nothing of the sort happens at all during the film, which never once loses its solemn air. I was simply experiencing that all too rare sensation when a film meets and then completely exceeds every one of my expectations.

I've watched the entire movie several times and I've also put in the DVD simply to watch a particular scene again: to watch Broken Sword and Flying Snow confront the betrayal that destroyed their love; to watch Nameless battle his enemies with deadly grace; to watch the king realize the weight of his rule. Each time, I come away amazed at the power and beauty of this film. There's no doubt that "Hero" is a visually stunning film, but it's also a stirring tale of heroism and sacrifice, one that moves me everytime I experience even a part of it.

Normally, the words "Chow Yun-Fat" are all it takes to get me to watch a movie. The man is surely one of the best actors working today. With the success of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon", I only hope this gets people to check out Chow's considerable filmography. But they might be thrown for a loop with "Once A Thief". In his more prominent roles, Chow succeeds at playing the lone wolf, a guy with his own sense of honor... and displaying a considerable talent for unloading copious amounts of lead into his enemies.

But Joe, Chow's character in "Once A Thief" is quite a switch... the lovably misogynistic buffoon and carefree playboy. I guess when you're one of the world's best art thieves, you can get away with that. You see, Joe, along with Jim (Leslie Cheung) and Cherie (Cherie Chung) are world-class art thieves, raised that way since childhood by a cruel man who calls upon their talents to make a quick buck. Joe and Cherie have a "relationship", which mainly consists of him berating her and playing childish jokes on her. Well, it's hard to take it all too seriously, considering how much Chow yucks it up throughout the movie. Every gesture, every insult is exaggerated to the point of absurdity; it's almost hard to believe this is the same guy who played the stern, dignified Li Mu Bai in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon".

Anyways, back to the movie... during an art heist gone bad, Joe gets killed, leaving Jim and Cherie to fall in love. Seems Jim has been jealous of Joe all this time, because Cherie's quite the woman and Jim has been in love with her all this time. But Joe, for reasons unexplained, never actually died, and now he's back in a wheelchair. When Jim is asked to pull one more job, stealing the painting that caused Joe to get paralyzed in the first place, Joe has to try to rescue him. Meanwhile, Cherie stays behind and looks worried.

The last part of this film is nothing but silly, over the top action sequences as the baddies try to get their mitts on the painting. Of course, it turns out that the trio's patron has been a heartless bastard all this time, and he thinks nothing of offing his progeny to have his watercolor. I have to hand it to Woo... he certainly came up with some innovative ways for Jim and Joe to deal with their foes (my favorite being the exploding microwave and flaming basketball). It's relatively entertaining, especially watching Chow Yun-Fat go nuts and drop some kung fu... and his battle with the guy that throws exploding and flaming playing cards is quite nice. But that's not why you should watch this movie, if you feel so inclined.

Even if you don't particularly care for Woo's brand of cinema, you have to admit the man knows how to film his movies. The guy's a genius when it comes to capturing the mood, the motion, and the energy of a scene, and "Once A Thief" is perhaps the best example of this. The cinematography is almost perverse in just how beautiful and vivid the scenes all look. My personal favorite is the scene where Jim and Joe are sneaking around a castle at night, trying to steal a supposedly cursed painting; the scenes are painted in blues so thick and rich it's almost claustrophobic, and the use of smoke and moonlight is just icing on the cake. It almost makes up for the laser limbo scene immediately afterwards...

Chan and Biao are quite athletic, especially on a skateboard, and the final fight scene is quite a riot. Biao is quite the surprise there; his moves are so crazy and off the wall (literally) that they even give Chan a run for his money sometimes.

Unfortunately, you have to sit through lots of inane and possibly offensive humor, ranging from ethnic stereotyping to jabs at the mentally insane. Of course, being a Chan film, you really can't take anything seriously, but it's still all so incredibly inane and stupid sometimes.

For early 80's Chan, stick with stuff like "Project A" or "Police Story".

Take, for example, "The Prodigal Son". At first glance, it seems innocuous enough. Leung Chang (Yuen Biao) is widely recognized at the city's foremost kung fu expert. But the truth is that his rich father fixes all of his fights so that he doesn't get hurt. Naturally, this makes Chang the laughingstock of the area, though he's completely in the dark. Now, you might think that this film is heading straight towards the same sort of buffoonery that filled Jackie Chan's movies during his "Young Master" days.

However, things get slightly weird when Chang and his friends decide to attend a local Peking opera performance. One of his friends becomes enamored with the lead actress, and decides to make his move on her. Unfortunately for his libido, she turns out to be a man, who quickly makes short work of Chang and his pals. In an attempt to defend his honor, Chang challenges the man, Leung Yee-Tai, to a duel. Yee-Tai makes short work of Chang, revealing his kung fu for the lame joke that it is, and leaving Chang disgraced.

Determined to become a martial arts champion, Chang insists that Yee-Tai take him as his student. The actor refuses, so Chang gets his dad to buy the whole opera (talk about investing for your kid's future) so there's no way Chang can be refused. Yee-Tai grudgingly accepts Chang as his student, but still refuses to teach him any kung fu.

Yawn... so far, very little happens. Despite all of the comedic setup, there's very little laughworthy material. It's more goofy than anything else, what with the music that would make Sid and Marty Kroft green with envy and the overly effeminate Yee-Tai. In fact, you start to wonder if anything is going to happen at all. The opera journeys to another town and gets ready to perform. However, when Chang is mistaken for an actor who has been having an affair, things start to pick up. Yee-Tai makes short work of the angry husband and his goons, much to the interest of Lord Ngai, a local nobleman who has been looking for a worthy opponent.

Ngai invites the whole opera troupe to his house, hoping to challenge Yee-Tai to a match. In one of the film's finest kung fu sequences, Yee-Tai proves that he's more than a match for Ngai. However, he also reveals his asthma affliction. Being honorable, Ngai refuses to beat him. However, word of Yee-Tai makes it back to Ngai's father. Like Chang's father, he doesn't want any harm to come his son, and like all good fathers would do in his situation, he arranges to have whole opera troupe killed.

It's here when the film just goes out the window. The troupe is massacred in the middle of the night, a slaughter that's fairly graphic - women and children getting their throats slit (with nice matching sound effects), limbs getting shattered, and everything going up in flames. What makes it even more impacting is how unexpected it feels. Up until this point, the film had been fairly innocuous and frivolous, and then it just explodes into a bloody slaughter that literally smacks you upside the head and leaves you reeling.

But, just as suddenly, we're back to Goofyland. Yee-Tai and Chang escape into the countryside, where they shack in a farm. Conveniently, they just happen to be now living next door to Yee-Tai's brother, Wong (Sammo Hung). Compared to the effeminate Yee-Tai, Wong is blowhard and a buffoon who enjoys homosexual jokes about Yee-Tai, and who also just happens to be one heckuva calligrapher. After an initial misunderstanding (Wong's daughter thinks Chang is trying to sexually assault her, although Chang is merely going after a chicken - they must be in Southern China), an uneasy truce is struck.

Eventually, Yee-Tai and Wong begin to teach Chang kung fu (though both think the other's style is inferior). And there's still plenty of goofy humor (especially Wong's "taking a crap" style), and some patently crude humor (mostly at the expense of Yee-Tai, who is commonly referred to as a "fairy" and "faggot" by the boorish Wong). But Yee-Tai's asthma gets the best of him, and Chang is forced to return home so his master can heal up.

Unfortunately for Yee-Tai, Ngai is waiting for him, and his men still have orders to protect him at any cost. This leads to your always popular "you killed my master" final battle, which takes place at some conveniently located Mayan ruins. Like the opera massacre, the final battle is surprisingly brutal and savage (oozing wounds, split-open heads, and other goodies), and like the opera massacre, it comes out of nowhere... and it leaves you reeling.

By now, there's no way around it; "The Prodigal Son" is a bipolar movie. There's no other way to say it. One minute, you're groaning at the movie's lame/crude/bizarre/goofy humor, and the next you're peeking out between your fingers at the violence. I'm not sure if this sort of manic-depressive pacing was intentional or not, to keep the viewer off-balance, or if that's just the way it turned out. Whatever the case, its the movie's best feature, as well as its Achilles Heel.

Everything feels out of proportion, with such outrageous emotional swings. Unfortunately, there's nothing in the actual plot that keeps you riveted. Despite the film's best efforts, the plot feels incredibly hackneyed and cliched, right down the big final battle (a staple of martial arts cinema to be fair) which also feels anticlimactic. Ngai is innocent of Yee-Tai's death (it's his father's fault) but Chang insists on fighting him anywise; there is no major bade in this film.

On top of that, the performances are nothing outstanding, merely passable at best. Biao has never impressed me with his acting; he's an agile enough fellow, but he lacks the charisma necessary to carry off the film. It doesn't help matters when he's constantly upstaged by the rivalry between Yee-Tai and Wong, or the movie's huge mood swings.

"The Prodigal Son" has been called one of the most authentic martial arts movies of all time, and that might be true. There's certainly enough bloodshed and pain to go around for all involved; noone leaves a fight unscathed or unscratched. And there are impressive martial arts sequences sprinkled throughout the movie. But that doesn't save the film from its unsteady nature. Sure, it's worth watching just for the sheer delirium of it all. But between the inane gay jokes, slit throats, sexual double entendres involving poultry and portly girls, decapitations, the lost H.R. Pufnstuf soundtrack, and senseless beatings, just don't expect a any of it to make sense.

But at least you'll be able to claim you saw it... and that's worth something in my book.

Mr. Chow (Leung) and Mrs. Chan (Cheung) move into the same building on the same day. Their spouses are always absent; Mrs. Chow works late and Mr. Chan works abroad much of the time. Being neighbors, the two constantly encounter eachother and strike up a minor friendship. However, their relationship becomes more than tangential when they discover their spouses are having an affair together. This revelation leaves them shocked and hurt, and unable to confide in anyone else, they confide in eachother.

Soon, they're spending much of their free time together, trying to figure out how to confront their spouses. Naturally, they discover something within eachother that was missing from their marriages. However, bound by tradition and their own sense of honor, they're reluctant to act upon it. As such, their entire relationship develops in silence and half-shared glances. Rather than lapse into a passionate affair, their relationship is expressed in the slightest of terms; a glance or a simple brushing of hands conveys as much emotion, hurt, and longing as any passionate embrace.

And even when it appears as if things might intensify between them, the reality of the infidelity in their lives sets in. It could be a sudden memory of their spouse, or a moment spent practicing for the inevitable confrontation. And it is painful to watch; as wrong as it might be, there is a part of you that wishes they would get together, if only to ease their loneliness. It's hinted at in the final moments that, perhaps, they did just that. But the core of the film is this awkward intimacy of their's, which they fan and try to smother at the same time.

Even though they rarely talk to eachother, and rarely let their gazes meet, the longing in each scene is thick enough to cut with a knife. And Kar-Wai's direction lets the viewer experience it as well. Much of the movie is shot through doorways, hallways, windows, or with the couple obscured in some way. By distancing the viewer from the characters, it mirrors, in some way, the distance that exists between Chow and Chan. He lets the characters express their longing by gazing at eachother in the mirror. The fact that they can only smile at eachother's reflections, when captured by Kar-Wai, speaks volumes about their stifled love. At certain moments, he literally freezes the characters, and lets the camera drift over their faces, their bodies, and slowly through the room. Any sudden motion suddenly feels out of place, even wrong, in those preserved moments.

As beautiful as Kar-Wai's direction can be, it's matched stride for stride by the performances of Leung and Cheung. Their character's chemistry is palpable and intense, even though they can never express it. Leung is able to make something as small as a vacant stare and fill it with frustration and longing. Cheung is simply radiant. Although most might recognize her name from manic action films, her performance is refined and repressed. As tightly wound as she is, it makes any emotional outburst devastating.

"In The Mood For Love" is a trying picture to watch, and it does feel like it goes slightly longer than it should. And in keeping faithful to the story, and to his character's lives, there is no "happily ever after", no running into eachother's arms. Even though it's hinted that they finally consummate their passion, it's still treated as chastely as possible. For them, there really can be no real resolution. As deep and real as their love was, it doesn't fix their lives or heal their hearts. The final moments make it feel like the whole movie was more of a memory than anything else, a memory filtered through years of regret.

And If you've ever experienced unrequited love or ever wanted a relationship to exist so badly and yet knew that it never could, the feelings splashed across the screen hit remarkably close to the heart.

Early reports on the film drew comparisons between "Dolls" and "Magnolia" and though that's accurate in some respects - both films employ multiple, thematically-linked storylines - it's also quite misleading. "Dolls" is a very quiet, subtle film, a meditation on love gone wrong. Kitano tells a trio of stories here, two of which are embedded in the first. The film's core is the story of Sawako and Matsumoto, a young couple of Japanese lovers engaged to be married despite their poverty.

Things fall apart when Matsumoto is matched up with the daughter of his firm's owner. Though he initially resists the match, pointing to his prior engagement and the strength of his feelings for Sawako, he eventually yields to the pressure of his parents and the lure of a comfortable life. Matsumoto breaks his engagement with Sawako and enters into a new engagement with his boss' daughter. The morning of his wedding, two friends arrive at the ceremony, pull him aside, and tell him that Sawako has attempted suicide and is in the hospital.

Feeling horribly guilty, Matsumoto leaves his new bride at the altar and goes to the hospital to see Sawako, now catatonic in her grief. He discharges her from the hospital and makes it his mission in life to care for her even though this costs him his job. The two of them, now homeless, wander throughout the country, tied together at the waist to prevent Sawako from wandering off.

As the couple, now something of a folk legend called the Bound Beggars, moves through the country, Kitano cuts away to tell us the stories of other similarly tragic figures that they come across. The first is of an aging yakuza crime lord slowly coming to the realization that he threw away the best part of his life when he left the lover of his youth to go and make something of himself. Meanwhile, the lover returns weekly to the park where he left so long ago and waits for him to keep his promise and come back to her. The second story deals with a Japanese pop star who has survived a horrible car accident and now lives in seclusion so that nobody can see the damage done to her face, and the adult groupie who has spent years worshipping her from afar.

To say any more about the individual stories would be a disservice to the film, but they are truly haunting and beautiful.

"Dolls" is a bittersweet, tragic film. Though we're given absolutely minimal information on the characters, the performances are so strong and subtle that you have no problem believing one hundred percent that these are real people on the screen. Their pain is palpable, as are the bursts of hope and joy that flash throughout. The pacing, though much slower than what North American audiences are used to, is absolutely perfect and the visuals are simply stunning. This got a standing ovation when the closing credits rolled and absolutely deserved it.

I don't necessarily buy that, simply because such comparisons simply scratch the surface of both movies. I will say that "Magnolia" certainly resonated more with me as an individual. But "Yi Yi" left me cold many times throughout the picture. It's definitely a trying film to watch at times; Yang is very content to let the scenes speak for themselves, without feeling a need to use dialog. Many scenes are simple setups to let the characters' actions, or lack thereof, convey all of the emotions. Sometimes this approach works, but at other times it feels conspicuous and halting.

The movie also suffers because, to be honest, some of the stories simply are not interesting. At times, peripheral characters take over the film's focus, whereas it feels like more important, or at the very least, more interesting characters are forced into the background. The two most interesting characters, the family's daughter, Ting-Ting, and son, Yang Yang, often drop out of the film. However, I think the movie would've benefited greatly if had spent more time looking at the scenarios through their eyes.

One thing, however, is that "Yi Yi" is simply gorgeous to watch. At times, I was reminded of "The Scent Of Green Papaya", another slow-moving yet beautiful film. Both film's take great joy and peering into the ordinary and finding the beauty within. Yang seems very fond of shooting through windows, giving us a near-voyeuristic look at what's going inside. These shots are always gorgeous, with the reflections (usually of traffic and crowds of people) providing the tension in the scene.

But "Yi Yi"'s close attention to detail also makes for a film that is, well, a little trying at times. Even the most emotional scenes feel subdued simply because of the vast spaces between them. I feel like I should be "haunted" by this film, that it should be lodged in the back of my head as I try and figure out the significance of this scene or that scene. But that's not the case. I want to give this film another viewing, just to see if I missed anything. I'm willing to give Yang the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps that might change my opinion of "Yi Yi", but until then, my feelings will have to remain mixed.

The film follows Mark (Chow Yun-Fat) and Ho (Ti Lung). They're money counterfeiters, and quite good at it. However, Ho is torn when it comes to his brother Kit (Leslie Cheung), who is a cop and is ignorant of Ho's criminal life. During a botched deal, Ho is captured and sent to prison. During his time in prison, Mark and Kit's lives change dramatically. Mark gets wounded while trying to avenge Ho's capture and Kit cannot get promoted because of Ho's past. After he's released, Ho tries to go straight. Unfortunately, both Ho's old friends and his brother assume he's the same man, and Ho must eventually deal with his past and the repurcussions it's had.

The concepts of honor and loyalty that have become a Woo trademark are here in copious amounts, especially between Mark and Ho. Unfortunately, Woo always walks a fine line with his films. On the one hand, they are very emotional, and as such, can be extremely exciting and thrilling to watch. However, this often means his films become very melodramatic. Such is the case with "A Better Tomorrow". The ending is typical Woo, where honor and loyalty require great sacrifices, but the film often feels jarring along the way, lacking the smoothness and fluid feel that Woo's later films possessed in abundance. And though there are several violent gunfights, they lack the style and visual flair that Woo later developed into an artform. It feels like Woo was using this movie as a test run for his later works, and as such, it doesn't always gel.

Both Chow Yun-Fat and Ti Lung give incredible performances as friends who are ready to sacrifice everything for eachother, but even their performances can't pull all of the elements of this film together. Chow Yun-Fat has the best scene in the movie, when Ho comes back to see Mark after he's become a crippled beggar. It's the perfect example of why he's one of the best actors in the world today. If you're looking for the essential Woo films, watch "Hard Boiled" and "The Killer." But if you want to see how Woo's incredible style began and how much it has since matured, watch "A Better Tomorrow".

* - Come to think of it, the very first Woo movie I saw was "Broken Arrow", and though I enjoyed it, I don't think it counts.

On the surface, "Once Upon A Time In China" is about Wong Fei-Hung, a Chinese folk hero. Played quite easily by Jet Li, Fei-Hung comes across as a stern moral teacher who, more often than not, has his hands full with his troublesome pupils (who are the source of much of the movie's comedic antics). However, Fei-Hung finds that he has three much more serious problems. The first is a local gang that has been terrorizing the local populace. The second is a local kung fu master who challenges Fei-Hung so that he can become the local master. But the third, and much more insidious danger, are all of the outsiders and foreigners coming into China, especially the British and Americans who are carving up China for themselves.

To say there's a strong nationalist streak running through the movie would be an understatement. This movie practically revels in its Chinese-ness. But rather than coming off as xenophobic or jingoistic, you begin to sympathize with the Chinese. Their culture and nation are slowly being carved up, their people lured to foreign lands with the promise of gold and fortune, only to return nearly dead and penniless (if they make it back at all). Fei-Hung, being the strong moral man that he is, knows something has to change, but feels completely powerless to do so. He's afraid of a changing China, but realizes that it's completely inevitable. Li does an incredible job of conveying this struggle. Who says kung-fu actors can't act?!?

But remember, this is ultimately a kung fu movie, and a gorgeous one at that. I must say that this movie contains some of the most beautiful and striking images I've ever seen in a movie that boasts this much butt-kicking. In the opening sequence, Fei-Hung leads the local militia in morning exercises; watching a hundred men do perfectly executed kung fu against the sunrise and the ocean is sheer visual poetry. Hark's use of slow-motion, especially during fights in the middle of a thunderstorm, lends a surreal feel to it all. And his use of shadows and a single candle adds a whole new dimension to the film's romantic subplot, which involves Fei-Hung and his Aunt Yee (who's not really his aunt), played by Rosamund Kwan.

Okay, so the movie is beautiful to watch. What about the kung fu?!? Well, if you're not a fan of wire-enhanced kung fu mayhem, you might be a little put off by this one, because there are wires galore. Granted, it doesn't diminish Li's grace and power one bit, but some scenes look a little hokey, especially the final fight between Li and the local kung fu master, which takes place in a warehouse full of ladders. But Li's natural grace, combined with Hark's camerawork manages to make the hokiest kung fu move a visual delight.

This was the movie that rocketed Jet Li to stardom. He's second only to Jackie Chan in terms of popularity, and you can see why in this movie. He's a better actor than a lot of people probably give him credit for. This is probably the most serious role I've seen him in, next to "Fist Of Legend", and he pulls it off quite well. And I'm sure that the film's strong nationalist tendencies probably filled many of the original audience with more than just a little bit of pride. This movie has a lot going for it, what with Li's on-screen persona and Hark's skill behind the camera. Visually striking, combined with a great story and great acting, this is definitely one of the "premier" kung fu movies, and certainly deserves to be called an "epic" in the genre...

So I hope you'll understand my joy when I discovered that "The Killer" would be coming out on DVD again. Althought not with the Criterion Collection's super-duper deluxe treatment, I don't really care because I finally own one of the greatest action movies I've ever seen in a pristine, digital format.

In what may be arguably considered to be one of John Woo's greatest films (the other being "Hard Boiled"), Woo takes his themes of honor, duty, and friendship to incredible heights. And of course, there's Woo's trademark over-the-top, yet never gratuitous violence. In fact, Woo is the only director who can take blood spurting out of a fresh gunshot wound and somehow extract some sort of abstract beauty from it. Combatants, pistols in each hand, spin and pirouette like dancers packing heat; bodies flying through the air jerk and twitch as they're riddled with bullets; explosions fill the screen as cars explode and buildings are shot up. It's a wonder that it all doesn't become a muddled mess of blood and fire, but under Woo's guidance, it unfolds like an opera or one of the musicals that Woo was fascinated by as a child.

Chow Yun-Fat plays Jeffrey, the best hitman in the business. The only problem is that Jeffrey has a conscience. When he accidentally blinds a lounge singer during a hit, he takes it upon himself to watch over her. When he discovers that a costly operation is the only thing that can return her sight, he takes one last job. However, his employers are afraid that he has been discovered, and refuse to pay the fee, even sending other hitmen and Jeffrey's best friend against him. On top of that, Jeffrey has a cop, Li (played by Danny Lee), on his trail. But once Li discovers that Jeffrey actually operates under a code of honor, he finds himself siding with the hitman as the film reaches its conclusion.

Chow Yun-Fat is in peak form here, as he slides through each scene with more charisma and grace in his pinky than most of Hollywood's "leading men" have in their entire body. He's equally skilled at portraying the cold, efficient killer as well as the noble man pained by the consequences of his lifestyle. Although Danny Lee and Sally Yeh (who portrays Jenny, the singer Jeffrey wounds) do fine jobs as well, this is really Chow Yun-Fat's tour de force. The only actor who comes close to matching Chow Yun-Fat is Chu Kong, who plays Jeffrey's best friend and contact, Sydney. The scenes between Sydney and Jeffrey are all excellent, but Sydney's shining moment takes place when he tries to retrieve Jeffrey's money. Even after being beaten and humiliated, he refuses to back down, determined to remain faithful to his friend.

It's really impossible to take this film realistically, given the outrageous action sequences and gunfights. Each one becomes more outrageous than the one before, until it culminates in a violent bloodbath at a monastery. However, i found myself more intrigued by the little, less violent flourishes. Only Woo can take the act of picking up a pistol and make it look like a spiritual act. During the boat chase, when Li first crosses paths with Jeffrey, Woo intercuts scenes with a traditional dragon boat race. One second, you'll see the hitman and his police pursuers in modern speedboats. The next sees a hundred men rowing with all of their might, water churning and drums pounding out the rhythm of the scene. It sounds like a simple juxtaposition, but it adds a tension to the chase.

However, I think my favorite image in the movie takes place after a beachfront shootout. Jeffrey has rushed a little girl shot in the melee to the local hospital, with Li in hot pursuit. Jeffrey holds Li and his partner in gunpoint, waiting to see if the girl pulls through. Woo frames in close to the girl's still fingers - they look like the most delicate, fragile things in the world. We watch them twitch as the girl regains consciousness, and a gentle melody is heard. Woo cuts back to Jeffrey, and we watch this vicious killer, gun in hand, grin with relief. it's at that point that we know this is no ordinary hitman, but a man with nobility and honor. It's this theme of nobility and honor that underscores everything Woo does in "The Killer", and keeps the movie from being reduced to a violent bloodbath resorting to gratuitousness to be entertaining. That's what Hollywood is for.

I started the marathon off with a crappy martial arts film, so it seems only fitting that I close with a great one, albeit one that most people have probably never heard of. That's a real shame, because "The South Shaolin Master" is an unsung classic with excellent fight choreography and gorgeous cinematography (the Chinese countryside should be billed as a cast member). Lin Hai-Nan is a member of the Tai Ping, a resistance group fighting the corrupt rulers. Wounded in a fight, he's rescued by a traveling acting troupe that is being harassed by a local ruler. If you don't think the two are related, than you obviously haven't watched enough kung fu movies. Lin, now known as Ah Nan, and the acting troupe find themselves facing a common enemy, a magistrate named Ha Er-Ci. When their troupe is decimated by Ha, they seek refuge in a Shaolin monastery. There, Lin works on a killer technique to defeat Ha, which basically consists of strengthening his kneecaps for hours. If you think that sounds crazy, buy the DVD and see for yourself!

Filmed in mainland China without any big names, "The South Shaolin Master" seems to have slipped past most fans' radars. But it's a real treat, and a nice change of pace. The film is fairly dramatic, with only a handful of comedic moments when compared to some of the other, better known films from that time period ("Wheels On Meals", "Winners And Sinners"). The fights are also a joy to watch, combining some of the prop-based action you'd find in Jackie Chan's movies with more classical moves.

"The South Shaolin Master" also touches on the unique role that acrobatic troupes played in the preservation of Chinese martial arts. As the Shaolin temples found themselves under persecution from the government, they trained these troupes in kung fu. The troupes incorporated this training into their dancing and tumbling, ensuring its survival even as the government cracked down on the temples. This paved the way for the Peking Opera, out of which arose the kung fu cinema that we currently know and love.

The movie might seem a bit longer than its 96 minutes, especially if you're comparing it to the aforementioned movies (though I find it more rewarding). The film does drag during a long dragon boat race that just gets in the way of the serious whoop-ass you know is just around the corner. Even so, this is a true gem that has remained hidden for far too long. Hopefully more people will get a chance to check it out soon, especially considering the really nice DVD transfer that's currently available.

One such man, Hanshiro, appears at the gates of the honorable Iyi Clan's castle, asking that they provide him with the facilities necessary to commit harakiri. Although suspicious at first, since many other ronin in a similar situation have tried to blackmail the clan for some money or a new job, Hanshiro manages to convince them that he really does wish to commit harakiri. While waiting for the arrangements to be made, the head of the Clan recounts a similar story that took place earlier that year.

Another ronin, Chijiiwa, appeared at their gates with a request similar to Hanshiro's. But unlike Hanshiro, he lacked the resolve to go through with it. What's more, Chijiiwa's status as a samurai was even doubtful to begin with; he carried bamboo swords, something no true samurai would do. Ultimately, Chijiiwa is forced to commit harakiri in order to prove his honor, and in the film's most shocking scene, disembowels himself with his bamboo blade.

After Chijiiwa's story is done, Hanshiro prepares to go through with his ceremony. But before he does, he tells his story, one that is inextricably linked with Chijiiwa's. At first, it's the tale of a poor, clan-less warrior trying to eke out a life for himself, his daughter, and the son of his best friend. But soon, it becomes a scathing indictment of the cruelty and harshness of bushido, the samurai code of honor.

Although the samurai strive to be paragons of honor and virtue, compassion and mercy are beneath them, and they have nothing but contempt for those who don't match their lofty standards. But that contempt masks hypocrisy - samurai are still human after all, with all of the normal failings and weaknesses - and as Hanshiro's story comes to an end, the truth about the "honorable" Iyi Clan is revealed.

While perhaps not as recognizable as Toshiro Mifune, Tatsuya Nakadai was one of Japan's greatest samurai actors, appearing films like "Sword Of Doom", "Sanjuro", and "Samurai Rebellion". Nakadai absolutely owns "Harakiri" from beginning to end, delivering a riveting and gripping performance as Hanshiro. At first, he seems to be a common warrior looking to save face, but as the movie goes on, his aura grows deadlier and more menacing as he exposes the Iyi Clan for what it truly is.

Those expecting some crazy hack n' slash adventure like "Shogun Assassin" might be disappointed with "Harakiri". The film moves pretty fairly slowly at times, especially with the constant flashbacks, but it's not long before you find yourself totally drawn in. The dialog might seem too melodramatic at times, even silly, especially when characters praise the virtues of a proper disembowelment and debate the meaning of honor with flowery dialog and grim expressions. But that's the point. By comparing such scenes with the samurais' cold and callous actions, it exposes their hypocrisy. It's hard to call someone honorable when they compliment a man for using the proper disembowelment technique while, in the next room, his sickly child lay dying.

The film inevitably marches towards a final showdown, and all of the tension and bitterness just explodes in the movie's final 15 minutes or so. Again, Nakadai is just amazing to watch. There's a steely glint in his eyes that's riveting, and when he marches towards his opponents, with his arms crossed across his chest and katana ready to strike... well, let's just say his foe(s) are going to need some clean drawers... if their heads are still attached to their bodies, that is.

"Harakiri" may not be as famous as Kurosawa and Mifune's samurai pictures, but it's a great one nonetheless, well worth the time spent seeking it out (I'd love to see this reissued on DVD). While films like Mifune's "Samurai" trilogy espouse the glories of bushido and how it can help a cruel, base man find honor and decency, "Harakiri" exposes bushido's dark side. "Harakiri"'s samurai are not noble men. Rather, they are men who follow bushido instead of their conscience, instead of their heart. Their sense of honor is nothing more than a veneer, a way to justify dishonorable, and even evil actions. The film's final scene chillingly drives home that idea. There is no happy ending, but simply a warning against the evil that can be done, all in the name of honor and righteousness.

Angela Lee's performance as Mun, the woman tortured with these visions, is first-rate and really anchors the film. Her portrayal of a woman coming to terms with sight is striking and very touching. I think what I like best about it is her naiveté. Because of her blindness, she has no idea what things look like. Therefore, when she sees stuff that would scare the bejeezers out of normal people, she reacts with curiosity, assuming this is just one more thing to get used to as a seeing person. But when she is scared, her trembling hands and wide-eyed look are a little too eerie for comfort.

There's a greater feeling of tragedy and sorrow running throughout "The Eye" than "The Sixth Sense" (itself a fairly somber film). This becomes very clear as we learn more about Ling, the tortured young woman who stands at the center of everything. As the audience and Mun begin to understand Ling's cursed life, especially her troubled childhood, it grows very sobering without ever seeming manipulative or forced.

As with "Bangkok Dangerous" (the Pang's previous film), what really distinguishes "The Eye" is its style. The film's stunning cinematography, editing, and direction, combined with outstanding effects, ensure that the film always remains riveting.

The visual effects are great - especially during Mun's many frightening visions, such as when she wakes up to find her bedroom slowly morphing into someone else's - but what really got me the second time around was the movie's sound. Since Mun has been blind most of her life, she's lived in a world dominated by sound, and the directors work this angle to the hilt. Every subtle noise, be it a footstep, a door swooshing open, or air rushing through a vent, could very well mean something very ominous.

These all combine to create a film that manages to stand on its own merit, rather than get written off as a "Sixth Sense" knock-off (unless you want to get really nitpicky). The Pangs know how to create loads of atmosphere, and there are some genuinely creepy sequences (you won't look at elevators the same way, I guarantee). Once again, the duo prove themselves capable of taking what should be an unoriginal story and injecting it with fresh life and an unexpected twist or two. Enough so that successive viewings still yield something new and interesting.

Wada, A harried Japanese businessman is sent to a remote Chinese village to investigate a jade mine, along with a surly yakuza member named Ujiie (this is a Miike film, after all) and their slightly addled guide, Shen. As they make their way to the village, leaving the modern world behind, they find themselves drawn to the simpler, quieter life and into a mystery surrounding a young girl who is teaching the village children how to fly.

Miike's not above putting messages in his films - even his more outrageous titles might deal with some issues - and this time around it's a commentary on the modern world and it's tendency to rob life of its spice and vigor, as well as its potential for corruption. For Wada and Ujiie, the trip to the village represents, both literally and figuratively, a trip back to their roots, to a more basic and fulfilling existence that is far removed from the materialism, wealth, and power represented by urban living.

Unlike the Miike films you may know and love, The Bird People In China keeps it subtle and understated throughout, with only the occasional quirkiness thrown in (i.e. the turtle-powered raft the characters use to make it across a flooded river). And once they make it to the village, it's easy to understand why the characters would become so enamored with it. The Chinese landscape, as captured by award-winning cinematographer Hideo Yamamoto, is absolutely breathtaking.

There are a few moments when the emotional gist of the film falls a bit flat, especially concerning the transformation of Ujiie. At times, the film becomes too understated for its own good, resulting in moments that should be slightly more emphatic emotionally not quite having the heft they could've had. However, it's quite refreshing to see that Miike is quite capable of a gentler touch, of producing something quite unlike the more sadistic stuff that has the entire cult film world in love with him. Even with its flaws, The Bird People In China is downright heart-tugging compared to Miike's usual fare.

Jet Li places Ling, a swordsman whose only desires in life are to spend the rest of his life in seclusion with his fellow swordsmen, and drink lots of wine. But that's all foiled when he and his cohorts get drawn into a power struggle within the Sun Moon Sect. The old leader has been ousted, and in his place is Asia The Invincible (played by Brigitte Lin). But Asia is hungry for power, and so consults an ancient scroll for supernatural strength. Happy-go-lucky Ling is forced to fight Asia and his ninja forces, but Asia's increasing strength soon becomes insurmountable. And to top it all off, Ling finds himself falling love with the tyrant.

Oh wait a minute... I think I forgot to mention that in order for Asia to become all-powerful, he needed to castrate himself and undergo a process where he slowly transforms into a woman. Did I forget to mention that? Well, silly me.

That's just an example of what I'm talking about with this film. I don't mind the "thrill a minute" approach that HK films take. But this film... this film throws so much at you it's nearly impossible to take in. And then just when it starts getting good, the movie hits a brick wall and we're subjected to painful dialog, silly hijinks, and incomprehensible plot twists. It could be due to the atrocious subtitles, but I spent way too much of this movie trying to put two and two together.

It also didn't help the film too much that it didn't have a strong focal character. You'd think it'd be Ling, since Li is easily the biggest star in the picture, but a considerable amount of time is spent on peripheral characters that really don't matter to the film. Even the supposed "romance" between Ling and Asia feels woefully underdeveloped. The few scenes that occur between them never establish anything but the most basic of relationships.

Now, I suppose I should back up and say that this film did have some incredibly cool sequences. Any film with attacks like "Sword Energy", "Recoiling Whip", or "Bomb Sword" has some merit. Where else do you get to see a horse cut in half by a ninja? And you can never get enough of heroines who shoot snakes out of their sleeves, and control them with a whistle. My favorite sequences are those involving Asia's supernatural powers, as s/he obliterates her rivals; bodies explode, blood spurts everywhere, and Hong Kong proves that you don't need fancy special effects to create an eerie atmosphere for sorcery. But even such effective and interesting flourishes can't keep the film from being a mess.

I think I made a mistake when I bought this film. It was the first Jet Li film I ever watched, and I think it may very well have spoiled all of his other films for me. "Fist Of Legend" is, without a doubt, one of the best kung fu films I've ever seen, for various reasons. One, and perhaps most importantly, the martial arts action is incredibly fast, precise, and dazzling (courtesy of Yuen Woo-Ping). Two, it's actually a film, with a cohesive plot and credible acting, rather than mere lines of dialog meant to fill up the spaces between fights.

Technically, this is a remake of Bruce Lee's "Chinese Connection." Li plays the title character, Chen Zhen, a Chinese student studying in Japan. Upon dispatching a group of bullies with incredible ease, he learns his master has been killed in a match with a Japanese master, Akutagawa. Returning home, he quickly takes care of Akutagawa and discovers that his master was actually killed by poison. Framed for the murder of Akutagawa, he is saved only when his Japanese girlfriend testifies on his behalf. Unable to stay in his school due to his girlfriend being Japanese, and unwilling to leave the woman behind, he is forced to fight his best friend and leave the school. Eventually, he and his best friend must reconcile their differences and face the Japanese together.

Alright, so it sounds cliched, but it works so well in this film. The acting is well-done, and Li gives a pretty good performance. He manages to convey the emotions of a man torn between his school and his master's honor, and the woman he must take care of. Although the film has a pretty serious, dramatic tone (which is also a bit of switch from most kung fu films, which border on slapstick many times), Li is up to it. Unlike Jackie Chan, who lovably hams it up for the camera in most of his films, Li has an edge to him and his screen presence is undeniable.

"But let's get to the most important part," you say. As I said before, the martial arts in this film are among some of the best I've ever seen. Li is incredibly quick and fast. Unlike Jackie Chan, who is at his best when mixing in slapstick humor between the punches, Li is precise and serious. The opening fight scene with the nationalists only whets your appetite for what is to follow. Especially fun to watch is the fight between Chen Zhen and his girlfriend's uncle, who has come to test Zhen's abilities, and the long final fight sequence never gets tiresome. The pacing of the film is excellent too, so that when a fight occurs, it feels natural within the flow of the film. And if you're not a fan of the wire tricks that are prevalent in Li's other films, don't worry; they're kept to a minimum here.

The only real complaint I have is the music, which sounds like it belongs on the 6 o'clock news rather than a kung fu flick, but that's just me. Shoot, forget I wrote that. If you consider yourself a martial arts fan in the slightest, you'll need to see this film. But like I said, it's spoiled every other Li film I've seen up to date. Granted, the guy's got a pretty sizable catalog, but this one leaves a pretty big shadow for his other films to stand in. I only hope that they release this on DVD soon, because I may very well wear out my VHS copy.

If you're curious as to how "Fist Of Legend" holds up to "Chinese Connection," I'll have to be honest. I like "Fist Of Legend" a lot better. Granted, "Chinese Connection" has Bruce Lee's legendary presence. However, I think "Fist Of Legend" just works better as a movie, and I find it's one of the few martial arts movies I can watch repeatedly without it getting tiresome and predictable.

Just a little trivia: Yuen Woo-Ping (Iron Monkey) also choreographed all of the martial arts in "The Matrix." After watching "Fist Of Legend," the Wachowski brothers (who wrote and directed "The Matrix," and who are also big kung fu/Hong Kong fans themselves) decided that they needed to bring Woo-Ping onboard.

However, the question still remains - why do I like Asian films as much as I do? And I think the basic answer is still the same as it was back when I first discovered the movies of Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and John Woo. I watch Asian films because I get to see things - be it action scenes, storylines, characters, etc. - that I would never see, in a million years, from a Hollywood film. In short, I like Asian cinema because of films like OldBoy.

OldBoy has been receiving a fair amount of buzz, due to the praise showered on it by pundits like Harry Knowles (who named it his 2nd favorite movie of 2003) and to it's strong showing at this year's Cannes Film Festival (where it received second place honors). However, I highly doubt that this film will make it to American shores. It's probably too raw and uncompromising in its depiction of vengeance and human depravity, far too intelligent to paint such things in mere black and white terms, and far too sympathetic in portraying its characters as damaged, tragically flawed people rather than as simple "heroes" and "villains".

In a plot that feels lifted from a Kafka novel (actually, it's based on Tsuchiya Garon's manga), Oh Daesu is returning home on his daughter's birthday when he suddenly wakes up in a dingy room that will serve as his prison for the next 15 years. Unable to escape and denied even the ability to kill himself (everytime he tries, his unknown captors intervene), Daesu begins to lose every shred of what makes him human. His only companion is a television set, which keeps him abreast of world events (and informs him that his wife has been murdered and that he's the main suspect). With everything stripped away, he becomes obsessed with just one thing - trying to figure out who did this to him, tracking them down, and killing them.

And then, just as suddenly as he was imprisoned, Daesu is released back into the real world, more a beast than a human being (he even refers to himself as "Monster"). While trying to figure out where to start on his "roaring rampage of revenge" (to borrow a Tarantino-ism), his captor makes the first move, beginning a game of cat and mouse that has Daesu running against the clock and through his youth to unravel just why he was imprisoned, and perhaps more importantly, why he was released.

Altogether, OldBoy is easily writer/director Park Chan-Wook's most accomplished, stylish, and brutal film to date (at least, of those widely accessible on non-Korean shores). While his previous films, Joint Security Area (a gripping film about the friendship between South and North Korean soldiers that launched Park into the limelight) and Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance (a similarly-themed film about a kidnapping that goes horribly, horribly wrong) were both good in their own ways, OldBoy is in a completely different league.

Park has often been compared to David Fincher, and OldBoy does bear some similarities to Fincher's style. The plot is somewhat reminiscent of The Game, and there are certain stylistic flourishes that are similar to Fight Club (one scene in particular reminds me of Fight Club's IKEA apartment scene). And of course, there's the unrelentingly dark tone of the film. However, Park isn't merely cribbing from some hip director, and OldBoy contains some truly stunning scenes.

In particular, the movie's portrayal of violence is quite jarring. During his imprisonment, Daesu resorts to shadowboxing and watching matches on the TV. When he is released, he finds these skills serve him quite well in the real world. Indeed, his ability to absorb pain seems almost superhuman, and Daesu absorbs a lot of punishment.

In one of the movie's most breathtaking scenes, Daesu takes on a group of thugs in a cramped hallway. Shot in one, continuous tracking shot, Daesu and the gang go at it, and as the camera refuses to cut away, it becomes that much more torturous and draining to watch. This is a far cry from the hyperstylized bloodshed of the Kill Bill movies. Violence is never depicted as a thrilling thing, but as a necessary thing for Daesu, if only because that's all he has left. Make no mistake... OldBoy is a harsh movie, but the physical violence is nothing compared to the emotional violence and wretchedness that ensues.

There is one other thing that Park has that Fincher doesn't - the acting of Choi Min-Sik (Failan, Shiri). There are strong performances from all of the primary cast - Yu Ji-Tae (Ditto, Attack The Gas Station!) actually makes Daesu's haughty captor a tragic figure at times, and Kang Hye-Jeong (Nabi) is appropriately fragile as Mido, the young woman inexplicably drawn to Daesu - but this is first and foremost Choi's movie (for which he won top acting honors at Cannes 2004).

His performance is simultaneously riveting and revolting. Not just in the things that he does (such as devouring a live octopus), but in the whole persona he projects. It's almost frightening to think of what he might have tapped into to get into character, but when Daesu is released from prison, you are convinced you're looking at a beast dressed up in a black suit and sunglasses.

When he first appears as "Monster", there's an intensity in his character that could make a whole squadron of Green Berets wet themselves. However, Daesu transforms before our eyes as the movie progresses, becoming at times heroic and pathetic, pitiful and repulsive. I was truly struck by Min-Sik's incredible performance in one of the final scenes, when Daesu finally realizes what's been going on and is reduced to grovelling at his captor's feet - it's one of the most gutwrenching scenes I've watched all year. In all honesty, I can only think of one or two Hollywood actors who would dare push themselves to those limits, who would even be able to imagine conjuring up that sort of intensity.

However, OldBoy isn't perfect. Park frontloads the movie quite a bit, such that when all is said and revealed, the final twists seem a bit underwhelming (though executed quite nicely). But even having said that, you probably won't see a more intense film this year (if you own an all-region player, that is). Much has been made of the film's bleakness (though I personally found it far more engaging than Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance), and some have even called the film sadistic, saying that Park merely seems to want to inflict as much misery and revulsion on the audience as possible.

But as I look back on the film, I find myself thinking how easily this movie's story could've come from a Shakespeare play, or even (at the risk of sounding sacreligious) the Bible. There's something rather Old Testament-y about this story to me, with its portrayal of vengeance, depravity, and forgiveness (or what happens when forgiveness is absent). However, I think that what might get stuck in most people's craw is how Park refuses to condemn or condone his characters.

Even the movie's antagonist is given a moment of tragedy, without being sappy or writing off the horrible things he's done. And Daesu is never portrayed in a blameless light, despite being the film's "hero". Whenever Daesu gets a chance to lash out at his captors, it isn't with an adrenaline rush but rather a sad sigh that things seemed almost fated to turn out this way. Early in the movie, Daesu wonders if he'll ever be able to leave the "Monster" behind. But by the movie's end, Daesu has lost a part of himself, literally and figuratively.

In the end, I'd be tempted to go so far as to say that Park actually, truly cares about his characters, even the worst of them, and in doing so, reveals that they may not be as far removed from us "real" people as we'd like to think. We all have beasts lying just below our skin, just waiting to go on a "roaring rampage of revenge" of our own, for something to set us off. True, we might not take on a whole gang with nothing more than a hammer, but we do have our limits - and when pushed past them, something will snap and we'll all become monsters in our own right.

The Yang family is widely known for their loyalty to the Emperor. However, their name is disgraced when they are double-crossed by the rival Pan Mei, their family destroyed and branded as traitors by the real traitor. Only two brothers survive, Yang #5 (Liu) and Yang #6 (Sheng). #6 is driven mad by the brutality he's witnessed. #5 escapes the battlefield, but is chased by the Mongols with whom Pan Mei has joined forces.

Eventually, he comes to a Buddhist temple and decides to become a monk. However, the monks see that he is a still a violent man bent on avenging his family's honor, and refuse him entry. The brother stubbornly insists, and eventually resorts to violence to gain entry. This sets up the movie's most interesting facet, as #5 struggles to reconcile his life as a monk with his life as a soldier.

#5 proves to be the temple's best fighter, but is not allowed to practice with any of the other monks because of his skills. However, this isolation just drives his talents and increases his anger. No matter how much he tries to control his rage, it's never enough. The monks constantly ask him to leave, but he violently refuses, believing this is the only way to improve his life. However, even the monks display a bit of hypocrisy. They claim that it's unimportant who or what a man was before he comes to a temple, but they refuse to accept him and help him.

The only monk who reaches out to #5 journeys to the Yangs to bring them news of their lost son. However he is captured before he can return, and kills himself before revealing anything to the Mongols. But before his death, he reveals to the Yangs where #5 is located, and the eldest Yang daughter sets out to find her brother. However, Mei's forces soon capture her. News reaches the temple, and #5 sets out to rescue his sister and finally avenge his family's honor.

By now, it's evident that #5 cannot be saved from his true nature. Although he had started to learn control and discipline in the monastery, the news of his sister's capture drives him back to the life of a soldier he had tried to hard to forsake. This leads to the movie's huge finale, as #5 and his sister take on the Mongol hordes with nothing but a couple of bamboo staffs. Although the film is fairly violent and dark, that mood is doubled in the final fight, as people are impaled, stabbed, get their teeth pulled out, and are thrown headfirst through coffins.

The movie does have its flaws; compared to the slick productions that many HK films are these days, it does look pretty amateurish, and it certainly can get tedious if you're looking for some instant kung fu action. The set designs are pretty basic, the fight choreography - which is butchered at times by the movie's fullscreen aspect - is nothing really flashy, with the exception of a handful of scenes (like the aforementioned finale), and the dialog is certainly lacking in poetic flair.

It's easy to see how this movie might slip under most kung fu fans' radar. It's a fairly bleak film, with no humor to lighten the mood at any time (if you want that, get something by Jackie Chan); I doubt even the dubbing, that punchline of all kung fu cinema jokes, can't be played for yucks. It's all drama and conflict, and it does lend itself to fairly melodramatic scenes (especially those involving #6 and his insanity, which are played to the hilt by Fu Sheng). Still, the central conflict, that of a man struggling between the two sides of his nature, unable to reconcile his violence and rage with the desire to be free of such things, shouldn't be ignored.

DVD SPECS:
Like most of these old kung fu movies being released on DVD, the movie is presented in fullscreen. This doesn't hurt the movie too much, although there is some ghost dialog when the speaker is off the screen's edge. Where the fullscreen really hurts the movie is, naturally, during the fight scenes. There's a tremendous pole fight between #5 and the abbot, but much of its intricacy and acrobatics are lost from the aspect ratio.

The film is also dubbed, which isn't nearly as annoying as it is in other dubbed films. #6's ranting and raving can get a little bothersome (which is a shame, since he's one of the film's truly tragic characters); thankfully, his appearances are few and far between.

As far as extras, there isn't much. There's biographical info and filmographies provided for Liu, Sheng, and the director, as well as a stills gallery.

I suppose I could spend most of this review raving on and on about "Versus"' style, its insane action sequences, ultra-sweet overacting, and some of the best gore this side of "Evil Dead II". And while all of those definitely contributed to my enjoyment of this movie, I'd have to say my favorite moment of the movie occurred when my friends who hate kung fu movies insisted I show it to their friends. For me, someone who always has to defend the movies I watch from constant jokes, this was a real thrill. And leave it to a movie that's nothing more than an excuse for guys with big guns and even bigger swords to hack apart armies of zombies. Not even "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" has anything on that.

Now that I've got that out of the way, let me rave about the insane action sequences, ultra-sweet overacting, and gore. If there was ever an argument for style over substance, "Versus" would be it. Or better yet, style as substance. Everything in this movie is composed to make it all look as cool and hip as possible. And by "cool", I mean in that ultra-hip manner that only Asian movies, and that rare non-Asian (yet Asian-inpsired) movie ("The Matrix", "Bladerunner") seem capable of pulling off.

Have I mentioned yet that this movie oozes and drips cool?!?

The film's story (if you can call it that) goes something like this. Two prisoners, one of whom is our hero (and the only character with a name - KSC2-303) have just escaped into the forest, where they await some gangsters to help them. But the gangsters have their own orders, which involve capturing KSC2-303 and a strange girl, for purposes unknown. Things start to go wrong when he demands they release the girl. The situation gets even worse when he handily shoots a hole in the chest of the the man holding the girl (thus establishing his bad-assness). And everything hits the fan when the guy he just killed gets back up and starts handing out zombie punishment to everyone.

In the ensuing confusion, KSC2-303 and the girl escape into the forest. After clearing up their little zombie problem, the gangsters give chase. It's only then that they realize this is the forest where they bury all of their victims. Thankfully, they realize this just in time for all of the zombies appear (many fully-armed). Pretty soon, the screen is full of flying zombie heads, torsoes, and entrails.

On a sidenote, it was about this time that I began giggling like a little schoolgirl.

After dispatching the zombies (with, I might add, enough panache to make Bruce Campbell sick with envy) and meeting up with the rest of their troop, the gangsters find themselves facing our villain. How do we know he's the villain? Well, he does rip a guy's heart out and eat it. I'd say that's pretty villainous. And just what does he want with KSC2-303 and the girl? Well, it turns out that there are 666 portals to the other side, and the forest they're in (aka The Forest Of Resurrection) is the 444th. In order the open a portal, unlock a doorway, or whatever it is that villains do in a Forest Of Resurrection, he needs the girl's blood. And KSC2-303? Oh, he's your standard issue "warrior of destiny" who is, well, destined to fight our villain.

At first, KSC2-303 could care less. But when the villain starts sending his undead hordes to capture the two of them, he starts to think there might be something to all of this. Of course, the movie is pretty predictable. The villain captures the girl. He explains his grand plan. KSC2-303 comes back from the dead (Oh, did I forget to mention he gets killed?) and takes on the villain in one of the greatest and coolest "final showdowns" of all time.

Now, everything you read in the previous 5 paragraphs really doesn't matter, because you're not going to be watching this film for character development or intense drama. Rather, you're going to watch this movie for insaner-than-insane action sequences (whoever did the choreography on this movie deserves a serious pat on the back, and an armload of awards), delightfully gory zombie fun that would make Sam Raimi wince with jealousy, and enough cool style (camerawork, special effects, cinematography, music, costumes) to make even the Wachowski Brothers a little green in the face.

I mean, where else are you going to find a movie that spends 5 minutes filming a group of gangsters as they exit their car, capturing every single angle and pose, often in slow-motion for the added "coolness" factor? The movie heaps on so much style that it's just cartoonish. There's the fact that KSC2-303 can't move without his trenchcoat flapping dramatically the wind, and everyone always seems to strike the perfect "don't screw with me pose" everytime the camera hits them. And for good measure, it throws in plenty of overacting (the knife-loving gangleader is a collective fave) and a sly wink or two (the fact that everyone keeps pulling bigger and bigger guns out of their pants), as if to constantly remind the audience that they should just sit back and enjoy the film.

After all, it's obvious that everyone who made this film enjoyed themselves. There's something incredibly carefree, and very ambitious about "Versus". It's like every single anime, manga, Hong Kong, and kung fu cliche boiled down to their bare essence, mixed with a gallon of pure adrenaline, and injected straight into the heart. What else could explain the fact that KSC2-303 goes traipsing about the forest with a big .50 calibre sniper rifle in one hand and an even bigger katana in the other?

A lot of movies get compared to "The Matrix", but here, the comparison is actually justified. Both movies have very similar influences and styles. But it's worth noting that "Versus" achieved all of its style with nary a CGI trick and with a fraction of the budget. It's also worth noting that, for many of the people involved (the director included), "Versus" was their first film. Rather than seem amateurish, however, "Versus" boasts action and thrills that many bloated Hollywood action movies would give half their budget for.

The movie isn't without its flaws. It does run a bit too long, by about 20-30 minutes. In all honesty, trimming out some of the posing or slow-motion wouldn't have hurt the film. Better yet, the whole suplot concerning KSC2-303's pursuers could've been removed, with no harm done (though we'd lose some sweet death scenes). Actually, if I had to remove anything, it would be that whole twist ending, which adds nothing to the movie.

In the end, however, those are really trivial. All I know is that my friends loved this movie almost as much as I did. Better yet, they were friends who wouldn't normally touch any sort of martial arts-related movie with a 10 foot pole. And yet here they were, enjoying the heck out of it.

If you give me the chance, I could go on and on about "Versus" until I'm blue in the face, but it won't sell the movie as well as my friends' excitement and laughter. Most would dismiss "Versus" as mindless action or sickening gore, and that may very well be the case. Actually, that is the case. But I think it's great, and if you don't trust my opinion, I have my friends backing me up this time...

I recently read a rumor that a double disc "Special Edition" might be coming out in the near future. Personally, I hope so and I hope this film gets a wider release. It's the sort of film that action fans have been waiting for... but only if you like samurais, zombies, big buckets of gore and fake guts, and tons of cool.

"The Hitman", Li's last Hong Kong production before being exposed to American audiences in "Lethal Weapon 4", has surpassed both "My Father Is A Hero" and "The Bodyguard From Beijing" on my list, though it's still a distant second to "Fist Of Legend". Li plays Fu, a poor, inept hitman trying to make it big so he can build his mother a big house and provide for her. One day, he hears about a big job that could solve all of his financial problems. An anonymouse hitman/vigilante ("The Killing Angel") has been striking criminals throughout the city. His latest target was a wealthy Japanese businessman. However, before he was killed, the businessman set up a fund to pay $100,000,000 to anyone who was able to kill his killer.

Fu tries to join the hunt, but is unable to get into the hitman conferences. That's when he meets Nor (Eric Tsang), a shifty man who serves as Fu's agent and sets him up in the hitman underworld. Meanwhile, a detective (Simon Yam) is carefully monitoring all of this hitman, hoping to crack the case and find "The Killing Angel". Fu and Nor get closer and closer to the "Killing Angel", as well as the murdered businessman's grandson, who is intent on avenging his grandfather's death, and Nor's daughter, Kiki (Gigi Leung), who is sick of her father's criminal ways.

The real magic of the film is the chemistry between Fu and Nor. Taking Fu under his tutelage, he shows the inexperienced Fu the ropes, wowing him with flashy talk and clothes. The other high point of the movie is its cheeky lampooning of hitman movies in general. The best example of this is when Nor takes Fu to get some clean suits - Fu tries on various outfits, including Chow Yun-Fat's outfit from "The Killer" (complete with toothpick) and Jean Reno's outfit from "The Professional" (complete with potted plant). There are other nice jabs at John Woo's films and trademark shots (such as slow motion), but they're done with tongue firmly planted in cheek.

Li also does a great job throughout the entire film, playing Fu as a charming, if somewhat bumbling hitman who really has no stomach for killing. However, it's Tsang that really shines, especially in scenes involving his daughter, where he must atone for neglecting her as a child in order to become a successful criminal. But throughout most of the movie, he serves as comedic relief, and you can tell he really enjoys this role and hams it up for the camera.

Action-wise, the movie is pretty good. There were less martial arts than I was hoping for, though Li is as fast and precise as always. I'm always amazed by how smooth and quick this guy is. There are no scenes that just blow me away, but there's plenty of solid action (especially Li's fight with a fellow hitman in an elevator shaft).

I wouldn't call this one a "must-see", but if you have a chance to see it, and would like to see more of Jet Li, you certainly can't go wrong. The film has a very professional, high budget feel to it, even if they reuse some footage throughout the film. Of all of the films I've seen, this is the closest Jet Li has come to doing a Jackie Chan kind of film. I don't say that to compare the two, because they both certainly stand on their own merits. However, it does have a Chan-esque blend of action and humor, as well as plenty of humorous jabs at hitman and Hong Kong movies in general.

But nothing compares to the final battle. Oh sure, the final battle is always where everything fecal hits the fan. But again, that's doubly so with "Butterfly And Sword". You get a eunuch wielding a claw-like device that would make Wolverine feel inadequate, more human arrow action, a man able to turn his opponents into human pincushions (complete with tiny geysers of blood), and my favorite, soccer ball kung fu capable of crushing human skulls.

And think of what I left out from the rest of the movie. You get a fight in a bamboo forest that puts the one in "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" to shame. Yeah, "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" had Zhang Zi-Yi, but I bet you didn't see anyone get impaled on bamboo stalks with their own swords. There's Michelle Yeoh's character, who can turn her clothing into deadly weapons, a la the monk's attack in "Iron Monkey". Oh yeah, and let's not forget the headless corpse that keeps fighting, despite being, well, a headless corpse.

I bet you're feeling a little overwhelmed with all of those ideas. Well, that's nothing compared to actually seeing it take place in front of your eyes. And I'm pretty sure there's a lot that I missed. I'm not sure, but I think there was a period of 20-30 minutes where my mind shut down, most likely due to some sort of built-in self-defense mechanism. Any plot or character development gets buried alive underneath all of the action and dizzy editing (which, I assume, was done with help of copious amounts of crack). And the fact that the subtitles ran by at about warp factor 5 didn't help too much, either. From the few subtitles I was able to read, and with the help of brief synopsis on the DVD, this is what I gathered.

The "Happy Forest" martial arts school has been asked by Eunuch Tsao to destroy his rival, Eunuch Li, and his school, "Elite Villas". "Happy Forest" is led by Sister Ko (Yeoh), who sends Meng Sing Wan (Leung) to infiltrate "Elite Villas". This doesn't sit well with Butterfly, Sing's beloved. Meanwhile, Wan's brother, Yip Cheung (Yen) loves Sister Ko, but Sister Ko loves Wan. While infiltrating Elite Villas, Wan finds his longlost sister, Ho Ching, who has infiltrated Elite Villas as its leader's concubine. When Wan finds evidence of Elite Villas' conspiracy, Yip, Ko, and Wan utilize those creative killing methods that I mentioned earlier and deal with Elite Villas. However, they soon have to deal with treachery from within, as well as their romantic triangle.

Sound confusing? Probably. But whatever it was that you just read makes a whole lot more sense than whatever it was that I just watched.

What kind of film could cause such varying reactions? Well, to start off, "Battle Royale" is not a film for every taste. In fact, I'm surprised the film has even been shown outside of Japan, or even made for that matter. Lord knows that certain special interests and political groups would go out of their way to kill this movie if an American studio conceived it. In light of tragedies like Columbine, and even current events, it's no wonder that American distributors won't even touch this movie.

Describe the concept of the film to most people, and you'll immediately see shock that a movie like this even exists. Based upon Koshun Takami's novel, "Battle Royale" is set in a future where Japan has become a boiling pot of unrest. The unemployment rate's up, the economy is horrible, and students around the nation are boycotting school. Hoping to put some discipline and fear back into the youth, the government passes the "Battle Royale Act". At random, a 9th grade class is chosen from among the nation's schools and sent to a deserted island. There, they must fight it out amongst themselves until one remains.

The 42 students of the latest class wake up in an abandoned classroom, mysterious collars around their necks. Their old teacher, Kitano, walks in and explains the situation. Their first reaction is disbelief. That disbelief turns to horror when Kitano wheels out the bloody corpse of their teacher. It gets even worse as a video - which, in spite of the circumstances, is darkly humorous - explains the game's simple rules.

The students have 3 days to hunt each other down. If there is more than one survivor after 3 days, everyone dies. Each student is given a survival pack and a weapon. In order to even the odds, some students are given guns and knives, while others are given less deadly items such as pot lids. After the video, Kitano shows the deadly purpose of the collars. Not only do they track the students, they also contain explosives, which Kitano demonstrates when he detonates one, with predictably messy results. And then, the game begins.

Some students go along with game, figuring that it's "survival of the fittest" or just desperate to return to their previous lives. Some, in a noble act, refuse to take any part in the game; some refuse weapons, whereas one young couple jumps into the sea. Still others band together, determined to survive and take the fight to the adults who have forced them into this. Some kill because they've been called losers their whole lives and they finally found a way to stick out. Some students are transfers, survivors of previous years who come back under mysterious reasons or for a cheap thrill.

In the midst of this madness, the normal pitfalls of high school still exist. Kids develop crushes, cliques are just as prevalent, and normal rivalries suddenly have deadly consequences. It's the attention to these characters - all bloodshed aside, they're just your normal, average teenagers with normal, average teenage experiences - that give this film a surprising emotional power. There are moments when these teens, essentially discarded by their society, react with moments of love, friendship and mercy. In other words, the very qualities the government claims they lack. This is especially true of the movie's main characters, a cute-as-buttons couple of teenagers named Nanahara and Noriko. Watching them try to survive while falling for each other... well, it gives you hope that something good might come out of this madness.

On the other hand, many scenes are just as startling and brutal.

Two in particular tore me apart. In the first scene, two girls attempt to gather the students together, calling everyone from a hilltop with a megaphone. In one sense, it's almost silly and even a bit hopeful. But that's shot to hell when Kiriyama, one of the transfers, follows their voices and guns them down. Before finishing them off, he holds the megaphone to one of the dying girls, allowing everyone in the surrounding countryside to hear her dying moans.

The second finds a group of girls holed up in a lighthouse. When one of the girls accidentally poisons another, fears lying just below the surface surge to the top. The girls turn on each other, killing everyone except the poisoner. Horrified at what she's done, she throws herself from the lighthouse onto the rocks below.

And those are just two.

As you can see, it's impossible not to talk about the film's violence, some of it very bloody. 9th graders get shot, impaled, decapitated, and castrated... by other 9th graders. It's not comfortable to watch, and making it even more difficult is how uncertain it all is. The movie never takes sides, which means that you never know who's next. Even the closest of friends could turn on each other at any moment.

I know many that would probably find this movie repugnant, and yet have no problem watching any of Schwarzeneggar's movies, or teen slashers like "Scream" and "Final Destination". However, those movies let you off the hook. They never force you to invest in the characters, in their dilemmas. "Battle Royale" is not a mindless action movie (even though I listed it as "Action/Adventure"). It is not an adrenaline rush. You care about these characters. You might even see yourself in some of them. And watching their innocence taken away in the name of society's benefit is perhaps the most difficult thing of all.

It's interesting (and perhaps necessary) to understand the director's vision with a film like this. Kinji Fukasaku was in 9th grade himself during World War II. His class was assigned to work in a munitions factory, and in the war's final days, to dispose of corpses. In the midst of that wretched duty, he came to realize that everything adults had told him concerning the war had been a lie, a lie he had no part of and yet was forced to accept guilt for. That sentiment, that sense of betrayal resonates throughout the film.

After I watch a film like this, I try to figure out its value, whether or not it was worth my time. Whether or not it was worth subjecting myself to rather, um, extreme filmmaking. Yes, I do that so I can defend it against friends and family, but also so that I can hopefully spread the word to other who might find it valuable as well. Whatever the case, the struggle is there. But I've come to believe that the very existence of that struggle implies value. If a film (or any work of art) forces you to wrestle with it, if it sticks with you for any extended period of time, there must be something there. And in that regard, I think "Battle Royale" has value.

But what if, at the same time, the movie also hits you on a deep, emotional level? What if, in the midst of a movie that most would gladly ban, you saw something that moves you, almost to the point of tears? Something that redeems whatever controversial contents the movie might have? What then? Well, my friend, then you've got a truly great film on your hands.

Kubozuka plays Sugihara, who seems just like any other Japanese high school student, except for one thing - he's actually Korean. Which means discrimination and disparagement, not only from any Japanese who finds out his secret, but also from his former Korean classmates when he transfers to a Japanese school.

Things start to look up when he meets a young woman named Sakurai (Kou Shibasaki, who looks much sweeter here than in Battle Royale, where she played the murderous Mitsuko). She finds him inexplicably fascinating, and her quirky behavior begins to lighten Sugihara's mood. However, he's scared to tell her the truth about himself, for fear that she'll reject him like all of the others. And making matters even worse, his parents have problems of their own. His father is a gruff old man whose solution to all of Sugihara's problems is beating him senseless (that way, others will feel sorry for him) and his flighty mother barely seems able to handle her job as a waitress.

Of course, this all puts Sugihara under intense strain. Until Sakurai comes on the scene, his only release came in the form of the boxing his father taught him as a kid, which comes in handy from time to time as bullies constantly try to test his skills. However, when violence threatens to break out following the death of one of his Korean friends (and likely his only real friend) at the hands of a Japanese student, it further drives home Sugihara's sense of disassociation and lostness.

Kubozuka is incredible to watch throughout the movie. In the opening scene, Sugihara is in the middle of a basketball game when, tired of ceaseless taunts, he takes on both his teammates and their rivals singlehandedly. And when Sugihara finally reveals his secret to Sakurai, it's done in such a pained and honest manner that you can't help but be concerned for this young man who is this close to going over the edge. Kobuzuka never plays Sugihara in such a manner that he comes off as a mere bad-ass, a spiky-haired rebel without a clue. He's a fully three-dimensional character, and his struggles with identity and violence are entirely believable as a result.

Matching Kubozuka's intensity and energy is that of director Isao Yukisada. Working on a script by Kankurô Kudô (who also wrote Ping Pong), Yukisada fills Go's first half with all manner of seemingly MTV-inspired stylisms - crazy camera angles, driving music, hyperactive editing, and even a surreal flourish or two (in one scene, Sugihara runs so fast that he takes off into the sky). However, the second half of the film settles into a much slower rhythm, and it's here the movie's depth really becomes apparent. Characters grow more rounded, relationships are fleshed out, and it's here that you really start believing in Sugihara and his plight.

Whereas the first half of the movie seems primarily designed to appeal to and attract high school students weaned on music videos, the second half makes a marked shift into melodrama. So much so that when a shift occurs back towards the first half's somewhat quirkier tone (Sugihara and his dad decide to settle their differences with a boxing match in the park, in a brightly-lit sandbox, with their cab driver serving as referee), it feels out of place.

I don't pretend to know a lot about Japanese society. However, the articles I have read often bring up the nation's homogeneity, which obviously creates a very specific and strong sense of identity - nationally, culturally, and ethnically. It doesn't take a real stretch of the imagination to see how this could breed a certain amount of, shall we say, disdain - and perhaps even doubly so for "impostors" like Sugihara.

All around, Go (which has the distinction of being the first joint Japanese/South Korean production) makes for an entertaining and poignant look at this issue. It never gets heavy-handed or didactic - when the issue is directly addressed, it feels completely natural thanks to Kobuzuka - nor does it simply pay them lip service and settle for being a hip, cool film. Sugihara's struggles feel wholly real and believable, which makes the film's final scenes of reconciliation all the more rewarding and powerful.

But to be honest, I can see where they're coming from. If you get the right Jackie Chan movie, like "Drunken Master 2" or "Supercop", it's a wonderful way to spend a couple of hours. Jackie is like a human slinky, getting in and out of predicaments without breaking a sweat, taking on dozens of opponents with no more that his fancy footwork and a few handy props. But if you get the wrong Jackie Chan movie, even diehard fans will be wincing before it's halfway over. "Police Force" is somewhere between the two extremes. It contains some of Jackie's most insane stunts and martial artistry. But it also contains plenty of cheese and schlock.

Jackie plays a police officer named Kevin Chan. Assigned to capture a drug dealer named Ku, he starts the movie off with a bang - a downhill carchase through a housing development. In the process, he captures Ku's secretary, Selena (Brigitte Lin). The twist comes when he is assigned to protect Selena before she is called to witness in Ku's trial. Of course, Ku can't have that so he sends his thugs to dispatch Lin. On top of that, Kevin must deal with his girlfriend, May (Maggie Cheung), who is not to pleased at the idea of Kevin watching over Selena. Of course, Jackie hams it up for the camera, getting into embarrassing situations and generally making a fool of himself in the process.

However, the movie's final third takes a darker twist when Kevin is accused of killing a fellow officer. Wanted by both the police and Ku's men, the movie escalates until the final confrontation in a shopping mall. Now, let me just say this: if you're watching "Police Story" and start to get a little frustrated, just be patient because you shall be rewarded. The fight in the shopping mall gets extremely vicious. Jackie's comedic persona disappears and it becomes an all-out brawl, complete with Jackie's trademark stuntwork.

There are several scenes that just make me wince. Watching Jackie fall over balcony, crash through a wooden lattice, and hit the concrete floor (I even think he bounces) is painful to watch. But to watch him get up and shrug it off... I tip my hat to the man. This is Jackie at his finest, doing things that ordinary people like you and me would never dream of doing. Just be patient, my friend. "Police Force" can be painful to watch at times, especially if you're not used to Jackie's humor. But just be patient, because Jackie makes it all worthwhile in the end. And noone, not even his biggest detractors, can contest that.

While it certainly has one eye focused squarely on the conventions of samurai (chambara) cinema, it also has one eye focused on modern audiences. As such, the movie is an exciting and eminently enjoyable postmodern pastiche of classic Japanese film archetypes and MTV-generation style and wit. And what's perhaps most amazing is that it's done so in a way that's both very respectful of the former and highly accessible for the latter.

The plot is simple enough. A ronin (masterless samurai) named Kazamatsuri has stolen the ceremonial sword of the Inukai clan. Without that sword, a gift from the Shogun, the clan stands to lose quite a bit of honor, and might even be dissolved (or worse). Frantic, the clan orders a replica to be made, in hopes of fooling the Shogun. However, the son of a clan official, Heishiro, is appalled by the clan's course of action, and vows to kill Kazamatsuri and retrieve the sword. With his two childhood friends in tow, the brash young samurai heads off in pursuit of the ronin.

But when he finally encounters Kazamatsuri, he's completely unprepared for the man's incredible skill. Only the chance intervention of another samurai, Mizoguchi, saves his life, but not before one of his friends is killed and the other sorely wounded. Unable to return home due to his own injuries, he is forced to stay with Mizoguchi until he heals.

Meanwhile, Kazamatsuri has arrived at a nearby town and falls in with one of the local gangs. The leader, an ambitious woman named Okatsu (played with considerable flair by Mari Natsuki) is quite taken by the mysterious and deadly swordsman, and hopes to entice him into helping her expand her territory.

Although he finds himself drawn to Mizoguchi's idyllic, peaceful life (and falling in love with Mizoguchi's daughter, the lovely and gentle Koharu), Heishiro still feels dutybound to track down Kazamatsuri and kill him. Much to his surprise and chagrin, Mizoguchi refuses to help him and even threatens to stop him, claiming that violence and death will solve nothing. Nevertheless, Heishiro is determined to bring back the sword. When he learns of Kazamatsuri's whereabouts, Mizoguchi steps in, even though it threatens to draw him back into a violent lifestyle he left behind long ago.

Now admittedly, those last few sentences put a somewhat ominous spin on the film. But Samurai Fiction is not a dark film by any means. The word "parody" gets thrown around quite a bit when describing Samurai Fiction, but it's a parody in the way that a film like Galaxy Quest (yes, I am referring to the Tim Allen film) is a parody of "Star Trek". Both contain a certain tongue in cheek-ness, and certainly poke fun at their targets, but it's obvious that both are loving tributes made by genuine fans.

In the case of Samurai Fiction, writer/director Hiroyuki Nakano obviously brings out all of the best things about samurai cinema, while also putting a hipper, more modern spin on it for younger audiences. A much greater emphasis is placed on concepts of peace and harmony, represented by the Obi-Wan Kenobi-esque Mizoguchi, who tries to show the impetuous Heishiro a better path through life. This is contrasted with the cold, merciless Kazamatsuri, who seems to grow even colder and more malevolent as he entertains more worldly pursuits during the film's course.

Nakano, who got his start directing music videos, brings quite a bit of visual flair to the movie, which certainly ups the "cool" and "funky" factors. For starters, it features some striking black and white cinematography, an homage to classic samurai cinema like the films of Akira Kurosawa (of whom Nakano is a fan). But he also uses color in small, but impactful ways - such as using sudden flashes of red whenever someone is killed. Nakano resists doing any crazy editing (he reserved that for the disasterous Red Shadow), but he occasionally throws in a visual trick or two, and always to great effect.

Nakano also knows his way around a camera, and as such, Samurai Fiction is full of gorgeous shots, especially some amazing crane shots. In one of the movie's most beautiful and well-choreographed scenes, the camera follows two ninja sent by the Inukai clan to dispose of Kazamatsuri as they scale a seaside cliff. The camera moves up the cliff to track alongside Kazamatsuri as he strolls across the cliff, up and over, and finally settles behind him in a shot of the ocean. It's a beautifully smooth shot, and one I love watching every single time.

Cast-wise, the film is excellent. Mitsuru Fukikoshi is great as the brash yet naive Heishiro (his facial expressions and pratfalls are superb), Tomoyasu Hotei projects the right amount of badass-ness as Kazamatsuri, and Morio Kazama has some wonderful scenes as the learned Mizoguchi. Likewise, the supporting players are all uniformly excellent, from Tamaki Ogawa as the beautiful Koharu to Mari Natsuki's conniving Okatsu to Hiroshi Kanbe as Okatsu's bumbling righthand man, Gosuke. And there are a whole cast of memorable extras and cameos to boot.

And adding a nice bit of anachronistic flair to the movie is Tomoyasu Hotei's score. Hotei is one of Japan's most famous rock musicians (you might've heard his song, "Battle Without Honor Or Humanity", in the Kill Bill, Volume 1 trailer), and his score ranges from searing metal guitar solos to acoustic folk, from funky dance numbers to pastoral electronic pieces. There are moments when the music does seem a touch out of place (I don't immediately think of hot guitar riffs when I see samurai drawing their katanas), but more often than not, it's unexpectedness does lend a very "funky" vibe to the film.

My first exposure to Nakano came through the aforementioned Red Shadow, which was an absolute mess, to put it kindly. It follows along the same lines of Samurai Fiction, that being a postmodern reworking of Japanese cinema (in this case, involving ninjas) with a decidedly more modern and peaceful bent. However, Red Shadow went too far overboard into parody, such that it's only redeeming qualities are the presence of Masanobu Ando (Adrenaline Drive, Battle Royale) and the lovely Megumi Okina (Ju-on) in the lead roles.

However, with Samurai Fiction, Nakano got it completely right, striking the perfect blend of parody and homage, fluff and depth. Samurai Fiction can be enjoyed as just an offbeat and stylish samurai movie, but there is a bit more beneath the surface. Unfortunately, after such a promising start, it looks like Nakano's career has been taking a slight nosedive. Hopefully, he can pull out of it soon, and get back to making films as effortlessly entertaining as this one.

First up was The Terrorist, an Indian film about a suicide bomber who starts having second thoughts about her mission. Of course, given the current world situation, the film's premise feels rather appropriate, and even prescient given that it was made in 1999. However, rather than a political "message" film or espianoge thriller like I was expecting, The Terrorist is actually a very moody, atmospheric character study.

Those looking for political intrigue will probably be disappointed, as the film practically eschews the politics of the situation altogether. Instead, it focuses almost exclusively on the internal agonies and stresses that Malli, the young woman selected for the mission, undergoes. Although Malli has been a terrorist ever since she was a little girl, it doesn't seem that her world's violence and bloodshed begins affecting her until she steps outside of her "sheltered" existence.

Posing as an agricultural student, she stays with a local farmer named Vasu while preparing for her mission. Although Vasu is a talkative old coot who seems to be in love with his own voice, he is also filled with a love for life and nature. This, combined with his concern for Malli (he treats her more like a daughter than a houseguest) and his comatose wife, begins to chip away at Malli's black and white outlook and opens her eyes to the world around her. However, the final twist comes when Malli discovers that she's pregnant. Before, she was willing to throw away her life for the cause, but what about the life of her unborn child?

As I've said, this is not a political thriller. There's very little exposition throughout the movie, or at least it feels that way. Instead, the director loves to show us long, langorous shots of Malli as she wrestles, internally, with her mission. The film has style and atmosphere to spare, its camerawork reminiscent of Hong Kong cinema at times - the opening scene, where Malli executes a traitor, could've been lifted from a Johnnie To movie - and I got a major Wong Kar-Wai vibe at times.

I was also reminded of the few Iranian films I've seen, mainly due to film's meditative pacing and gorgeous, affecting images. One especially affecting shot finds Malli, dressed in a white gown for her suicide run, caressing her belly (and her unborn child) - only to then strap on the explosive belt. And the film's final shot, which could've been taken from any Majid Majidi film, is a powerful image - though those looking for all of the loose ends and intrigues to be tied up will probably leave disappointed or just plain perplexed.

There are times when the film could use a bit more exposition. As lovely as Ayesha Dharker (Malli) is, one can only take so much her staring pensively into the camera as the rain washes down her thick black hair. However, the film does pack a considerable punch. And given today's rhetoric-filled climate, as political leaders on all sides bluster and rant, the film's final, evocative image is as powerful a statement on war as I've ever seen.

If you're at all familiar with Korean cinema (currently, one of the world's great treasure troves of fine drama and action pieces), Nabi might come as a bit of a shock, for a few reasons. For starters, its storyline and execution has more in common with certain European arthouse directors, specifically Krzysztof Kieslowski, than it does with any of Moon's countrymen.

Set in the not-to-distant future (sometime after 2001 to be precise), Nabi tells the story of Anna Kim (Kim Ho-Jung), a Korean woman who has lived in Germany for most of her life. Tormented by something painful in her past, she has returned to Korea to catch the so-called "Oblivion Virus" that is sweeping the country, erasing the memories of those who come in contact with it.

Because it's next to impossible to know where the virus might strike next, an entire "tourism" industry has sprung up around helping people find it. "Tourists" hire guides to lead them to the location of the next outbreak, a la Tarkovsky's Stalker, which is announced by the presence of white butterflies, (hence the movie's title). Upon her arrival, Anna meets up with her guide, a teenager named Yuki (Kang Hae-Jung), and Yuki's driver, a sullen man who goes by K (Kim Hyun Sung).

Although the film has a rather dystopic, possibly even post-apocalyptic setting (the city is awash with acid rain and suffers from an epidemic of lead poisoning), Moon wisely avoids making this some sort of Blade Runner-esque sci-fi piece. There is little, if any, technical discussion about the virus, how it works, or where it came from. In fact, Moon seems completely unconcerned with any technical details whatsoever. Instead, he focuses solely on the relationships between his three main characters, all of whom are broken and lonely individuals.

Anna is obviously so, running away from a painful past and willing to throw her entire life away in hopes of starting over. K grew up in an orphanage and doesn't know his family or his real name. He spends all day driving around town in his cab, hoping that some fare might recognize his baby photo on the dashboard. Of the three, Yuki seems to be the only bright spot, but she's also 7 months pregnant, and the life of a guide is obviously taking its toll on her and the unborn child.

Of course, nothing goes according the plan. Everytime they draw near to the virus' location, something goes wrong, forcing Anna to spend more time than she would like with this motley crew. In shades reminiscent of Kieslowski's wonderful Blue, Anna slowly finds herself getting drawn from her shell as she finds herself taking care of, and getting cared for by, Yuki, and later, K. As much as Anna would prefer to remain a loner and throw away her memory, she can't help but be drawn to Yuki's plight, and to the hope that the young girl might somehow avoid the same tragedies that have befallen her.

Korean cinema is well-known for its drama. Noone, it seems, does it better these days. But go into Nabi expecting the typical melodramatic situations and overwrought conclusions, and you'll probably be disappointed. The film has a very disjointed, even awkward feel to it, punctuated by long stretches of silence and impassive faces, and although the film does manage to wrap up some loose ends, it leaves just as many open and ambiguous.

Korean cinema is also well-known for its gorgeous and glossy visuals. Nabi boasts a very distinctive visual style that's more in the neighborhood of Wong Kar-Wai (particularly Fallen Angels and Chungking Express) than any of Moon's fellow Korean directors. Originally shot on DV and then converted to film, Nabi's look lands somewhere between a documentary and home video, lending the film an incredible immediacy.

While some might decry DV for lacking the richness of film proper, Moon captures some stunning imagery with his camera, most of it involving water somehow. In one amazing scene, Anna, Yuki, and other tourists cavort in the hotel swimming pool. The underater shots are simply breathtaking, and the DV look only adds to their surrealism. When the characters have to give eachother showers to cleanse the effects of acid rain, the scenes have a surprising intimacy that in the hands of a lesser director would be solely prurient. And the film's climax, when Yuki gives birth in the ocean with Anna and K's help, etches itself in your memory, the trio struggling in the waves while the harsh light of sunrise surrounds them.

After spending several days diving headfirst into various chopsocky, kung fu, and samurai films - many of which were completely over the top in ways that only Asian film can be - I really needed something with more depth, something contemplative and substantial that I could lose myself in. Nabi filled the bill quite nicely. While certainly unconventional and obtuse any way you look at it, it still does a wonderful job of drawing you into its haunting visuals, and more importantly, into the tragic lives of its characters at that crucial moment when hope and renewal become a possibility.

Although certainly no Donnie Yen or Jet Li, Rongguang's a very competent onscreen fighter, as anyone whose seen Iron Monkey can attest, thanks to his Peking Opera training. However, he's also very capable when it comes to delivering a serious, non-kung fu performance (such as the duty-bound Yuan general in Musa). What's more, he's also a pretty decent-looking chap (in addition to being an actor, he's also worked as a model). Considering all of this, it's a shame the man hasn't been able to get more roles, and more significant roles, than he has up to this point.

In all honesty, I probably never would've rented Deadend Of Besiegers if Rongguang hadn't been the leading actor. Although I was somewhat swayed by the film's supposed "classic" status, it was the chance to see Rongguang in a prominent role that tipped the scales in the movie's favor. And while it's no Iron Monkey (but then again, what is?), Deadend Of Besiegers is still a very entertaining and engaging, if somewhat dated, kung fu flick.

Rongguang plays Wuwechimatao, one of Japan's greatest warriors. After he's defeated by a European boxer (a loss made all the more shameful by the fact that the guy looks and acts like a bad Shakespearean actor), Wuwechimatao travels to China in order to study new martials styles and improve his skills. But when he arrives, he discovers to his chagrin that the ship he boarded is actually a Japanese pirate vessel intent on - surprise - looting and pillaging.

During the pirates' late-night raid, he manages to elude his dastardly countrymen and rescue a young girl from their clutches, only to accidentally kill one of the villagers before finally escaping. The next day, while trying to figure out how to return to Japan, he befriends Xiao, the young girl he saved the night before. Immediately sensing, in the way that only children in movies can, that Wuwechimatao isn't a bad guy at all, she decides to help him and hides him away until he can figure things out.

At this point, I should mention that normally, I'm opposed to little kid hijinks in kung fu movies on general principle (anyone who wonders why need only see New Legend Of Shaolin). But Wuwechimatao and Xiao's relationship is actually one of the movie's best aspects. Much of that has to do with the young actress who plays Xiao with considerable feistiness and spirit. There's some great chemistry between her and Rongguang's Wuwechimatao, resulting in some pretty cute and funny scenes (such as when she tries to teach Wuwechimatao Chinese and ends up resorting to swear words).

While trying to escape from the pirates and the villagers, Wuwechimatao encountered Cui Gu (Cynthia Khan), a lovely woman skilled in the "Dog's Fist" style of kung fu. Hoping to learn the style to add to his repertoire, Wuwechimatao convinces Xiao to take him to Cui Gu - who just so happens to be her older sister. Although reluctant at first, believing him to be one of the Japanese pirates, Cui Gu eventually consents - much to the chagrin of her fiance, who is the son of the villager Wuwechimatao accidentally killed.

Meanwhile, the Japanese pirates are planning to somehow make it into the village and steal its valuable treasure. Although one of the villagers is helping them, their plots are foiled at every turn by Cui Gu and Wuwechimatao, whom the pirates had believed to be dead. The pirates, however, plan one final assault during the upcoming festival. Despite their hatred and distrust of him because of his nationality, the villagers soon find themselves relying on Wuwechimatao to help them destroy the pirates once and for all.

One of the most intriguing aspects of Deadend Of Besiegers is the way that it handles its Japanese/Chinese relationships. The Chinese view the Japanese as thieves and rogues, while the Japanese opinion of the Chinese isn't much better. It isn't surprising that Wuwechimatao's Chinese cohorts have a hard time coming around, even when he takes great pains to prove that his intentions are honorable. A good portion of the movie is spent with the Chinese characters trying to overcome their fear and mistrust. Although the movie, being an action comedy, certainly doesn't delve too deeply into the socio-politics of the situation, it does add some welcome depth to the film.

And I was pleasantly surprised by the fairly chaste manner in which the film handles the burgeoning relationship between Wuwechimatao and the betrothed Cui Gu. While there are some romantic interludes between the two, as well as a little sexual humor, the movie wisely doesn't dwell on that stuff, nor does it become too melodramatic or prurient.

After all, most people aren't going to watch Deadend Of Besiegers for commentary or romance, but rather for action, pure and simple. And Deadend Of Besiegers delivers quite nicely in that department. Filmed in 1992, before wires became de rigueur for any and all kung fu movies, Deadend Of Besiegers has plenty of unadulterated martial arts action (although there is some wirework and film trickery to help the characters look even more bad-assed). Parts of the film do look rather dated (it is over 10 years old), and the action is certainly not as frenzied as, say, a Yuen Woo-Ping film, but it's still enjoyable (and it's worth noting that Rongguang was also one of the film's action choreographers, and does a decent job).

Add to all of this some stunning cinematography, courtesy of the Chinese countryside, and some great cultural elements, like the colorful village festivals the occur throughout the film, and Deadend Of Besiegers makes for a pretty solid flick if you're looking to score a bit of kung fu action some evening. If you haven't seen a Rongguang flick before, then start with Iron Monkey or My Father Is A Hero. If you have seen those flicks, and found yourself wondering about that Rongguang fella, you could certainly do a lot worse than Deadend Of Besiegers.

You could watch Supercop 2.

The first thing to realize about Giant Monsters is that it effectively takes the Godzilla franchise and wipes the slate clean. Within the first 15 minutes or so, it sidesteps everything that's happened within the Godzilla franchise since the first movie - as far as this movie is concerned, all of the bajillion other Godzilla movies never happened. In and of itself, that doesn't matter too much - most Godzilla movies were pretty self-contained and contradictory with eachother to begin with - and it does allow the filmmakers to bring some interesting elements into the story.

It's been nearly 50 years since Godzilla demolished Japan, and as far as most people are concerned, the big green guy is just an urban legend. New York thought they were attacked by Godzilla a few years back, but it turns out the Americans were mistaken (in a nice little dig at Roland Emmerich's 1998 version). Still, some in the military are concerned about a future attack, and when an American nuclear submarine is attacked and left with what looks like giant claw marks, it looks like their concern might be warranted.

Soon, strange earthquakes and catastrophes begin happening up all over Japan. Monsters seem to be popping up everywhere, and soon, even the skeptics are convinced Godzilla is coming back for a second helping. This first part of the film is surprisingly engaging, and I actually found myself somewhat on the edge of my seat (a first in my kaiju viewing) as the film jumped all over Japan, building up the mystery of just what exactly is behind all of the destruction.

Following the trail of disasters, and attempting to piece it all together, is Yuri Tachibana (Chiharu Nîyama), a gutsy reporter for BS Digital Q, a tabloid TV station. Although she works for a network that makes up fantastic news stories, Tachibana really wants to be a legitimate reporter, and she sees this developing story as her one shot at the primetime.

Sure enough, Godzilla soon makes his grand appearance, and immediately starts levelling every single cardboard set he comes in contact with. And to make matters worse, there are other monsters on their way too. But as Tachibana continues her investigation, she discovers something incredible. These other monsters are actually Japan's defenders, and they're awakening from their long slumber to face Godzilla's threat.

That's right, the big green guy is a villain once again. Over the years, Godzilla had evolved into a sort of cult hero, defending the Land Of The Rising Sun from numerous enemies including smog monsters and alien invaders. But in keeping with the original film, he's once again a bad guy, and he's once again a metaphor of war and violence.

The original Godzilla movie was, in some ways, an attempt by the Japanese to come to terms with the horrors of atomic warfare, being the only people to experience such a thing firsthand. With Giant Monsters, Godzilla is once again a spectre of war. With the help of some pseudo-scientific/pseudo-mystical mumbo-jumbo that is cobbled together faster than you can say "Mechagodzilla", Yuri realizes that Godzilla is actually a collection of all of the souls that suffered from Japan's aggression during World War 2. And because the Japanese people have chosen to forget their past sins, Godzilla has risen to jog their memories once again.

The only thing standing between Japan and annihilation are its Guardian Monsters: King Ghidorah (a 3-headed, lightning-breathing dragon), Mothra (a giant moth - go figure), and Baragon (which resembles a cross between a rhinoceros, a gecko, and a chihuahua - no wonder he's so surly). Oh yeah, and there's also the Godzilla fodder, err, I mean Japanese military. I actually found this an intriguing concept - men in rubber suits duking it out as a metaphor for Japan's guilt battling with its national heritage and pride. Of course, the movie can't delve into it too seriously - after all, the main characters are men in giant rubber suits - but I was interested to see where it was going.

So far, the movie had been pretty much ace, building up some suspense and even throwing in some really twisted humor (such as when Godzilla takes out a hospital with his tail - trust me on this one). Sadly, the movie quickly ends up going nowhere, and completely undermines itself in the third act when the climactic showdowns start taking place. And much of the reason is because the film just starts to look really bad, and not in a good way. As anyone knows, much of the fun in watching a Godzilla movie comes from the cheesiness of it all - the obviously fake sets, the fact that it's guys in big rubber suits. But Giant Monsters ruins it with some of the worst CGI I've seen in awhile.

Granted, this movie came out in 2001, and so technology has progressed quite a bit since then (scary, ain't it?). But for crying out loud, this is Godzilla we're talking about - Japan's biggest pop culture icon (next to Hello Kitty, perhaps). You think they'd do the guy a bit more justice, but sadly not. By the time Godzilla settles in for the final bout with a CGI King Ghidorah, I just wanted it to be over. And the bad CGI just seemed to enhance the badness of everything else. Soon, even the cheap sets and bad acting, some of the most enjoyable things about a Godzilla movie, started grating on me.

Adding to that was the fact that the Guardian Monsters were pretty much worthless as far as divine guardians go. More often than not, they ended up getting tossed into buildings and causing even more damage than if they'd just stayed home. Put bluntly, there was very little of the smackdown that I was hoping for.

I don't really know why I'm analyzing a Godzilla movie this much. If you're a Godzilla fan, you've probably already seen this film. And if you're not a fan, then there's nothing about this movie that will make you one. I don't know, maybe the big guy just needs a rest. There is one more Godzilla movie currently in the works, tentatively titled Godzilla: Final Wars and directed by Ryuhei "I directed Versus and I'm totally riding on that fact because all of my subsequent films have sucked" Kitamura. After that, the big guy is going on vacation. Considering how much Godzilla, Mothra, and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack ran out of steam by the conclusion (most of the creativity must have gone into that title), that's probably for the best.

One only hopes that this encourages people to see out "The Road Home", her first movie. Although this gentle, nostalgic picture is a far cry from the more action-oriented films that brought her fame, it's nonetheless a very delightful and rewarding film in its own right.

When Yusheng's father dies, he returns to his remote home village to oversee the funeral. When he arrives, he learns that his mother, Zhao Di, has made a strange request. In keeping with tradition, she wants her husband's casket to be carried from the city morgue back to the village, so that his spirit will remember the way home. Although the village mayor tries to change her mind, claiming that they don't have enough manpower, she remains stubborn.

At first, Yusheng sides with the mayor. However, something in his mother's insistent causes him to reflect on his parents' courtship and relationship. At this point, the movie flashes back 40 years, and we see the story of how his parents come to meet.

When Changyu arrives one autumn day to be the village's new schoolteacher, Di is immediately smitten with the handsome young scholar. She watches him from afar as he helps build the new schoolhouse, while drawing water from the well, or as he walks schoolchildren home after class. He notices her too, this shy, pretty young girl in the bright red jacket and pigtails, and a simple, innocent attraction begins between the two in the ensuing weeks.

However, when they finally get a chance to meet, Changyu gets called back to the city for political reasons (a veiled reference to China's Cultural Revolution) . Heartbroken, Di waits patiently for him to return like he promised. When he doesn't, she decides to travel to the city, braving a fierce blizzard despite being seriously ill.

Of course, given the film's introduction, we know that Di and Changyu do end up together and have a long, (and by all accounts) loving marriage. However, the film offers us a chance to see how the love started, which allows us to understand Di's strange funeral request. She doesn't do so out of stubbornness or eccentricity, or out of mere tradition, but because it's the only way to honor the man she loved so much, who meant so much to her and her village.

Yimou makes the wise choice of filming the "present day" scenes in black and white, reserving the radiant colors and Yong Hou's gorgeous cinematography for the flashback. Yimou's camera captures the beauty of the Chinese countryside in all of its autumnal splendor. However, the film's most stunning scenery is Zhang Ziyi's face, and Yimou's camera drinks it in for all its worth.

Naturally, most of the film's appeal will come from the fact that it was Ziyi's first movie, and those seeking memorable performance will not be disappointed. If you were in love with Ziyi before, prepare to fall in love all over again. Her earnest, heartfelt performance is almost heartrending in its sincerity. The room seems to lighten up every time her face appears onscreen. Two scenes in particular stick out in my mind.

In one, Di follows Changyu as he walks a group of children home. She sneaks through the trees, her red jacket sticking out amongst the fiery golden leaves. Plucking up her courage, she walks past Changyu and the two exchange shy, furtive glances that say more than words ever could. She then breaks into an awkward, wobbly-legged run, as if her knees are too weak to support the added weight of all those butterflies in her stomach.

In the other, Di is waiting in the door when Changyu comes over for dinner, as per the village custom. When he arrives, he sees her standing in the doorway bathed in light, her face filled with joy. While he eats, she catches glimpses of him in the mirror, as does he. Again, Yimou keeps the dialog to a minimum, trusting that their glances will say all that's needed. And they do.

Lest the film become too nostalgic and romantic, Yimou weaves in the rhythms of rural Chinese life, drawing out the beauty of the mundane. While a potter fixes a broken bowl, Yimou's camera intently stares at the old man's fingers, which deftly brush the pieces and put them back together with a nimbleness that belies their age.

At only 90 minutes or so, "The Road Home" is a short and sweet picture, but a very satisfying one nevertheless. It is nostalgic and sentimental, but never to a fault. Only rarely does it venture into melodrama, but you'll probably be so enchanted Ziyi's unpretentious beauty or the glorious scenery that you just won't care.

Films like "The Road Home" are in short supply these days, with so many movies taking the cheap way of big explosions, flashy special effects, and cheapened sensuality. Which is reason enough to cherish it all the more.

It's refreshing to see a movie where words like "wholesome", "heartfelt", and "sincere" can be used without a trace of irony. Too often, such adjectives are meant with derision in today's postmodern culture. "The Road Home" evokes a yearning in me. A yearning to return to simpler times perhaps, but also for a time and place when qualities like love, community, trust, sincerity, and sacrifice aren't given short shrift.

Briefly put, the movie follows General Shi Yan-sheng (Hsing-kuo Wu), who is in charge of guarding the crown prince. The country is currently in upheaval, and in order to avoid bloodshed, Yan-sheng agrees betray the prince to Huo Da, a fellow general. However, the Yan-sheng is betrayed and the crown prince is murdered. Fearing retribution, Yan-sheng returns to his family's estate, only to find that the new emperor is willing to reward Yan-sheng for his role in the plot. Racked with guilt, he refuses the emperor's offer and joins a Shaolin monastery along with the last remnants of his men. There, he begins to plan a coup, while also dealing with desertion and his new instructor, a 10 year old boy who tries to enforce the monastic rules on the new arrivals.

It's at this point that the movie takes a turn for the worse. What could've been a powerful, evocative film about a man of war dealing with his demons and learning to follow a way of peace is traded for scenes of the new monks going to a brothel, indulging in sin, and completely disregarding their new way of life. There are the requisite struggles and doubts, but Yan-sheng doesn't put up much of a moral fight. One minute, he's agonizing about the pains and trials of life, the next he's hopping into the tub with Scarlet (Joan Chen), a former princess who has also been betrayed and becomes Yan-sheng's love.

However, the men are soon found and slaughtered, leaving only Yan-sheng. He retreats to another, more remote monastery, in order to master his passions and finally find peace. But once again, the movie feels like a rip-off, this time in the form of The Abbot, played as a kooky old man by Michael Lee. Now we see Yan-sheng actually making an attempt to be a holy, righteous man, only to be berated by The Abbot, who insists on being, well, kooky. The arrival of Violet (Chen again) again brings upheaval to Yan-sheng's life, and even more temptation (hence the title). The emperor's forces, led by Da, finally find Yan-sheng and insist that he takes the emperor's offer, or be killed.

After watching the film, and thinking about it in more detail, I simply feel cheated. The film could've been a wonderful story about a man trying to reconcile his need for vengeance and honor with his need for redemption. The movie could've been a fascinating look at the Shaolin religion. The movie could've even been an epic love story. But it was none of those things. Or rather, it had just enough of those elements to make me realize it should've been much more.

The movie's primary flaw is its main character, General Shi Yan-sheng. Woodenly played by Wu, he's a man who is supposedly tortured by his flaws and sins (he certainly complains about it enough), and yet he only makes the smallest of attempts to become a better man. That's why the end of the film feels so empty and flawed. Throughout the movie, we watch Yan-sheng act like a hypocrite, turning his back on the things that may save him while consistently lamenting his need for salvation. But at the end of the film, it feels like we're supposed to accept him as a man who has finally acheived holiness in a matter of minutes.

Jackie Chan's finest moment?!? It could very well be. "Drunken Master 2" follows the exploits of Wong Fei-Hung, a Chinese folk hero, as he fights to keep Chinese national treasures from falling into the hands of the British. The first half of the film is the silliest, as we follow Fei-Hung's wacky exploits.

It's amazing that Jackie, who is in his 40s, has enough exuberance and charm to easily pull off playing the much younger Fei-Hung. The second half of the movie gets more serious, as Fei-Hung fights the British and his fellow countrymen to protect the treasures.

Throughout the movie, we're treated to some incredible fight scenes. Where else can you watch someone fight off 100 axe-wielding assassins with a bamboo pole? The final fight scene in the steel mill gets a little drawn-out, but it still has some incredibly crazy scenes (Jackie falling into a bed of hot coals and scrambling across in agonizing slow motion comes to mind). It's not without it's silly parts (Anita Mui hams it up as Fei-Hung's mother), but if you're looking for the "ultimate" Jackie Chan film, this is probably a top contender. The fact that Fei-Hung fights better when he's drunk is just icing on the cake.

A dubbed and slightly edited version was released in the theatres not too long ago, and it was actually well done considering the hatchet job that some of Chan's movies have been put through in the past. Unfortunately, they decided not to include the original language track on the DVD release. If you want to see the original version in all of its glory, you'll have to track down a VHS copy. And I ain't selling mine.

Easily one of the best of Chan's recent films, there's a cohesive plot and the fight scenes are among the best Chan's ever done. Chan plays a member of an elite special forces unit (is there ever any other kind?) assigned to kidnap three scientists who've discovered a new energy source. Of course, the mission goes awry and Chan loses his memory (hence the title). Chan tries to regain his memory, and gets mixed up with a journalist who may not be telling the truth (surprise).

But those are all insignificant, because Jackie knows what you want to see... fights and outrageous stunts. And the Chanster doesn't disappoint. I don't know if we're sadists for watching Jackie put his life in danger with every film, or if he's a masochist to keep doing it time after time. I suspect it's a little bit of both. Watch Chan defy gravity and the normal limits of the human body as he battles opponents in a pair of wooden shoes, dodging traffic and rescuing small dogs. Or watch him battle two men atop a skyscraper, nearly falling to his death, and eventually careening down one side in a mad tumble. Watch everyday items become lethal, albeit humorous weapons when they land in Jackie's hands. Oh yes, it's all there.

And people wonder why I hate American action films... Chan makes it look so easy, and his happy-go-lucky slapstick buffoonery is there too. Ah Jackie... when will the masses see the light???

I think I was destined to see this movie. First of all, any movie with the word "Shaolin" in the title is going to get my attention. And this one doubly so. I doubt you've ever seen a movie about a bunch of misfit ex-Shaolin monks who start a soccer team to promote Shaolin kung fu to the masses. Where some might groan at the premise, I was intrigued. Then I heard the recommendations from my co-worker, and saw that it had shattered all sorts of box office records in Asia. I knew I had to see it for myself. As if that weren't enough, every time I did went to HKFlix, there it was, before my eyes. Who am I to resist the call of fate?

Simply describing this film as a movie about a bunch of Shaolin monks playing soccer might be accurate enough, but it just scratches the surface. It starts 20 years ago, when "Golden Leg" Fung, the most popular soccer player in the land, agrees to throw a game. The crowd riots, and "Golden Leg" is left crippled. Flash forward, and Fung is now a broken man, working for Hung, the very man who set him up. One day, Fung runs into Sing (Stephen Chow), a former Shaolin monk who wants to bring the teachings of Shaolin to the masses, but doesn't know how. Then Fung sees Sing take on a bunch of thugs with nothing but a soccer ball, and proceed to kick the crap out of them.

Fung decides to use Sing's amazing kicking powers and create a powerful soccer team that will defeat Hung and his Evil Team. Sing, realizing that soccer is the perfect way to spread Shaolin teachings, recruits his former classmates. Like Sing, each has his own special power. One has a head of iron, another can use his stomach muscles to propel the ball with great force. There's the 300 pound monk who can walk on air, and the monk whose acrobatic skills would make Kurt Thomas green with envy. And then there's the goalie, whose Bruce Lee impersonation is almost eerie to watch, and who can stop any shot.

Needless to say, hilarity ensues. This movie is an absolute riot to watch, and by the time the Shaolin team takes on the Evil Team (yes, they're really called the "Evil Team") for the final showdown, I was rolling on the floor. Nothing in this movie can, or should be taken seriously, and as a result, everything goes. Several scenes had me in stitches; the lounge act promoting the merits of Shaolin, the training sequences, the match against the mustached female team, the references to "Jurassic Park" and other movies. Even the dumbest sight gags (a la "Airplane") had me chuckling.

This was the first Stephen Chow flick I've seen, and I'm already a fan. He's perfect at playing the lovable buffoon; he makes it look so effortless. And his supporting cast is stellar. The biggest delight is Vicki Zhao. Zhao plays Mui, a disfigured pastry chef who uses tai chi to make the perfect bread. Unlike her scene-chewing performance in "The Duel", Zhao turns in a low-key, touching performance here.

And on top of everything is a generous helping of special effects. Borrowing liberally from movies like "The Matrix", "Shaolin Soccer" use CGI and digital effects everywhere. Unlike "The Duel", where the abundance of effects hurt the movie, "Shaolin Soccer" plays up the cartoonish-ness of everything; Sing's battle with the thugs looks like something out of a Tex Avery cartoon. Sure, some of the effects look pretty fake, but who cares? You'll probably be laughing so hard when Sing kicks the ball into warp speed, you won't even care. If anything, they just add to the fun.

I popped "Shaolin Soccer" into my DVD player, and it was almost painful when I had to stop watching in the middle. I held on as long as I could, waited as long as I could, because I was enjoying it so much. But when I picked up where I left off, it was like getting back together with an old friend. And I kept re-watching parts of the movie until 1:00am. That's what this movie did to me. And when this movie hits the theatres (Disney bought the U.S. distribution rights), I'll be first in line. And I won't be alone, even if I have to drag my friends to it, kicking and screaming. I know that, afterwards, they'll thank me.

Unfortunately, it looks like you'll have to wait for in the theatres. Since Disney has the rights, it is no longer possible to buy this movie in North America. And when Disney does release it here in the states, you can expect it to be butchered and neutered (just look at Jet Li's domestically-released movies). Still, even a butchered "Shaolin Soccer" is better than anything else Hollywood has been capable of lately. Honestly, which would you rather see? Sing and monks tearing it up on the soccer field with hilarious effects and slapstick comedy, or the latest featuring the Saturday Night Live alumni?

I rest my case.

Wah (Andy Lau) has just been told he has 2 weeks left to live. Dying of cancer, he decides to play a game of cat and mouse with the police. Wah makes the first move when he makes a jewel heist from a financier's office and takes a hostage. When negotiations break down, the police bring in Sang (Wan), their best negotiator. Despite the police's vigilance, Wah kills the hostage and easily escapes their trap. At first, Sang is puzzled by Wah's actions, since they don't seem to be driven by any criminal motives. And then the dead hostage turns out to still be alive, things grow more confusing.

When Wah steals a large diamond from a vicious gang, Sang realizes that he's been a tool the whole time. Wah may be dying, but he's not slowing down at all. As Wah makes his final plans for Sang, the jewel, and the gangsters, it's obvious that noone has any idea what he's going to do next. And Wah takes a certain satisfaction in that, egging Sang with little clues here and there. And further complicating things is the fact that Sang finds himself allied with Wah, wanting to understand him as much as he wants to arrest him.

This movie took no time drawing me in, it's opening scenes promising a great thriller. In one corner, there's a criminal whose intelligent and collected, but the fact that he has nothing to lose also leaves the possibility that he could do something crazy at any minute. In the other is an unorthodox negotiator, one who breaks the rules whenever he feels it will help him solve a case. And for the first half, I was completely intrigued by Wah's games. I was right there with Sang, trying to figure out Wah's next move, trying to figure out the reasoning behind Wah's crimes. And the fact that Wah is a complete enigma (all we know is that he's dying) makes it all the more interesting.

Unfortunately, the movie just can remain a sleek thriller, but has to throw in some melodrama and poignancy. Wah's impending death is mishandled to try and add some sort of tragedy to the movie's final act. That feels completely at odds with how Wah's character is set up. When he's introduced, he's cold and brutally efficient (and played perfectly by Lau). Not once in the movie does he ever feel sorry for himself, or seem too concerned with the tragedy of his circumstances. So why does director Johnnie To ("The Heroic Trio") insist on making us feel that way? Perhaps he felt there needed to be some sort of emotional grip to the film so it'd resonate with viewers. Personally, I think the movie would've played out just fine if it had stayed more calculated and "intellectual", focusing on the battle of wits between Sang and Wah.

Perhaps this emotionalism wouldn't have been so bad if To hadn't handled it so poorly. The obvious example of this is the burgeoning friendship between Wah and Sang, two men on opposite sides of the law who find they have something in common. But this kind of relationship has been explored before in films like "The Killer" and "Heat", and much more effectively. Despite To's attempts to beat it into the viewer, it doesn't feel like any connection is made between the two. If anything, Sang comes off like an utter tool, because Wah plays him like a cheap violin.

But even more awkward is the relationship between Wah and a girl he meets on the bus (and briefly uses as a hostage). He uses her to get past a police blockade, and she suddenly falls for him. Yeah, I've heard of the "Stockholm Syndrome", but this is a little hard to swallow. Later in the film, she helps him again and they go on a date. Unfortunately, it's ruined when Wah starts coughing up blood at the restaurant (bummer of a time for the cancer to kick in). The whole setup feels completely random and painfully awkward, and like another "Heat" homage/ripoff.

And then there's the movie's conclusion. I guess I was completely fooled. Here I thought Wah was this cold, calculating guy, and it turns out he only wanted to make a big donation to the Children's Cancer Fund... and avenge his father. This attempt to wrap everything, especially this strange story involving Wah's family and the gangsters, still feels confused at best. Despite the movie's solid beginning, and it's slick camerawork and editing (including a lot of sudden shifts in film speeds, which seems to be all the rage these days), it all falls apart in the last act.

I found myself waiting for Wah's last defiant stand (the one we get doesn't count), a final confrontation between Wah and Sang, a gunfight, a sacrifice... anything but the way the movie just peters out in the last 5 minutes. The movie's first 20 minutes promises it'll end with a bang... instead, I got a whimper.

You see, "High Risk" is nothing more than a parody (perhaps skewering is the more accurate term) of the kind of movies that Jackie makes, and also of the character that Jackie often plays. Oh, to be sure, it has its moments where I was doubled over in laughter at the silliness of it all. If you're at all familiar with kung fu movies, you'll recognize all of the jabs. Nothing is safe from Wong Jing ("New Legend Of Shaolin", "Naked Killer"), and at times you wonder how much of it is in fun, and how much of it is savage satire.

Kit Lee (Li) is a soldier turned bodyguard for Frankie Lone (Cheung), the biggest action star around. Unfortunately, Lone's been resting on his laurels lately. He spends all of his time chasing women and getting drunk, and his kung fu abilities are slipping. It's so bad that Lee has to stand in for him during stunts. Of course, this can't be made public, since everyone believes Lone does his own stunts. If they find out otherwise, he'll be disgraced. However, when a snoopy reporter (Yau) starts tailing Lone, his secret's in danger of getting out.

Jackie Cheung rules in this movie. Lone's a buffoon, lecher, and coward, and Cheung goes completely over the top with the role. He even manages to pull off a lot of Chan's little quirks and facial expressions. And he doesn't stop at Chan; a lot of his character is also a parody/satire of Bruce Lee, especially during the fight scenes. Just listen for the Bruce-like whoops and taunts. In fact, you'll probably get a bigger thrill from watching Lone get in and out of precarious situations than from any of the action scenes.

But back to the movie... Lone gets invited to a celebrity gala event, a showing of the Russian Crown Jewels, at a plush hotel. He shows up (wearing blue jeans, of course) and proceeds to start chasing girls. The reporter is there as well, hoping to get more evidence of Lone's fraud. During the middle of the event, a group of terrorists arrive, intent on stealing the jewels. Lee realizes that their leader is the same man responsible for the deaths of his wife and son, a man he knows by voice only, and he charges to the rescue. Unfortunately, he must also keep Lone safe from the terrorists, as well as a man who is convinced that he must fight Lone to prove his abilities.

If you've seen "Die Hard", you've seen much of "High Risk". Many of the hotel scenes feel eerily reminiscent of John McClane's adventure, just with a crazy kung fu twist. And I suppose that should be one argument against "High Risk". So much of it feels lifted from other movies. But that's really all part of the fun. Yeah, it steals a lot, but at the same, it pokes fun at everything it steals. Sometimes, it gets a little mean-spirited, but whenever I think of Lone's little antics, I have a good laugh. Watching Lone try to hide from the terrorists, while still trying to bed pretty women, is worth the price of the rental alone. And his final battle manages to beat Chan at his own game, as common items become deadly weapons (or visual gags) and Lone rediscovers his kung fu abilities.

Just don't take anything too seriously, and you'll have a blast watching this one. That goes for you too Jackie.

Now hurry up and make that movie!

At least, that's what Byeong-gu (Shin Ha-kyun) thinks. In order to stop the alien plot, he kidnaps Kang Man-Shik, the CEO of a powerful chemicals firm, whom he believes to be the head of the alien forces. After shaving his head (because aliens communicate telepathically via their hair) and stripping him of his clothes, he locks Man-Shik up in his basement and proceeds to torture him, trying to extract any information he can. Within 5 minutes of watching the movie, it's obvious that Byeong-gu is absolutely insane, spouting off crackpot theories while popping handfuls of pills. But the thing is, he might be right.

Director Jang Jun-Hwan (who also wrote the screenplay) plays up this ambiguity incredibly well throughout the film. You're never sure who or what to believe, and he keeps you guessing right up until the film's final scene. Perhaps this "alien plot" is just a product of Byeong-gu's fevered mind. After all, his life has been dominated by a cycle of abuse and neglect, and this might just be the only way he can deal with the pain that has controlled his life.

Or maybe it's all just an attempt to lash out at Man-Shik, who, as we learn later, was responsible for the death of Byeong-gu's first girlfriend and the hospitalization of his mother, among other things. But just when you're convinced that Byeong-gu should be locked away in a padded room for life, some clever plot twist suddenly lends credence to his crazy theories.

Jun-Hwan also proves just as successful at playing with the audience's emotions as their perceptions. Although I saw many black comedies at this year's Toronto festival, none had me laughing as hard or as often as "Save The Green Planet". From the brilliant opening sequence in which Byeong-gu lays out his conspiracy theory for his naive girlfriend (with a punk version of "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" rocking in the background) to his bumbling attempt at kidnapping, from his evasion of a nosy police detective to his bug-eyed responses at Man-Shik's denials, the audience is constantly kept in stitches. The script is full of clever dialog (including some hilarious sci-fi homages/parodies), and Ha-kyun's performance is deliriously over the top.

However, the film also knows how to make you squirm. The torture scenes, while not excessively gruesome, get the point across that Byeong-gu is not someone to trifle with. There are plenty of little twists, such as the fate of the detective who gets too close to Byeong-gu's plans, that will leave you going "Ewwwwww". While things do get a tad dark and disturbing at times, especially when Byeong-gu resorts to more and more extreme measures to get Man-Shik to confess, I would hesitate to call them gratuitous (although the crucifixion scene did leave me a bit queasy). Jun-Hwan knows how to toe the line, pushing things until you know that Byeong-gu means business without ever descending into needless gore and violence.

And besides, Man-Shik is such a total bastard that he probably deserves some of what he's getting.

But what really impressed me about the film is just how sympathetic and complex Byeong-gu's character becomes as you learn more about him and his painful, troubled life. There is much that is laudatory about "Save The Green Planet", but Jun-Hwan's greatest accomplishment is how well he develops Byeong-gu's character. And again, it's worth noting Ha-kyun's amazing performance. As the film continues, he transforms Byeong-gu from the comedic crackpot we saw at first into a tragic hero that you can't help but cheer for, even when it seems obvious that he's totally wrong. And the film's ending, besides being completely unexpected and absolutely brilliant, is also quite moving and bittersweet, a perfect finale for Byeong-gu's troubled life.

I'll be honest... I love this film, and objectivity be damned. This is the sort of film that defines "cult cinema", a priceless little classic that people track down, regardless of how long it takes or how much it costs, simply because they believe that as many people as possible need to see it. I've been unable to not talk about this film to my friends. As soon as they asked me about Toronto, I'd break into a huge smile because I was about to have the privilege of telling them about this movie. Simply put, I cannot wait to show my friends "Save The Green Planet", because a film like this deserves to be seen, that deserves to have people go gaga over it.

That's why the Midnight Madness screening of "Save The Green Planet" on September 12th, 2003 will always remain a treasured moviegoing experience of mine. When "Save The Green Planet" was released in South Korea, it bombed. For some reason that only God knows, it was billed as a romantic comedy ("My Tutor Friend" it most definitely ain't), and it tanked with the hometown crowds. But then it comes over to Canada, to the Uptown in Toronto. It plays and the entire crowd goes wild, all 900 of us.

Jun-Hwan was there, and when I think about what it must've been like for him to hear all 900 of us laugh and scream and applaud the way we did, about what might've gone through his mind when he was mobbed by people asking for his autograph or picture, about how he felt when he saw his film get the love it so richly deserved... well, it makes me a little misty-eyed. This is the whole reason why I watch and review movies, so I can get find little gems like "Save The Green Planet", films which blow me away and leave me grasping for words so I can sing their praises.

"The Ring" didn't quite live up to expectations I had, though there were many elements of it that I did appreciate. On the other hand, "Dark Water" scared the crap out of me, turning me into a screaming little girl the first I watched it (a good thing, mind you) while also revealing a lot more emotional and thematic depth than I had expected from a horror flick. But they're nothing compared to "Ju-On" (trans. "The Grudge").

"Ju-On" doesn't really have a plot per se, but rather a premise that merely plays out through a series of episodes.

In a grainy, black and white flashback that begins the film, we catch glimpses of a man going insane and killing his family (including the cat). He hides his wife's body in the attic before committing suicide, but their 6-year-old boy goes missing and is never found. Jump forward to the present, where their spirits now haunt their old house. However, don't expect the poor, misunderstood specters of "The Sixth Sense". Because of the violent nature of their deaths, "Ju-On"'s spirits now bear a terrible grudge against the world of the living, and anyone who comes in contact with the house is subject to their wrath.

The first of these unlucky souls is a young social worker named Nishina Rika, who heads to the house on her latest assignment. When she arrives, the place is in complete disarray. The only person there is an elderly woman named Sachie who is virtually comatose. But as Rika searches the house, she discovers a young boy named Toshio hiding in the closet. As Rika goes back downstairs to ask Sachie about him, the house suddenly takes on a more menacing atmosphere. A black mist seems to envelope Sachie before Rika's eyes, and what she sees practically drives her mad. The last thing we see is her face twisted in terror as she presses up against the wall... and then the screen goes black and the next episode begins.

At first, the episodic nature of the movie is a bit confusing and disjointed. Characters disappear, captured by the spirits, only to reappear a few episodes later. Episodes seem to take place days, months, even years apart from each other. But as the film continues, a pattern begins to emerge, revealing a web of misery and terror with the house and its spirits at the center.

While some horror films rely on cheap shock tactics or gore to get their chills, "Ju-On" relies almost entirely on the unbearable sense of dread that it creates and sustains right up until the very end. It does have its shocking moments. Occasionally, a door suddenly slams shut or someone (or something) leaps out of the dark to grab a character. The audience jumps out their seat, and then nervously laughs at how silly it is. But more often than not, "Ju-On" will have you sinking down into your seat, as it piles on the dread until you think you're going to suffocate, and then piles on even more.

Most of the time, you can see the scares in "Ju-On" coming from a mile away. After awhile, it's safe to assume someone's a goner the minute they step inside the house. And if you're still confused, a name flashes on the screen at the beginning of each episode, announcing whose going to meet their Maker within the next 10 minutes or so. What's more, it's pretty obvious just how they're going to be dispatched.

In one episode, a girl believes she's being chased by one of the spirits, and being a, well, silly girl, she hides under the covers. Of course, the audience giggles because you should never, ever do something like that when being chased by a ghost. But whereas a scenario like that would be played for laughs in an American horror movie, it becomes absolutely terrifying in "Ju-On". The viewer is never once let off the hook or allowed to laugh at the characters' demises, no matter how obviously stupid their actions are, because Shimizu puts you right there with them. I'll confess, I screamed like a little girl when she peeked under the covers.

Even when the movie seems to let up for a bit halfway through, Director Takashi Shimizu (who directed the original direct-to-video releases on which the movie is based) always finds subtle ways to send shivers down your spine. It might be a creepy reflection, some unsettling photographs, or even just the gloomy music that always seem to playing in the background. As a result, when the movie's really big scares start mounting, you're already prepped for whatever disconcerting sight Shimizu is about to unveil.

"Ju-On" is a horror film, plain and simple. Its only aim is to terrify the audience, and it does so extremely well. It's a wonderfully chilling piece of mood and atmosphere, creating an alien sense of dread so pervasive that I still get the heebie-jeebies whenever I think about it (which usually occurs when I'm in the shower or putting stuff away in a darkened closet).

There are certain things in this movie that I'll never get out of my head: Rika opening her eyes and seeing Toshio, white as a bone and his eyes blackened pits, staring over her; the shower scene; watching a character cover their face only to realize that there are a few too many hands there; the horribly nasty sounds that announce the spirits' presence; the puppet-like manner in which a bloodied woman crawls down the stairs (which would give Sadako fits); and many more. And I can't wait to experience them all over again. But this time with friends, so I can have the sadistic glee of bringing "The Grudge" a whole new set of victims.

I rarely give blanket movie recommendations, simply because many of my movie preferences are a bit, um, idiosyncratic compared to most people I know. But "Grave Of The Fireflies" is one notable exception. To say I love this movie is an understatement. Actually, I'm hard pressed to think of a movie that's so incredibly pure both as art and drama. "Grave Of The Fireflies" is a movie that hits me so deeply that I honestly feel everyone should see it, without reservation. It's hard to imagine someone not being impacted in some way by this film. To be honest, I don't think I want to meet a person who could watch this film and not be moved by the plight of Seita and Setsuko.

The opening line of dialog ("On the night of September 21, 1945, I died.") and the opening scene (a dirty train station filled with the dead and dying) ensures that this is not going to be a particularly upbeat movie. Our main character, a young boy named Seita, is slumped over in the station waiting for death. A janitor discovers a rusted metal box on his body, and assuming it's trash, throws it outside. Surrounded by fireflies, the ghost of Seita's younger sister Setsuko appears and runs to the side of Seita, who is now a spirit himself. Together, they travel back through their final days, revealing to the viewer the hardships they had to endure.

The war has turned against Japan, and American planes regularly firebomb the city of Kobe. During one such raid, Seita and Setsuko are delayed from joining their mother at the local shelter. When they finally arrive, Seita finds his mother's mangled body, a victim of the bombing. After she dies, the children move in with a distant aunt, who quickly tires of the pair. Seita's too busy taking care of Setsuko to do any real work, and two extra mouths to feed put a strain on the household's supplies. The aunt soon makes it clear that they aren't welcome anymore, and is especially disappointed with Seita's apparent lack of concern for the war effort.

Stubborn and unwilling to compromise, Seita leaves with Setsuko. For a time, it seems like things might start looking up, as the two set up camp in some caves at a nearby lake. There, they can wait out the war and strife. Seita is determined to take care of Setsuko on his own, but despite his best efforts, Setsuko's condition worsens from malnutrition. In the postwar economy, no one cares about two orphans (their father, a naval officer, is presumed dead when it's announced that Japan has lost the war). Before long, Seita is forced to steal for money and food. Unfortunately, it's too little, too late.

"Grave Of The Fireflies" is a tragedy, pure and simple. But it's also a beautifully told, emotionally laden story about the love between Seita and Setsuko. Even in the midst of horrible hardships, the two never lose their faith and hope in each other, which of course increases the tragedy of their fate.

On one hand, you hate Seita for his pride and stubbornness, because it's ultimately this that dooms them (one of many moving scenes involves Seita's spirit finally realizing this as he looks back in tears). On the other hand, its root lies in his desire to care for his family. With his father gone, he's the man of the house. As such, it's difficult not to sympathize with him.

And Setsuko... dear Setsuko. I know she's only a cartoon, but I can't think of a more endearing character. You could spend hours watching her little mannerisms and facial expressions (lovingly animated by Studio Ghibli). Her smile alone is a wonder to behold, and her cheeks never lose their rosy sheen. After Setsuko dies, there's a final montage of her at the cave. It depicts her running around, playing house, cleaning, sewing, and just doing completely ordinary things that a little girl her age would do. It is both the most moving and the most heart wrenching scene in the movie. Scenes like this haunt you for days and weeks after seeing them, the slightest remembrance bringing tears to your eyes (like now). That's the sign of powerful movie.

Created at the legendary Studio Ghibli and adapted from Akiyuki Nosaka's semi-autobiographical novel, "Grave Of The Fireflies" is beautiful to watch. Especially with the fine digital remastering job that the folks at Central Park Media have done. I've seen this movie several times, and it's never looked more vibrant, even with its oft-muted colors (an anime technique to convey a scene's gravity). But some scenes, such as those at the lake where Seita and Setsuko spend their final days, are especially deep and lush, looking more like impressionistic watercolors than mere animation.

For Takahata, the little details sometimes carry the deepest meaning. One brilliant scene takes place as the children capture fireflies to light up their cave. It's a precious scene that ends with a shot of a firefly dying, it's light dimming just before it falls to the ground. Such a little thing, but it perfectly underscores the situation and sets up Setsuko's coming to terms with her mother's death.

There are moments (Roger Ebert calls them "pillow scenes") when the film pulls away from Seita and Setsuko, and focuses on something mundane - a discarded toy, a pail of water, a broken tree swing. These pauses are deliberate, helping you contemplate and fully realize what you've seen, and giving you time to breathe and prepare for what's next. I find myself marveling at how gracefully Takahata does this. Nothing like this exists in American animation, and it's a welcome relief from musical numbers, slapstick humor, and over-the-top characters.

Some have commented that "Grave Of The Fireflies" carries anti-American sentiment. If you haven't seen it, you might feel that way simply because it gives a Japanese perspective on WWII. Personally, I don't see this at all, and furthermore, I think that sort of drivel serves only to cheapen the movie. We see American planes bombing and we know the historical setting of the movie. But the Americans are never mentioned by name. Very little attention is paid to the politics of the situation. By narrowing its focus to just two small Japanese orphans, I think "Grave Of The Fireflies" says more about the true human cost of war than most war movies.

It's especially poignant to watch "Grave Of The Fireflies" in light of current events. We hear one report after another about how we must deal with Iraq and those who would shelter terrorists. But nothing is said about those who will be most affected by any battle, those who have nothing to do with the events and policies leading to war aside from their nationality.

It's hard to imagine "Grave Of The Fireflies" not becoming an intensely personal experience for someone who has seen it. It's too rich a movie and just too tragic to be otherwise. But in the midst of the tragedy, there's great and wondrous beauty; there are those tiny moments when Seita and Setsuko manage to hold back their current situation with love and compassion. Scenes like that allow you to forget about the inevitable. Before you know it, you've completely opened yourself up to Seita and Setsuko's story. That's a rare experience that defies description, but it's one that I treasure.

Watch this movie. Please. Forget that it's a cartoon. Forget that it's anime. Forget that it's not Disney. Forget about your preconceived notions. They're meaningless and won't stand a chance against this movie.

Watch it.