Category: movie reviews

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Do Unto Others–Troubling Crime Drama Doesn’t Get Old

My habit is to go to see a new, usually Japanese movie every Wednesday because it’s the one night of the week in my city where I can watch for a relatively cheap price (probably around eight dollars instead of twelve). This time, because I saw the reviews were pretty good, I went to see “Rosuto Kea,” or, under it’s English title, Do Unto Others—a new film from Nikkatsu Studios. The title comes from the famous Bible verse in Matthew—“Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

I really didn’t know what I was getting into with this movie. Note that I will be discussing some spoilers here, but if you are interested in taking a gander and don’t want the spoilers, jump to the bottom of the review.

The movie is about a particular worker named Shiba (played by Kenichi Matsuyama, probably most famous in the West for his role as super sleuth L in the Death Note films) who compassionately has devoted his life to helping the elderly as their ability to serve themselves ekes away. His coworkers look up to him, his clients adore him, he goes the extra mile every time someone on his radar needs help… and that includes a longstanding penchant for secretly murdering individuals who he deems are suffering too much, and also creating too terrible a burden on their caring families. Prosecuting Attorney Otomo (played by Masami Nagasawa, recently in Shin Ultraman) sniffs out his evil deeds, and soon discovers (as the poster shockingly points out—geez, spoilers!) Shiba killed 42 people. In the ensuing court case, though, she has to search her own heart as she considers how she has treated her own family, and Shiba’s actions seem more morally cloudy than originally suspected when his painful past comes to light.

Film critic Mark Schilling characterizes this film as making an argument for euthanasia, and I don’t fully agree. Shiba is depicted as a torn individual who has had his moral compass ripped apart by societal stresses and an economic impossibility, as well as his father asking him to help him die. Yet even as some of the families of his victims come forth in support of what Shiba has done, and even Otomo (who acts much more like a detective than a prosecutor in the film) partially comes around to his position, nevertheless there is an undercurrent pushing back against Shiba’s narrative. Of course Otomo tongue-lashes the eerily calm murderer to little outward effect, but tellingly in the court room after Otomo once again tries to justify himself, a member in the audience shrieks out, demanding he return the mother he had murdered and thus stolen away from her. A side story concerning two older lovebirds underscores the bare fact that every loving relationship means that we “cause trouble” for one another as part of what it means to love and be human. And Otomo, in a searing confession to Shiba, certainly does not come to agree with what he did—she instead finds blame in her own neglect of her father, and a stinging guilt in that her mother (a Christian) insisted in entering a nursing home when she reached dotage so that Otomo could pursue her independent adult life (I don’t think the movie gives an impression that Otomo dumped her mother into the system—it is explicitly pointed out that the decision was her mother’s, presumably coming from her Christian convictions related to that verse from the title).

I think what makes the movie interesting, and disturbing, is that it dares ask these questions, and it dares to present Shiba as more than just a crazed and vicious madman ala Satoshi Uematsu, a real-life care worker in Japan who stabbed 19 disabled individuals to death back in 2016. I am not sure that the movie wants to be fully realistic in this narrative—as with most movies, the emotions are exaggerated, the situations heightened and ridiculous, and the central question of how to care for the old and infirm (a lightning rod topic for aging Japan, where over a quarter of the population is over 65 years old) is presented in a stark and painful light that anyway worked for me as a gut-wrenching emotional trigger. The movie is filled with harsh scenes of geriatric individuals suffering from dementia causing messes, breaking into fights, living in squalor, and urinating on the floor. Comments from viewers who have written mostly positive reviews on sites like eiga.com praise the film for how it cuts home for them, citing their own experiences as caregivers for the elderly, and pointing to how uncomfortable the movie made them in considering their own position and their experiences in life. I saw comment after comment about how viewers felt “stabbed” by the movie, as if it had assaulted them with its narrative force, and I felt that uncomfortable heft as I sat bludgeoned in my seat as the film ended, too.

This movie is not a thriller per se. There is little action, and even the tense sequences are often overlaid with gentle music. It’s mawkish at times, oversimplified, and I think it’s disturbing how the movie positions Shiba in a positive light during choice sequences—but I think that dissonance is also deliberate. I like that the movie struggles with the moral quandary of its subject matter without landing on a resounding moral gong one way or the other. No one is calling for euthanasia laws at the end. Otomo is left questioning how she didn’t treat her family in a way she could be proud of, and there is a strong sense that Shiba is ravaged inside as he relives the moments that drove him to his first horrible murder. The cinematography cleverly plays the two actors against each other through reflections and their contrasting tears—each gripped in the hellish guilt of having taken part either directly or indirectly in the deaths of their respective fathers.

For me, Do Unto Others was a grinding endurance for my nerves. It asks important questions about the elderly in an outlandish way, but does so I think to shock audiences into contemplation, and the performances from leads Nagasawa and Matsumura anchor the movie, with strong supporting work by the rest of the cast–especially Akira Emoto (as Matsumura’s father). I am not entirely comfortable with where the movie went, but I want more movies to take me to places and urge me to engage with topics I don’t want to consider, and do so with a measure of craft. This movie did those things better than I expected (though I think 2019’s Talking to the Starry Sky deals with some similar issues more tactfully and with at least equal power). A thought-provoking and disturbing film, if flawed in execution—much like its villainous protagonist.

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Shazam: Fury of the Gods–Dumb Divinity, but with a Successful Side of Silly

A movie review by Nicholas Driscoll

Sometimes love and care, when applied to the wrong part of a film, can feel like sloppiness, or a lack of craft. Shazam: Fury of the Gods has gotten a nasty trouncing by the critics and has bombed out badly at the box office, with many finding the movie shallow and unfulfilling, all spectacle with little of the heart from the first film. While I think such complaints may be merited from a particular point of view (especially in reference to some weak baddies and convoluted MacGuffin chasing), I am not sure as a whole the movie lacks the tender loving care that some critics attest, and I can’t help but wonder if in a few years audiences might rediscover this film as a minor hidden gem.

The story follows the daughters of Atlas arriving to steal that broken Shazam scepter from the first film. When Billy broke the scepter, he opened up congress between worlds, and the daughters of Atlas (Kalypso and Hespera) crossed over on a mission of vengeance. See, the powers of Shazam actually are stolen from six “gods”—his name is actually an acronym of those gods. Shazam is supposed to have the wisdom of Solomon, the strength of Hercules, the stamina of Atlas, the power of Zeus, the courage of Achilles, and the speed of Mercury—where the families of these other gods are is never mentioned. Shazam and his Captain Marvel family have become dysfunctional in their mission to protect Fawcett City, causing a lot of damage and goofing off while saving lives, a problem that has gotten to the point that they have received mocking nicknames. Kalypso and Hespera create a massive energy dome around the city, trapping everyone inside, and begin the hunt for Shazam and co—as well as searching for a mysterious seed that they want to grow a tree (though I personally got a little confused about why they wanted the apple, and how they were going to get back Atlas’ powers, and what exactly they were going for). As the story progresses, Billy Batson/Shazam must deal with his insecurities about his future, the splintering of his team, and his past failures as the deadly goddesses attack the city and unleash an army of monsters to create a transformed world.

Much digital ink and video noise has already been shared about any number of failings in Shazam 2, which is already a massive failure at the box office, and is receiving widespread derision from the fans who bothered to attend. Much of the derision stems from shallow and seemingly thoughtless character work and poorly constructed worldbuilding, as well as an overall step down in heart and storytelling from the first film (bizarrely, the easter egg from the last movie has very little payoff here, and despite Shazam’s archnemesis receiving a movie just three months ago in theaters, Black Adam is never mentioned in the entire movie). Some of the complaints (which are understandable) include wafer-thin and predictable villains with cliched bad-guy lines; an even more childish and downright stupid characterization for Shazam despite Billy Batson’s more mature stature; and for me anyway confusing powers irregularly used and badly executed in the film. It’s been a while since I sat through the original Shazam, and so my memory is cloudy with a chance of forgetfulness, but methinks the humor in Shazam 2 feels a bit degraded, with many gags not quite landing.

A big part of these issues probably comes down to how Billy Batson’s utter absence for 98% or more of the movie. Seriously, the actor maybe trips onto stage in two scenes, briefly—and I thought they were decent scenes! This is the MAIN CHARACTER of the film, the protagonist, and he barely even appears. Now I know what you’re thinking—Shazam is the main character, Shazam is Billy Batson, how can you say that the main character of the movie doesn’t appear in the film? And yeah, okay, I hear you, and you make a good point… but Shazam here, he is barely Batson at all.

As mentioned previously, Shazam is uber immature in this movie. With his big expressions and idiotic shallow thoughts, I kept thinking this guy, he supposed to be like five years old. This is a weird choice, because Batson is seventeen in this movie—coming up on eighteen, worried about “graduating out” and losing his foster family. He is practically an adult. And I think you can take Batson hiding inside Shazam as our hero worried about facing the truth of his situation. Maybe his immature behavior also is meant as a way to shield himself from maturity, that he acts like a doofus because he doesn’t want to cross that threshold into adult life. You can read it that way, but I am not sure the film intends such a reading. After all, Batson/Shazam seems to want to be a good leader. He seems to want to create solid plans and turn around the Captain Marvel team so that everyone can work together well and they can overcome their negative reputation. And we never see Batson hint that he wants to be a dopey kid. When Batson appears on the screen, he immediately seems ten times more mature than Shazam. This despite the fact that Shazam is supposed to possess the wisdom of Solomon—a problem in the script that is lampshaded in the dialogue! But folks, mentioning the problem doesn’t make it go away! (Lampshading is an ongoing issue in the movie, and continues with a 6,000-year-old goddess falling in love with and dating a minor—a major plot point, and its creepiness is pointedly remarked upon… and ignored.)

So why is Shazam so incredibly stupid in this movie? Again, this comes down to a weak script. In the end, Shazam has to put his life on the line in a dramatic way, but I am not convinced that he was ever unwilling to do such heroic deeds in the face of danger. He isn’t shown to be a coward, it isn’t part of his apparent character arc that he was unable to be brave at the beginning and only capable of sacrifice by the end. Unless we are to interpret his fear of losing his family (including his fellow super fam members) as a lack of bravery? There is a line towards the end that seems to indicate that his acts of daring do qualify him for being a genuine god—but that never seemed like his goal, either.

This sort of vague character motivation plagues other aspects of the story, too. Hespera and Kalypso are both very bland as villains, despite the talents of their respective actors, and even their goal can feel unfocused. They seem upset that Shazam possesses the power of Atlas (his strength), and so they try to zap the power away from our hero with the staff—but then they seem more concerned about this fruit that Shazam has in his chamber of secrets for some reason. How Shazam got the fruit isn’t clear—it may have been mentioned, but the delivery felt muddled to me. It’s not entirely clear what good the fruit will do Hespera and Kalypso once they get it, though there are some gestures at the idea the fruit will restore the villains’ world somehow. So did the wizard who gave Batson his powers steal the fruit and destroy Hespera and Kalypso’s magical dwelling for some reason? If so, why? We don’t know. It feels very arbitrary.

However, if you can embrace the arbitrariness as a standard classic superhero story element, you can still find a lot to enjoy in this movie. The cockeyed storytelling and half-wit motivations feel like golden-age comic book poppycock, which has its dream-like charm. Yes, the inner workings of the story are a maze of contradictions, the world-building is a mystical colander, and the character motivations are a mess, and the character arcs are poorly constructed—but there is still a true sense of head-down, all-in fun that the movie delivers. Over and over throughout the film I was noticing clever touches and background details, set dressing, and cute lines that helped forecast plot developments. The movie has a cheerful devil-may-care attitude that carries the movie, injecting it with a freewheeling charm that pulled me along with the ricocheting narrative and allowed me the space to overlook some of its narrative weak points. For example, I totally dig Freddy Freeman’s wacky t-shirt design.

Plus we get a host of monsters and excellent effects. The army of creatures springs right out of folklore and legend and betrays an affection for classic monster films, especially with the design of a certain Cyclops that is an obvious tribute to Ray Harryhausen and The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad. The main dragon, too, is more than just your usual reptilian dinosaur with wings—its called Ladon (Radon in Japanese, which is also the name of a famous pterosaur kaiju from Toho’s Godzilla franchise), and its made from a tree. It’s a plant beasty, so its bark is as bad as its bite because its bite has bark… you know what I mean.

There… is a lot to be annoyed about in Shazam: Fury of the Gods. I had to restrain myself from complaining about some bits (a bizarre homing magic blast, for example, or an excruciatingly long scene where Ladon menaces two main characters without actually killing them for absolutely no reason than plot armor). Still, I walked out of the theater grinning because it’s the kind of movie that screams freedom of silliness, that gives permission just to laugh and have a good time, that resists the gloomy storytelling that occasionally pervades action cinema, and that embraces a bright and optimistic color palette in a time when because of health and a world that seems constantly on the edge of collapse, I need some cheer, man. Shazam 2 gave me some of that happy juice. I’m just thankful for that.