There is no overstating the impact of Katsuhiro Otomo's 1988 anime Akira, which was based on his own manga comic. It was the first film of its kind to receive a wide release in the west and remains an enduring standard of quality within the genre. So it is not without considerable anticipation that Otomo's Steamboy arrives - it is his first full length animated feature as director since Akira, and has been several years in the making. Ray is a plucky young burgeoning inventor in 1860s England, who one day receives a mysterious package from his grandfather. Ray's father and grandfather (both top inventors) are overseas on a top secret research mission so Ray is obviously intrigued. Inside the package is a "steam ball", a black metal spherical contraption capable of focusing enormous amounts of steam energy. But there are nefarious types hoping to get their hands on the device, and it is up to Ray to protect it. Soon Ray's grandfather is back on the scene and all manner of large scale action ensues. Perhaps consciously, Steamboy's Victorian era-meets-big machines look is far removed from the influential cyper-punk stylings of Akira. But it is all the more refreshing for it. It possesses a colourful visual palette, as well as an innocent tone often lacking in modern anime. The film takes place entirely during the day, but we do sometimes descend into the dark depths of some large machinery. While Otomo's central theme appears to be the dangers of technological progress, he is clearly having a ball with all the wondrous vehicles and contraptions on display. There are plenty of impressively large action set-pieces throughout the film, but the prolonged finale redefines the word epic. The eye-boggling sense of scale presented is truly remarkable. Plus Otomo gives us a marvellous treat during the credits by presenting a series of still images that tell the further adventures of Steamboy and his chums. Very cool. An English dubbed version of the film exists (with Anna Paquin voicing Ray!), but the print viewed at the Civic was subtitled. Apparently the English cut is a good fifteen minutes shorter, so I ain't complaining.
As I mentioned in my preview, George A. Romero's Land of the Dead is the film I had been most looking forward to at this year's Film Festival. Since 2002, we have seen a mini-renaissance of the zombie film - a genre created by Romero. This included Resident Evil; 28 Days Later; Shaun of the Dead (a hit at last year's festival) and even a remake of Romero's own Dawn of the Dead. As these zombie films came and went, all experiencing some degree of success, and all to some degree influenced by George A. Romero, I waited. Patiently. Then the good news finally came - the master would finally be able to mount a fourth "Dead" film. "Hurrah!" I exclaimed. Then more good news - it would be premiering at this year's Film Festival. "Double hurrah!". That's a lot of build up I know, but it's been twenty years since Romero's last zombie film, Day of the Dead, the third in what until now was a trilogy. As the title suggests, Land of the Dead is set when the zombie phenomenon (i.e. the dead getting up and walking around and eating people, turning them into fellow walking dead types) has progressed a little further on from the last film. The Earth's population is, for lack of a better expression, getting used to the zombie presence. While the zombies, in their own way, are evolving, and becoming capable of rudimentary tasks. The citizens of one city have cordoned off a large section surrounded by rivers to create a safe-heaven of sorts. The rich (headed by area dictator Dennis Hopper) live in the centre in a pseudo-idyllic enclosed glass building known as Fiddler's Green, while the lower socio-economic groups populate the surrounding ghettos. Groups of civilian commando types venture out into zombie-infested territory inside an especially designed truck known as Dead Reckoning to retrieve supplies and take out a few zombies while they're at it. But there is unrest, both in the downcast humans and their less-alive ilk. Land of the Dead is the most action-heavy of all Romero's zombie films, and builds on elements foreshadowed in Day of the Dead. He crams the film with more ultra-gross out moments and genuine jumps than arguably all his previous zombie films put together. It is premium Romero. The film at times recalls all three films that preceded it - the panicked mania of Night; the contained monotony of Dawn; the power abuse and zombie evolution of Day. Of the cast, John Leguizamo (Spawn, Carlito's Way) is the stand out, once again showing just how underutilised he is by Hollywood. Like many of Romero's earlier films, the supporting cast is kind of "off", but the other leads - Baker, Asia Argento (xXx, daughter of George's buddy, Italian horror legend Dario) and exploitation staple Dennis Hopper all do their jobs. Hopper, who spends practically the entire film cackling up in a luxury penthouse, provides one particularly crowd-pleasing moment towards the end. Elements of the over praised allegorical nature of Dawn of the Dead are present in terms of the physical separation between the haves and the have-nots, and how the zombies ignore such divisions. But I never really cared much for allegory in horror films. I'm glad the film premiered at the festival - I liked the idea that I was seeing it for the first time with fellow committed Dead-heads. The crowd at the Civic seemed to be lapping it up. C'mon George, give us a fifth.
At the 2003 Film Festival, I was absolutely blown away by a movie called All The Real Girls, which told a heart-breakingly beautiful tale of stilted romance in a small American mining town. The film had a borderline avant-garde style which recalled the works of Terrence Malick (Badlands, The Thin Red Line) with its non-linear story-telling, kooky editing and hazy look. This year sees the arrival of writer/director David Gordon Green's follow-up, the Southern Gothic drama thriller Undertow. It tells the story of the Munn family, father John (Dermot Mulroney), and sons Chris and Tim (Billy Elliot's Jamie Bell and Devon Alan respectively) whose lives are irrevocably impacted after John's brother Deel (Josh Lucas - Hulk, Sweet Home Alabama) is released from jail and comes to visit. Green is a major talent, and proves it once more here. The oft-sighted comparison is Charles Laughton's 1955 classic The Night of the Hunter, which also told a story of sinister familial disharmony down south. But while the earlier film came across like a wicked fairy tale, Undertow manages to be both fable-like and grounded at the same time, lending its gurgling menace a potent reality, despite a persistent dream-like quality. As he states himself, Green is accountable only to the tone of his films, and he is a master of establishing it with a variety of techniques. It turns out Malick is a producer on Undertow, and brought the project to the young director who appears to be carrying Malick's torch, creatively. That's not to say his style is derivative, but like Malick, Green projects a vanguard sensibility with his filmmaking that doesn't conform to cinematic conventions. The cast contributes considerably to the success of the film, managing to effectively straddle the line between abstraction and verisimilitude. Lucas, who spends most of his time toiling in big budget tosh, finally has a role here that makes decent use of his slightly off kilter good ol' boy charms, and Bell, pulling off his accent with aplomb, shows he has a lot of strong work in front of him. Green attended the festival screening of Undertow and held an enjoyably chatty Q & A session following the film which helped to dispel the cliché of prolonged awkward silences dominating such occasions at Auckland Film Festival screenings.
Dominic Corry
