Movies in Brief
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
MAREBITO
unrated, 92 minutes
Japanese horror movies are dreadsoaked skin-crawlers that get remade into big budget Naomi Watts vehicles by Hollywood. Director Takashi Shimizu may be the king of J-horror, but he’s also the king of the Hollywood remake. His “Ju-on 1” and “Ju-on 2” minted money in Japan, and then he added Sarah Michelle Gellar, called it “The Grudge,” and cranked out the cash over in Hollywood. But between “Ju-on 2” finishing and “The Grudge” starting, Mr. Shimizu had a free eight days. So he made “Marebito.”
The film stars Japanese cult movie director Shinya Tsukamoto as a freelance cameraman who catches some footage of a guy stabbing out his own eyes on the subway. Knowing that “America’s Funniest Home Videos” won’t be interested, he repeatedly watches the clip until he decides that the kind of fear that can make a mildmannered man stab out his eyes is the kind of fear he wants to try. So down he goes into the subway system, through secret tunnels, past the underground bunkers that urban legend says riddled Tokyo during World War II, down an endless stairwell, and arrives finally in a vast, buried city of cyclopean decay deep inside the hollow earth, where there’s a chainedup naked girl in the center of this horrifying Tootsie Pop. Before you can say “really bad idea,” Mr. Tsukamoto has her tied up in his apartment, drinking a big bowl of human blood.
“Marebito” feels like something the director made up as he went along, the first draft of a movie written on a cocktail napkin while drunk. But Messrs. Shimizu and Tsukamoto are such sickos that even their drunken ramblings have a hypnotic appeal. Cross-breeding H.P. Lovecraft’s stories of dark Elder Gods with the creepy J-horror format, these guys have created a movie that should be retitled “The Call of Shimizu.”
– Grady Hendrix
THE WORLD’S FASTEST INDIAN
PG-13, 127 minutes
“The World’s Fastest Indian” is as indefatigable as its hero, New Zealand land racer Burt Munro. This simple movie chronicles the old codger’s charmed quest to Utah to set a new speed record with his vintage bike. And perhaps it’s inevitable that the fictional accounting of his life has the feel of a dream indulged, like Burt’s.
There’s always one more kind stranger, one more wizardly dab of monkey grease, one more disarming bit of Kiwi wisdom to keep the dream alive. By the end it’s a mindless you-go-Munro celebration. But along the way, Anthony Hopkins, who plays Burt, gets across a pleasing decency.
Munro was a man possessed by the need to tune his 1920 “Indian”-model motorcycle into a speedmachine. With some help from the local townspeople, he collected cash for a trip to America, where he broke the current land speed record with his trusty bike.
Throughout the movie, Munro’s motives are so purely single-minded that wallets spring open at his approach. This is doubly the case when he hits America, despite a rocky start there for him and the movie. The film takes advantage of every chance to show Burt’s unbiased embrace of anyone with a good heart, especially a sweet Sunset Strip transvestite named Tina (Chris Williams). When Burt hits the road, the landscape stretches out, and more bearable road-movie rhythms take over.
The climactic race, as well as the negotiations leading to it, is as surprising as any win-the-big-game run-up. It’s hard not to muster a smile for the little guy, though, as he finally rockets across the flats in his Indian, which resembles a clipped plane chassis on wheels. Slow, steady, and very small ambitions drive this movie, but it’s on sentimental autopilot.
– Nicolas Rapold
ISN’T THIS A TIME! A TRIBUTE CONCERT FOR HAROLD LEVENTHAL
unrated, 90 minutes
While it unavoidably plays like a straight-faced “A Mighty Wind,” “Isn’t This a Time! A Tribute Concert for Harold Leventhal” is nevertheless a pleasant enough folk-based concert film, featuring staples such as Arlo Guthrie, Pete Seeger, and the Weavers, among others.
The late Leventhal, who passed away in early October, helped bring folk music into the mainstream 50 years ago. The docu mentary, directed by Jim Brown, begins with a 10-minute prologue that features Mr. Guthrie conceiving the idea of putting on a concert in honor of his beloved manager and promoter. As word of the event gets out, other proteges of Leventhal’s (such as Peter, Paul, and Mary and Leon Bibb) jump on board, and the concert (which took place in 2003) was eventually performed at Carnegie Hall before a soldout audience.
The film is interspersed with commentary by Leventhal and other artists that keeps it from fading into monotony, as concert films are apt to do. Likewise, Mr. Brown eventually shifts the focus from the concert as a whole to the Weavers (they were also the subject of Mr. Brown’s 1982 “prequel,” “Wasn’t That a Time”), who were blacklisted during the McCarthy era but resuscitated by Leventhal. Folk fans will no doubt enjoy what they see.
– Edward Goldberger